Private A History Lesson

[Lirka Ka]

These were strange times. It was the first thought that had come into Lirka’s head as she threw herself into the folds of the Sith once again, once more serving the vestiges of an Empire she swore herself: one long since dissolved. This new breed of Sithlings were something else, some faces remained familiar but they lacked the unity of Carnifex’s original lot, at least, the unity present before the whole civil war fiasco, and even still more changes came with this new assembly of evil where once the Empire of old called her Governor, Grand Moff, Tyrant, Butcher, Slaughterer, they dubbed her “Slavecatcher General '' now.

Admittedly, she liked that title very much.

But still, keeping with the trend of the unlikely and unfamiliar something Lirka had never seen came to her, despite her whole tenure under the last Empire. A Sithling had asked for her presence, the lamb had called out to the wolf. It amused her to no end, enough that she was willing to humor this Darth Malum of House Marr who so desired a meeting

It took her to Saijo, a world unfamiliar to her, but it mattered not. If there was one thing Lirka had learned during her last half of a decade of obscurity, it was keeping a “low” profile. At least, as low of a profile a hulking brute of a woman clad in a humming and whirring powersuit could. She walked with utter confidence in every step, she had power behind her now: the populace in front of her were little more than ants, and heeded them no mind as she made her way to the meeting point the Sithling had requested

Time to see what was imported enough to ask for her summons.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum was not sure what had gone over to him to have sent off a message to one that was called the Slavecatcher General, love of history was one thing, but suicide was quite another. Still, it seemed like most things for Malum, the thirst for knowledge would beat out sense when it came to such matters. It was probably rather morbid that he was idly interested when such a thing would go on to doom him, let it be hundreds of years in the future, at a time where did not live... or had lived for so long that he did not deserve to live.

Lost in thought, standing near the entrance to the Palace of Silver Rain, he resisted the urge to whistle, there were many a soul wandering about, and no matter how bored he was, the one known as Lirka Ka had said she would be here today, so it was best he not make a fool out of himself for either audience. Perhaps he could focus on what questions he would ask them? Bah, even if it was the most academically vigorous route, he had never ever been that comfortable with using it, he was much better at sounding out the questions as they felt appropriate... well that was admittedly for the rare times he would even have the courage to interact with a stranger, but still.

Malum only knew of two famous Confederacies to have existed in the Galaxy's history, both seemed long gone. The first was nothing more than a pawn of the then Chancellor Palpatine, who would go on to become Emperor, a secessionist force that wished to bring the Republic down low. A worthy goal, even for pawns. Then this new Confederacy... he knew next to nothing of, it was gone while he was still a child, and though he could research it easily enough, there were books, treatises, and other writings of it, what better than to interview someone who had served highly among them? It would be one route to learn of them, learn of them from the source of it, a truly living primary source. It was an appealing idea, and thus when he had heard one of its generals had entered Sith Space... well what was the harm in asking for an interview? The least they could say was no.

Instead, surpassing all expectations, they had said yes, and now Malum, found himself doubting that decision more and more. Was it too late to cance-.

Yes, because there they were.

Walking towards him.

In a very mechanical and very unique bodysuit.

Very much too late to cancel.

He summoned forth feeling to his legs, and took steps forward.

"Welcome to the Palace of Silver Rain, I hope the trip was pleasant and the planet even more so," Polite, warm, all the normal parts of conversation... he was told, "Unless you have any questions for me, perhaps we can adjourn to one of the private rooms and begin the interview?" Oh, gods, why had he not prepared some questions? His mind scrambled, both blaming himself, and considering questions in the short few seconds that he had.

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka's form revealed nothing other than
razor sharp plate, and a nearly blank helmet that seemed to look as though it was in constant judgment. Nothing but a hulking thing, not too dissimilar to the war droids Lirka had made herself oh so familiar with.

As her mighty form approached the palace, the two glowing lenses of the power suit moved to acknowledge Darth Malum of House Marr looking him over for a few moments

"I expected more."

If Lirka was one thing, it was condescendingly blunt

"If you prove yourself worth the effort you may find yourself questioned, until then I am in a good enough mood to humor you, Sithling. Show me to these chambers, and I will gift you the knowledge you so desire."

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Ignoring the feeling of death inside, at the sharp rebukes, Malum lead the way to the private antechamber, away from curious eyes and even more curious students. His mind still hammered forth at what a bad idea this was, but he still maintained, fragily, that this would be an excellent way to learn history from the source. Long, hadn't he despaired that so many primary sources were either lost or incomplete? Well here was a perfect opportunity to preserve one, he had found references to the Sephi nearing almost two centuries in the past, they would certainly know of the past, even if they did not pay vast attention to it.

