Dominion &nbsp; Meliora | Tales from the Empire Pt. 2 (TSE Dominion of Ventooine)

Onrai |

AMCO |

At the moment, there was quite a parallel between the two ends of the huge hall. Ingrid asked the man a question, then there was silence between them. The same was true of the other end of the room, where she sensed the Emperor leaving the room in the direction of the balcony, then silence again, until finally the Shadow Hand broke the silence with a not very kind but all the more threatening sentence.

Ingrid glanced at the datapad, which made a sound, and then the man began to speak through it. She was already sure, without checking, that the man was a Force User and could even control the machines and talk through them. Is he a user of Mechu-deru? Or is it simply controlling electricity? Frozen in carbon. Had Imperial officers inspected this place before? If Ingrid had secured the place, it certainly would not have happened. She always did for a reason in the Eternal Empire when the Emperor went somewhere.

”Welcome, I am Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal, the Overlord of the Eternal Empire. You are currently on the planet Ventooine in a meeting of the Supreme Circle of the Sith Empire.”

She looked at the object, which the man threw in the other half of the room. Now that they were at the end of the room, she assumed the subject would go to the Dark Council and other officials, so she stopped it with telekinetics and put it down on the back of the room, but on the opposite side. Ingrid just took one look at the subject, not looking better. But she didn't want to get the negotiators' attention. And the man kept “talking” and really answered her unspoken question as well. Ingrid nodded measuredly and briefly at the machine words several times. She really got an explanation for everything, and even a lot more than she thought at first.

”I see, it's okay. Does the vow of silence include simple telepathy? I think that at this moment, to certainly not disturb the meeting, it would be more appropriate for both of us. Would you tell me what happened to you and when?”

She was curious about these so she could get an accurate answer to things and be able to put it all together. And the last question was really unexpected. It is not the question itself, but which faction the man mentioned. According to this, the case did not happen so long ago that he was closed and frozen, or even earlier and the stranger is thinking of the very, very old New Republic.

”I know of several New Republics throughout history. So it would help a lot to say the year as well. I mentioned the name of the planet earlier, and this place is now under the control of the Sith Empire.”

Crane Baxa · Oct 10, 2020

When the item was placed back, even if looked at briefly, one could tell the species of the male before her and a Nautolan in the picture. They looked rather happy together though...something looked a tad off. The male shuffled to the side, as if pacing as he started to decipher the information in his mind. The Eternal Empire? What kind of a name is that for an Empire? Least no one can forget two double Es, which is what he thought. However what struck him strange was...the Supreme Circle of the Sith Empire. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow but said nothing, the datapad giving a soft PUFT like noise, almost as if a bit of a huh but did not translate well. When he was asked to do telepathy, he complied as the datapad simply shut off as he spoke his mind, trying to answer each of it in turn though his voice was now more...squeaky, most likely unintentional but also his species dialect accent.

"The Supreme Circle...of the Sith Empire. On a planet I never heard of...nor where I was frozen at. I was on Toydaria when I was betrayed...we still near the Outer Rim? As for the Vow of Silence...I guess it just means more of not physically talking. As for what happened..."

There was a moment of silence before he looked behind him and jumped up just a bit to sit onto a counter. His legs would dangle quite...humorlessly, considering real human height would just have his feet planted...instead it was like a bad optical illusion as they would sway in and out of the wall when moving them back and forth. Considering his words carefully, gave his thoughts to the lady known as

Ingrid L'lerim to let her know.

"I was over at Toydaria, finalizing a deal to close down my business...I was ready to retire, I have started to grow old and my fur needed to be colored almost weekly to maintain looks. I wanted to live a much more peaceful life as well...so I arranged a meeting with the Kiaka Clan, the Hutts. When I went over, I had my local enforcement on standby but...I was betrayed. While I am a rather skilled fighter, I was knocked out cold by my...well now it should be deadbeat, useless, wannabe nerf herding son of a mother...stupid sith spawn idiotic massive green tentacle eyed diagonna smelling piece of mynock dung former boyfriend!"

At that point as he gave his rather winded and long rant mentally, his disguise faltered a bit till he could breath a bit. It apparently been still stressing him badly after being woken up, his emotions were currently a whirlwind of pain and suffering. Tapping his hands together for a few seconds so he could calm down, his disguise would slowly regain full control as he breathed in and then back out, his temper may be a bit of a weakness for him. Speaking mentally again, he would look at the lady before him.

"Sorry...anyway, that...person, was the one who when I woke up, shoved me into the chamber. I still don't know why as I was frozen at that very moment, right after the Galactic Empire had ceased to exist on 23 ABY, the ABY meaning After the Battle of Yavin which for some odd reason, is used like a calendar. Regardless, I am going to kill not only him but every single damn Hutt of that Clan for what they did to me and my droids."

Then...it hit him what she meant by the second part from earlier. He was so enraged, so mentally exhausted that he could not understand what had all occurred. He been frozen a very long time and for someone to say..."Multiple" New Republics would only mean...no, it could not be.

"Wait...multiple New Republics? What...what year is this?"

Ellie Mors

Darth Carnifex

Onrai

Ingrid L'lerim · Oct 11, 2020

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium

Location: Meeting place, Ventooine
Equipment: 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Gildenweave Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | Shield talisman
Tags:

Onrai |

AMCO |

She didn't get an answer at first, but the fact that the datapad fell to the ground and turned it off was quite talkative. The red-haired woman already knew from this that the man agreed to use telepathy. Let’s just say the whole thing was a rather strange attitude, if she had made a vow of silence, she would have cut herself off from the Force so that she wouldn’t be able to speak at all. But it’s also likely that each person may think differently about it. The next moment she heard the man's voice in her mind. Toydaria… events happened far enough away. It could have been an interesting story of how the man got here.

