Private A Following

[Nyxira Valis]

The storm had not yet abated over Dromund Kaas, its crimson-tinged fury a constant companion to Nyxira Valis as she moved through the shadowed streets of Kaas City. Whispers had reached her ears — an echo of dissent, of destruction, of a name that had risen on the lips of both fearful and intrigued Sith alike: Jogon. A name carried on the winds of turmoil, attached to deeds that had disrupted the tenuous web of control held by the Kainites.

It was not the trouble itself that interested her; such chaos was commonplace among the Sith. It was the opportunity it represented. If this Jogon could be useful, an ally or a pawn in her greater game, he would serve her purposes. If not, he would fall like the rest. Nyxira had no time for weakness — or for those who stood in her way.

The Dark Side coiled thickly in the air as she approached the area where rumors of Jogon's last appearance lingered. Her violet eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, swept over the crumbling buildings and shadowy alleyways of the city's underbelly. This was where the tendrils of power unraveled, where ambition met desperation, and where the strong carved their names into the galaxy.

Her steps were deliberate, her presence radiating the cold command of a storm contained within human form. Those she passed — looters, mercenaries, and Sith hopefuls — shrank from her, sensing her overwhelming authority. The few bold enough to meet her gaze quickly turned away, their courage snuffed out by the weight of her power. Reaching a crowded cantina rumored to be a haven for malcontents and outcasts, Nyxira stepped inside, the atmosphere shifting instantly as her presence filled the room. Conversations halted mid-sentence, eyes darted toward her and then quickly away, and the Force itself seemed to hold its breath.

She moved to the center of the room, her voice cutting through the oppressive silence like a blade. "Jogon," she said, her tone low and sharp, commanding the attention of every being present.

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

Jogon looked at the cards he'd been dealt and frowned. "Fold," he announced to the other players. The dashade dropped his cards and folded his arms sullenly.​

​

All his hands sucked - both at pazaak and in life. Darth Solipsis was gone and his Sith followers had disintegrated into nothing. Like a fart in a cyclone: no more Emperor, no more New Sith Order. Coruscant? A joke and a fiasco. Maybe Jogon would split too if he'd been in charge of that. He gave a dissatisfied grunt and stared off in the distance. The other people at his table glanced nervously before continuing the round.​

​

They were worried, of course. A big, grumpy lizard-man with a nasty disposition was liable to flip the table and kill them. But he had other outlets for that, not random pissants. These past few weeks had left a string of Kainate functionaries littered around Kaas city with missing limbs, bashed brains, and crushed ribcages. Plus a couple of dead Sith Knights. You know the type. Who could've done a thing like that?​

​

Jogon. It was Jogon. And while it didn't improve his hand, it did improve his mood.​

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Suddenly the doors flung open. The air went cold and the normal grim cantina ambience shut off like someone had pulled the plug. It was a woman. Human or something close; taller than Jogon thought they could get. He was waiting for something interesting to happen, but then she said his name. That cycled right past interesting and straight to dangerous. Jogon rubbed his chin - the people at his table quickly scraped their credits off the surface and scurried elsewhere.​

​

He looked at her and, because he'd seen worse, he stayed seated. "Yeah. That's me. Who's looking?"​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's gaze snapped to the source of the voice, her violet eyes locking onto Jogon with a weight that seemed to push the room further into silence. She allowed a moment to stretch, her presence pressing down on the cantina like the storm outside, heavy and unrelenting. The crowd, sensing the charged air between the two, withdrew even further, leaving an almost perfect void around them.

Jogon remained seated, his imposing figure radiating defiance, but Nyxira caught the subtle tension in his movements, the way his hand lingered near his side, ready to spring into action if needed. His composure intrigued her — a man who wasn't cowed by her presence was a rare find. Dangerous, yes, but that only made him more useful.

And far more interesting.

She stepped closer, her boots clicking softly against the worn floor, the sound almost deafening in the hushed cantina. Nyxira's lips curved into a faint smile, though it carried no warmth. She tilted her head slightly, her piercing eyes scanning him as though she were peeling back layers of his very being. "You've been busy. The Kainites are good at keeping their grip tight, yet here you are, prying fingers loose. A bold move for someone who walks alone." Her gaze flicked briefly to the abandoned table, then back to him.

She took another step forward, stopping just short of his personal space. Her presence felt like a storm compressed into a human form, ready to strike. "But I don't care about the scraps you've left behind. I care about what you want. You didn't cut a swath through their ranks just to play cards in the gutter."

