Private Not Yet Ripe | Sith Eternal

[Darth Empyrean]

Mors Mon​

876 ABY​

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The dreadnought was beyond massive - larger than the galaxy had ever seen until now. It held nearly the full strength of the Eternalist, compensated for by the fact it could appear anywhere in the galaxy whenever it needed. This made his focusing of his forces more viable than most would admit, and a fearful thing to experience. Many dozens of brigades prepared themselves for the next planet of their conquest, both to push East into the Outer Rim, and drawing up plans to claim the worlds of the failing Eternal Empire.​

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Now, the Dark Lord Darth Empyrean needed to secure his control within the Order before pushing too far outside. With the Mors Mon operational completion, the Eternals would need expand the industries of Jutrand - leave alone find a semblence of peace outside of martial law. Oppression had helped build the foundations of zealotry, but all from this point needed to occur more naturally, as allies rose to positions of power to secure his domain.​

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More than that, he needed to remind the Order of his strength. Too long had they assumed Empyrean a poor administrator and general simply due to inaction - unaware of his creation. Now with its reveal, the Galaxy would tremble - but that meant tying up the loose ends within the Order. Carnifex, Ophidia, the various upstarts. One in particular had tested his general Darth Nito , and his own plans to help validat Eternalist's promise to meritocracy over nepotism and inheretance. This Darth Atramentar had taken from him a few worthless nobles, but his willingness to openly challenge Empyrean's will a dangerous game.​

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He would pay for ambition, be it through reparations or wraith it did not matter. The issue at present was that he was another Sith Lord in the endless faces of upstarts in the Order - Empyrean had not built a strong dossier on every rampant warlord that had joined their ranks as their momentum moved. In time, he may send Gerwald Lechner or Srina Talon to better remind him of his place - but for now, he had better options.​

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"Summon Rayden Helonus .", Empyrean said as he lowered himself onto the obsidian throne of the Mors Mon.​

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"I would speak to him."​

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Darth Empyrean
LOCATION - The Mors Mon, Darth Empyrean's Chambers

Rayden was deep in meditation when the Dark Lord's servant came to his quarters.

It was not unusual for him to spend his free time this way, a commonality amongst most Sith. Where he differed from his brethren was in substance; the Sith Pureblood did not focus his meditations on his pain or anger, on his passion and ambition, not even on his failures and successes. No, Rayden preferred to travel back to his youth, back to the many expeditions he'd taken to his ancestral homeplanet- Korriban.

While many would, undoubtedly, prefer a cool breeze or light shower in a tropic climate, or the silence of an endless fog... he preferred the hot and rough sand of Korriban, to feel the merciless sun beat down on his bloody skin, to feel the dark embrace of his ancestors; Sith of both blood and ideology.

It comforted him. He merely hoped he might one day see the planet free of the arrogant crusaders, free for him to take his rightful place as it's lord and ruler once more.

The Arbitrator rose from from his knees, crossing the small chambers that served as his quarters and pressing his hand to the unlock on the door as it hissed open. The conversation he held with the servant, if it could truly be called such, was short and resulted in the servant leading the Knight through the new, foreign, layout of the Mors Mon to the chambers of their lord, Darth Empyrean.

Approaching the throne with a certain stride, he halted at it's foot and bent himself into a bow. Rising, he found it impossible not to briefly relish in the dark aura cast by his lord's very being. Casting his fierce eyes fearlessly upwards to meet the Dark Lord's, he regarded him with due reverence.

"My Lord," Rayden stated, not feeling the urge to state the obvious as so many others did. "If it would please you, I am prepared to report on my mission to Eliad."
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[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean could sense the rolling sphere of corruption in Rayden's stomach - a sign he was meditating only a few moments ago. His strength had been growing, even in the short span of their conquests, and it would enough to impress the Dark Lord. He adjusted in his seat and leaned forward - raised as he was, still looking down upon the Knight.​

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"I understand the planet fell under the control of Darth Xyrah . That is unfortunate...", he mused, holding himself up with his singular physical arm.​

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"I hope not all is lost. Give me your report, Rayden - I would hear your words with faith."​

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Rayden Helonus​

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Darth Empyrean
LOCATION - The Mors Mon, Darth Empyrean's Chamber

"That is... most displeasing, my lord. However, I hope that my efforts might dampen such a blow, and allow us a chance to strike back." Rayden began, bringing his arms behind his back, hands clasping together as he assumed a more... authoritative pose, one that lent itself to the pride he must have felt regarding an obvious success.

