"A thousand swords are better than none."
An old saying, one that he heard plenty of times from both his father and his uncle. It was something that he had taken with him across the many decades and the hundreds, if not thousands, of battlefields he'd witnessed. He'd come to know another truth as well, but this one he had discovered on his own.
A thousand swords are better than one, but the Dark Side of the Force renders all irrelevant.
"I accept your fealty and tribute, Lord Clarmore. I have no doubt that you and your bannermen will serve the Empire well. For your oath of loyalty, I will grant you a considerable plot of land on any world in the Empire of your choosing; to house you, your family, and your soldiers. Your children will be tutored by the Empire in prestigious academies, groomed for inevitable service once they come of age. A tithe will be collected in accordance with your overall wealth and income, and you will be expected to sire more children for the glory of the Empire. As for yourself, you will prepare yourself for service within the military; an advanced rank will be granted to your in accordance with your skill in arms, strategy, and organization."
Such terms had been laid before many noble houses before, and a good majority of them had accepted and were an integral part of the Sith Empire's military aristocracy. Those who had resisted or refused had forfeited their one chance, and thusly no longer existed once the Empire had ground their house and lineage into dust. The Emperor was considered to be a just ruler, rewarding to those who prove their loyalty, but unrelenting against those who fought against him. With one hand he rose up others to magnificence, and with the other he salted the earth of his enemies.
"Openly make the vow; I swear this sacred oath that I shall render unconditional obedience to Emperor Zambrano, to exercise every power in service to the Tenth Sith Empire, and shall, whensoever I am asked, be prepared, as a loyal servant, to surrender my life for this oath."