~ We are at Tingel-arm, close to the Oricon system. Toydaria is currently ruled by the Silver Jedi Concord, close to the Bryn’adûl border. ~

After that, as apparently the man intended to tell what had happened to him, the red-haired woman watched with interest. Luckily, her interlocutor was open enough and also spoke voluntarily, she didn’t have to really pull out every single sentence and word out of him. So he felt less like he was being questioned. Though Ingrid took it for granted, she couldn't really do anything else, she was originally an intelligence officer and an agent, for her it's a professional harm. While the man was “talking,” she analyzed and weighed what she heard.

It wasn’t just the swearing, emotions, and body language that betrayed how the other still felt about it. It was enough to make it stand out to anyone. If the man expected comfort and compassion from Ingrid, he would not receive it from her. The situation did not require the woman to play this. However, she raised an eyebrow for a moment when the man mentioned the Galactic Empire and ABY 23. Then the other slept more than she first thought. From this she already knew that the mention of SCJ and Bryn’adûl would say nothing to the other because he did not know them.

~ I think you're better off sitting down. You will not be able to fulfil your revenge. We are writing ABY 862 at the moment. According to them, you spent almost 840 years in carbon freezing. There is a good chance that their descendants are no longer alive to those who have done this to you. We live in a very different world now than you are used to. ~

Crane Baxa · Oct 13, 2020

"The Silver Jedi and the Bryn'adul What are they, some bad cover bands? So that blonde Jedi made a name for them other than "academy" against what, a bunch of fish?"

It was a smartass remark, he still thought he was in his realm though when the lady known not now as

Ingrid L'lerim told him to sit down...he actually did so. It was strange but he listened to her very intently. Then he heard it all...his face went from intrigue...to confusion, to outright horror with his mouth hanging partly open. His eyes looked even wider than a humans were supposed to be and finally, that was enough to break his illusion as it just...outright vanished. The face of his almost matched identically to his own illusion as he looked to the side and then down, in almost complete and utter shock as his mouth moved, realizing what he sought...was no longer possible.

"Eight...eight....eighttt....hundred...years."

He almost looked like he was about to hyperventilate, breathing a bit quickly as his own two hearts started to pound in his chest as his squeaky voice seemed to become a bit raspy. Now a closer inspection would reveal for his age, he was rather old at this point. To anyone knowledgeable about what he was, it could only be estimated to live for only a few more years. Grabbing his own ears, he pulled them down over his head for a moment as he suppressed a scream, gritting his teeth as he tried to just get over what he just learned. Shaking, he would get up a bit quickly and go over to a strange jar in the room as he opened the top of it and screams right down into it as it was deafened quite a bit...but what was stranger was that it could be felt he was using the Force to scream even louder but for some strange reason, the jar absorbed the whole thing. Pulling back, he would place the lid back on and shake his head as he breathed in and out, calming down.

"I...I have literally nothing. My business is now dust most likely and now I am without purpose! Three, four years max...in a different time."

He seemed to get a bit mad again but he thankfully calmed down, shaking his head as he sat back onto the counter as he no longer tried to hide. What was the point? Might as well been dead this whole time and time was starting to run out for him permanently every day. Even starting over his career, there would not be enough time to make it work. There was just...nothing he can do except wait for the end.

"I...I think I need to gather my things and...think where I am going to go from here. Half of this is probably antique...probably buy me enough time till the end."

Getting up, he would start to carefully pull off each weapon on the wall with great care, removing the power packs and checking for corrosion before placing them on the table. In a span of five to ten minutes, he went from denial, anger, sorrow and then acceptance all at once. They are just...a very curious species.

Darth Carnifex

Ellie Mors

Onrai

Ingrid L'lerim · Oct 13, 2020

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium

Location: Meeting place, Ventooine
Equipment: 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Gildenweave Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | Shield talisman
Tags:

Onrai |

AMCO |

A Blonde Jedi? Ingrid could only think of one person from that era that the man could have been Luke Skywalker. She was the only such more famous person at the time. She was surprised that the man complied with her request and sat down. The shocking things she was about to say were such that it didn’t hurt to listen while sitting down. Like a bad medical diagnosis. As she stated how much the man slept and what year number they wrote, she also saw and felt the shock from the other direction.

The red-haired woman even felt sorry for the man for a moment, but very soon suppressed this feeling. She didn't really want to think about how she would feel if she slept that much. That she would have lost everything and everyone who was important to her. Just for a moment she wanted to hug Adrian and snuggle him. It is true that the L’lerim clan existed then and now, so there would have been nowhere to go, but otherwise she did not know what she would have done completely from scratch. She would probably have reacted like a man, despite her well-controlled emotion. Even the illusion that surrounded the other was broken. She can’t blame him.

~ Yes, so much time has passed. I'm sorry. ~

That “sorry” might have sounded even more honest from her “mouth” than she would have liked. Ingrid raised an eyebrow again as the man hurried over to the room and used Force Scream. So he was a Dark Side Force User. However, it was even more interesting that the object he screamed endured this and swallowed the whole scream. She made sure that

AMCO wanted to examine both the man and his ancient objects. She looked for a moment at where her fiancé had been, but she still closed all her thoughts and feelings to her lover. The Overlord still didn't want to disrupt the meeting.