"Regrettably, I was unable to properly rendezvous with your apprentice, due to his initiative in assuring our success." he lead with, hopefully putting the less pleasant news first. "However, I was able to divert myself to a prominent noble who, prior to my efforts, fell just short of providing militant opposition to our occupation of the planet." the Knight continued.

He paused just a moment, perhaps for dramatic effect or simply to consider his words. "This noble was the Grand Duke, Ortega Haske. By wealth, he ranks amongst the top five on the planet, and is second in influence. It is my belief that his opposition inspired the more blatant dissidence of the lower houses, if he did not incite and fund it through proxies."

"I personally saw to the swaying of the Grand Duke, with negligible casualties despite the armed response of his estate." he furthered, taking a brief, obvious, moment to savour his self-satisfaction. "The Grand Duke proved most amiable to negotiations once I confronted him, and has agreed to lend us his aide in all matters."

"As a reminder of his commitment, I secured a... tribute. The Grand Duke's last surviving heir, his granddaughter, whom I turned over to the custody of the brig." Rayden paused at this, his eyes regaining their focus on the Dark Lord. "I believe you would have been informed of such, as I did leave such orders with the provost-sergeant."

"That is all, my lord." he added, with a small and respectful bow of his head.
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[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean sat unairing in his attention, though he lacked the common functions one takes for granted from a living listener. He did not blink, nor did he itch - nod, twitch, or sway. He was unnaturally still in watching Rayden as he spoke, his face awash in a miasma of apathy hiding any true reaction to the news, good or bad, that he had offered.​

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"This is good to hear.", he said gently, seeming to ponder the possibilities of such an asset.​

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"I have indeed been informed of her arrival, though I have since moved her to house arrest in the officer's arcology. A noble of her status should be kept well treated, even if we hold a knife to her throat. So long as she doesn't believe herself so much a prisoner, she is likely to help us more in the future."​

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He leaned back once more and motioned for Rayden to sit through the Force - like a tug at the coat tails of his person. Nearby, a Sepulchral cadre would lay out two pillows across from eachother, with a stone basin in the center. They seemed to be preparing some potion in its center, grinding herbs and ash into dissolvable powder.​

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"You have served the Eternalist's well, and so too your Dark Lord. For this, I will entrust in you a gift - a member of the Sepulchral for your advancement. They are ancient Sith who have honorably sacrificed their ambition for stalwart success of the Order. Know that they will never betray your secrets to another - not even I."​

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As promised, a second set of finely robed figures approached and kneeled behind the opposite pillow. They bent their heads forward, bowing to him - then closed their eyes and waited. A nearby Sepulchral priest with fading tattoo's nearly etched in the bone of his skull spoke up;​

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"You must study each of them with the Force. One will align with your sensibilities - they will be the easiest to bond to your needs.", he said through a tone of dust and archaic accent.​

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"Once you have chosen, we will begin. They will be bound to you, summoned to your call, and a repository for all the knowledge we hold. They will teach you as you become ready, and provide you much in answers to your questions."​

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Rayden Helonus​

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Darth Empyrean
LOCATION - The Mors Mon, Darth Empyrean's Chamber

Without uttering a word, Rayden lowered himself down to his knees as the pillow was placed infront of him. To his credit, he remained mostly silent and observant as the... Sepulchral? set up what looked to be a miniature ritual. Looking at the chalice, the Pureblood couldn't help but think back to his childhood and adolescence, spent exploring various ancient Sith Tombs on Korriban. The small space was certainly reminiscent of some of the ritual chambers there, even if it was just a couple of pillows and a mortar.

He was, of course, an avid listener, and he had more than sufficient reason to believe that any gift from the Dark Lord would be bountiful, if his new ship was anything at all to go by. Still, the promise of a truly loyal confident and mentor was... well, it was impossible to summarise the thoughts running through Rayden's head. These thoughts continued, even as the robed figures knelt opposite him.