He nodded towards a seat, as he took the one opposite it, the first question then... and perhaps the most important to provide the context in the account. His holopad was in his hand, as he prepared to note down what was said.

"The first question then, what is your name, your age, your gender, and your home planet?" Simple questions, all to gain knowledge of who they were, and being a good segway into discussing the Confederacy, and then their allegiance to the Sith Empire. Moreover, Malum would admit the middle question was one of idle curiosity, within such a suit, it was hard to determine any gender preference, and at this point, he was not one to hurt his chances in any regard.

Or at the very least that was the plan, they had agreed to this interview sure, but it was dawning on him more and more that it was not for any desire for history, but more to humour him. That was fine, certainly, well not fine, but he could accept it for what it was. Still, it left him in a place of difficulty in judging what they would and would not answer, what was too secretive, what was too personal. Malum supposed this would be what decided that outcome.

The metallic suit hummed, whirred, and purred, he hoped he would have the opportunity to ask about that as well, and more so, though it was crash, curious what lay beneath the suit, likely there were none alive who saw them beneath the suit, thus what the Sephi looked like, would be an interesting point of discussion as they proceeded on. That was still, if, the Sephi was currently interested in proceeding with such personal questions at all.

If not, Malum supposed that he would be fortunate enough to learn more about the inner workings of the Confederacy and the Sith Empire from one who had worked so closely within it first hand. That much would certainly be enough of a victory for him.

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

As they walk, Lirka noted the finery around them: and with it she felt the fantasy of simply burning the whole thing to nothing but ash popped into her mind, though of course she never gave off these grim desires. Her form was a stoic goliath of metal, closer to a war droid than a living and breathing thing, unable to be read by even those Sith who sought to worm their way into the minds of the weak.

She relished that fact, but kept her amusement at the idea to herself for now. Taking a quick look around the room before taking her seat, Lirka could feel the chair underneath her groan at the weight of the suit. A fact she had gotten all too familiar with these days...it was proof that this place lacked the warrior-built designs she favored. Then, she finally address the questions Darth Malum of House Marr put forward.

"How...pathetically simple. I would have expected an interviewer worth their salt to have been able to figure that out already."

She bowed her head slightly to acknowledge his pad

"Write that down, if you would be so kind Sithling. But very well, I will humor your inane questioning. I am Lirka Ka, born of Thustra, I have walked and killed in this Galaxy since before your parents were even a glint in the eyes of their own parents. The years of your species' meager lives flash like blinks, as of now I sit at around a 160 standard cycles. My gender is an irrelevancy of little merit, a bygone of those living within the confines of what the Living Force gave to them upon their creation."

As much as she interjected, Lirka had sure to answer where she could: but in the end, the Sithling needed to be prodded. To see which jab made him squirm, what if any visible weaknesses would etch along his face. But as much as Lirka valued brutish bluntness, she couldn't miss the chance to add a flowery monologue in

"Now, Boy. Are you here to ask me questions or to write the equivalent of the infirmary dossier?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum grits his teeth at the continued insults but did not rise to the bait. He was here for a singular purpose, focus on that goal, this... thing, did not need to be an ally, nor a friend, indeed perhaps it would be better for neither of those outcomes to come about.

One did not live this long without betraying some dear to you.

He sat stiffly in his seat, noting down various words they spoke, and very pointedly not noting down what she had instructed. Interesting flavour for his notes for sure, but at the end of the day rather worthless for his purpose.

"Call it what you will, I'll call it for posterities sake, simple facts that do not need to be reviewed when the time comes, and forgive me for saying so, but your personal details are not exactly easy to come across on the public record." As cold as his words were, they were not exactly inaccurate. One could easily find histories mentioning the armoured figure, some would even be able to mention their name and species, and some even referred to them specifically as a 'she', but it was all sparse, because the fact was, they were an enigma to a galaxy that was an enigma to itself.

Still, he was thankful that the figure even if seemingly annoyed by his simple questions, had answered them. Lirka Ka, born of Thustra, he would need to research the name and planet when he could, it may provide the breakthrough that many in the past had wished for. Of the other interesting note was the age, 160 standard years, that was... a truly mindboggling figure. Malum himself was twenty, this thing before him was eight times older than him. They would have seen numerous galactic polities rise and fall over their lifetimes, what would that kind of view on the galaxy at large do to one's psyche? Still, if he recalled, among the Sephi of the Thustra, that was not too surprising of age, he had heard some of their kind could reach beyond 200 standard years. Still, if Ka had been active during those last 160 years, they were a potential treasure trove of answers.

