Private Cards IV and II, The Emperor and The Priestess

[Kaila Irons]

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Summons from The Emperor was not something one could refuse. But secret summons? How could one even consider.

But to say that Darth Anathemous was not concerned by the implications would be a lie. Hundreds of Kainite families were slain on Jutrand before Carnifex had even finished his speech, declaring that the Kainate and Inquisition were to be married as one. And the rumors all pointed toward Darth Empyrean . For many years, Kaila had believed that there was safety in obscurity. That in appearing unworthy of notice, that she would escape the violent politics of the sith and be allowed to pursue her scholastic duties unbothered, rarely having to speak with her master nor his nefarious peers.

That day proved her wrong.

She was already gaining momentum within sith space ever since she was recalled from behind enemy lines, deployed to defend besieged Echnos from the Galactic Alliance. For her efforts, Empress Srina Talon had personally made her the military governor, An honor which she'd humbly accepted despite doubting her own capabilities. Learning sith politics after so many years spent alone in the field had been challenging. She'd faced Wanosa assassins after the Kaggath, she'd formed temporary alliances with Tsis'kar which revealed more of her own secrets than even she knew she had.

And it had led her here, into this throne room.

She strode forth, silken cloak and war-skirt obscuring her body and graceful movements such that she almost appeared to glide across the floor like a black specter more so than walk. But as her masked visage took in the sights, it became apparent that while she may have cut an imposing figure anywhere else, everything here seemed to dwarf the tall "youngest darth" as Srina called her.

It was a dark place deep inside The Black Pyramid of Jutrand, but spacious enough to easily house hundreds of sith. Today it was all but empty, it's vastness swallowing her dark form like the void of deep space, which could be seen high above her. It appeared in fact as if there were no ceiling at all, as if they truly were floating amidst the cosmos as stars and spiraling galaxies twinkled and spun above. She wondered if it were some manner of observatory, but whose? Was she looking out at the stars beyond, or if she looked close enough, might she spot dark Jutrand from here?

But her insatiable curiosity mattered little, for she was coming upon the throne.

It was made of solid Kyber, hewn of several grand crystals that could easily destroy the galactic economy in their rare splendor, gleaming blood red like the little shard in her own lightsaber.

<<...It could be yours>> a voice whispered gently as she approached.

But it was not one she recognized. She had bound a number of spirits now, such that her force signature reeked of dark power beyond her years and more souls than any one body had right to possess. The secrets of Darth Parasideus were hers, whether she wanted them or not. She had learned the lost art of Force Walking to bind him before he could finish stealing away her own body. She had done the same to his spectral apprentice merely to demonstrate the ability to her own student, reduced beings who'd outlived the 400 year darkness to mere fuel for her own power. These were only the unwilling participants. For there was another who'd formed a deeper, stranger bond, through the dark magicks of Dathomir.

And yet this, whatever it was, sought to tempt her as if she hadn't learned her lesson already.

<<...you could be Empress, never have to bow again. All you have to do...>>

<<...is kill him>>

<<Begone.>> She whispered a psychic demand, and through the power of her alchemized circlet, the telepathic link was severed. It could not speak to her again so long as she wore it, and so long as she did not wish to hear what it had to say.

Much as she wished it's promise was true...

"My lord," she threw her cloak back, a bodygloved leg slipping out from the split in her skirt to take a knee in one fluid motion as she bowed to The Emperor, her sleek black armor on display for but a moment as the silken cloak slowly drifted back over her shoulders like wafting smoke.

Truth be told she hadn't the feintest clue what to expect. She had merely glimpsed The Emperor in the aftermath of their battle upon Echnos, the only trait he displayed beside raw power being utter apathy for the sacrifices of his own imperial citizens, perhaps even his Empress. Whatever was happening here, the cynical young darth could not see it being good, nor the nefarious Force having not meddled in destiny to bring her here. The question was, were the fates as angry with her now as they had once been? Or would this newest chapter of living perdition be The Emperor's will alone?



Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Black Pyramid​

Jutrand​

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The black marble plates that made up the opulent floor of the throne room spoke of the depths of the Empire's pockets, even if their economy seemed to shutter with every battle. Each were shined to a near perfect mirror, and below or above, all one could see was stars - a subtle nod to the Sith's claim - that all the stars were theres, and here they were, bearing witness to the Emperor upon his throne.​

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The Emperor, however, was a beast in direct contrast to the opulence of his throne room. He was a leathery thing, dead for many years and kept persistent by sheer willpower - but he bore the scars of his death poorly. He seemed crumpled in his chair, the structure of his left half failing him as his body folded in the slightly unnatural way. Where eyes should have been, they were long replaced with metal orbs that when trained on someone - they would feel it.​

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Kaila Irons would feel that gaze now, as it focused on her. Like an ichor, his gaze felt heavy and disgusting. It was not as simple as a predator looking at prey, it was something unnatural staring down its contradiction. It was the sensation of the sun burning the skin through an eclipse. An umbra of prickled skin.​

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Her bow heralded no response from Empyrean for a few moments as he continued to study her - but eventually relented only in the slightest as he leaned forward.​

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"It is a good thing you know to bow. Many a Sith have learned a harsh lesson for hubris.", he intoned. By the rumors, Empyrean had killed more Sith since his rule began than any other Sith in the last two decades. His rule was one of assassination and kaggaths, to break what sought to break, and his Empire was held together by his inhuman strength.
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"Darth Anathemous. Remove your helm - I want to look you in the eye when we speak."​

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It was not a question, but a command - plain and forthright.​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Anathemous said nothing in turn, awaiting the silence to end without ever lifting her eyes to meet his. she could feel his gaze in all it's wrongness, the way it made her near-human skin crawl and tingle like familiar blaster fire slipping dangerously close, or the haunting impression that he was not looking at her so much as through her, though this was not the reason for her machine-like stillness.

Rather it was that she'd grown used to debasing her own pride in the presence of beings she did not truly understand.
Or perhaps hiding it from them, anyway.

She was no assassin by any means, no Tsis'kar serpent nor Yalaran shadow despite learning from Darth Keres, Carnifex hadn't taught her to hide from sight nor the force, perhaps wisely holding back the student he'd given cause to seek vengeance time and time again, though it only stoked further her anger towards him. But she had become quite adept at hiding things in plain sight, her murderous hatred one of them, and what little remained of her pride being a close second.

But could she hide her thoughts from a man so powerful and so learned as The Emperor?

"Darth Anathemous. Remove your helm - I want to look you in the eye when we speak."

She hesitated for but a moment, knowing that her mask held her truest ward against the metaphysical invasions performed by so many sith of this era. She had worn it always since it's creation, refused to allow her own master to see her face and even some of her allies. The only reason in fact that her face had ever been seen upon imperial shores was because the jedi knight Dreidi Xeraic had broken it during the siege of Echnos, and it still bore weld marks in it's cortosis shell for it.

Still upon her knee, gloved hands slowly rose and cupped the black painted cheeks of her war-mask. As it rose, silken hair spilt out and over her shoulders, gold and wavy like windswept fields of grain. Then came the first glimpse of her face, giving cause to Srina's name for her —"Our youngest darth". Anathemous did not know if she were truly the youngest amongst her peers or simply the newest, though her face could certainly lead one to believe so, it's smooth but chiseled quality and the subtle flush of yet living blood in stark contrast to The Emperor's withered form. It was however similarly neutral in it's expression, though it was not so apathetic. More so she had forced this blank slate so many times to hide her truest self from the world that it almost seemed natural now.

Last were the eyes. Observant yet focused as they flicked up at his, the golden corruption of the dark side evident, although they took on a slight glow in the dim light, like the distant fire of twin suns, fittingly displayed in this observatory. They burnt with hatred, with passion and with hunger that was carefully cultivated beneath the surface and locked away to be unleashed as needed, though not for The Emperor and not for his throne. Her ambitions were not so base.

No, he was something new. Something unknown, and the young scholar did not like things that were unknown. Or rather, she did not like her own inability to adapt in the face of things unknown to her. It was not a flaw, merely an impossibility she often faced, yet she treated it like one all the same.

Despite the intensity of The Emperor's own metaphysical glare, her eyes did not waver from his, for he had demanded to look her in the eye, and despite how badly she wished to tear them away, she would acquiesce.

