Private A Hell of Your Own Making [ Darth Morrow ]

[Vaulkhar]

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Iridonia
New Iridonia
Amaranthine Palace

The greatest of ironies often came when least expected, or so Vaulkhar thought. Darth Carnifex and his following considered the threat posed by the bastard and his allies nothing more than a minor nuisance. If the circumstances surrounding the display of dissent were different, perhaps the Dark Council would've been right. Yet, the shadows blind them to the truth of the powers on their very doorstep. While smaller in size, the New Imperial Order boasts fearsome warriors, cunning generals, and a cause many were willing to die for. As the Sith-Imperial regime preached their power to the territories beneath them, declaring the fledgling forces of the budding Imperials weak, the Order prepared to fight what could be their last war in the name of something far more significant than any-one man. It might've been the reason the fallen Jedi chose to strike out on his own to New Iridonia to meet with its queen, Darth Morrow, formerly of the Sith Empire. The actions taken thus far have proven successful almost every step of the way, with numerous planets falling under the New Imperial Order's control since the Declaration of Dissidence. It would be foolish to allow Iridonia to stand divided when the forces held by the two monarchs could provide aid to the coming battle.​

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Beside the Iridonian King, an albino Zabrak stood patiently. Within her grasp, she held a datapad containing the information on the appointed meeting between both Darth Morrow and Vaulkhar. She looked upon her King with a sense of confusion, eyeing the bouquet he held within his slender, pale fingers. The nature of his actions always confused her, especially with his return to Iridonia and his apparent malformation. She, along with many others within his service, remember what Vaulkhar once was. An honorable man, taken in by the former planet-wide King, Krest Novar. She remained in his service and believed in the returned king, even in the face of such odd behavior. While he would never outright say it, a part of Vaulkhar appreciated such simplicities. It reminded him of far better days.​

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"Zarhva, I can feel your confusion," Vaulkhar shifted his attention to the attendant, his crimson gaze meeting her brown eyes. "What is it?"​

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"I apologize, my King. I do not mean to prod, but I must admit, your behavior this day has confused me greatly," Zarhva lowered the datapad to her side and clipped it into place on her belt, before stepping forward. "You seek an audience with Darth Morrow, former concubine to the Dark Lord himself. We stand within her halls, rather than our home, all the while, you hold onto a dozen black-petalled flowers. I feel as if this is a paltry gift for a Queen, your eminence."​

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Vaulkhar's lips turned up in a faint smile. "You may be right, Zarhva. Though, I believe there is far more at play than what we see upon the surface," he answered his servant honestly. "My service to the Sith-Imperial regime taught me to question everything around me. When in the field, you do not go half-cocked into every battle. You observe your prey, you prepare for the fight, you engage them at their weakest, and then you study what they once were. When I have observed the Queen of Horror, I have seen a most beautiful woman, left to her own devices by her narrow-minded husband. In preparation for this moment, I have decided the best course of action will be providing her with the respect her station demands. And as I'm sure you know, Zhavra, you do not go empty-handed to a meeting with a Queen. These flowers, though small in size, are a rare beauty cultivated only within our city. If I am right about our lovely host, she will find value in them. If I am wrong, I must adapt and overcome the challenges before us."​

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Zarhva listened silently, turning up a brow at her King's words. She hadn't expected such a response from the man, so her mouth snapped shut, and she remained quiet. This silence continued until one of the Queen's servants stepped out from a nearby room and lowered his head in greeting.​

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"Her royal highness will see you now, your excellency."​

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"Very good, please lead the way," Vaulkhar muttered in response before falling in step behind the attendant. Zarhva followed them both, her arms crossed over her belly. The trio moved through the halls in silence, with only the sound of the two servant's booted feet echoing on impact. When they reached the entrance to the throne room, the Queen's messenger stepped to the side as the door began to open. The Iridonian King turned to Zarhva and motioned to the side. "Return to the ship and await me there, Zarhva. If I do not return this evening and you are not killed in my absence, return to our home."​

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With that, Vaulkhar turned his baleful gaze towards the throne room and passed the threshold, separating him from the Queen. Each step he took lacked noise, with only the sight of the fallen Jedi and the horrible sensation pulsating from within him to announce his presence. Where he moved, the force seemed to screech in protest. Weaker beings, as some of the servants or guards lacking higher power in the force, would find it harder to stand up straight as their energy drained away from them. Rage, hatred, and pain welled up within them, threatening to overwhelm any sense of serenity or calm they allowed themselves in service to their Queen. Vaulkhar, on the other hand, stood straighter, moved quicker, and seem fuller with each step taken. The meal provided to him only strengthening his outward appearance. He soon came to a stop, perhaps a dozen paces from the foot of the beautiful queen's throne. He lowered himself to a bow, with one arm taking its place behind the back, while the other held the black flowers close to his chest. After a moment, the fallen Jedi straightened and met her simmering gaze.​

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"It is a pleasure to stand within your presence, Darth Morrow, Queen of New Iridonia, and Lady of the Sith."​

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Darth Morrow ​

 

[Darth Morrow]

[x]

Death.

That was the stench that haunted the halls of the Amaranthine palace; however that strikingly hand't been the most notable elephant in the room. The heat was the biggest problem. The interior chambers of the palace on a good day could run on the lower end of a hundred degrees, on a bad day is was close to a hundred and ten; today was a bad day. Servant scattered about the dark halls were dressed in light cloth with hair tied back with the visible effects of the encroaching temperature creeping on their very souls as sweat dripped down their faces. The guard that patrolled however were still in their full black and red armor, faces covered in the reflective black masks obscuring their identity from enemies, an intimidation factor before one would even consider the sheer heat of the surroundings and the pure will it must take to remain in such a uniform.

