Faction Dark Empire | Convention at Carlac

[Darth Apophion]

Convention at Carlac

Location: Carlac
Objective 1

As the sun of Carlac dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and crimson, the Sith Lord Apophion descended upon the icy world, his shuttle piercing the frigid atmosphere like a dark harbinger. The planet blanketed in perpetual winter, was an unlikely venue for the gathering of the galaxy's most fearsome wielders of the Dark Side and their Imperial allies. Yet, it was here, amidst the snow-laden forests and the silent, towering mountains, that a convention of power and ambition would unfold.

Lord Apophion's presence was an omen of the changing times in the dark echelons of power. Clad in his ebony and gold-trimmed armor, the young Sith was the epitome of the menacing grace of the Dark Side. His armor, etched with the ancient glyphs of his lineage, whispered tales of battles won and enemies vanquished. Battles hard-won on his homeworld of Begeren over the Jedi of the Ashlan Crusade.

Stepping onto the snow-covered landing platform, Apophion's boots left steaming imprints upon the frozen ground, as if the very ice dared not touch him. His glowing red eyes surveyed the imposing structure that loomed before him. The citadel, built upon these frozen lands, was a monument to the Empire's unrelenting strength.

Amidst the fields and snow-laden battlements of Carlac, the young Sith Lord Apophion moved with deliberate intent, his mind a fortress besieged by thoughts of alliances and underlying deceit. The gathering of Sith and Imperials within the planet's imposing stronghold was a spectacle of power, yet beneath the ceremonious unity, Apophion harbored a deep-seated mistrust for his Imperial counterparts. Apophion's ascent within the Sith hierarchy was a journey marked by the understanding that betrayal was as much a weapon as the crimson blade of a lightsaber. The historical rebellion of the Imperials against their Sith overseers was not just a lesson in history; it was a warning. "Trust is the most dangerous of games," the old Sith lore cautioned, and Apophion had learned to play this game with a master's skill.

As Apophion gazed upon the Imperial delegates, he knew that the foundation of their alliance was as tenuous as the ice bridges spanning Carlac's crevasses—prone to fracture under the weight of hidden agendas. The convention would serve its purpose, a necessary convergence of dark intent and strategy, but in the chambers of his mind, Apophion was already preparing for the inevitable—a future where the veneer of unity would crumble, and the Sith would once again need to assert their dominion with a merciless hand.

The Sith Lord made his way to the gathering wondering who he meet first.

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Carlac
Objective: 1
Tags: Darth Solipsis /Open

Batuu, Exegol, Dxun, and now Carlac. Detritus Ren had been on a journey of discovery led around by a voice that offered purpose, and power. It had been weeks since Dxun in which Detritus barely crawled out of the Tomb of Freedon Nadd with his life. A fight with a Mandalorian, a trapped spell book, and a swarm of parasitic crustaceans that he would later find out as Orbalisks had infected his body. Over the weeks what had only numbered as two of the organisms were starting to spread all over his body, in order to not be consumed entirely by the creatures would he he forced upon the dark side inside himself. He was enraged constantly, and tempted to feed into his anger often provoked by the creatures as they fed on him, and him in return. Pain and knowledge often went hand in hand, and Deteitus would wonder what he had gained from his travels and what would be the final destination? Despite the pain inflicted by the creatures that now thrived off him would he press forward.

The Night Vulture was on a course for the former Imperial world. While resting comfortably in the cockpit, he felt memories of a long forgotten past resurface once more, memories of the warrior that was Jin Kyrel would constantly haunt him as was shown on Dxun. The mention of Carlac had unnerved him, regardless the voice had commanded that he would go there. The voice had felt that Deteitus had been put through enough, but how much more was there to take. Detritus now only hoped to find the answers to what he saw to it as the great rebirth.

The icy world was visible before him as the Night Vulture pushed onward with a trail of smoke behind him. There was questions that quickly came to his mind, but even he didn’t know what to expect from a place where it all began. Who knew that all roads led him back to a New Imperial world. As the Night Vulture entered the orbit there was an oddity in the arrival. Detritus would be steady in his descent towards the frigid world, but could feel through the amplifying power of the Orbalisks, that there were many presences down below. All of what he felt was filled with darkness that had made Detritus on alert. Securing his helmet in place a hiss followed once successful as he guided the Night Vulture to a secure landing area near the gathering of darkness.

Detritus would head into a stride while igniting his saber. The orange blade igniting with a crackle, while Detritus moved steadfastly towards the entrance that led into the gathering. In his stride would he feel the creatures gnawing at him, enraging him as he went towards the center of the darkness. He would try to suppress the constant surge of dark side power, if only to mask himself among the gathering. As he entered inside would he start to hear a speech echo.
​

"For you sons and daughters of the Empire, we watched as the dream which gave birth to the New Order died in front of us - brought to nothing by corruption from within - a cancer which infected our nation so that the Galactic Alliance; in all of her opulence and stagnation, alongside the vultures of the galaxy - could best us in our weakened state."

Detritus would hear the man speak, clearly recognizing an Imperial accent when he heard one. He gripped his saber tightly, listening to the words as he stepped closer into the convention. He looked up from the visor of his mask creeping closer to the source of the speech. What he had heard next would shock the Master of Ren to his very core.

“Whether Imperial, or Brothers of the Maw - all of us lost the fathers of our nation when Irveric Tavlar and Rurik Fel were slain; and you Children of Darkness when Darth Solipsis met his end on Tython.”

The voice would grow louder as Detritus neared. His confident stride redecued to a cautious walk. He had worked with the Scar Hounds, but his past and his future all seemed to collide. His mind was overwhelmed by the realization that this was a combination of the Maw and his Imperial past colliding. The mention of Solipsis had brought an unwelcome chill across his spine. No, he wouldn’t stop now. He had to see the truth. Detritus would continue his walk towards the source of the speech.

When Detritus would reach the source, he was greeted by rows and rows of stormtroopers lined up. He saw various figures all wrapped in darkness, as he saw banners billow through the frigid winds of Carlac. As he stood at the edge of it all would he hear the crescendo of the speech.

But what can bridge that rift, is a new purpose that can unite all of us. FOR TOO LONG, our enemies have spread their brand of civilization throughout the Galaxy. FOR TOO LONG, the Galaxy descended further into the squalor of decay and indulgence. The New Imperial Order rose up against our oppressors, and sought to bring TRUE Order to the galaxy in the face of the FALSE SITH of the Sith Empire; and the Brotherhood sought to tear down the galaxy and bring forth a rebirth in its own image. Today, we have before us the opportunity to rid ourselves of the wounds of the past and see our purposes come together as one new purpose - one Great Plan that only one man can see fulfilled.”

Detritus would slowly understand the gravity of the words. Was this a cruel joke? First the ghosts of his past and now this gathering was of Maw and Imperial. Was this the great rebirth that he had been long promised? Questions had overwhelmed Detritus mind as he clutched the crackling saber tightly. As the Imperial would end his speech would Detritus felt as if his whole body was freezing. He exhaled and a breath of cool air followed.

He could feel the darkness as if trying to suck him in. Then he would see the man himself slowly emerge from the shadows. His heart quickened and his eyes widened in awe, anger, and fear. He clenched the hilt of the saber tightly, gritting his teeth as the unholy man would utter. “What devilry was this?”