"Would you prefer this be an infirmary dossier? You are growing with age, after all, perhaps the aging disease has caught up with you." Malum said coyly, cheekily even, as he offered the figure a small smile, what next to ask the creature.

"Why did you fight for the Confederacy, and going deeper into it, what was the Confederacy? I have read histories of an ancient Confederacy of Independent Systems, controlled by Darth Sidious and his apprentice, Darth Tyrannus, who waged war upon the Republic. Was this a revival of that cause?" He knew vaguely of the Confederacy, but in service with his goal, he had refrained from learning too much detail, to learn from the source was the goal, and to do that, he would have to get the source to talk, and bite his talk at biting words.

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

She watched, ever observant, the cold glow of those lenses stalked every movement on his face: every droplet of information that could be gleaned, it had grown so much simpler to read people these days after Lirka had been spending so much time dissecting them. And so she categorized Darth Malum of House Marr like she categorized right among those in the “can keep their temper in check” camp.

“Information is plentiful, one must simply know where to look. Malum of House Marr.”

And of course nothing was easier than a name: another test, of course. If the Sithling proved himself, there was a powerful tool to be found among the curious. It was of course, curiosity that lead to Lirka’s own enlightenment.

“Evidently, you are as poor of a biologist as you are researcher, child. But of course, you only just crawled out from the crib so I suppose I can’t be too harsh on you-“

If he wanted to try and make quips, she’d gladly do it as well. She of course pondered if she was being too light with the boy, a swift reminder that she’d gladly cut out his tongue for a grave enough insult…but unfortunately the thought was quickly tossed aside. This was all politics in the end, after all. Damnable politics, always getting in the way of a good bout of intimidating the youthful and stupid. Lirka paused briefly before continuing, debating how many metaphorical cards to keep to her chest.

“-400 years old, that’s how old my father was when I freed the traitor’s head from his neck. Your human lifespans are like a snap of my finger. I can assure you, my body is plenty fine.”

A complete and utter lie, of course. Even as they spoke her vile form was necrotizing and reknitting itself, the curse of playing god some would say.

A frown appeared beneath her helmet as his question came.

The Confederacy.

The old Lirka.

“The Confederacy…at it’s nature was what the name implied a confederacy of planets working together to enforce the grand ideal of “freedom” and “escapism from Imperialism””

Her utter disgust at the last two concepts was not hidden, even with the distortion from her helmet it was painfully obvious.

“I came to them looking for pay, as a marauder does. At the time I was lost, stalking my way through the galaxy after my long tutelage under the Anzati…I found myself enraptured in their honeyed words and threw myself into their lot, so I spilt blood for the Confederacy, lead their armies, killed their foes, and so I found myself another cog in the machine…”

Another pause

“I know not of ancient Sith, the history of your lot I find tedious. The Confederacy of our age was an ideal of its own, disconnected from historical accounts: as you will find many aspects of our galactic history to be, parodies and specters built up by broken records of the past.”

Lirka kept much to herself still, ultimately. Mainly the fact she had well, died for the Confederacy. There were cards such as that to play one day, but for now there was more probing to be done.

“But what of you, Sithling. Do you find the cause just? The idea of freedom for all, united together to stand as a bulwark against all that would oppress?”

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The remark of 'Sithling' lost its bite with every utterance, but he supposed that was part of the goal, was it not? Establish a relationship based on poisoned words, and that relationship was destined to wither and die away. Perhaps that was the way of Ka, living for so long that all relationships were destined to wither and die, how many had they lost due to the winds of time? As curious as he was, that line of questioning was certainly destined to have them walk out of the room and leave. Focus on the goal, Malum, you are here to learn of the Confederacy and the Sith Empire, now who this person was.

"What do I think of the cause? It sounds idealistic, it sounds like a cause I would have fought for... if I was still a child... though to you I certainly still am a child, aren't I?" Malum said with a sardonic smirk, he could not exactly blame the creature for thinking himself as so, indeed, he still at many times thought of himself as a child. Still very much reliant on his family's money, still clueless about many a thing that others would find common and simple, "Justice, freedom for all, a united bulwark against oppression? One against imperialism? It is all so... beautiful, in a word. I can understand why you would fight for them. Still, your own testimony reveals why it was much darker than all of those things, no? Spilling blood for the Confederacy, leading their armies, killing their foes? Becoming part of a cog of an uncaring machine. Perhaps the sayings of history put it aptly, 'the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.'"

Still, was very interesting. He noted it all down on his holopad, it was simple to find out who made a nation, when it was founded, and where it ruled, he could find that all in his own time, but to find why someone fought for it? To find someone who was still alive to answer why they fought for a long-dead nation, now, was a real gold mine.