Her smile faded, replaced by a sharp, dangerous edge. "I'm here because I think we might have something in common. The Kainites are in my way. " She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "And I can crumble everything they've built, with some help."

Nyxira straightened, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and challenge. "I'm Darth Nythera," she continued, as her posture straightened and a hand rose to her raven hair, "And I'm here to kill this world's ruler."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

​

She started walking towards him. Good grief. Jogon could feel the Dark Side radiating off of her, like a wind so cold and so fierce it stung. It'd have been an intoxicant if it hadn't been trying to kick his fight-or-flight instinct into high gear.​

​

Prying fingers loose, she said. Was that what he was doing? There was no grand plan or scheme on his part. The bottom-feeders of the Kainate disgusted him, and he was strong, and they were weak. Creepy, too. And while their overlords were many things - creepy included - they weren't weak. Jogon couldn't see himself facing them any time soon. Apparently Darth Nythera felt differently. She talked a big game, but so did most Darths with an axe to grind.​

​

The dashade grumbled and rose slowly from his seat once she had mercifully withdrawn from his personal space. His chair scraped the ground behind him. To no one's surprise, Jogon was taller. Not to the degree he would have liked, but all the same. Jogon stared at her with a furrowed brow for a long moment before a mean smile split his face.​

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"Strong words, Darth Nythera," he said, canting his head to one side. "You'd need an army to even challenge this world's ruler."​

​

She could sense him now as he allowed his presence to unfurl: a bulwark of the Dark Side, strong and steady, neatly contained within a labyrinth of machinery. Jogon's presence in the Force loomed like a mountain with innards of circuitry and metal.​

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His languid, reptilian eyes flicked past her and to the door she had so brazenly walked through. "Is yours waiting outside?"​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's smirk deepened as Jogon rose, his towering presence casting a shadow that matched the force of his Dark Side energy. He was taller, yes, and his power was formidable — a storm contained within the rigid precision of his mechanical frame. Yet there was something satisfying about the subtle tension in his posture, the way he kept his movements measured, as though he knew that one misstep could bring the storm crashing down.

She took her time before replying, letting the silence stretch between them like a taut wire, her violet eyes locking onto his with a predator's patience. "An army?" she echoed, her tone edged with amusement. "You're observant," she said, her voice low and smooth, like a blade sliding from its sheath.

She took a step closer, her movements fluid, predatory, and stopped just within the range of his towering shadow. Her gaze never wavered, her smirk fading into a calm, unreadable expression. "But an army alone will not tear down an Empire either. It needs leaders who are not afraid to bleed."

Her hand rose slightly, a faint crackle of crimson-tinged energy sparking between her fingers. "The Kainites are an obstacle that have held power for too long without such opposition, and such weakness must be challenged and removed."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression sharp as her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "You've fought them, spilled their blood, felt their weakness. Now I'm giving you the chance to finish what you started. Others will rally to this cause — some already have — and they will not be ready for the storm."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

The dashade listened well. And when she was finished, he chuckled: a deep and roiling sound. That was a 'no' on the army. No mooks, no lieutenants, just a whole lot of words and a miasma of Sith power. Well, he'd already once followed a boastful sorcerer. What was one more? Her aims were at least more tangible than... What had Solipsis wanted? Total galactic expurgation? Something like that. Frankly he hadn't concerned himself with the details.​

​

Jogon followed the strongest side. That was all he had ever known. And if he felt they could offer him a good deal, all the better. He eyed the crimson lightning darting between her fingers. "Finish what I started?" He laughed again. "It's not personal. Neither is this."​

​

He had no business being as fast as he was. The Dark Side coursed through him, amplified the nanites that crawled through his bloodstream and the biomotors that moved his limbs. One second he was only standing, arms folded, and the next a right-hook that could smash duracrete was flying for Nyxira's jaw.​

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Determining the strongest side required a willingness to engage in empirical study. ​

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Sometimes empirical study manifested itself as a sucker punch.​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

​

Nyxira's violet eyes narrowed slightly as Jogon moved, the sudden shift from stillness to action nearly imperceptible to the average observer. But she was not average. Her predator's instincts, honed through years of Sith training and countless battles, anticipated the strike even as it came hurtling toward her.