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | GALACTIC EMPEROR
Citadel Caelitus

​

Amidst the frozen ruins of Citadel Caelitus, the Dark Lord of the Sith ascended the grand platform, his dark cloak billowing in the icy wind like a miasma, and yet carrying with it the dignity of an Imperial Emperor. Behind him, the remnants of a once-mighty stronghold whispered tales of a war long since fought but fresh in memory.

The Dark Voice came forward, emerging alongside his Imperial Despot, center stage. Stepping to the forefront, with but a gesture, he silenced the murmurs and whispers that had begun to spread among the throng with his unholy return. His voice, a symphony of honeyed persuasion and sinister allure, reverberated across the desolate landscape.

"Victory has defeated you." The Dark Lord began.

His words were hypnotic. "The galaxy writhes in chaos and disorder, its people shackled by the chains of falsified freedom and Jedi dogma." As he spoke, his words painted a vivid tapestry of a galaxy in turmoil, a picture that resonated with the shared grievances and resentments of ALL those who had gathered this day. They had grown weary of a galaxy where the strong were stifled by the weak, where ambition was stifled by complacency.

"What did the Galaxy's victory over Tython achieve? When did the legion vast of iron will, or the unmoving horde of death incarnate... fold? When did the WEAK break either of you?"

The Sith'ari rose his fist in gesture,

"You are.. chaos and order, two sides of the same coin. And what greater feat of strength is there than to submit chaos to order? To subdue raw passion and unleash it in concentrated, unbridled power at your whim?"

"We are the architects of a new order," Darth Solipsis proclaimed, his voice swelling with a fervor that ignited the flames of ambition within those below. His eyes burned with a ember of passion and hatred, and yet magnetic he carried the attentions of those in his presence. "A new force of change forged in the crucible of war, tempered by the fires of our DREAM."

His words were like a clarion call to arms, rallying his followers to conquest and change. They hungered for revenge, for glory, and in the Sith'ari, they saw the embodiment of their darkest desires.

"A NEW EMPIRE!" he declared, his voice resonating with the thunder of a conquering tyrant, "We shall cast aside the shackles of restraint and unleash our wrath upon those who would oppose us. The Galactic Alliance, the so-called champions of light and freedom, shall face the full might of an Empire Reborn!"

The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, their fervent cheers echoing across the icy wasteland like a tempest unleashed.

"The DREAM yet lives among all of you! And so I say unto you," the Dark Lord concluded, his voice echoing with the weight of inevitability, "..embrace your passion, unleash your anger! Together, we shall forge a legacy that shall echo throughout the ages, a legacy of power, of conquest, of a GALAXY REBORN!"

As the echoes of his speech faded into the cold embrace of the tundra, the soon-to-be GALACTIC EMPEROR surveyed the sea of rallied warriors before him, knowing that the seeds of his empire had been sown, and that nothing could stand in their way now.

 

[Thomas Barran]

1st Post

-THE LAST PRELUDE TO TERROR-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags(Friend): Keilara Kala'myr Hex

AT THE PRECIPICE III: A WALK AMONG THE WARLORDS - PART 1

LANDING-POD 9, DESERTED SPACEPORT,
ASOPORT, CARLAC (901 ABY)

'Heh! Nah, ye needn't go to such lengths - in mind an' action alike.'
​

Regardless of what Empire, or where said-Empire resided, Barran knew in his mind that the majority of Dark Imperials would be well-dressed in attendance for this gathering, thus accordingly chose to adjust for the sake of appearances; the Bloodhound was, in fact, a Goidel and his sort were always known to bring formal style when and wherever it was required. No kilts (nor ceremonial dirks-) here though, not with the opportunity there to turn a few heads in surprise, thus the mask and hooded-cloak alike would remain in orbit with the rest of his horde, along with that ubiquitous, skull-engraved eyepatch he wore every day. Tonight, the Great-Khan's choice of garb would adhere to the laws of subtlety, with an all-black tuxedo and overcoat, and in place of the eyepatch, a red ruby - cut to measure firmly in place to substitute for the eye Thomas himself cut out all those years ago.

'An' as for what she's like.... Back in the day, she was a lot like you are now.... Volatile, sharp, an' ever ready to hammer every perceivable threat. But since then-'

Down dropped the lander's off-ramp, though slow enough as according to the hydraulic systems that were programmed to drop it down without incurring damage to motor and ramp alike, and just as soon as the hydraulic hiss began to draw open the frozen city landscape beyond, enough would be revealed of Keilara's approaching outline in the snow. Even seeing the red hair from a distance brought a certain trained earnest out from within, and though Thomas reserved the term,"Mentor", for Asher, it would be quite clear to Elyssa before long that Keilara had more than just a small stake in the results of the Shriven's growth as a warrior, especially in the years Mercy and the Bloodhound had to endure after the Mongrel's death.

Lead or perish, become the Warlord lest the founder's legacy be cast to the winds, there was no other way in the Matriarch's mind - thus the mantle of supervision had passed to the Woad's telepathic, telekinetic tutor.

'-Our Matriarch has grown to have more heart than I could ever muster in this state, an' don't take it for granted.... Such things are rare in the Horde, but not,"Unheard-of.", if you know what I mean.'

With the grace expected of one wearing such attire, Barran then gestured to follow as he finally set to the task of facilitating the reunion of the Kala'myr sisters, pacing out in front by only a few steps at most, though only in continued assurance of his sincerity on the matter. The moment of recognition itself was expected to be the sweetest of moments, and though Thomas had not known such a feeling for decades, understood the necessity that brought them both together, and with it - understood that House Kala'myr would become all the stronger in reconciliation.

'Hex, meet Mercy - one o' the minds behind the mask.... But most-importantly, your sister.'

 

[Jon Hojkstra]

Amidst the frozen ruins, where echoes of battles long past whispered tales of fallen empires and shattered dreams, stood Blane, a stormtrooper armor driver of the Empire. His armor gleamed in the pale light, a symbol of order in a galaxy gripped by chaos. Before him, the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Solipsis, ascended the grand platform, his presence commanding, his words intoxicating.

As Solipsis spoke of victory and conquest, his voice resonated deep within Blane's soul, igniting a fire that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns. Inspired by the Sith Lord's vision, Blane found purpose, a reason to fight, to strive for something greater than himself.

For too long, the galaxy had been torn apart by war and strife, torn asunder by petty conflicts and selfish ambitions. But then, under the leadership of Darth Solipsis, there was the opportunity to forge a new destiny, to build a future where order reigned supreme.

Blane pledged himself to the cause, to the dream of a galaxy reborn. With every fiber of his being, he served Solipsis faithfully, standing as a beacon of peace amidst the darkness that threatened to consume them all.

For Darth Solipsis was not just a leader; he was a symbol of peace and freedom, a beacon of justice and security in a galaxy shrouded in anarchy and mayhem.

Blane heard himself say,

"Cook."