They had struck a good point regarding the connection of this Confederacy to the Confederacy of the long past, aligned in reasoning as they may be, they were wholly disconnected from one another, and perhaps was more evidence of the rather cyclical nature of the galaxy. There would always be a Dark Lord of the Sith ruling some Sith state, there would always be a Republic speaking of democratic values, and there would always be the Jedi, claiming to be the protectors of the peace. It was truly odd how in thousands of years of galactic history, these facts seemed to always remain few exceptions. Perhaps one day, when he was too old to fight, too old to worry about the state of the Order, he would write a book on the topic. For all he had been through, history still called to him the most, it seemed.

He shook his head to have those thoughts pass, thinking about what they had said regarding age. He could not make heads nor tails of the tail regarding their father being a traitor, perhaps he would find more when he researched the name, maybe. It was so old, that Ka would certainly have needed to be a prominent person in Thustra for him to find more details regarding their family of all things. Still, with how they talked, and the comment of their father being a traitor, he had a feeling that prominent may just be the tip of that respective iceberg.

Regarding the age, a dry look at the continually buzzing and humming machinery and electronics was all the respect he would give to that claim. There was no way the biological Ka within the suit was healthy within that suit, even if the suit in itself provided great power. He recalled a piece he had read about Darth Vader, how underneath the rather intimidating suit, sat a burn victim, the Chosen One turned to ash, only able to fight on with great pain, within his agonising suit.

Was such the case here?

"Was it within your time within the Confederacy that you gained your new form, this suit? And moreover, why did the Confederacy fall, and why did you stop serving it?"

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

The boy had some promise, that had become the immediate conclusion Lirka reached. Perhaps more probing into the depths of his mind was required, but there was something there she could reach out and try to latch into. But tine would tell if she has read him right.

She listened to his answer, and didn’t even bother to quip at his rhetorical: it felt so painfully obvious that it wasn’t even worth the energy.

“It is the cause of the weak and misguided. History speaks wrongly, the strong dominate and the weak submit or die under the might of the strong. Such is the galactic truth. There is no true darkness to war, it is a holy thing to those enlightened enough to see it.”

And so came the elephant in the room, her second skin, the constant chatter that followed her wherever she went: a thing that felt more natural than her own flesh and blood now.

“No. The suit has been here since before your parents were even born, it simply adapts as its user adapts. As my body is torn asunder and remade, it follows alongside it. It is my masterwork, my grand artistry.”

Lirka would never miss the opportunity to stroke her galaxy sized ego.

“I had well departed the Confederacy by the time it collapsed. Outside invaders, netherworld, I do not recall the official story much beyond the Holo Net. They collapsed because they are weak, as all nations become in time: the Dark devours weakness and in its place leaves only pandemonium. Such is the Dark’s will.”

And there it was, the last two droplets; a hint towards her foul and unnatural form. And the Dark, ever an obscurity to the unseasoned mind, the mark of her true desires for the Galaxy.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"So is it that you only serve the strong then? Why did you move your loyalty, or at least your service to the Sith Empire, and now, towards the Kainite faction of the Sith Order?" He quickly shot out, at the heels of the end of their words, the question was far beyond the purview of the stated reasoning of their interview, yet it was of the matter that he held himself to concern, the suited Sephi was clearly one that considered itself strong, yet what was strength to them? Especially if it seemed that thus far, they had been on the losing side of each faction they served. Was it the strength of the lost cause?

He did not think the creature to be the self-sacrificial type, it was still here, speaking to him, after all.

He noted down idly the words regarding the suit, vague, very vague, but that was most of the conversation. It was odd their explanation had not mentioned how they had come across the suit, though they did imply the suit was of their creation... if that was truly the case... well, it posited some other questions, most pertinent being why they had not replicated the process. However, if they had indeed not made the suit themselves, an even more important question was raised, where did the suit come from? It was clearly old, though what age was in scales between them was a confusing topic, older than his parents were indeed old to him... but for the creature? Not at all similar, did that mean her discovery or creation of the suit had been a recent venture?

More questions to ask, he supposed.

Still, there were other questions more pressing, and as he reviewed the holopad, he realised, it had not answered perhaps the most important of his questions.

"Unfortunate, well then I shall need to make a private study of its fate then, still, you did not quite answer the reasoning for why you departed the Confederacy, had they betrayed the values they extolled? Did you believe them too weak to continue to show your loyalty? Did it have something to do with this 'Dark' that you mention?" Now that was indeed something to ponder, what was this Dark she mentioned, was it the Dark side? Or was it something far more sinister?

