Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Breaking the Chains of Allegiance


Location: The Malsheem
Tags: Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet


For years, he'd been told the Kainate were the enemy.

Darth Strosius Darth Strosius had certainly believed that they were to be hated, despised even. Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr had never truly shown an opinion on them, however he could sense that they weren't entirely friendly. Throughout his entire training, the young Sith Knight had been told to avoid the Kainate at all costs.

Now he was a shuttle, docking with their moving fortress known only as The Masheem.

Times had changed. He was seeking to build support to further his own endeavours, not only those of his Master and his Master's boyfriend. He couldn't just limit himself to members of the Tsis'Kaar to do that. He had to branch further afield, meet Sith that he'd never met before. Trade information, secrets and resources.

One couldn't grow power whilst limiting their interactions.

The shuttle touched down upon The Malsheem. Darth Latens rose as the boarding ramp lowered, casting his eyes towards the hanger bay in which they'd been directed to dock into. Slowly, the armoured Knight began to disembark from the shuttle. Each step was loud against the metalic ramp, the silence so thick one could hear a pin be dropped.


"I do believe I am expected" Latens simply stated, his voice deep under his helmet.
 


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It's size defied comprehension.

Out of all the stations in the known galaxy nothing even came close to the creation known by all as Malsheem. As dark armored guardsman led Zachariah through, he would bear witness to the many awe-inspiring sights. Vast sprawling cityscapes stretching past the horizon, bending with the circular design of the worldcraft. All around moved railcrawlers as wide as plazas in the largest cities, innumerable legions of soldiers marched along boulevards wide enough to park flotillas of star destroyers, each and every one in perfect sync with one another. To bear witness to it all it was a force so vast that all hope died when the very eyes drank in their presence.
It was deep in the center that a colossal monument beginning from the deepest pit to as far above as the eye could see, a spire of obsidian crystal. It radiated the Dark Side like a firestorm, a vast hurricane without end. The entrance to the structure was so massively wide it stood like the great maw of a towering monster as he approached. The halls within grew narrower as they went differing widely from the metallic gray outside, they stood as walls of pitch-black marble, highly polished to an obscene degree, each hall covered with busts of great Dark Lords of old, tapestries covering the walls next to murals of historic battles and moments from both Sith origin and others of unknown origin.
The youth was deposited into a large room the size of a banquet hall, a massive hearth stood on one end of the room topped with relics while a vast banquet table dominated the center. The head of the table held a throne of jagged black obsidian. The only light within the chamber came from the roaring fire, burning with molten fury casting haunting shapes across the walls. The beauty of the chamber was drowned beneath the immeasurable darkness within, a presence so dark it forced the fires light back and suppressed much of its might beneath it, dimming the brightness in the room to a tense twilight. The shadows across the walls came alive and stretched outwards into wispy clouds of misty blackness, churning like tidal waves.
"Zachariah Conway." A booming voice rang out directionless amongst the shadows of the room. When the youth looked deeper it was clear something had materialized into the throne, the Undying King Darth Prazutis, Dark Lord of the Sith, Shadow Hand of the Kainate, and Elysian Grandeval Mortarch. A regal uniform outfitted with a high collar of black iron was fitted to His supremely muscular physique. A lightsaber sat clasped to His waist radiating fell power like the pulsing beat of a heart. "Darth Latens. I was intrigued by the message I received from you." The molten orbs of His eyes stared through him, as if everything was being stripped bare for His examination, all secrets brought to the surface.
A chair slid out from the table without any gesture. The table was full of a variety of drinks from a hundred different civilizations, the greatest, rarest decanturs full of a multicolored spread of rich liquids of varying spirits. "Have a drink." A powerful aura of dark, sadistic regality radiated out from every inch of His form.
 

Location: The Malsheem
Tags: Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet


Latens was led through the space station commonly known as The Malsheem.

He'd heard stories of it, of it's contents. He'd once been told it contained the biggest library of ancient texts in the galaxy, although how true it was he wasn't entirely certain. Zachariah was quickly realising that The Malsheem was less of space station and more of a movable planet, full of entire cityscapes larger than some of those on planets he had visited.

The young Sith Knight was guided past busts and tapastries and he almost considered stopping to inspect them. They were clearly there for show, however the young boy had grown a fond taste for old objects. Many of them held extremely interesting stories and all of them could unlock more secrets of the Force if they were studied for long enough.

Slowly, the young Sith was led through into a large room. It didn't surprise him, the Sith had a habit of trying to outdo each other and going bigger and better. He was as guilty of it as any. A large table dominated the room, a throne of black at it's head.

His host occupying the throne. Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis was a large man, built more like a statue chiseled out of stone. The weapon at his hip radiated power, the power of the darkness that consumed both men. He hardly had eyes and they barely looked at him, instead looking through him.