The crackling crimson lightning between her fingers flared to life, and with a sharp motion, she raised her hand as if to intercept the incoming punch. The impact reverberated through the air as his fist met her power, the force of the blow absorbed by the crackling energy that now formed a barrier around her body. Sparks flew, illuminating the room in violent flashes, but Nyxira stood her ground, unyielding.

Her lips curled into a dangerous smile, one that spoke of both amusement and malice. "Not personal?" she echoed, her voice low and edged with dark amusement. "I wouldn't expect it to be."

With a sudden twist of her wrist, she redirected the Force in an attempt to send him flying across the room. She took a deliberate "Testing the storm?" she whispered, her voice smooth yet carrying the weight of her power. "Clever. But you should know, Jogon, that storms don't yield. They destroy."

Whether or not her attack worked, she took several steps forward and narrowed her gaze, "I admire your boldness," she said, her tone calm yet laced with authority. "Strength respects strength, after all. But if you think brute force alone will measure my worth— or yours — you're mistaken."

Her gaze locked onto his, unflinching, her presence pressing against his like the weight of the storm outside. "If you want to stand with me, Jogon, then show me something more than fists. Show me cunning, resolve, and the willingness to destroy those who would rule unchallenged."

She crossed her arms, her smirk softening into an expression of quiet challenge. "Or keep swinging, if you prefer. I'm not so easily broken."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

​

Jogon went hurtling - no small feat considering the size of him - and slammed into the wall. He felt the plaster crack against him and slumped into a disgruntled seated position. The corners of his vision flashed briefly with warning signs: sudden impact, trauma, collision... All the good stuff. But only for a moment. ​

​

He grumbled and rubbed his head like that had done a real number on him. He could feel now that his knuckles had been scalded. That was new and exciting, at least. Jogon couldn't rightly say he had ever thrown hands with someone who could conjure lightning shields. ​

​

He did some quick calculus. Lizard math, he liked to call it. Maybe if he prolonged the engagement he could hit her over the head with a table or something and that'd be good enough. Or maybe she'd fry him and make him into a handbag. But he wouldn't really get anything out of the former and he definitely wouldn't get anything out of the latter.​

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The dashade hacked out a ragged sigh and slowly stood, "No. I'm sold. You want something, I'll do it."​

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One burly arm reached over his shoulder and started dusting off the stray plaster.​

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"But it better be good."​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's smirk deepened as Jogon rose, his massive frame shaking off the remnants of their brief clash. She admired his resilience and pragmatism — qualities that often proved more useful than raw power alone. His agreement came with a hint of grudging respect, and that was enough for her purposes.

"Good," she said, her tone smooth but edged with authority. "I don't waste time with hollow gestures or empty promises."

She began to circle him slowly, her piercing violet eyes locking onto his as she continued. "The Kainites have ruled with impunity for far too long, their grasp over Dromund Kaas stifling the true potential of the Sith. They cling to power like cowards, hiding behind armies and politics. What I need is someone who can shatter their illusions of control. Someone who can tear through their obstacles and make way for something far greater."

Nyxira stopped directly in front of him, her gaze unwavering as the storm outside rumbled in agreement. "Your strength, your tenacity — they can serve my purpose well. I need someone who can neutralize threats before they become problems. Someone who can handle the brute force that my plans may require, while I deal with... subtler matters."

"You will have your chance to prove yourself, Jogon. Not just as a blunt instrument, but as a force to be reckoned with."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

​

No hollow gestures? No empty promises? Now there was a refreshing change of pace if he ever heard one. She outlined again her distaste with the Kainate. They could have made off with her lunchbox for all it mattered. One vendetta was as good as any other.​

​

Nyxira was staring at him again. He could see the flash of ambition in her eyes, like lightning strikes. It was pure will-to-power. He was beginning to get the sense that his attachment to this crusade was more of an inevitability than anything else. This was the storm that would swallow Dromund Kaas whole. Either ride the wind or get blown off-world.​

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"Yeah, I can do that," Jogon nodded sagely, as if he had agreed to do something far more profound than crush skulls and smash barriers. "But I want a castle at the end of this. Here, on Kaas."​

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Every Sith needed a retirement plan. Not every Sith knew that, though. Jogon smiled wryly, self-satisfied with his own bluntness and short-sighted desires. Everyone wanted a castle...​

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"Give me a target. Who's first?"​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening at Jogon's blunt demand. His desire for a castle amused her, but it also revealed a certain clarity in his ambition. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't afraid to say it — a trait she could respect, even if it was as straightforward as claiming a piece of Dromund Kaas for himself.