The Dark Side, the Darkness, the Dark, Bogan, Boga, all speaking of the Dark side of the Force, all considered evil, yet that was never truly the case. It was the side that saw the truth of the Force, of the power within it, should only one master it, if only one embraced their own humanity, their emotions, their feelings, and drew strength from them. How could anyone find fault in that? How could anyone find fault in the Sith only attempting to free all others through this truth, to combat away the influence of the Jedi that denied this freedom, that only deemed chains to be the path to salvation, that sought nothing more than the status quo that caused pain across the galaxy?

Malum had never denied that the Sith had done terrible things, unforgivable things, yet what acts wrought murder in hot passion, compared to the other in heartless cold blood; the one lasted mere years, the other had lasted millennia. There was a price for freedom, for truth, for knowledge, for anything and all was worth it.

The Sith would pay it if only so no one else would need to sully their own hands.

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

"Why do I serve the Kainate? It's simple really. Because Carnifex gives me what I want, he knows it, I know it. It's what your Sith ilk do after all isn't it? Use people. Seems only proper to try and fit in, besides, he is the Sith'ari after all. Right?"

Maybe it was a dangerous game to reveal so much of her...shaky loyalty...to a complete stranger. But it paid to be at least a little bit honest sometimes, Lirka was a snake, a liar, a back-stabber, a traitor, turncoat, coward, everything under the sun: always motivated by some singular goal that would drive her to the greatest depths of depravity to achieve just to move onto the next. Ceaseless, murderous ambition.

"I left the Confederacy because I saw visions of grandeur. With Mandalore destroyed and Moridinae in its place now rising, I saw the path to reclaim my, former, birthright to the throne of Thustra. Which, when I was a much stupider and younger person, I considered my ultimate goal. To that end, I abandoned the Confederate flag and swore my blade to Emperor Carnifex. In turn he repaid me with governorship over the Mandalorians, who I should state for the record: I still despise. Repulsive people, are they not?"

She was laying it on thick, but this was the closest thing Lirka was having to fun that didn't involve smashing someone's head into a fine red jelly. Besides, if these notes were ever going to find their way to the wider world, might as well remind them of the glory of her dearly departed Moridinae.

"The Dark's revelations would not come till much later, well towards the end of the last Empire and during the Empress's brief reign before the ultimate collapse. A fitting time for such enlightenment, really."

And now came the bard, an inkling of her dark truth to sprinkle out to the world. Starting with Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"He is the claimed Sith'ari, a large amount of the Order believes it, but likely more than two-thirds disagree," Malum said idly, noting down her words, so its loyalty was fickle, born out of needs and functions rather than any true inclination towards the Kainites. He mentally noted that down in particular, he had nothing that could rival what the Fallen Emperor could give, but it was an interesting enough fact to be aware of.

Still, so far it was not out of character for the former Sephi, for one of such age, what was blind loyalty, what was ideology? Still, even in saying that, it was odd for them to reference the Sith'ari as if it was a factor in their allegiance, limited or not. Or were they saying that the claimed Sith'arihood was a good enough reason, even if they did not place it highly?

The fickleness of its loyalty was only reinforced, though it was not fickleness that he could really judge, one's loyalty was to one's self above all, as his keyboard continued to tap and clack, noting down every word it made. Could the betrayal of a failing system truly be blamed, especially if the opposition provided a reward for the betrayal? "I cannot say I have ever met a Moridinizid, so I cannot comment personally, but our teachings do provide enough to go off," The irony of that being said by a Sith to a monster, was entirely lost on him. Its words were all interesting, a claim to the throne of Thustra, he certainly would need to look into it seemed, Moridinae, the Sith name for the world Mandalore, to be named its governor though, that was either a privilege or a task made for failure.

He doubted the prideful Moridinizids would easily accept a foreigner as their leader.

Still, Moridinae was a good springboard for Thustra, it was rather nearby after all. Perhaps that was why Moridinae had been so tempting of a governorship.

"Governor of Mordinae, a ready-made warlike people, an army, only a few jumps away from Thustra, might I ask why you did not succeed in your ambition?" Something had happened to Mordinae, though what exactly, he was not certain.

As it spoke of certain revelations, he understood... perhaps, the Dark side was a seductive thing, an enlightening thing, but he had a feeling what conclusions he made, were far different from the conclusions that it had.

"What were those revelations, exactly?"

Was it of Carnifex's claim to Sith'arihood? Was it more reason to serve the Sith rather than the remnants of the Confederacy? Or was it something far more abstract, philosophical? Or something indeed far more grim?