Darth Solipsis

 

[Maestus]

Carlac
aka Frozen Hellhole #1

Time passed, marked by a steady influx of shuttles. As they exhaled their occupants, most were beneath notice of the heavily furred Lethan. Yes yes, even such luminaries as the Despot's daughter, Ibaris Varanin received little more than a passing glance as Maestus shifted her attention to one whose face was previously unknown to her, yet she knew by reputation and activity. The activities of Max Sinn in the Unknown Regions had been brought to the ruler of Crakull's attention on more than one occasion. It was perhaps a stroke of the fates that the Warlord of the Krath found herself on Carlac for such an ominous occasion. She watched as the Admiral exited the shuttle, noting the guards she held authority over as they protected her path. As the Imperial made her way into the fortress,

Maestus motioned to the Chosen Commander. Without a word, the Commander executed a crisp right-face. Followed exactly 1 second later by the Chosen moving in perfect unison to mimic his action. As a perfectly cohesive organism, all 41 stepped off together and marched to the base of the fortress entrance. At the base, the first 14 split to each side of the doors and took their positions. The remaining 16 formed 2 columns of 8, the Commander stood erect awaiting his mistress.

Maestus followed Max Sinn with her eyes as the other woman moved to the castle, stepping forwards herself finally. Granted, she'd had the foresight to bring the furred cloak. But be damned if she wasn't so susceptible to the cold. A child of fire and flame, temperatures such as these reduced her capabilities tremendously. As she strode towards the fortress, she slipped more than once on hidden patches of ice. She was weakened, unsteady. She -needed- to get inside. To warm her blood and bones. Angrily she yanked at the cloak, attempting to ward off the cold so she might not suffer a fate worse than death today. Yes, for her, to appear weak, today of ALL days, would indeed be worse than death.

Finally making her way to her men, and through their lines, she felt something that caused her to pause. A level of rage she'd not felt before, except within herself. It did not take but a quick second and Detritus Ren was pin pointed as the source. Well now, this was intriguing, she mused to herself. She'd not seen the Master of Ren since Dxun. Given the powerful emanations he was giving off now, Maestus began considering options and possibilities. One thing she was certain of, the day now held the promise of being interesting. Possibly even entertaining.

Her eyes darted back towards the Imperial Admiral and the Twi'lek Sith resumed entering the castle. Just in time to see the Despot, Ignacious Korvan begin his speech. Snaking her way into the assembled throngs, she was not above bodily removing those who were in her path, until she stood beside and slightly behind Max Sinn . For a few moments, Maestus listened to the impassioned words the Despot gave. Pretty words with which she was sure would stir the passions of many listening. The Despot was deft at weaving his words to pluck at the tender heartstrings in order to elicit exactly what, and by extension, Darth Solipsis , hoped. Unquestioned loyalty.

Maestus smirked, then sighed. She spoke softly to Max. The Despot paints a vivid picture, wouldn't you agree?

And then Ignacious Korvan stepped aside and the true leader, the real puppet master, stepped from the shadows.

Darth Solipsis

Behind stoic eyes, the Dark Lord's former student observed the master at work. She noted how he wove words, manipulating the longings and desires that beat silently in many chests. Maestus was all too familiar with the skill with which Solipsis was capable of twisting and using everything about yourself, against yourself. All to inspire and ensure loyalty.

A stray thought crossed her mind, causing her to tear her gaze from Solipsis and turn to the gathered. She saw few who had known the Sith'ari for as long as she had. She knew Thomas Barran was here, as were a handful of others. Exhaling a long breath she didn't realize had been held, something akin to a twinge of pity seared through her. None knew what they were blindly submitting to. She doubted even Ignacious Korvan understood the full ramifications of bending their knee to one such as Darth Solipsis . Yet one and all bent the knee and submitted. Maestus shook her head gently. Blind obedience had its uses, naturally. The true test was the long haul.

That was still in question. ​

 

[Kroeger]

D R E A D N O U G H T
IRON LEGION
OPEN

WATCHING FROM A DISTANCE
​

Carlac. A den of horrid memories. A far cry from the Empire had last tread unto this dreaded, frigid plane. The site of power centered around the killer of the Empire's progenitor. And it was here that they expected to make peace with once enemies. Perhaps it was a show of strength, a posturing to solidify the Sith's rule over this new Kingdom of Iron. Or perhaps, mere poetic irony, brushing over bloodied history to make anew.

So Korvan and Solipsis took the stage before their Empire of renegades. It wasn't too far of a draw from the very same band of bastards who'd founded the New Imperial Order on Nirauan. From here, however, there was overtly more of a foundation. It was picking up the pieces less than it was making the foundation from the ground up.

He stared into the eyes of the claimed Sith'ari through the various projection screens as the man spoke. He didn't trust him, he hardly trusted anyone anymore. However, there was one truth. The Galaxy had stagnated. The stage was set. The Alliance was due to overtake the Galaxy and with it, a realm in the hands of those with false virtues and morally corrupt souls who stood for faux principles. Order was not a threat unto the rest of it, it was inevitable.

He sparked another cigara alight among the crowd as he donned his makeshift uniform, a padded cortosis weave coat bearing the legion insignia of his own dogged faction on his left shoulder with the old insignia of the 1st Armored Assault on his right. He plucked the cigara from his lips with a thin plume of the herb leaving him between the gloved fingers of his hand.

There was going to be a lot of work to do.

 

[Sabine Korvan]

---

COMPNOR​

---

Objective: I - Convention on Carlac
Location: The Entourage of the Imperial Despot - Base of Citadel Caelitus - Carlac
Tags: Kazian Blackwood

---

"I understand now is no time for failure, ma'am. The Onderon affair had many factors weighing against us, though rest assured the Alliance will know nothing of today's proceedings."

Oh how she did love making men squirm, although to Kazian’s credit he did keep his composure rather well. He even managed to make an attempt at ingratiation.

"You must be very proud of your father. His achievements are a boon to the Empire not seen in decades."

“Indeed...” Was all she said, although the faintest of smiles broke her deadpan expression. She appraised him for a few moments before she finally relented. “I suppose I can’t be too hard on you. It could have happened to anyone, especially given my father’s accomplishments. He’s not an easy man to cover, let me tell you.Speaking of which--” She was interrupted by her father’s approach to the dais, and the beginning of his speech. She peered over at him as he appeared the statuesque visage of Imperial authority. She turned to face her father, but leaned in to whisper in Kazian’s ear: “I might have an assignment for you that could redeem you in his eyes, if you wish to make a formal acquaintance under... more favorable circumstances.”

“We all have endured much over the past two decades.”

“For you sons and daughters of the Empire, we watched as the dream which gave birth to the New Order died in front of us - brought to nothing by corruption from within - a cancer which infected our nation so that the Galactic Alliance; in all of her opulence and stagnation, alongside the vultures of the galaxy - could best us in our weakened state.”

The speech began in earnest, and Sabine in turn patted Kazian on the shoulder and... gave him a wink?

“Think about it, Ninja.” Oh how she did enjoy toying with men like him.

 

[Kazian Blackwood]

Tags: Sabine Korvan | Darth Solipsis | OPEN

​

"Think about it, Ninja" she had said, and think about it I would. As the main event began and her father took center stage, I watched his grandeur captivating the legions of the Empire. If she really did have something for me, it could only be to my benefit. The Despot's daughter... an execellent connection.