~ I think you have countless options. Not many people are given the opportunity to start all over again. ~

She actually saw countless opportunities, she knew that members of this race didn’t live too long, but the man was a Force User, which gave him a lot of extra options. For example, to live much longer than his peers. But these probably still had to be reconsidered by the man to gather himself.

~ You may be old, but why should you die when other members of your race? As a Force User, you can easily prolong your life with the help of Force. And then you can definitely find new opportunities. The Sith Empire will certainly help with this, but so will the Eternal Empire if you accept the offer. I’ve always been interested in history, you could tell me about the old world and old times, and I would honour your efforts generously. And I can help you to find your place in this new world. ~ she offers this opportunity.

Darth Voracitos · Oct 17, 2020

Voracitos, as many Sith of this generation were, was an unnatural abomination. The nature of his power and proclivity came from sources not his own, dutifully stripped from those incapable of holding on to it. The balance of the force tipped not to darkness, but a strange deathless axis. In many ways, sorcerers and those who practice sorcery like Voracitos, found themselves dipping upon this access to grant themselves powers unnatural over the force. Many scholars of the Sith arts often wondered the origin of the Sorceror traditions, why certain actions and phrases held undeniable power, available only to a selected few among the wielders of the darkside. Tradition was one answer, but it was not the entire story.

The Darkness was a cancerous perversion of the force, something which many even on the side of Typhojem as the spawn of Darth Alecto called it, would know to be true. Yet the power that the Triumvir of Knowledge had been tapping into for the past unknown amount of time, did not come from the darkness inherent within the diseased form of the so-called "Living Force".

No. His power came from beneath the rotting gangrene of the passed on, the unrelenting, the persistent, the dead.

At first, the Sith Lord had consumed hundreds of living Sith, became Emperor, and died assassinated without a tether to the force. Then, he had consumed hundreds of Sith Lords and thousands of individuals, but found himself unable to control himself in the face of the present sitting Emperor, and was punished by his hubris. Finally, he had learned the lesson that few Sith Lords made, though many have come close to... The true power of the force was locked away within the persistent souls of the once living so relentlessly cancerous in the dark, they took their power with them into the hellish undeath of Chaos. A wretched place, that Voracitos had wade through now, for a relativistic century.

The fate of trillions, perhaps even all lives, now lingered within the relativistic cosmic cone of the creature known as Voracitos the Chaos-God of Gluttony.

The quaintness of the Sith Empire's pitched war with the "New Imperial Order" seemed to be an amusing thing for the single-eyed abomination. Billions of lives perished, only to find their souls persisted unnaturally, against their willingness even... what little darkness within them, no matter their state of innocence, added to the ledger of Chaos. It seemed as the Corpulent One gorged upon the conflict, his chin dripping in the blood of the Sith Worlds, his former attentiveness to his material possessions had become... lax.

A flesh golem in the appearance of Voracitos prior to his ascension on Rhen Var appeared before the assembled Sith, as it often did. Yet it, like many of the other assembled, spoke no words of defiance, deference, or support. It simply was. It observed, and recorded, but there was a sense that the eyes set within its fatty folds held little agency of thought on the matter.

"Hmm." The puppet rumbled, breaking any awkward silence.

Onrai |

Ingrid L'lerim |

AMCO |

Thaelius | Ben Acrax |

Arctus Silmar

Arctus Silmar · Oct 18, 2020

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity
Whilstone of Power|| Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian
Voice Sample

The Shaper had thus far stayed silent in these talks. The malignant light of The Iron Crown keeping him from hiding in the depths of the room's shadow. The main reason for his silence was a profound sense of appreciation for Darth Mori's idea. A skilled, if overt, usage of a potent form of alchemy and sorcery. A firm hand of control along with a dogmatic principle with which to subject the minds of the people would prove a potent and mind-rending idea from which it would take a monumental will to break free of. It was insidious, it was clever if a bit blunt, and it continued to show the many-fold applications of his craft in startling effective detail.

However, this was not the only reason for the Shaper's profound silence. The Whilstone of Acuity had been abuzz with visions since his arrival at this meeting, an almost-audible hum emanating from the shining stone in place of the Shaper's voice joining that of his contemporaries. Many, many visions flooded over his gaze and through his mind's eye. The fabric of these visions rippling like the disturbed surface of an ocean at his attention. In these rippling reflections he could see several potent futures for those present. Of their

Darth Carnifex he saw him within a great, floating, living vessel alongside Darth Mori (

Ellie Mors )overlooking a sand-choked, ravaged world.

Of the Shadow Hand

Darth Prazutis he saw his hulking, armored form on a planet that felt strangely familiar to him. No. Familiar to this very body he inhabited. Anzat. He saw the Shadow Hand, prepared for battle and radiating dark majesty, within the confines of what appeared to be a warehouse. Wherein he would be met with resistance, with the sickening light of the Jedi, and the Shaper turned his head as a physical rejection of this vision despite his physical eyes being closed. As his unseeing face turned it fell upon the Corpulent One, the Unseen God of Gluttony,

Darth Voracitos and his head stilled once more as even more visions filled his mind.

These visions that came to him now were swirling, solid whirls of glass and solid reflections, the images even more potent and tangible than those he had seen of the Emperor and Shadow Hand. As the Whilstone's light fell upon the flesh golem of Voracitos the Shaper's head tilted back ever so slightly. A singular, powerful vision filling his mind's eye as he saw there the tethers that bound the mockery that stood in their presence. The Whilstone's light allowing him to gaze upon the unseen will and form of Voracitos, the chords with which he used to animate this puppet of flesh, and therein he saw the Gluttonous One's vast power. Roiling, choking, filling hunger beyond reason. Of gorging and consumption beyond sanity and a feast of souls unending.