He was held at rapt attention, his keyboard making its stroke, recording every word, recording all thoughts both physical and mental.

Lirka Ka

 

[Lirka Ka]

The words of Darth Malum of House Marr seemed to bring some semblance of amusement to the beast's cold heart. The infighting of the Sith was a not inconsiderable part of what kept her so enthralled in their grasp. Destructive tendencies came as all but second nature. Something chortled out of her helmet, a vile distorted laughter that quickly turned into a simple statement.

"And yet, Sithling, 2/3rds of the Galaxy would disagree with our continued existence. No?"

The opinion of the rabble. Such a meaningless thing, the unenlightened cretins that crawled their way through their meager existences. Unaware of the futility of their existence straining against the Dark's eternal truth. She saw much of the same naivety in this boy, it mattered not what colors the unenlightened wore, Sith, Jedi, everything in between. They all existed beneath Lirka's view.

"Consider yourself lucky! They reek of oil, sweat, and cheap booze! Foul creatures, truly. You see, their people meant nothing to me. The One-True-Emperor Carnifex may have made me Governor in name, but in truth, I was but a Butcher. I oversaw the death of their people, and sundering of their families. Hunted like animals for their crimes against the Empire. A fitting punishment."

For as much relish as she had in her voice recounting her actions on Moridinae, there was casualness to the discussion of her heinous crimes. As though they were nothing but another step on the path.

"Ah, you see, I did succeed. For a time I sat on a throne taken by my rightful-might. Taken from those who would have seen the world decay into a laughable thing. I took my Father's head clean from his neck and dubbed myself Thustra's first, and last, Empress for a time. A short-lived venture as in success I found nothing but emptiness. That is where I found the truth of the Dark."

She paused for a moment to let her words linger.

"The Dark is primordial annihilation, the death of all things. It is suffering, decay, rot. The fall of Empires and the death of worlds. And it is a beautiful thing, for I learned the truth: only the greatest will stand at the end, the strong shall brawl over the last scraps of reality before the Dark takes us all. I intend to be there at the end, and the more suffering inflicted on this Galaxy more of the Strong will rise from the ashes, while those too weak will wither and crumble underneath the misery of it all."

A cruel outlook on life, to say the least.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He paused his incessant typing as the guttural laughter emerged from the helmed head of the once Sephi, he had not imagined nor intended to say any words amusing, but yet still, here the laugher was, were they... mocking him? He could not so confidently say, however, as red eyes narrowed, it rankled upon pride.

Only for their voice to break through the chortles, his eyes returning to the flickering icey blue optics, "...Two thirds? I could not confidently say, we have many a foe, but if we imagine it is the truth, what does it say, two thirds of the galaxy wishing for our extermination, while two thirds of the remaining third refuse to recognise Darth Carnifex as Sith'ari, hardly promising odds, yes?" It would be a matter he would have to look into at some further point, he had always known the galaxy was a dangerous place, especially for their kind, one did not form eleven Sith Empires, with others not considered canon to their histories, if the galaxy was welcoming to their truth...

...But still, two thirds? He did not quite know if it was an overestimation of their numbers, or an underestimation of their enemy's, either way it concerned him... nay, scared him. The Sith prided themselves on standing on their strength, their power, but did they so stand alone? Their histories spoke of alliances with many a force in the galaxy... even the Moridinizids, but, he supposed it had been a long time to consider it possible that there would be allies in that direction.

Moridinae remained a burned out husk, and the Moridinizids secluded to their Enclave, without their so-called Mand'alor.

He parsed his lips at her answer, animals he knew them to be, were taught of how they were, but still, curiosity still brimmed in him. What did he expect from such meeting? He hardly could imagine, it was not like animals could speak, at least not in a way that was legible...

...Yet, for what they had done to Dromund Kaas... perhaps what had been done to Moridinae was justified, but in the end...

...Blood only beget blood, did it not?

"...The histories paint a bloody picture of the success of you, Darth Carnifex, and Darth Prazutis, but..." He paused a moment, unsure if it would cause the once Sephi offense, "...An act so profound, so destructive, only holds success if the enemy is annihilated, yet, the Moridinizids as outnumbered as they are, continue to persist, a permanent foe, could not then Hammerfall be considered a failure?" It bristled upon his sensibilities to discuss a topic such as genocide in such... clinical terms, but that was in the end, exactly what cold calculus devolved into it.

One of the worst excesses of the Zambrano regime.

Yet, such excesses, failings, and overeach did not stem only from the top, but too the subordinates which chose to follow him, he turned his eyes away from the Kainite hulk, as he tapped away on his keyboard... he sat next to a kinslayer, one who killed their own father... after hearing all of which they had said, was it any surprise they would break this taboo too?