How far had I come, from the fresh refuse of the academy spit out in the drain that the Empire was circling. When I was young the future had seemed so bright, but then I'd been shipped off into CompForce to fight other Imperials just because they believed the words of one long-dead Moff over another. That was why I had joined Korvan's cause in the first place, and as I looked around at the faces in the crowd, and down at the stormtroopers in perfect rank and file, I knew I couldn't be alone. No more Tarkinists, no more Pellaeonists. We were just Imperial, and we were all at the mercy of Korvan's speech. In our hearts we knew it to be true, that the things the New Imperial Order had burned a trail through the stars for was no more. With a fall as fast as the rise it was no wonder men like my father had grown so disillusioned with their life's work.

When Korvan's speech finished, he stepped to the side to welcome the estemed guest who we all had been wondering about, and when I saw his face, I swear immediately that I knew it. When he started to speak, I knew I was right. That was the face of a man from the history books, one that could not be here. That was Kaigan Fossk, the Alliance politician... the man who became Darth Solipsis. I should have been shocked, but his words had us all enraptured. Had he returned from the dead? I knew Sith Lords possessed such wicked powers. Had he been behind Korvan this whole time? My mind raced with these questions, but as he continued to speak, his every word glorifying the Empire, it came to make sense to me. Who else could have orchestrated this union of enemies?

Worry, fear even, subsided as his speech crescendoed, and when the crowds rang out in zealous fervor of "A NEW EMPIRE!" I was steadfast among the voices. My thoughts wandered away from my father, for I knew what he would think of this, and to his father. My grandfather had served loyally to the Sith for years before the NIO was even a dream. He had never questioned power, or else he would have seen who the power really laid with. If Solipsis could returned from the dead and drag the fading empire back with him, he must have had untold power. Now, here I stood just steps away from the man who had once been our sworn enemy, finding myself agreeing with his every word. The Glorious Imperial Future was all I'd ever wanted, and now I understood that it would not be handed to us, but rather it would have to be taken.

The strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must...

 

[Jon Hojkstra]

tags of interest: Aldo Garrick​

Previously...

In a dim room, Jon Hojkstra pored over the latest intel, its source shrouded in secrecy. The report outlined a gathering of corrupt Moffs and Warlords on Carlac—a convention of power-hungry snakes vying for control of the fragments left by the Empire. Men and women he knew had a direct hand in the demise of his once great nation, men and women who had guided the Empire from an Age of Order into an Age of Decadence.

As the ex-storm commando digested the details, a sense of unease gnawed at him. The mission seemed straightforward: infiltrate and eliminate. Yet, something felt off, a nagging doubt he couldn't shake. Jon wished his former aide, the geeky queen of tech Replay, was here. She could sift through the report and find who exactly stood behind it. But Replay was in the wind ever since he got caught by the SIA. Gone to Denon, if he had to guess; with those freak pals of hers.

"Feth it." he cursed. If there was a trap behind all this, then at least he'd have the chance to make someone squirm the name of whoever was behind this.

**

Now...

A lone figure clad in white camo trekked down the snowy hilltops in direction of the coordinates the mysterious intel had left for him. As Jon approached the rendezvous point, a knot formed in his stomach. Imperials. Clandestine operators, to be specific—

The realization hit him like a maglev train: the enigmatic source was the fethin Imperial Security Bureau. Bitterness and anger surged through his veins as he felt played like a fool again.

I point, you shoot...he could hear that dirtbag Spook's voice in his head.

For a fleeting moment, the ex-storm commando considered walking away, but the memory of his fallen comrades spurred him on fueling him with thirst for vengeance. If what Arminius was saying was true, then the big shots gathering up here were really getting capped. Seems like the Bureau and Jon's interests aligned.

For now.

He stomped on forward, fury in his gait.

 

[Nute Griimda]

CARLAC, PREFSBELT SECTOR, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

"Obredaan, Intriguing. Very well...then...I shall partake in such a conference for my own benefit." With a swift glance towards the protocol droid ( Alicia Drey ) stationed outside the shuttle craft, Meii-Nu signaled for them to follow as they entered the grand Citadel Caelitus. There was no room for hesitation when considering this proposition, for two clear reasons.

Firstly, the Dark Empire's actions would be erratic given the individuals already present and quite possibly the entire venture would prove to be unfruitful. Secondly, the Gossam's entire demeanor revolved around the pursuit of power and riches, disregarding any sense of loyalty to one government or ideological faction.

She offered a bored gaze at the center stage as Ignacious Korvan speech rang out through the hall; delivering quite a tiring message of unity between the fragments of the Empire and the barbarians of the Maw. They would destroy the alliance...restore order and stability...blah blah..blah, the same message repeated over and over again by every other faction in known galactic history. You'd think that Despotic Regimes could come up with original material to work with.

The mastermind behind this circus was none other than the Dark Lord of the Maw, Darth Solipsis who had died apparently but was still alive apparently. Such details were already starting to dim her intellect, as the speech boiled down to a singular message of "The Maw had failed, lets rebrand and try the same scheme again." although it had a certain charm that might hypnotize the weak-willed and downtrodden amongst them. Although the crowd was ecstatic to throw down their lives in the vain possibility of overthrowing the Galactic Alliance.

"It is times like these, that I am thankful that I am a banker. Any other career and I might have to actually try...like these two." A soft comment to the protocol droid and Imperial Guide next to her.

 

[Max Sinn]

March of the Krath​

Tags: Maestus

​

Max listened to Grand Admiral Korvan's speech, it reminded her of her days in service to the Empire, it seemed like such distant memory. When the strong ruled the Galaxy with order and an Iron fist. Yet time and time again the Empires of the past found themselves weak and forced to break and scatter in the wind. It had to make her wonder though how well the Chaos of Maw would fit together with call to order that the Imperials demanded. It was a loaded gun aimed at the head one slip of the finger and it would go off. This was the line Empress Dyans Keto had to walk when she allied with the Maw. The Krath and the Tetan's had more in common with imperials then they did Maw but the Maw were an unpredictable weapon making them valuable to those who knew how to aim them correctly.

Max was stirred from her own thoughts and reminiscing by words directed towards her. She side glanced at the Twi'lek who had come up next to her. There was a time in Max's past where she would have ignored the non-human. Raised in the old imperial ways where it wasn't just about creating order but human supremacy. Yet sometimes old ways had to die and change, so did Max. Adaptability was a valuable tool, it didn't mean it was an easy one to master though. Max herself had denied the gifts the Krath had to offer to remain human unlike so many who so easily gave up what they were for the cause.

"Indeed, he does have way with words, but his actions and how he fuses Maw and Imperial way will be the more impressive feat." She answered as she watched to see a miracle in the making the dead rising in the form of Darth Solipsis. That was when she realized who the Twi'lek was, she watched as Maestus though being stoic a slightest hint of pride and glory could be seen in those steely eyes.

"So, the dead rise." She said more to herself than to Maestus wondering what other dark secrets this New Dark Empire had in store. Well, there was one more at least that Max knew of buried on Empress Teta waiting to be dug up. What was next would the God's rise again to herald in the new age. It left Max intrigued as she raised with clapping at the call, though she would have to confer with the others before any decisions could be made. She then looked to her new friend. "Chaos and Order mingling, just like cat's and dogs. Mass hysteria." Max straight face as she said it, that dry wit coming from unpainted lips.