The Shaper then saw something else within this roiling mass of power, and his eyes opened as he saw something he would ever keep to himself, the Whilstone's light dimming as he turned his attention away from Voracitos. His arms crossing over his chest as his eyes briefly flitted back and forth before him and the ground, lost in thought as his lips worked in soft, dissonant whispers that would just barely grace the ears of those closest to him.

Onrai |

Ingrid L'lerim |

AMCO |

Iasha Rha · Nov 1, 2020

While the brass were busy with their talks of reformation, the Acolytes of the Sith Empire were sent to do their masters' bidding and bring Ventooine to heel.

Iasha studied the holographic feed of the compound ahead, captured by a series of probe droids hidden in the surroundings.

Inside, a cabal consisting of Ventooine isolationist and pro-democracy fighters were rumoured to have a meeting. The suspicion of the Sith Empire was that they were coming to an accord that would mobilise Ventooine's political machinery against the Empire. While the Empire could bring it to heel by military Force, that would create further instability and invite rebels as it had on Gree and Asation years previously. So, instead of a hammer, they required a surgical instrument. Iasha was that instrument; a scalpel to remove the cancer of Ventooine.

The feed showed guard positions and cameras, but it had some blind spots.

The twi'lek considered for a moment, looking from the feed to the compound. She closed the hologram and put it in a pocket on her belt.

"Let's go."

The lightsabre filled her hand as she assumed a sprinter's position, then shot off towards the compound's outer wall. It had a blind spot between two cameras, but there would be guards on the opposite side. She would have to dispose of them quickly.

The grass parted in front of her as she rushed toward the wall. One stone jutted out of the grass in her path. Iasha jumped onto it and used it a a base to launch herself into a high, force-aided jump. Her body turned in two axes in the air, flipping her forward and spinning her around so she faced the way she had come from. She activated the lightsabre and threw it as she flew above. The bloodshine blade sank into a guard's shoulder and chest, emerging from the opposite side. Iasha's feet touched the ground, but the mometum was too much, forcing her to fall into a backwards roll that brought her up to the wall.

As she stood up, she reached out toward the sabre and called it back to her hand. It extinguished the moment it touched her palm, and the twi'lek breathed out.

"One down, eleven to go."

She checked the blaster at her side.

Gunnr Zambrano · Nov 2, 2020

“… no further negotiations…”

There was a certain level of treachery to a woman in the shadows. No chair given, for a seated position meant integral seconds between the threat and rebuttal Gunnr refused. The burgundy chersilk of her cape pooled around boots of beskar treated to shine like gold. Spoils of battles past.

Behind her husband’s chair, a rather gargantuan woman watched in silence, with piercing amber eyes. Empress Consort Gunnr of House Zambrano took two solid deep breaths of the Ventooine atmosphere. The Empire her husband promised on the day he resurrected her from a drowning death shifted sideways.

To time, all places of permanence were shifting sands, or so Ahani mumbled as she packed their children’s clothing in crates. While Gunnr frothed at the warrior within to stand beside her husband, her Koe during the Battle of Bastion, one touch of his hand upon her cheek, the stroke of his thumb… and she bundled up their toddler, their twin sons with the other children of her sister-wives, and ensured every warrior she possessed was at the ready.

The future required maintenance. To leave their family unprotected was anathema to a Panathan Matron, and future of House Fitz-Kierke. As

Darth Carnifex rose, Gunnr was the dutiful wife, silent not through fear or false inequality, but because words were meaningless in this place. Any words to be said would be spoken in private, with Ahani and their Koe. Perhaps a few of the other wives. Gunnr was not present to wield the words of state, but to support and shield her husband. How could such a man require a shield? The new scars upon him gave Gunnr enough notion of the truth of Kaine Zambrano, while an unparalleled warrior and Dark Lord of the Sith, his safety was tantamount to her own. To their children’s. She thought of their twin sons, eager to don armour and fight beside their father, their young daughter Taiya… the ones she left Kaine’s side to protect. Yet, guilt was a curse of false mercy.

“Evolution. We press forward. Those who resist will be cast into oblivion.” The voice familiar, grating down to Gunnr’s core… An oppression shuddered through any room with the Lord of Lies in it, he alone was the only man Gunnr could fear, if she gave herself such foolish luxuries. As she walked behind Carnifex, she sought out no glance behind, or stroke of his fingers against her own, their affections were myriad and lasting, while locations such as Bastion could be dashed down and destroyed, the bonds of their blood were eternal.

This was the promise, the fulfillment of a once-deceased dream. Palaces, planets… places of power would eventually all crumble and fall when one sought out the length of time as Ahani did, as their young son learned in his father’s meditation chambers. Shifts of Empires, moments of evolution were the spearhead which allowed the shaft to impale all who will eventually turn to sand.

Koe knew when this day concluded where he would be, as did Gunnr. By each others' sides.

Taeli Raaf

Darth Prazutis

Ellie Mors
(OOC: Sorry for the post rust! Diving back into the swing...)

Iasha Rha · Nov 2, 2020

Iasha kept her hand on her blaster as she quietly followed the wall.

Coming to the corner, she lowered herself into a crouch as she counted the guards. She couldn't see the three at the door, but she knew they were there from the security feed. There would be two more at the front of the compound's gate, looking out ahead and another two at the rear entrance, at the vehicle storage. Presumably, there was another one like the one she killed on the opposite side of the compound. That accounted for nine out of a total of twelve she knew of. Presumably, the remaining three were inside the compound along with whatever security the visitors may have been allowed to bring themselves

It was a tall order, but Iasha was determined not to disappoint her masters.