Once upon a time the lavish halls of Amaranthine stood flawless in every way, fresh flowers on every table, beautiful drapes framing each window; now the toll of time was seen clearer than any. Where life had prospered; now was nothing but death. Rumors had always spread of the woman's affinity for the undead, though drawing closer and closer to the throne room those rumors began to draw to a harsh reality.

The sounds of crackling fire filled the near silence, only to become louder once the large metallic doors of the throne room slipped open to allow Vaulkhar's entrance and his alone; closing behind him as swiftly as they had opened. The suffocating darkness gripped him as the exit vanished from sight, servants slipping away into the cracks like mice running from prey; though who was it they were running from, their terrifying mistress or the new presence that sucked away life itself.

Further in the chamber Morrow rested high on a throne crafted from pure beskar, her weapon of choice in her unique Kro Varr shaping. One leg crossed over the other the ghostly woman watched Vaulkhar's approach, a hand shooing a small girl to a room out of site; following behind her a skeletal beast much like a large cat. Two others of the same beasts flanked her throne; blue energy where eyes once were locked on the man before them.

Morrow, Queen of Horror, renown slaver across the galaxy, former apprentice and wife to the lastest Sith Emperor, and quite possibly among the strongest force users still alive; or alive in a sense that she could still wreak havoc. Black nails tapped against the solid metal she sat upon, molten gaze pressing into the visitor before her. Any who had strength in the force could sense the lack of life within her; there was no heart beat, there was no pulse.

"He yet lives." Darkened eyes impassively blink as they stare down to him. "And weapon of choice a bouquet of flowers when walking into the lions den."

Vaulkhar

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar watched the child's form disappear into another room, his lip curling up in a faint smile as he considered the implications. If anyone were to discover her existence, the possibility of exploitation or worse came to mind. While the Queen likely kept the child hidden away where she would be safest, there were beings in the galaxy capable of doing such horrid things. Perhaps the young girl's mother could be swayed to understand this, but a discussion of that magnitude would require a proper introduction. For Vaulkhar to approach the Sith Lady's throne and inform her, her daughter's life could be in danger; he would need more than hearsay. The Queen knew such things. It was why the undead creature trailed behind her, likely keeping its unnatural gaze on the girl at all hours.

"It appears my continued existence is both vexing and surprising, your eminence," Vaulkhar allowed the faint smile to grow in size to a charming grin. "I wouldn't presume to greet a Queen without a gift of some kind. I would deliver to you a rare and exotic flower, one that only grows in my city," he moved forward and held the bouquet out for a nearby attendant. "One of your servants will need to collect it for you, as it works similarly to the ysalamir. The flowers themselves create a force-neutral bubble, while simultaneously siphoning the surrounding power from force sensitives. It will not take much, as it merely feeds on the force as a typical flower's roots would leech nearby soil for nutrients. What makes this gift so impressive comes afterward," he watched as the shadowy roses were taken away and brought towards the throne.

From there, Vaulkhar clasped his hands together behind his back and looked back to the Darth. He considered how best to approach the many topics at hand, though his disarming smiled made it appear as if the fallen Jedi was entirely at ease.

"I would say it is surprising to see you here on Iridonia, rather than Bastion, but that would be a lie, wouldn't it?" Vaulkhar posed the question before pacing to the side. "I always considered it odd that you, one of the wives to the Dark Lord, preferred spending their time away from the man and his home. I pondered that thought for many months leading up to my public disavowment of the Sith-Imperial regime. I considered the possibilities that there was something more to you than quiet service to the craven Emperor. It never occurred to me," he paused, his gaze stopping on the exit the young child took moments before. "That you had everything you could ever want, right here on our lovely homeworld of Iridonia. Though, it makes sense in hindsight. A people to rule, a home to call your own, and someone you'd do absolutely anything for, I'd wager."

He paused in his steps, allowing his attention to fall on the undead creatures at the Queen's side.

"I've come here today in hopes of establishing something real between us, your majesty. Not the empty promises you've likely grown accustomed to hearing from the mouths of Sith. A great war looms on the horizon—one that threatens more than the lives of Sith or Imperials, but also our home. We stand divided, with you laying claim to the northern hemisphere of Iridonia, with me and my kingdom to the south. You know how shortsighted the Dark Lord is, it is likely why you departed his side and returned here. He and the Dark Council do not take the New Imperial Order seriously. They will stop at nothing to break the Sith-Imperial regime and shatter everything Kaine Zambrano has built. In doing so, they will require much. Iridonia already belongs to the Sovereign-Imperator Irveric Tavlar. At any point, his ships may descend from the stars and lay waste to what we'ver built on Iridonia. I do not want this for your and my own sake," Vaulkhar met the Queen's kindled gaze with his own crimson eyes.

"Look into my eyes, Darth Morrow. Know that I want Iridonia free of the influence of Sith or Imperial rule. You and I have suffered enough at the hands of the Sith Brotherhood, and it's ravenous Emperor. If we can agree this day, I can keep the forces of the New Imperial Order off of our planet, and ensure no one from New Iridonia finds themselves fighting a war you do not support. And perhaps, we can build something on this planet, not as rivals or neighbors, but as allies."

Darth Morrow ​