 

[Thomas Barran]

2nd Post

-THE LAST PRELUDE TO TERROR-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARLORD OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags(Friend): Keilara Kala'myr Hex

AT THE PRECIPICE III: A WALK AMONG THE WARLORDS - PART 2

LANDING-POD 9, DESERTED SPACEPORT,
ASOPORT, CARLAC (901 ABY)

I'm going in blind here.... But there was nothing to suggest they'd hurt each other.
Nothing at all in our intel that would even hint at such enmities between them.
​

It had been difficult enough in a slew of near-constant judgement calls to make it so far, let alone the added plethora that accompanied those that Thomas had to make all the way from Onderon to Carlac, but in disregard for timing and the time spent apart, Barran knew that necessity was needed to take precedence eventually. Even if it meant holding sisters apart in the moment punches were unexpectedly traded, the Woad knew the kick-starting of this process was needed if either Hex or Mercy wished to grow and adapt to the Galaxy in the makings of it's worst century yet, another proof which to tell them that time wasn't on their side.

If ever.

Civilisation, as all knew it then, would be brought to it's knees and scattered to the winds, and all crushed under the boots of powers beyond their comprehension. It was to this that the Kala'myr sisters were needed to adapt most of all, for it was on those ashes that new fields could grow, and on those fields where the flora could return to rule once more. However, the one thing that brought Barran comfort was the self-reminder that only one of the sisters was yet to learn what cost could become of a completed Eternal Cycle, and in this, a reminder that only one sister would need to understand the rot that preceded the Maw's destruction of Csilla. The other had been a mentor before, and would remain so as the Bloodhound's closest advisor, and on this Thomas relied most of all in these moments, hoping more than ever that Keilara would see what he saw in Elyssa's Marauding potential.

And not only that, but abilities latent to such obvious extremes that the Khan assumed the Matriarch would pick up on it even quicker than he had before.

AT THE PRECIPICE III: A WALK AMONG THE WARLORDS - PART 3
Tags: Darth Solipsis Ignacious Korvan Ibaris Varanin Marlon Sularen
Detritus Ren Aerarii Tithe Maestus Kazian Blackwood Kroeger
Max Sinn Nute Griimda Alicia Drey Rath Nihro Spindle Onrai Darth Apophion​

CONFERENCE HALL, CITADEL CAELITUS,
ASOPORT, CARLAC (901 ABY)

<"It was a good speech.... A great speech, in fact. Glad ye recorded it.">
<"Easily done, but the rest is up to you.... Good luck down there.">
<"Much obliged. Bloodhound - out!">
​

His leisurely jaunt into Asoport's otherwise-deserted city centre, blizzard-ridden though it had been from start to finish, had been enjoyable enough that Thomas was quite content on his own throughout, especially with the proud, recorded words of the Dark Emperor ringing out with charismatic impact in his ear. Having never had the means or status to meet the Dark Lord of yesteryear's Mawsworn before, the Khan-to-be possessed wisdom enough to know this was all the more reason to study an overlord in the making, especially with one of such raw, all-encompassing magnetism, and the movement's greatest-and-first pioneer solidifying his place at the top of it's hierarchy. But not only achieving it once, as in the moments Barran listened to Solipsis' grand address, he quickly understood that the Dark Lord was in the process of achieving twice what none believed was achievable before.

Well.... If it wasn't a fluke, so-called civilisations are in greater trouble than ever.
Seems like our Dark Lord, our Emperor-in-waiting - is only jus' getting started.
​

This was but one of the many trains of thought running through the mind of the One-Eyed Woad, and yet they would all pertain to the same idea that the wars to come would be tenfold as bloody as those they had fought together just decades before, and to each and every thought a reason to evolve the Horde's methods alongside the ever-changing future of combat-innovation. Even as the Bloodhound approached Citadel Caelitus' southern gatehouse, the presence of stormtroopers of every variety brought about living contextualisation in the silent, inward brainstorming stroll across town, and especially as to who the Scar Hounds would be evolving to assist in the heaviest of the fighting - and on every tactical level.

​

'Halt! Identify your-'

​

Having offered little more than a dark outline in the snow before, delegating the gatehouse to the Citadel's inner layers before anyone thought to notice his approach, the Bloodhound's arrival outside the conference hall had come as an unwelcome surprise to the troopers guarding the entrance. A surprise in particular that Thomas had no time (and for that matter, nor any patience either-) to indulge by then, thus compelling himself to snatch the throat of the only thing keeping the Khan from attending as he growled,'Open.... The doors.', in a tone that brooked no argument or protest from the other troopers guarding the entrance. The guards knew what dangers would step forth from the shadows, especially in the hours, days and months that followed collective declaration, and were given no choice but to accept another threat into their midst, though they would be fortunate that the Khan was in a merciful mood that night.

'To all in attendance, I bring greetings an' warm regards from the tribes of Rhigar - an' MAR'ZAMBUL!!!!'

​

With doors finally opened to the Bloodhound, the panoramic view of the chamber beyond opened with them, and in the moment he walked down the central seating-aisle, Thomas knew his arrival had very-likely caught the eye of the Dark Emperor himself. Even before the bellowed self-introduction, and likely before he even wrapped his fingers around the guard's throat as well, as there was something telling Barran within that Solipsis would recognise a power apart from (or perhaps even without-) Midichlorian input, a presence of sorts the Emperor could recognise as one who walked the Nether - as Solipsis himself had until recently.

An' so it begins....
​

'My time t'speak will surely await, but for now, I leave this wee seedling within every mind around me.... Is it not so that demanding allegiance of Marauders is much like demanding such of a blaster-pistol? I mean, you don't exactly require a disruptor to hail your name - you only need to aim an' shoot with it!'

As much as the Khanate were likely to stay the course, and right down to the last gasp, their reasons for Galactic upheaval and destruction had veered along an entirely-new direction, adjacent though it would be to the goals and the apocalyptic path of the Dark Empire. Galactic civilisations from the core to the Tingel Arm, from the Unknown Region to Wild Space, would likely be agreed-upon as unnecessary to the reignition of the Eternal Cycle, but in that, there would be almost-entirely differing views on the motivations for cutting off the societal rot that degraded these once-beautiful planets. But despite the strengthening bedrock that formed these newly-evolved ideals on Mar'Zambul, none on either side of the impending debate would foresee how far these adjacent paths would veer apart, and especially not with the Eternal Cycle still in a state of halted flux at the time.

For some, the Cycle Renewed would mean the complete destruction and domination of the Galaxy, but for the Scar Hounds ruling the Khanate, this meant something altogether more intricate, more-complex than a scarred, silent husk where a Galaxy once existed. Considering what awaited at the other end of the Cycle Renewed, completing it's first full rotation in millennia, and in that, considering what was to be learned from events long-since consigned to unknown, ancient historical archives, but most of all - considering how long nature was given (and in direct correlation, how long nature would be given-) to heal from the decadence of sentient civilisation.

'Our horde is nought but a microcosm of the Brotherhood the Emperor himself founded, but in that, the Emperor knows that different customs assure our bloodsworn oaths.... And in this, the Mawsworn await the chance to align our causes once again.... I yield the floor for now!'