The twi'lek opened her satchel and rummaged within before bringing out four orbs. Two were yellow, two were smoky grey. She looked over at the guard placements again. If only they were more clustered. It was a long throw too, would she be able to? The moment they went off, all hell would break loose. Then again, the moment she got inside, all hell would break loose as well. She would prefer to have a clear path out when it did.

"Fine."

Gathering the orbs in the crook of her arm, she took one of the grey orbs and threw it as far as she could into the yard.

Pop! A grey smoke spread out, obscuring the area. Next, a yellow one. She threw it where she knew the two guards of the outer wall were supposed to be. the grenade screamed when it landed, and she could hear the guards screaming as well, falling to their knees in agony as the sonic grenades put them out of commission. She threw another to the front of the building, hitting one of the guards in the side of the head just before it exploded in its sonic terror. One of the guards, a bith, clutched its head for a moment before the mist was suddenly coloured red by a second, natural blast.

Woah! "Over here!"

Iasha heard their voices, their footsteps. They would soon converge on her position. So she pulled her mask up over her nose and dived into the smoke, rummaging again through her bag of tricks.

Skorvek · Nov 4, 2020

Objective: Seize the means of production

It has been awhile since his last battle and the task before him while wasn't much compared to his previous battles it didn't matter the task was to seize production from the people here that refuse to submit and he along side of

Adara Raxis shall do so, the Powerplant that was their target was guarded, he had a few ideas how to deal with the guards but not without possibly sacrificing the plant as awhole which would nullify the point of this objective. He looked to Adara in his armor and spoke too her. ''Observe little Princess how easy a soul can be utilized for whatever task you wish.'' Was all he said before he turned to the powerplant before them as they were not far from it he raised his hand forth and the language he spoke was an old old Anubian dialect not spoken for along time and for a reason some of h is kind would frown heavily upon using the old toung for this purpose and as he did the lights would flicked and dim as if power was being drained for some other purpose causing the outside gate guards to be confused for a moment before several spectres from the shadows emerged.

They appeared without sound or emotions as they emerged they lunged into the guards, for a moment the guards seemed to be dazed and confused before they regained their composure their eyes glowed a dim cyan color to signify that the spectres he sent forth where pulling the strings as they waited for the right time and signal to move for now they play their part as he pulls their strings.

Darth Prazutis · Nov 4, 2020

It was a sight to behold.

Beneath the site that their meeting had taken place, a vast ocean of Sith-Imperial stood waiting. A great pedestal stood in the epicenter of a vast balcony, large enough to hold all of the leaders of the empire at once. All around them the devices of ORDIS hovered, optics transfixed on the pedestal ready to begin as soon as one took the stage. The order had been given and it would be so, every world in the empire would receive the broadcast that would certainly mark a historic day in the history of the Sith Empire. As the group proceeded however it wasn't the red headed youth, Vesta Zambrano who would take the stage. It was one who had lurked behind the curtain, in the shadows for so long. The sound of machinery came as the helmet retracted to reveal the face of the Lord of Lies. The giant lumbered forward and stepped onto the pedestal, lights going red on every device as soon as the broadcast had begun.

"Citizens of the Sith Empire, for fourteen years the Rule of Order has carried us forward. The union that birthed Sith-Imperialism stands as a crowning achievement in Sith history. Together we pressed into the future, we plunged into the heart of chaos and we brought order! All who stood against us were laid at our feet. The Dominion, the Free Worlds Coalition, Commenor Systems Alliance, and even the decadent Galactic Alliance fell before us! We took up arms against the scoundrels of the Outer Planets Alliance, and the resurgence of the Silver Jedi. In so doing, we never suspected that the greatest threat came from within.

Members of the Imperial Military, along with elements of the bureaucracy, had conspired to create a separatist movement to overthrow the Force-ordained rule of the Sith. They had hoped to grind the Empire into ruin. But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. At last, there came a day when our enemies showed their true natures.

These ‘New’ Imperials hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Empire by assassinating the head of government and usurping control of the Imperial army. But the aims of would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without the malignant tumor of treason lurking within their sharp minds and their stalwart hearts. Though wounded, the Empire endures!

The remaining New Imperials will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on our sovereignty has left us shaken, but not broken! We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Empire will reform its government and its driving principle. No longer shall we remain stymied by the chains of the disloyal and the corrupt, we shall move beyond! We have emerged from the crucible, stronger and purer than ever before.

By bringing the entire Empire under one law, one language, and the guidance of the eternal enlightenment of the Sith, we shall endure for well over a thousand years. Though an individual may die, the Sith are eternal. Let these words stoke the flame of loyalty in your breasts, for they shall guide us into this bright new future.

Under the edicts of Sith Eternalism, our most cherished beliefs will be safeguarded. We will defend our ideals by force of arms. We will give no ground to our enemies and will stand together against attacks from within or without. Let the enemies of the Empire take heed: those who challenge Sith resolve will be crushed.

We have taken on a task that will be difficult, but the people of the Empire are ready for the challenge. Because of our efforts, the Tingel Arm has traded war for peace and anarchy for stability. Billions of beings now look forward to a secure future. The Empire will grow as more planets feel the call, from the Rim to the wilds of unknown space.

Imperial citizens must do their part. Join our grand star fleet. Become the eyes of the Empire by reporting suspected insurrectionists. Travel to the corners of the galaxy to spread the principles of Sith Eternalism to barbarians. Build monuments and technical wonders that will speak of our glory for generations to come.

Our proud Legionnaires have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example.