Zachariah himself radiated power, darkness pouring out of him like it overflowed. Around him, the air had a chill that bit at flesh and bone. He'd grown extremely powerful extremely quickly, a young boy with a bright future around him.

Allegedly, a loyal lapdog.


"Lord Prazutis" the young Sith acknowleged simply, with a slight bow of the head for respect. "I must say, I am surprised we have not crossed paths before. I do quite enjoy the study of a legend, and you are nothing if not one" he stated simply. Whether it was an attempt at flattery or not was still to be seen.

"I must decline your offer of a drink" he commented. "I don't intend on staying long, for I have important business to attend back on Woostri" he stated, again quite simply. "Which brings me onto the topic of why I requested to meet with yourself today"

The young boy looked around, taking in the room for a few moments. "I do not know if you were present at the battle of Woostri, however I am more than certain you are aware of the Sith success in capturing the world. However, there was a failure at the same time. Our intention upon conquering Woostri was to secure the data centre, which was destroyed by the hand of the Galactic Alliance itself before we could secure the data. I'm sure I don't need to inform you that it is said that the data centre contained the biggest collection of information second only to Courscant itself."

He took out a data chip, offering it to the Shadow Hand. "Upon this data chip is a collection of everything that we managed to capture, about twenty percent in total give or take" he admitted, disappointingly. It wasn't the fault of Commodore Helix Commodore Helix , he'd done his best. The Galactic Alliance had just decided that they would rather destroy the data than hand it over.

"However not all is lost. There is hope that we can restore the data with the Force and with what we already have" he acknowleged with a smile under his helm. "I'm sure you've heard the rumblings, my Lord. I don't wish to insult your intelligence. I'm sure you've been informed of my plays to secure a seat upon the assembly and secure myself as the governor of Woostri"

Zachariah paused for a moment. "I'm not here to ask your support, I leave that choice up to you. I am here to offer a trade. Once I control Woostri and the data centre is rebuilt, I control the flow of the data. I would be willing to offer access to the information, for a price"
 

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While the Sith Knight's presentation unfolded it was impossible to read the Dark Lords thoughts were. There was no visible reaction on His face as the man continued. The giant didn't react at the attempts at flattery, He didn't even move when the chip was offered to Him. It merely floated out from the youth's hands disappearing into a slot on the large throne. There was a brief flash in acknowledgement from AQUILA, but to others it would appear as a flicker of crimson light as the artificial super intelligence began scanning the data, ruthlessly scanning it for bugs, covert malware of every kind in a secure environment. Once it was sure the data was safe it unpacked it, once more sending out a smaller flicker of light to confirm the data was genuine. All of this happened in mere seconds. The giant never once took His eyes off of the youth while he spoke reading every reaction, every hand movement, every single time he took a breath, every shift of his weight between one foot and the other.

Ambition. It burned within the hearts of all who were worthy enough to call themselves members of the Sith Order. Theirs was a ruthless order where success was seized not simply given freely without one deserving it. The Shadow Hand was intimately familiar with the political scene of the Empire, especially what was going on within the confines of the assembly, and the youths' efforts had become well known to Him, ever since Woostri was ripped out of the hands of the Galactic Alliance. Most of the assumptions he made were fairly accurate, it was clear Darth Latens came well prepared and determined not to make a fool of himself before Him. "Such ambition. I commend it, Lord Latens. One cannot wait they must take what they want. The Kainate can offer you many things. We can smooth over your path to the assembly. We can provide you access to our resources, to our shipyards and factories to bolster your own position, to foster your own rise in exchange for access to all of the remaining data once it is restored, as well as future collaboration on votes within the assembly when you attain your seat. But allow me to ask you something."

All within the Sith Order knew the position the Kainate held. They were an economic superpower, a near peerless giant that fueled the mighty Sith war machine in a way others could only dream of doing. It was child's play to offer access to their resources, to provide Darth Latens with the tools he lacked to secure his own position. These types of negotiations he especially thrived in, many had come to him in search of greater power, and it was often the steppingstone that led them to fall under his influence. "Are you truly where you think you should be? Do you believe you belong in your current place, surrounded by the people you are now? Do you think the path you are on now will lead you to where you want to go? I can see what burns inside you."


 

Location: The Malsheem
Tags: Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet


The young boy cast his eyes towards the Sith Lord.

Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis was right to carry out his checks, Sith were known to be schemers and traitors. It wasn't unlikely that Latens would have put some form of malware or dodgy software on the data chip. He hadn't, in this instance and the scans would reveal as much.

Scans which happened in a matter of seconds.

Zachariah was growing to love AI. It had numerous uses, all of which involved speeding up processes which otherwise would take countless hours. It was something he would enquire about with the right people in his own time, he was in no rush for that.