 

[Rath Nihro]

Objective: Observe
Location: Citadel Caelitus
Tags:

Perhaps one of the positive effects of being numb to largely… Well, lately Rath has grown numb to everything in general. Both literally and figuratively as he was only able to feel the insatiable hatred emitting from one of the arrivals because it was a very strong emotion. Enough to stir the void in his soul that drew the Shadow’s attention to Detritus Ren . Anyone who was walking around with an ignited lightsaber would naturally be perceived as a threat, yet the casual disregard of the person in question made it seem like it was only a trivial matter.

Was this the darkness that beckoned Rath into the void between stars? He was almost convinced until emerging in front of the populace was someone that Rath had only heard by name. Someone that he could’ve sworn had perished at Tython. Of course, the Force had mysterious methods of staving off the patient mistress of death. Or the rumors were only just that and it was fabricated to make it seem like Darth Solipsis was dead. To give the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi a false sense of peace.

It wasn’t just his very presence that alarmed the Shadow, but rather it was the sweet honeyed words that carried into the wind as it infected the minds of many. The words to inspire, and the words to dominate their loyalties. A subtle domination of course, but the lone dark sider felt the presence that sought to slip past his mental defenses. To suggest that he join the uproar. But there was truly only one true master that Rath would ever follow with such undeniable loyalty, and this man was certainly not her.

So the mercenary merely kept his mental shell steadfast against the influence as Rath was still here, namely to see for himself who he was supposed to work with. A man of untold power, and a leader to rule the galaxy with an iron fist. Such an idea, such a utopia it was that many imperials and Sith alike have plotted to accomplish for the millennia. But such was the course the Force must take in order to tip the scales down from favoring the Light.

With crossed arms over his chest as the crowd roared to life with cheers and war cries. A symbolized unity that was once thought to be unheard of, yet the currents of fate have deemed it so to become a reality. Rath looked upon Detritus Ren with squinted yellow eyes from a distance at the hate-driven man’s flank. Ordinarily, Rath would have gone ahead and at least subjugated the threat before it could fester into a problem. However as Rath noted the dark figures that had surrounded Darth Solipsis and the major players in a protective stance were also strong in the Force. What was the use of such protection if they couldn’t protect the very lord they served? Or rather how could the man rule the galaxy if he couldn’t stop a single blade from coming after his head?

As callous as that might sound, it certainly would be anti-climatic for Rath to intervene. Not to mention it would only draw unwanted attention to himself. If he could see the opportunity to gain favor amongst their peers, then anyone else should have been able to see such an opportunity as well. Or so Rath had thought. It was the way these Sith operated, and it was why they continuously failed time and time again. For passionate in their hatred they might be, but they’re also easily manipulated and distracted.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

“I am profoundly moved by your magnanimity,” Tithe replied to Alicia Drey as she welcomed him to Carlac and gifted a protocol droid to the Aargauun. “And my, I must express my heartfelt gratitude for the resplendent reception bestowed upon my humble, humble self.”

Tithe was led through passages of Castle Caelitus, which were teeming with Stormtroopers, Imperial officers, Sith warriors and Maw fighters. An visterial energy emanated from the gathering, a sense of tension and anticipation he had not felt in years. The day felt fortuitous, a moment that could shape galactic history. And while moments like that often led to war, revolution or upheaval, one commonality united them all - the prospect of untold wealth for individuals wise enough to see opportunity and bold enough to seize it.

The corporatist was led to a viewing platform overlooking a mass gathering of Imperial and Maw forces, undoubtedly the largest show of strength since the Battle of Exegol. Tithe sat and surveyed the parade, calculating the credits needed to equip and sustain such a mighty force. A wry smile formed as the profitability of supporting this venture became clear.

A finely dressed Ignacious Korvan addressed the crowd, whipping them into a frenzy with a pro-Imperialist speech. While Tithe had served as its Chancellor, he had no great love for the Alliance, especially the modern administration, with his pro-consumer, anti-corporate leanings. Korvan concluded his speech with gusto and stepped aside for a most unexpected speaker.

Tithe sat forward in his chair. Rumours of Darth Solipsis surviving Exegol had circulated the Alliance from the moment the battle had raged. Indeed, Tithe had used the spectre of the Sith’ari to push for military contracts in the Alliance senate favourable to the Trade Federation. But to see Solipsis, the most dangerous Sith Lord since the 400-Year Darkness, alive and in the flesh changed everything. Unlike the infirm Sith Empire, Solipsis and his Brotherhood of the Maw had brought the Galactic Alliance to its knees and almost extinguished the Jedi. His return marked a seismic shift in the galactic power structure.

Tithe sat back in his chair, revising his profit margins. This unexpected development may even exceed the Aargauun’s most grandiose expectations.

 

[Alicia Drey]

Tags: Aerarii Tithe Nute Griimda Ignacious Korvan Darth Solipsis

"Equality is a lie. A myth to appease the masses. Simply look around and you will see the lie for what it is! There are those with power, those with the strength and will to lead. And there are those meant to follow – those incapable of anything but servitude and a meager, worthless existence."
-- Darth Bane.

Victory has defeated you.

The hairs on the back of Ayra's neck stood on end as she listened to Solipsis address the gathered forces of the defunct Brotherhood of Maw and the Imperial Remnants banded under the leadership of Ignacious Korvan. As both men spoke to their people- bringing together the amalgamation of their shared history to form the Dark Empire as a prelude to war with the Jedi and their Galactic Alliance- only one thing resonated with the former One Sith.

As Aerarri leaned forward in his seat, clearly fascinated with what he was hearing, Ayra reclined in hers while raising her palm to her chin in thought. Was it possible that another Sith had reached the same conclusions as her, only to walk a different path towards a resolution? For twenty-nine years Ayra had lived in exile. First on Sojourn, and next on Coruscant as a prisoner-of-war until the day came of her liberation that Solipsis had undoubtedly engineered. When the attackers who freed her retreated from the Core Ayra had elected to join the New Sith Order as she went about the pursuit of the Work.

As she slept in that cryochamber for twenty-long years, Darth Solipsis had risen to power and created the Brotherhood of Maw to destroy the Jedi Order. But he had failed. Now, all this time later his death during the Second Great Hyperspace War had been a lie, and here he stood side-by-side with a former enemy now turned follower upon the eve of his second campaign. What was different this time? Where had Solipsis been for all this time? Why was the Imperial Despot Korvan now in league with him?

What had Solipsis learned? Darth Ayra had been there on that day when the One Sith had revealed themselves on Coruscant. The invasion and subsequent annexation of the Core had followed. In their arrogance the Jedi and their Republic believed the Sith Empire to be destroyed, with their followers scattered to the winds, beset to maim and kill each other in a civil war set to be waged in the shadow of their destroyed Empire only to see their Republic fall instead as the mysterious, enigmatic leader of the One Sith unexpectedly struck in the heart of the Republic.

But the Jedi had survived the One Sith Purge. In the wake of their defeat Darth Ayra had come to her own understanding of the same maxim Solipsis had revealed to the zealots who were set to christen the birth of his Dark Empire. The doctrine of Imperialism, combined with the tenants of the Sith code had not led to the fulfilment of the promise of the Sith and this was epitomized in a few short words: victory has defeated you. In that realisation Ayra had turned away from those doctrines to focus on the truth, and there she had discovered the teachings of Darth Bane.