"...Was your rule of Thustra, any similar to your rule over Moridinae?" They spoke of a world decaying into a laughable thing under the realm of others, but what of their rule?

Yet, somehow, in the end, it was their speaking of the Dark, the Darkside of the Force, he assumed, which took his attention most of all. His fingers ceasing their endless pursuit of recording all which was necessary to record, as his eyes gazed upwards, tilting in question, long raven locks swaying in the breeze as his eyes narrowed.

"...One would think you would fit in better with our heretical Mawite cousins, than here... I have heard many interpretations of the Force and the Darkness in my life, only from them, has it been so grim." So why, why were they here, with this immortal tyrant so content with accepting this stagnant status quo, even utter destruction would have been... some sort of progress, rather than simply the existence of present...

Lirka Ka
Mentioned: Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis

 

[Lirka Ka]

It was a fair assessment to expect mockery from Lirka, for such things flowed out of her like water does in a stream. But what came next was something closer to amusement at the naivety that Darth Malum of House Marr presented her with.

"Two-thirds is an underestimation, boy. You can not confidently say because you do not understand the true scope of how much this Galaxy hates. It is simply the Way of the Dark. And what does it say? It says two-thirds of the Galaxy is weak! Pathetic squabbling creatures that will crumble before us. Strength does not beget love, Acolyte. Remember it well, it may save you one day."

Lirka would stand alone at the end of time if it meant remaining strong, an ironic ideology for a creature to be wracked by the decay of her own unnaturally devised form. The acolyte parsed his words carefully, and Lirka could almost respect him for it. Acolytes were funny like that, till they shed their skin and became the obnoxious sort of Sith Lirka had found herself used to. It was bold to even attempt to call her masterwork a "failure", and this boy gained some of her respect for the sheer boldness of it.

"And as history continues, the bloody list of the Diarchy's doings will only grow. Do you notice my wording, Acolyte? Continue. You may think my masterwork a failure because the Mandalorians were not wiped from the face of the Galaxy, but they suffered, they wept, their world torn apart and their armies scattered for a time. And that is good enough for mortal men. We, creatures of this material plain, do not dictate the end. Only the Dark can do such things. It is no different to the endless war of Jedi and Sith, the cycle of destruction and rebirth will continue till the dark bids it time, and the universe will grow cold, empty, and dead."

What an obnoxiously flowery excuse to say "yeah maybe it was". But Lirka was too much of a narcissist to ever truly admit she failed at something. Now, unfortunately, the boy had decided to bring up Thustra: a subject so unfortunately sore. Perhaps that would be considered her most grandiose failure in life.

"No. Moridinae was a butchery under the guise of rebirth, my desires for Thustra were that of true cultural redesign. The artistry of war, enough to make my people respected once again. A brutal business, of course, the hammer must strike to forge the blade after all. But my rule of Thustra was a brief thing, a lesson from Primordial Dark about foolhardiness and ambition."

Now following up Thustra with the Maw? Now the boy tried her patience, and Lirka's tone grew more aggravated almost immediately.

"My tenure with the Mawites was...brief, and bloody. I spent much of my time among the tomes and artifacts of Rhand, joined their horde on Csilla as we turned the world into a splotch, then I was ousted. Left adrift before returning to the gracious and welcoming arms of Lord Carnifex."

She clicked her claws on the table in front of her, perhaps a healthier habit than deciding to let her simmering rage out on the boys face with a metal fist.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The glower was evident at his lids, his lips parsed into a frown, boy... such was the trouble of standing upon the shoulders of still-living giants, they still had the capability to mock and scorn, those that rose forth, readying to replace them. Yet, in the beat of a second, his lips were back to their thinned neutrality, his eyes empty apart from the coldness of nothing. He had been trained his entire life to be the actor, and the facade broke for the barest second was his own failing, he had his role, and he would achieve it.

Even in the face of humiliation.

"...I'll keep it in mind, Slavemaster General," Malum replied stiffly, taking in her words, but as was his way, there was very little of them that he would or could accept, "...Yet, our enemies as much as structurally flawed as they are, cannot be called weak," His gaze darkened as he realised a desire to take a step that might be one too far, "...After all, the Tenth Empire would not have fallen due to their weakness, would it have?" The implication resounded throughout the room; it did not fall to their enemies' weakness, but weakness... weakness of some sort, of some failing, did play its part.