"A castle," she mused, her voice laced with mock contemplation. "On Dromund Kaas, no less. Bold. But boldness suits you, Jogon."

Her smirk softened into a knowing smile, though the sharp glint in her violet eyes remained. "You'll get your castle. Once the Kainites are torn from their thrones, and their grip over this world is shattered."

Nyxira took a step back, her gaze narrowing as the storm outside roared with renewed vigor. "We'll start with their followers. The Sith who bow without question, who bend the knee to the Kainites not out of strength, but fear and complacency. They're a cancer to the Sith Order. A blight on everything we should be."

Her voice hardened, carrying the weight of conviction. "They have no ambition, no vision. They exist only to serve, content to live in the shadow of greater power. They are the foundation upon which the Kainites have built their empire — and we will tear that foundation apart, piece by piece."

The storm outside rumbled in agreement, crimson lightning illuminating her figure as she turned toward the darkened horizon. "Your first target will be revealed soon," she said over her shoulder, her voice cutting through the charged air. "I have not familiarized myself with the names of the roaches who lick Kainite heels, but we'll find suitable targets together."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

Jogon cracked a faint smile at her words. "Sith's gotta eat." ​

​

Revealed soon, eh? Jogon could hear the thunder outside. He supposed this was the problem with storms - powerful, sure, but they just sort of went... Wherever. Plans were short-term for a hurricane. You could have a bunch of men in holonet broadcasts pointing at charts trying to predict where it'd go, but it's all guesswork. The storm doesn't even know. Why would anyone else?​

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"Sounds like a blast," He cracked his knuckles absently, or perhaps in anticipation. The dashade at least sounded enthused. These were tantalizing descriptions after all: tearing people from thrones, ripping out foundations. "So, what? You want me to wait around here 'till you have something? You got a lair I should use?"​

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He glanced around the bar. Partially rearranged from everyone's quick exit, plus one table overturned by their scuffle and a Jogon-sized dent in the wall immediately behind him.​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira turned her sharp, violet gaze back to Jogon, her smirk deepening as she caught his enthusiasm. His bluntness and appetite for chaos were exactly what she needed for the path ahead. The storm outside roared faintly in agreement, a low rumble that mirrored her rising anticipation.

"I do have a place on Dromund Kaas," Nyxira said, her voice smooth but laced with an edge of command. "A stronghold where we can operate for now. It's modest compared to what I have elsewhere, but it will suffice. For now, Dromund Kaas is our proving ground."

Her gaze lingered on the wreckage of the bar, the chaos left in the wake of their encounter. A faint smirk tugged at her lips as her focus shifted back to Jogon. "And I have just the task to get us started."

She stepped closer, her tone sharpening with purpose. "We need to grab attention, to shake the Kainites and their followers from their comfort. A show of force that will send a clear message — a warning. We will target one of their assets on this world. Something critical enough to matter, but not so vital that it will spark a civil war."

Nyxira's smirk widened slightly, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I'll select the target soon — perhaps one of their supply depots or a garrison. Something they'll feel, but won't see coming. Your part will be simple: lead the strike. Make it loud, make it brutal, and make sure they understand that no amount of servitude will protect them from what's coming."

She gestured faintly toward the exit, the storm outside punctuating her words with a crack of crimson lightning. "Once I have the details finalized, I'll summon you. For now, you may use my stronghold or go wherever you please."

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Nyxira Valis

Jogon raised an eyebrow. Elsewhere? He wondered where elsewhere was. He'd kill (and was going to, certainly) for one castle, and apparently she already had at least one. The one around here was 'more modest' too... Well, Jogon would learn all her secrets soon enough. Working in close proximity had that effect.​

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A dark hunger grew behind his eyes as she outlined her plans. Lead the raids, sack the supply depots, torch the garrisons. He'd done all this before whether he'd led it or not. It was a good routine, but now it'd be in service to a higher cause. It might even mean something - in the sense he'd get something worthwhile out of it this time... Not just a few new scars and a mean reputation.​

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Although the mean reputation did come in handy.​

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Jogon cracked his knuckles one at a time. It was as close to a signal of giddy anticipation as he would ever get, and it sounded faintly like steel clicking against steel. "You want loud and brutal, you picked right. Fine. You'll know where to find me."​

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He looked ready to leave, but his eyes glanced between the doorway - which briefly lit up with the crack of crimson lighting - and Darth Nythera.​

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"You got an umbrella or...?"​