Two there shall be. No more, no less. A Master and Apprentice. One to embody power, and the other to crave it.

What had Solipsis learned in his years of exile? How would this Dark Empire accomplish with which the Brotherhood of Maw had failed too? Had he not learned from the mistakes of the Second Great Hyperspace War as Ayra had done during the fall of the One Sith? Why did they reach the same conclusion, only to see them walk a different path? Solipsis sought to wage another invasion of the Galaxy, whereas Ayra sought to end the dilution of the dark side and return it's power back to a dyad pair, so that in the darkness, they could work to engineer the fall of the Jedi- not as warriors- but through subterfuge, and secrecy.

Who was right, and who was wrong?

Below where Ayra and Tithe sat the legions of the Dark Empire carried with them the banners, flags and emblems of their respective organisations, all of which had banded together under Solipsis' leadership; and as the Sith'ari ended his speech to christen the birth of his new Empire the speech had clearly resonated through all of his followers for there was sudden loud chorus which rung throughout Citadel Caelitus.

SOLIPSIS. SOLIPSIS. SOLIPSIS.

A disturbance in the Force resonated throughout the world, and Carlac shook at the epicentre of it as the Dark Empire was formed, as the name of the heralded Sith'ari rung throughout the citadel. War was now set to be waged, and Darth Ayra readied herself to be another participant. As she sat there, her mind drew upon the possibilities, and as she reached out into the Force to be granted a vision of the future none came to her as the dark side obscured it.

"Is this the end of the Jedi?" Darth Ayra asked herself quietly.

 

[Detritus Ren]

Location: Carlac Citadel
Tags: Darth Solipsis Alicia Drey Aerarii Tithe Rath Nihro Thomas Barran Maestus Max Sinn Ignacious Korvan Nute Griimda Kazian Blackwood

Detritus stood there in both shock and anger. Still, he couldn't have hoped to move an inch of muscle as Detritus would stand petrified of the presence that emerged forth from the platform. What he saw before him was a man that stood tall, radiating dark side energy as if a black hole sucking everything in. The man looked older than that of Detritus, although both looked oddly similar that for a second Detritus confused him as a fatherly figure of sorts. Despite the resemblance in appearance, he had watched closely with his saber still clung to his grasp. For now would Detritus deactivate his weapon, as his eyes narrowed upon the swirling abyss before them now granted an audience.


He dare not move, not yet as he felt the Orbalisks only hungrily eat into his being. With the stinging pain he had felt the darkness mass within him, building up just waiting to be unleashed. It didn't help that the parasites were only increasing his rage, as when he heard Solipsis speak, his eyes widened with a sudden realization that dawned on him. "It can't be! No! I refuse!" He would say in absolute denial, guided by his faith in the World Eater, and the Hidden Maw would he find the truth of it all. The man that spoke to them all, this void of darkness had been speaking to him the entire time. He had been the one to have led him from Batuu to Dxun, now it had all come full circle where Detritus couldn't accept the truth. His emotions heightened by the parasites that fed off of him, he focused completely on Solipsis with gritted teeth, and clenched grasp against the metallic hilt of his saber. His past and future all collided together within this very moment, where flashes of a young Jin Kyrel kneeling before Emperor Rurik Fel flashed vividly in his mind.

Detritus could feel himself shift, as his presence was known to others eyes watching him closely. All eyes wondering what the newcomer with an orange blade would attempt? Detritus would listen closely to the speech, the more he listened was where his past had truly haunt him. He had been here before, he had been here as a boy, a different Emperor, a different Empire. No! He refused to simply relive such horrors again, he refused to let Rurik Fel and Hans continue to cast a shadow over him. He could end it all, he could end it here right now. Little did Detritus know in his realization was that this happened before, and it would happen once again.

His anger built into a frenzy by the Orbalisks Detritus couldn't simply remain standing. When Solipsis had finished addressing the crowd would he be welcome with thunderous applause.

SOLIPSIS!

SOLIPSIS!

SOLIPSIS!

SOLIPSIS!

All but one who hadn't shared the same sentiment. Unable to contain himself any longer. The Master of the Knights of Ren would clutch his saber tightly. He would call onto the dark side energies constantly being consumed, and fed in return by the creatures to give him strength. With one deep breath did he ready himself. A cool exhale came followed by Detritus steadying his legs, only to call upon the Dark Side to send him leaping into the air. He looked down and would eye the platform of Solipsis. The fact that Solipsis was heavily guarded didn't dare to deter him. An angry scowl was present on his face, as he looked down letting the Force guide him on his descent towards the platform.

Detritus would land on the platform with a THUD, his dark robes billowed along with the frigid air behind him. Weapons were immediately raised upon Detritus's landing only for Detritus to stand tall, staring down the Emperor before him. His saber clasped tightly to his grasp would ignite with a snap-hiss. The crackling orange blade emerging with a violent energy like it's wielder. "As I once knelt to an Emperor bearing false hope, never again!!!" Detritus would shout towards Solipsis as he moved with his saber raised, ready to attack Solipsis within mere moments. However, Detritus for his faith, and experience he had as a warrior, even with Sith parasites such as Orbalisks fueling his rage. Nothing would prepare Detritus for the horrors facing him once repeated by his Father long ago...


​

 

[Derix Tirall]

​

For a very long time, the great and powerful Derix Tirall was lost.

Official records indicated that the former High Regent of the Final Dawn had fled that organization in the aftermath of the Battle of Tython, supposedly in fear of a successful coup attempt by his second-in-command, the enigmatic Marlon Sularen. The truth was far more complex and much less fantastical. Or more fantastical, depending on who you asked.

In the months leading up to the Battle of Tython, Tirall had slowly been giving more and more authority to Sularen. As High Regent, Tirall was consumed by an insatiable thirst for knowledge and power. He had become increasingly consumed by the esoteric teachings of the Church of the Dark Side, delving deep into their ancient texts and rituals.

As Tirall immersed himself more fully into the teachings of the Dark Side, he began to lose touch with the day-to-day operations of the Final Dawn. It was during this time that Sularen, sensing an opportunity, began to assert himself more forcefully, gradually assuming control of key aspects of the organization's military and political infrastructure. By the time the Battle of Tython erupted, Tirall was a man adrift, consumed by his own obsessions and blind to the machinations of those around him.

To him, the Final Dawn was merely a tool to be used to achieve galactic domination. Once that goal was achieved, the Church would assume the day to day functions of rebuilding and governing what was left under the watchful eye of the Sith'ari - Darth Solipsis .

Everything changed when Solipsis died on Tython.

For a brief moment, the faithful of the Church wavered, but Tirall did not. He withdrew from the Final Dawn and dedicated much of the last thirty years to his beloved Church, faithful in the idea that Solipsis, like Palpatine before him, would rise to finish the job that Darth Bane had started millennia ago.

The Regent Emeritus was seated next to his old friend Marlon Sularen and watched with baited breath as first Ignacious Korvan gave a masterful speech that inspired the crowd. Darth Solipsis was next, and with a beaming smile, Tirall watched as the Sith'ari pronounced the beginning of a new age.

"As I served you in the old wars." The former Regent mused, mostly to himself. "I serve you now."