The Sith will triumph over the shadowy secrecy of shameful oathbreakers. The direction of our course is clear. We have been tested, but we have emerged stronger. We move forward as one people: the Imperial citizens of the tenth Sith Empire. We will prevail. Ten thousand years of Sith supremacy begins today!"

The giant paused his mesmerizing speech as the broadcast image of the former sigil, banners draped and flags that hung all transitioned from what was, into what would become the symbol of the Sith Eternal. A cheer rose like a thundering boom from the crowds below. What began as a slow rumbling turned into frenzied cheers and cries of devotion, a deafening applause. Beside him stood his child, and on the other his nephew, a symbol of unity and strength.

AMCO |

Onrai |

Thaelius |

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Arctus Silmar |

Adara Raxis · Nov 4, 2020

No more reason to hide in Sith Space. Since Wayland, the truth of her father separated most but kept those who were dear closer to the young Princess’s heart. She was Adara Vigdis Zambrano, the daughter of

Darth Prazutis and the Infernal, not through romance but genetic manipulation. Through the strongest choice a parent could give, to wrap his fingers round the fledgeling soul and claim it as his own. While

Ellie Mors remained by their father’s side, it went to Adara to aide in furthering Ventooine’s attached state to their Empire. In so doing, Adara was hemmed in and protected by one she loved most of all.

“Yes, Uncle.” Uncle

Skorvek , the Anubian who saved her life from the snow when she was such a young little child. The powerplant in front of them was large enough to fuel more industries than Adara cared admit, a sorry loss if it came to damage, but the sort of boon a young teenager wished to present their father when the ephemera of battle cleared. “I promise not to muss it up.”

The Anubian’s voice echoed forth, guttural and destructive. Adara clung to a little blue book in her pocket, nothing but a minor series of cantrips built in to record a transcript of spells and words of mystery. The usual trappings of her palatial life were replaced by a cloak over her beskar’gam, the white under-layer dyed black against detection at night.

As the spectres took control over the guards, Adara rushed forward with a gasp. “Uncle, teach me?” With this sort of trick, they would take the facility without a single casualty! How fortuitous to bring more workers to the collective of her family’s vision. Past the guard tower, she slid into the shadow beneath the inner wall and whistled low.

“Tell us how many there are, and their armament.” Two ghostly images shifted out of the girl’s cloak, and rushed off in a host of whispers. She glanced up, up at Skorvek’s face with a smile. “See? I was listening the last time. I don’t think they can do more than watch and report, though.”

Darth Carnifex · Nov 4, 2020

It was time.

The Emperor listened to his uncle's words as they rang out across the assembly, the cheers and chanting that follow a deafening cacophony which shook the ground beneath their feet. Though they had been diminished, though they had been wounded, they were still not without power.

Bastion had been a lesson, a humbling one. The Emperor had retreated into deep reflection following its fall, pouring over the ancient wisdom of the Sith who had come before them. Remnicore had become a second home for the Dark Lord of the Sith, the deathly wastes a cold comfort, the windless silence as welcome as any lover. It had been there that he had formulated the actions he was about to take, the words which would soon leave his lips. Those who would rise come after this speech had been told of what he intended, and they were more than prepared to do what was necessary.

He stepped up ahead of Prazutis, briefly taking the forefront of the assembly as he raised his hand for silence. It came slowly, the passion which burned bright among the congregation was not so easily quelled, but the silence did come.

"Brothers and sisters of the Empire, devotees of the ancient power of the Dark Side. Since this Empire was founded I have sat upon the throne of the Sith, guiding you towards a greater future, a future where the galaxy could again be righted. Much progress has been made, but more yet remains on the path to endless power. Though we have stumbled, we have never lost sight of our true goal. And that goal will one day be achieved, but it is time for a new direction. To this end, I have come before you to tell you now that I have relinquished the throne of the Sith, in my stead will arise

Darth Prazutis , the new Dark Lord of the Sith, and

Joycelyn Zambrano , your new Sith Emperor."

Prazutis, the uncle who had remained by his side since he was a young man. Mentor, friend, brother, Shadow Hand. There were few within the Empire that Carnifex trusted more than him, and there was no one else he would rather see assume that mantle.

Joycelyn, proudest Joycelyn. The strongest and most capable of his children, the apple of her father's eye. She had long been groomed for this transition of power, although he doubted that anyone, let alone Joycelyn herself, expected to be thrust onto the throne this early. Such adversity would strengthen her, he was sure of it.

She was not like her other siblings.

She was strong.

"Today, the Sith Diarchy is formed. Long live Darth Prazutis and Darth Vornskr the Second!" The chant was picked up by the crowd, rising up into the air as the now-former Emperor raised both of his arms in adulation, appearing as if to bask in the reverence which poured out from the assembly.

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Thaelius |

Ingrid L'lerim | Ben Acrax |

Darth Voracitos

Arctus Silmar |

Onrai · Nov 5, 2020

Vanessa's jaw dropped at Kaine's words. Did he... Had he... He had! And there wasn't even any sort of direct opposition to him! Her befuddlement that a man who sought so much, whose desires extended to the command of all time and space, would relinquish the position of ultimate power he wielded over the Empire, though who he relinquished it to was hardly surprising.

Darth Prazutis had always been there to mentor him, and

Joycelyn Zambrano was the inevitable one of his mammoth brood to garner his support and be deemed Empress. As the thoughts ceased racing within her head, she began to understand the dichotomy - Joycelyn was of the ruling lineage, but she was not as experienced and wizened as Prazutis was. An intelligent move made by the no-longer-Emperor

Darth Carnifex .