The mask was set upon the smooth marble, the subtle sound of rough cortosis momentarily grinding against it's black surface almost deafening amidst the silence in it's reminder of her newfound vulnerability, her bulwark against psychic invasion left open and exposed in ways few others were allowed to glimpse.

She swallowed, and rose to her feet to be at eye level with him. She would play it safe for now, meet his demands as best she could, demonstrate as she had to The Empress that she was loyal, reliable. All the while she would observe, she would calculate. Unlike the sith who had come and died before her, Anathemous did not seek to break that which cannot break. Rather she sought, as she always had, to know the unknown, and act according to discovery.

"Is this satisfactory, my lord?"

Her voice was soft, carrying with it an accent characteristic of a woman of court, yet there was something off in that it's dialect was indistinct, or perhaps even a subtle blend of others, passable to most ears but something only those most familiar with the aristocracy might notice. Whatever records the empire had on her however made no mention of her upbringing in the days before she became the apprentice of Carnifex. Actually they made mention of very little, and Anathemous wondered if perhaps that was the reason for her summons. The empire knew her as but a Vahla woman who was admitted to a hospital for some cranial injury many years ago in occupied mandalorian space, and nothing else. Many years had passed, and now she was a military governor, A dark lord, and a rising star connected to one of the most powerful men in the galaxy.

A wildcard.



Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean was a hard thing to please. On one hand, he enjoyed subservience and knowing ones place - but on the other, he absolutely detested a dogmatic approach to it. There was often no way to win with Empyrean, his world views had grown so jaded over the years there was little and less that could do anything but annoy him - but perhaps Srina Talon . The Empress never faced the brunt of his anger, never felt the sharp jabs of his outbursts - but in turn, she became the only one who ever received something akin to a kind gesture.​

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For Darth Anathamous, she would receive only a slight grimace, barely noticeable on dead flesh that no longer wished to move. His eyes seemed to adjust, metal orbs carved deep with runic symbols spinning in his sockets before settling - and she would feel a renewed watch on her. Same as before, only more encompassing. Hyper vigilant.​

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"It will do.", he offered her, possibly as a jab, or possibly because he simply wasn't that impressed. It was hard to tell with the Dead God.​

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"You have risen high in my Empire, Darth Anathamous, coming to even rule one of my worlds. You've seem to become a staunch ally of Darth Carnifex, and your blood runs rich and hot with the fervor of youth. I have no doubts that soon you will even sacrifice your pride - and make it as far as us.", he said.​

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A nebulous 'us', but it was clear who he was referencing. The ones she didn't understand. His eyes tested her for every reaction, every nuance.​

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"My eyes see far, and I've seen the wake you have left even if you have not. I take pride in knowing who of my children are my enemies and who are not - but I want to see where you lay. Where you lie.", he reiterated. A play on words, a correction? Was he just playing a game?​

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"Tell me how my world fares, then tell me of your family.", he said as he leaned back - seemingly content to force her to explain herself on numerous fronts.​

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Kaila Irons​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Though she was doubtlessly outmatched by The Emperor's perceptive devices, Anathemous was less watchful herself. Her own eyes studied his as they began to adjust, noting the intricate runes, and the way they spun smoothly into place. She wondered then how much was the work of the force and how much might be mechanical? It was surely alchemical, the runes reminding her vaguely of the ones which lined the inside of her mask, or the intricate alchemical tattoos all across her master's body.

If there was one thing for his ever observant eyes to take from hers, it was that they held within them an insatiable curiosity for all things, knowledge it's own reward. Perhaps that is why her master had named her High Inquisitor after his grand speech.

"You have risen high in my Empire, Darth Anathamous, coming to even rule one of my worlds. You've seem to become a staunch ally of Darth Carnifex, and your blood runs rich and hot with the fervor of youth. I have no doubts that soon you will even sacrifice your pride - and make it as far as us.",

While she acknowledged she had come quite far in a short time, If he was complimenting her in his notion that she may come so far, it was either lost on her or she simply did not believe it. How could she, deliberately held back as she was?

His statement led her jaw to clench ever so slightly. While it was good in most cases that the world still believed in the loyal persona of Darth Anathemous, the ever loyal Kainite, Kaila Solus could never quite come to terms her own lie. She had tried to delude herself into believing that she truly was his ally many times before, but each time she had always been met with the harsh reality that she was little more than a servant. And as of late, she was coming dangerously close to being his enemy.