Darth Solipsis | Marlon Sularen | Ignacious Korvan | Aerarii Tithe | Rath Nihro | Thomas Barran | Maestus | Nute Griimda | Kazian Blackwood | Detritus Ren​

 

[Ibaris Varanin]

A NEXUS OF LEGACIES
CARLAC ➝ CITADEL CAELITUS ➝ OUTSIDE
Ignacious Korvan • Darth Solipsis • Onrai

​

When an additional presence encroached on the space around her, one she hadn’t accounted for upon situating herself at the base of Citadel Caelitus, Ibaris lowered her chin and gaze from above, pulling back the acerbic knit of thoughts she had wound up in. Not that she knew anyone in this place; even the voice that appealed to her nature was as-yet unknown.

"Unusual circumstances. And here we are, offering allegiance to an idea greater than ourselves in the hopes that we may yet influence it. Do you think such may prevail?"

But the lack of acquaintance did nothing to preclude Ibaris from feeling a tension rise at the base of her neck and top of the chest, through to the back of her head and jaw when the woman spoke. The energy of shoulders tensing, with none of its tells. And her presence, so vague in its familiarity as to be an irritation, only made worse by a brief glance at the woman that gave her nothing further to go on. A face that chimed no bells.

"Onrai."

And a name that similarly returned nothing from memory. Ibaris swallowed delicately as she returned her field of view to the fore, attempting to form a civil response for this unexpected company. The tip of her tongue pulled softly and repeatedly back and forth over the point of one of her canines behind her firmly sealed lips, a tic of either irritation or thought at any given juncture. “I am no oracle,” came her flat reply after a further moment, unaccompanied by even the courtesy of looking at other blonde; she let go of a measure of her tension, a barely-warmed rush of air issuing out her nose in a sigh, "but I see this for the opportunity that it is." It was clear to her: there was greater chance of bringing eons of disorder to heel in those gathered here than there had been... well, since she was a child. When the bloated and corrupt Republic had been whittled away to nothingness.

Ibaris had been keeping cursory notice of the Imperial Despot, expecting that he would move to address the gathered at some point; a fact confirmed when he approached the dias before she could think to introduce herself to this 'Onrai'. Or summon the slightest care to do so, when the time came for what they were all here for. She had some few words left at this point for the blonde:

"Listen, observe, and find your own conclusions."

Then she gave her attention near-fully over to the address. Though his words were directed primarily at the forces both Imperial and Mawite, Ibaris could gain a sense of what would bind these disparate elements together, and their shared grievances - get a finger on the pulse, so to speak - as well as some small sense of the orator, simply by listening. Few were those that could accomplish such a binding, and as the greying Imperial so put it, see this 'Great Plan' fulfilled. There had been a restlessness, a stirring in recent weeks that had coalesced into what was now transpiring before her very eyes; she could only wonder whether she had felt it or heard that voice inside her head first. Whether one invoked the other... but without question, that oppressive, attractive density of power was a difficult thing for Consecrai to ignore. And impossible to not crave.

As such, when she felt that same heavy, magnetic pull as the Despot's words wound to their conclusion, her eyes sought out and followed its source, trailing the Dark Lord as he ascended the platform and approached the dias. The murmurs and whispers billowing in his wake, carrying his name, caused her eyes to slowly widen as her thoughts began to circle around not how but who, not when but why. Where he had been banished to was no-where anyone came back from of their own volition, and there were few people, let alone Sith who were not so self-interested (or infected with cowardice) and possessing of the know-how to cause this to happen on purpose. The list was small, in her mind. Very small. Some of its members provoked foul thoughts. False Sith and... family.

Then Solipsis began to speak, and those thoughts faded into the background as that same voice that had begun to echo between her ears in recent weeks now seeped into them. The curse she felt bubble up and just as soon die in her throat, when the pieces fit together, when it all clicked. She had learned of how close he had come, those two decades past, and what it had taken to stop him, then. The heavy toll it had exacted on those who stood against him. A hair's breadth away from succeeding. Only just. And he had rend a tear in the fabric of existence, in the process - how that deeply sobering knowledge had shaken her, the reality of the sheer power it must've taken, and how she had paled in comparison. How it had driven her further down the Path in the decades since, and not out of fear, but ambition. The reasons and cause of his resurgence hardly mattered - what did was what she could gain by it, and by seeing the Dream through to fruition, whatever the cost.

She knew she had made the right decision to have listened to that voice at all.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe

Objective: Reunion (BYOO)
Location: City of Asoport, Carlac
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Hex | Closed

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Ziare Dyarron | Freedom​

But one thing even I could not escape, no matter how far I was from where the main events were taking place. And that was a speech by the leaders of the Dark Empire. Korvan and Solipsis. And even in the deserted place where I was, the speakers were blaring it. I flinched when I heard them. Once, a long time ago, I believed that Maw meant freedom. I had just been freed from nearly twenty years of oppression, thanks to Tu'teggacha; at the time it was nice to see it as freedom, angry at everything and everyone. Well, I'm still angry at a lot of people, especially those who support Solipsis and most of all Darth Solipsis himself.

But it still changed me; probably if Kallan and Keilara were still in my head, they'd be happy about it. Asher knew, but he probably would have been happy if I could kill at home like him. But I still couldn't do it. Not while Solipsis and his followers were out there; not while everyone who hurt my husband was out there.

So the Galactic Alliance would be the main target; in fact, they were the ones who hurt Asher the most, and they didn't even try to save the Scar Hounds members who suffered because of the Avatars. I would have been happiest if both the Galactic Alliance and the Dark Empire had collapsed and been lost in the mists of time forever. My goals were already set, it was just the implementation that needed to be addressed. Fortunately, I was patient enough not to run the risk of hitting my head against the wall and acting too quickly. It also took patience to win the Shadow war against Tu'teggacha.

I just have to make sure that the leaders don't find out that I'm not really loyal to the Empire. My loyalty is to my husband, no one else. Even during the Second Great Hyperspace War my loyalty was to Asher and not to Maw. I even told that ugly, rubbery Taskmaster that. When MANIAC indicated that there was movement within range of his scanners, I looked away from the holographic image of Solipsis and looked into the part of space where the movement was. MANIAC detected two people, so I wasn't sure if it was Tommy or someone else.

But eventually he and a young girl with dyed blue hair approached. Since Barran was there, that was the only reason I didn't reach for my rifle and make a threatening move. However, I got up from the bench and waited for the pair to come to me. Although they had not quite arrived when Tommy introduced me to the girl. Was I her sister? For a moment I froze and my whole body went rigid.

"A what…?!" I asked.

I had to search Ziare's memory to see if she had a brother or sister. I didn't really remember any, I had been asleep for a long time. I knew about our brother, I knew she was dead. She was killed by Ziare, but I was partly present, deeply. In the end, MANIAC had to help me find the memories and data I had found. They immediately appeared on the screen and I could quickly scan the data. She was put in an institution when she was very young, and years later it burned down and everyone died. She died... so they didn't talk about her anymore; although my family didn't really talk about anyone who wasn't my brother. He was holy and good to them because he was a Force User and a Sith. None of this saved his life. But this girl...

"What kind of disgusting game is this? Keilara did have a sister... but she died years ago. Who is this girl?" I asked them with a snarl.