This changed things tremendously. Vanessa had little direct knowledge as to how much the new rulers of the Empire knew about Kaine's plans. Braxus she expected knew of such, but Joycelyn... Joycelyn was to her knowledge someone who had been forging her own path. Someone Kaine had not aggressively interfered in the development of. She doubted the new Empress knew anything about it.

Regardless, she was at least glad there was no civil war, no thronebreaking, and no invasion by the Jedi.

Kaalia Pavanos

Taeli Raaf

Darth Athora

Thaelius

Ingrid L'lerim Ben Acrax

Darth Voracitos

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Gunnr Zambrano · Nov 5, 2020

The wall of noise struck her first, Braxus’ thunder followed by the catastrophic rain of the crowd’s screams and applause. Words of power, previous statements veered into focus as she listened from the shadow of the dais. A shift to the dynamic of all important things. The thought struck, almost as old as Gunnr, that Braxus was the more dangerous of the Uncle and Nephew Sovereigns. It struck from memories distant. Locked behind a metal veil.

And now with eyes unclouded, Gunnr Zambrano watched her husband after

Darth Prazutis ’ boisterous oration to the throng. The final act of Emperor Carnifex, to give his throne not through the pain of massacre, but the pleasure of familial betterment.

Joycelyn Zambrano was truly the best of the Zambrano offspring, a fact the mother of four refused to dispute when looking at her own younglings. They would grow with time, see their sister as a pinnacle to be aspired to, an Empress to aide and serve with the pride of familial bonds… but woe betide twelve year olds for their strength in comparison to a woman who by all rights, was barely younger than Gunnr herself… if Joyce was the younger at all. A single image came then, a beach and Joyce’s clothing. Some form of laughter beyond her recall. It came and faded with the roar of the crowd.

A new age for the Sith Empire, and a man diminished only in those responsibilities which kept him from the wives who adored even a piece of his shadow. Emperor Emeritus

Darth Carnifex raised his hands to the overcome populace, the last praise of its’ kind for a time. Once his arms descended, Gunnr walked to her husband’s side as he turned from the edge and took his hand. Eyes to his eyes, as they were near identical in height, she scanned his face, the softest glint of a smile breaking the veneer of cold command and repressive duty. He belonged to them now, her sister-wives and herself. To their children and his own pursuits. Battles would come at their choosing, not the Empire’s call, and their younglings would grow knowing their father’s hand of guidance and stern command.

“I understand now. I see why you waited before you carried my soul to its’ freedom.” Emerald eyes softened with amber strokes shifted from the mystery of his brow to Kaine Zambrano’s bearded lips. “I know my mission, Koe… in this? I took the step before you.”

Two steps, or was it four that took them from the roar of the maddened crowd? Gunnr let her fingers entwine with his, her other hand on his shoulder as she leaned to the side to kiss her stoic saviour. Ghosts of Mandalore were millstones to the soul pulled from Ithor’s black lake. They haunted no one now, silenced in the bliss of her time being nothing but her Koemi’s wife. Mother of his children in truth instead of secret. And now… when one’s husband held such weight of time and event, finally the young bride had one experience before her groom.

“You were right, pi sezi. It was never the throne which brought me to Sundari that day, I wasn’t capable of letting you go. And now I don’t have to.“ The ability to walk away from a throne and through the Gate Beautiful, into another kind of life. They were free.

Ingrid L'lerim · Nov 5, 2020

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium

Location: Meeting place, Ventooine
Equipment: 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Gildenweave Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | Shield talisman
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Onrai |

AMCO |

Something was made, she already felt it when

Darth Prazutis started talking. She was still watching with half eyes the man who was there with her, but also what the Shadow Hand had said. So far, she had known the man as typically in the background, so it was surprising to her that it was she who was making such a report. It used to be the man's wife's business, not his. But the woman was no longer among the living.

As for the speech itself, yes it was one thing that had to go through, the Sith Empire had lost a lot of things in recent months. Ingrid was also considered insane to re-ally with them and not stand up for the NIO as before. There were reasons, even if in terms of the end result, the NIO represented what the Eternal Empire needed. That is, to Tacitus. However, everything is changing.

Ingrid knew that the new plan was that the entire Force should be destroyed, originally they only wanted to eliminate the Light Side. It would even have been a walkable path. No, still not because of retaining or gaining power. She just really thought that what Wardens was up to would destroy all life, not just the Force. They may have been proficient in necromancy themselves, but even then…

Though these were there in her thoughts, she was still watching what the Shadow Hand said. Sith Eternal. She thought the name was a bit ironic after what the name of their own empire was. It was an expected announcement, but the next one was pretty shocking. At first, she didn't want to believe she heard it well. Luckily, there was nothing on her face to see how surprised she was and not even felt through the Force. She still can control her emotions.

Darth Carnifex resigned the Emperor's title and stepped back?! She looked at

AMCO in a moment's confusion for a moment to catch the man's gaze. Did the Dark Council know about this? Or anyone else? No, apart from the three people involved, she didn’t really think so. Sith Diarchy, this almost sounded to her like the old Rule of two, just in a new robe.

She focused for a moment and then sent a telepathic message to

Joycelyn Zambrano and

Darth Prazutis .

~ Receive my sincere appreciation and congratulations on your appointment, my Lord! I am confident that the Sith Empire will live its golden age again under your control! ~

Joycelyn Zambrano · Nov 5, 2020

Joycelyn could feel her heart beating all the way to her fingertips. Each beat was like the blow of a hammer, sending a reverberation throughout her flesh. Slow

She should have been nervous, and yet-

Many a great ruler had been thrust upon their destiny before their time was ripe.