Prazutis started talking once the scans were completed and the young Sith Knight listened to every word. He offered access to resources, shipyards and factories as well as a smooth path onto the assembly itself. It was a good deal for some data.


"Your offer is agreeable, Lord Prazutis" he acknowleged with a slight nod. Before he could speak again, however, the Sith Lord continued. Zachariah raised an eyebrow under his helm as the Shadow Hand spoke, questioned him.

"I could lie to you, though I would not take you for such a fool" he commented, knowing full well Prazuitis would see through any lie he offered anyway. "You, along with the rest of the Sith Order may well view me as Lord Malum's lap dog" he commented, pausing for just a moment. "A member of the Emperor's dynasty, wasted serving a man known to stab people in the back the moment he gets the chance."

The young boy licked his lips. "I am no fool myself, Lord Prazutis. Serving Lord Malum has it's uses. I have considerable influence within the ranks of the Tsis'Kaar, however you may view that. However ambition grows within me as it does all Sith. Why do you think I move to claim Woostri as my own? Why do you think I so happily accept the offer you placed before me?" He was answering questions with questions, of that he was aware.

"I am carving my own path right under my master's nose and I doubt he even recognises it, for he is far too busy concerning himself with how he is percieved within the Order" he added. He was slowly growing in power and influence and only he would know when the time was right.
 
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The silence that followed was absolute.

Darth Latens had spoken boldly, yet before the Shadow Hand of the Kainate, words alone meant nothing. The chamber seemed to darken, not by the dimming of the hearth's fire, but by the sheer gravity of his presence. The weight of dominion pressed down upon the the very air, drowning it in suffocating stillness. Even the distant roar of the hearth's fire felt like it was smothered beneath his silent scrutiny. The giant did not move. He didn't even blink. All that he did was simply watch. Then, at last, he exhaled, a breath cutting through the crippling silence. "So, you would carve your own path, right beneath your master's nose." His words slithered through the chamber like smoke, each syllable sinking like an iron hook into the very fabric of reality. Eyes like molten orbs bore into Latens, burning past flesh and bone, past the armor he clad himself in, as if it was trying to claw into the marrow of his very soul. "Tell me, Lord Latens, do you think that Malum does not see?"

The question the Dark Lord posed hung heavily in the air between them, heavier than the blackened marble around them, heavier than the very history woven into the grand banners that adorned this indomitable bastion of Sith supremacy. "Perhaps he does." The words fell slowly, deliberately, as if the Lord of Lies was peeling back the flesh of a scarred wound, to expose it to the open air. "Perhaps the Scion is watching you from his throne and laughs, knowing that you will never break free, never be more than what he allows you to be." The shadows in the room around them deepened and crawled across the walls. The darkness around them thickened. The very air in the chamber seemed to grow colder despite the fire's glow behind him. "Or perhaps you are right, and the Lord of the Tsis'Kaar does not see. Which would be more pathetic, I wonder? That your master knows and finds you entirely unworthy of concern...or that he is blind, and you are yet too weak to capitalize on it?"

For a moment, there was nothing at all. Only the cold that crept into the room. Only the firelight flickering off the gleaming black of his immaculate uniform, the high collar of iron framing a face sculpted with the severity of a living war god, a destroyer, a living reaper whose desire solely existed for the consumption of life itself. The crippling silence was cut with the slow tap of a single finger against the arm of the blackened throne, the Shadow Hand spoke again. "But I will not waste time on questions when answers are within reach." Prazutis finished. The sound of that single, simple tap was soft, almost imperceptible, yet it rang through the chamber like the very tolling of a funeral bell. "If you would carve your own path, you will prove it. Not with words. Not with grand declarations of ambition."

The Dark Lord's voice dropped lower, darker, as if its tone alone was edged with something sharper than a vibroblade. "You will make a choice, here and now. Declare your loyalty to Malum, and this meeting between us will come to a swift conclusion. Our arrangement will continue simply on the terms we've established. There will be no future here, and I can see a future for you. Or..." A pause. A flicker of something dangerous in the eyes of the Lord of Lies. "Prover your ambition to me by taking something from him." The Dark Lord continued. The silence left in the wake of this destroyer's tempting words was absolutely deafening. The weight of his words pressed down like a gauntleted fist, the noose of a hangman that was tightening around the young Sith's destiny. "A Sith does not wait. A Sith does not ask. A Sith takes. Show me, Lord Latens, that you are Sith." The room seemed to stand still around them, the fire raging behind him snapped, as if it was the last dying embers of a desperate struggle of survival. A distinct moment had arrived between them. A threshold had been drawn.

Now, it was up to Latens to cross the boundary placed between them, or crumble before it.



 

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