He continued to tap away on his keyboard, an escape from the urge to narrow his eyes, and feel in his heart, those emotions that the Darkness prayed upon, that persuaded him, seduced him to let abound, "Continue to fail?" Yet, he could not help himself truly, fully, "You caused animals to suffer, congratulations, their single world destroyed for the crimes that befall Dromund Kaas, but what of our suffering? A Sith Empire that spanned the cosmos brought low, by the weakness of our leaders, by the weakness of their soldiers, call it cycles if you wish, make yourself subordinate to the Darkness if you wish, but annihilation is not the path we are condemned, destined, to walk," His words were growled out in quick succession, the lessons of etiquette and composure thrown out to the wayside in the face of this absolute faith, this fanaticism, that he did not share. They had failed them, they had failed him. He had nothing but the most particular feeling for the Twice-Failed Emperor.

"Our people suffered, they wept, our worlds torn apart and our armies scattered as we faced annihilation, and like days past faced extinction, do not tell me it is some cycle, that it was ordained, it was failure brought about by weakness, continue it if you wish, but the Sith shall never again be placed under such rule." It was idiotic, beyond idiotic to confess all this here, and now.

But here he was nonetheless.

He mentally noted the words regarding Thustra and Csilla, they were in the end unsurprising, but as his knees buckled, and pushed to stand, he was in little mood to do more recording.

"...My condolences regarding both events then," He finished stiffly.

Realising, that if Darth Carnifex had welcomed them back, likely the loyalty ran far deeper than he had thought.

Lirka Ka
Mentioned: Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis

 

[Lirka Ka]

He needed but frown for a moment for Lirka to feel the swell of joy she always did upon making someone else’s day even slightly worse. The boundless pettiness of a murderer, one could suppose. Taunting and toying with Acolytes was one of the few ways Lirka could have her “fun” when dealing with the Sith, and she took those chances readily.

Even if she found herself rather bemused with this Darth Malum of House Marr as time progressed. Even if he had forced the coin to flip to ire with his careless wording. There was a pride in him, a fire that almost reminded Lirka of herself when she was a much younger, brasher, less necrotized woman.

“Can not be called weak? I just did. Because they are.

Har har.

“I live my life in simplicity, and it has shaped the enlightenment I have been able to receive about the Galaxy. The strong live, the weak die. The strong rule, the weak obey. Yes, I understand your implications Malum Marr: Carnifex lead an Empire too weak to survive, but he abandoned it. As did I. Because it was weak, and the weak die. That is the primal truth of this Galaxy.”

A callous way to discuss something as destruction as the Sith-Imperial civil war. And even more ironic considering the fact that well…Lirka served. But the Once-Sephi was many things, hypocrite sitting as one of the highest.

His rage grew, and as it did the grin underneath Lirka’s helmet did as well. Good. Let the boy get mad, let his rage simmer forth. The Sith would thank her for it in the end, that is what they would boundless yap about, rage and passion and chains and every other bit of driveling nonsense she didn’t understand or believe for a second.

“You make one mistake, my dear boy. They are your people. Not mine. My people are on Thustra, languishing away in their own ineptitude. I am no Sith, you can sense that yourself. Feel the void around me, feel the emptiness of my being: the Force has rejected me. What good is a Sith that can not channel your kinds’ precious tricks?”

Always the outsider, the wretched curse of her existence would never truly let Lirka feel at home among the Sith. Staring eyes judging her emptiness, her otherness from those able to channel the gifts the Empire so praised. Only one had given her a place to call home, an allegiance to wield.

“So what of your peoples’ suffering? Good! Suffer! You don’t get it yet, I can see it in your eyes. You deny the Dark, you can not fathom that all things must end: that you are not in control of when all you build will crumble and decay. We must suffer, it is the litmus test by which the Dark judges our worthiness to existence. You will suffer, you must suffer. In suffering we grow stronger, we rise above suffering and are reforged in might. To be strong! To survive!”

Her fire grew brighter, not with rage this time, but a passion, the fire of an orator wishing to impart some holy wisdom. But what were they really but the ravings of a madwoman?

But, the fire faded as he stood. And Lirka realized she was sharing her wisdom to deaf ears, he was a boy. How could he truly understand what she had learned? Too young to have suffered like she had, to be reborn in the fires of agony both metaphorically and literally. Finding her emotions cooling, her desire to jest rose in its place. A capstone to this attempt at a “lesson”, if one could even call it that.

“Acolyte, do not waste time with condolences. With how much I have suffered over the century of my life, we would be here all cycle.”

She followed his example and rose as well. Was Lirka loyal to Carnifex, truly? Perhaps. Lirka didn’t know where she stood anymore, and really? She was naught but a prisoner wearing the veneer of a warrior. A fly trapped in the Butcher King’s web.