Each blow of the hammer in her heart was like the striking of a bell, clearing her mind of all fear and doubt she had ever had about her own worthiness. Slow and steady, like the beat of a war-drum on a long march, like the steady stream of artillery shells that soared above when she fought in muddy trenches for this empire her family had carved out in dedication to the Dark Side of the Force. Loud and present like the thrumming heartbeat of the Sith walking eternal into the future. Ten thousand years of Sith supremacy, her uncle said before the declaration was made. Ten thousand years of Sith rule.

Ten thousand years of my rule, Joycelyn mused as she stepped forward from whence she had sat throughout the meeting.

Her footsteps were heavy, yet sure a she strode down, forward and up to join her father and uncle, not far behind Gunnr. The light of the stage fell upon her, illuminating the new Empress black hair, in which nestled a crest of gold- her pallid complexion, through which ran silver traces of scars from the fights she had fought for their empire- the athletic yet, comparably lithe form that reached just taller than her father, clad in a suit reminiscent of Imperial Legion high command, but decorated to suit her previous standing as heir apparent: Red and black cut in sharp contrasts, shoulders draped with a short cape, collared with grey fur that nestled up to her neck.

Joycelyn put her hand on her father's shoulder, opposite to where Gunnr sought his attention. Her hand squeezed his shoulder lightly, then let go and brushed down his back.

She looked out towards the cheering crowd, eyes like molten gold studied each face as her lips drew into a smile, and the hand that had caressed her father's back rose high, then bega to wave. She was popular among the troops and their families; the Sith who fought beside them. She had earned this, she had fought for it. Unlike so many of her brothers and sisters, she had not rolled over and asked with please and thank you; she had marched into Thule and claimed what she believed to be her birthright. She took her father's legacy by might, stepping over anyone who sought to keep her down.

And here her work came to fruition. Well, almost to fruition.

She looked to her uncle, the Dark Lord of the Sith. Dark ambitions nestled in her heart still. Hunger, desire ever present.

No usurper will sit on the throne

Or so the oracle had told her.

Fine, she would play along. She smiled, they cheered. She looked to the Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire and gave a small nod. There would be time for grand speeches, for promises and declarations.

For now she basked in the glory of their cheers, their devotion.

Onrai

Iasha Rha · Nov 5, 2020

Another one of the hard, cold orbs filled her palm.

Iasha pulled it out and listened for a second before throwing it. The orb vanished into the mist, making a thud and then a scream. Meanwhile, her hand shifted on the grip of her lightsabre as she turned in the direction of the first ones she had paralysed. She couldn't see them in the smoke, she could just hear their echoing cries of pain, a choir of discordant, shaking voices from different places.

And yet, she could feel them.

Their pain drew her in. It reminded her of one time she had seen fish in a tank being fed. They all swam up and nibbled the little pieces straight out of the water. Somehow, they always knew the food was coming before it came, they always waited. She was the fish, they were the food. Iasha ran through the smoke until she found one, then activated her sabre. It didn't need to be swung, its touch was death. She slashed at the other, carrying one movement to the next.

Shots rang through the smoke, causing her to duck away and back.

Where did that come from. It became suddenly apparent that the sabre also was a beacon for them to attack. She deactivated it quickly and jumped into a roll as she ran toward the entrance. A kicked crushed a larynx, then a sweep of her sabre slashed through the two of them. The sound of boots sounded behind her and she pivoted, bringing her sabre around. However, a hand met her face first. A straight line was always quicker.

Her head snapped back, then was seized by two hands that gripped her headgear. Then a knee struck her abdomen, knocking the air out of her and the sabre out of her hand. Though with the air escaping her lungs, rage filled the emptiness. Her red hands seized the large mitts grabbing her head and twisted. The motion was agony, but need drove her. She sidestepped and pivoted while holding the hands, until the snap on her headgear came off. Then, swiftly, she grabbed the wrist and turned the other way. Putting her weight and momentum into the motion, she wrenched the wrist sideways until the body attached to it followed. Falling on top of the body, her fists collided repeatedly against flesh and bone in a relentless expression of violence.

Everything was silent, but she felt herself scream.

A hand shot up and grabbed the end of her lekku, commanding her body to be still as her head was yanked back. A fist collided with her abdomen again, this time forcing her to suck in the persistent smoke of the grenades.

Iasha didn't notice herself drawing the blaster from her side, but the light of it illuminated the smoke as she fired it repeatedly into her assailant's obscured form from point blank range. Blood and dirt sprayed up from underneath as the body was lit with red from the repeated blasts of plasma.

AMCO · Nov 6, 2020

How quickly the currents of politics shifted, especially in times of crisis. The betrayal of

Irveric Tavlar and his ilk had dealt a blow to the Sith pride far more insidious than that of their own treasonous peers, for as much modern Order espoused the importance of loyalty, Sith remained Sith.

Powerful, yes, perhaps even trustworthy, but never someone whose loyalty can be taken for granted.

Reformation was in the air, as inevitable as the passing of time, its name... Sith Eternalism.

Face giving away nothing of the spike of concern-tinged-with-annoyance he felt, the Lord of Progress remained in the background as history was written. As the throne was split in twain, one half to the Heir Apparent and another to the looming shadow that was the Emperor Emeritus' uncle.

Vesta had been clear enough about her intentions, about the true nature of religion - a tool to control the masses, to convert them into willing tools of a higher purpose, no more and no less. Not ideal, to the secularist in his heart, but logical in its own way. Pragmatic.

He could only hope this fanaticism would be a similar mirage, to those at the top.

Kaalia Pavanos

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