And perhaps it was this bias which made The Emperor's next words all the more confusing. She took this nebulous 'us' to mean beings like himself and like her master. But how could one say that of a man who lords over his followers as a God? how could he have possibly sacrificed his pride? One who surrounds himself with gilded concubines and sycophants?

No, she did not believe for a moment that he had sacrificed his pride. She did not believe he had ever sacrificed as much as he asked of his own people, of her.

But then she wondered if this notion was ignorant of her. Clearly The Emperor had sacrificed much pride and dignity indeed, corpse that he was. If he could truly compare this to Carnifex, then perhaps her master had sacrificed something yet unknown to her. He had told her so little even after so many years, perhaps by design.

"My eyes see far, and I've seen the wake you have left even if you have not. I take pride in knowing who of my children are my enemies and who are not - but I want to see where you lay. Where you lie.",

Curious then that he should bring up pride after claiming to sacrifice it. Perhaps then he was not so inhuman as he appeared at a glance, or by reputation. Perhaps these stories, as all stories were in her experience, but half truths.

Initially she seemed receptive of these hints of recognition, curious what his perspective was, chin subtly raised. She was loosely aware of her own accomplishments, knowing on some level that her service to the empire had been worthy of notice and that she had come further than her peers in a short time. The Empress had picked her for a reason, Gerwald Lechner had taken the time of day to give her advice which he might not have if she were not worth his time, and she had acted accordingly, as she would explain in time.

However, these accomplishments were not solely for the empire, and it appeared he was aware. Something told her after all that this play on words was quite deliberate.

"Tell me how my world fares, then tell me of your family."

She blinked, her nostrils flaring in an inaudible exhale as the young darth's stomach became a pit. Of all the questions he could have asked her, she was perhaps the least qualified to answer his second.

"Reports indicate progress, my lord" she chose to answer these questions in order, and with facts rather than her own opinions nor flowery language which The Emperor must surely be tired of hearing.

"I have personally invested assets into the city, with the majority of buildings now repaired and fully operational, save perhaps the governor's mansion, as I have ordered only those rooms most necessary to it's governmental function be restored for the time being, and reallocated funds from it's repair to that of the city and improving living conditions for it's people. However, we have also been about the quiet yet violent work of stamping out traitors and infiltrators in the night, and I am told those responsible for sabotage during the siege have all perished, work I have cross referenced and confirmed with information provided by Lord Lechner. Since then, military personnel previously assigned to the world's defense have since been replaced with droids and transferred to the Second Legion, however I have found the local culture to be quite hostile to droids and cyborgs for fears of replacing them."

"Following lord Lechner's advice," she added, unafraid to admit that she had accepted the wisdom of others in her effort to complete the task for which she was assigned, perhaps a sign that he was right to claim that her pride too would soon be sacrificed.

"I have compensated for this by expanding local industries. Given that most major exports are tech based, I have focused on weapon and starship components bound for the frontlines. We have also, with his lord councilor's permission, begun using my own criminal connections to keep tabs on the local underworld and expand into former Rimward Trade League worlds to locate rebel smugglers and their clients."



"...as for my family" her gaze dropped to the floor as she pondered the question for a time.

Her expression twisted in a mix of confusion and perhaps even shame.

"If I ever had one, my lord, I... I do not remember them."

It was both a half truth and a double meaning for one so devoid of allies nor connection to the empire she now served, even despite her best efforts. She hated and distrusted the other Kainites, and yet for her affiliation to them, she was shunned by all others. In that way, she was doomed to stand alone in all things.

But it had not always been this way.

"Many years ago, before the tenth empire fell, I awoke in a hospital with no memory. I was ordered aboard the Malsheem, and I have been in my master's service since."

The words flowed easily even if somberly from her lips. For so many years that was the only truth she knew, though it was here that her honesty would begin to falter. She had discovered the hidden truth of her origins only recently, or at least a part of it. While it was certainly true that she knew nothing of her biological family, she now knew that it was a Mandalorians clan who had raised her until she was taken from them too.

She truly did not remember them, but now she knew why.



Darth Empyrean