Finally bringing relative peace to his mind, the Arbitrator raised his gaze, letting it flow across the litany of prospectives as he considered them all, first at face value; without the Force. There was a certain, subtle value to each of them, for they all possessed a trove of wisdom and knowledge that, unlike material gifts or possessions, could not be devalued or degraded by greedy men, frivolous currencies, or obsolete technology.

At the surface they were all identical, no doubt by design. A non-force sensitive, a lesser being, could choose any of them and would never know the value. Placing his hands upon his knees, Rayden closed his eyes and detached himself from the physical plain. His consciousness did not drift, so much as the very location. The basin, the pillows, the cold metal floor and the Sepulchral Cultists remained, but a familiar darkness enclosed around them, soon lightening to reveal the golden-orange sands of a Korriban night.

To the outside observer and, perhaps, to the cultists themselves... nothing had changed, but it meant a world of difference to the young Sith. Within his meditations, a red spectre rose from his still-kneeling body, crossing briskly over to the kneeling cultists. Considering each of the four for a moment each, it was not hard for Rayden to deduce their origins.

Each was an example of an archetypal Sith; a sorcerer, an assassin, a juggernaut and a marauder.

None truly had an advantage over the others, for all were merely different applications of the same creed. That was how his ancestors described it, atleast. Of course, he had always figured that he fell vaguely between a sorcerer and a marauder. He lacked the endurance to be a true juggernaut, and the deception to be a fruitful assassin. Of course, both the marauder and sorcerer cultists were valuable, Rayden could not help but feel himself drawn to the Sorcerer.

Opening his eyes, the Pureblood raised his arm, finger leveling itself at the cultist with sorcerous origins. "That one, my lord. The former sorcerer." Rayden said, with conviction. Of course, he had no way for certainly knowing that they were all archetypal sith, indeed, if it was by chance or merely how they were presented.

He didn't truly know if even Empyrean could tell. The Sith had merely felt... compelled to that monk, to the arcane dark side that seemed to resonate within, like a bounty of inexplicable, subversive, value.
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[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean nodded, motioning for the others to depart. All that remained was the singular Sepulchral member requested, adrongyneous by appearance, and decrepit beyond mortal measure. The corpse found their place across from Rayden, and the others brought out a small gilded decanter full of a dark red fluid. Pouring it into the herbs and ingredients, it seemed to smoke and bubble before settling - filling Rayden's nose with the smell of blood.​

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"This is my blood, Rayden Helonus. In it lies my loyalty, my knowledge, and my strength.", the Sepulchral said with a deep bow that found their forehead meeting the ground before him. For a brief moment, through the haze of blood and ceremony, Rayden could sense how deeply the power of this person went - aeons of a Sith forged into a library of their strengths, dedicating themselves entirely to his cause.​

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"Drink upon it, and your ambition will become mine. I shall share no secret, speak no word, do no harm unless you bade me to do so - you will be the first among my loyalties, and I will guide you as the Order has guided me. As my solemn, honored duty is, so too shall I impart it upon you."​

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Slowly, the Sepulchral rose to face them while the others began a deep chant. Empyrean sat motionless, watching as he had a hundred times before, allowing the ritual to proceed in his silence. After a few moment of the chanting, the agent he had chosen would lift the bowl and offer it to Rayden fully. A binding ritual, that would see the corpse bound to his will.​

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And when he drank, he would experience deep and vivid dreams of the future, of his dreams, and how he would see himself in time.​

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Rayden Helonus​

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Darth Empyrean
LOCATION - The Mors Mon, Darth Empyrean's Chamber

As the young Sith's gaze met with that of the lich, as he felt the immeasurable weight of the cultist's knowledge, he could not help but wonder how many would look upon the cultists as lesser, inferior beings; valueless draugr without a shred of purposeful value, merely because of their grave appearance.

It was an unasked question born in a moment of rare empathy, an empathy that briefly brought the pureblood into the shoes of his ancestors on Korriban. When the first Dark Jedi had discovered his people's homeworld, had they not thought similarly of their Order's namesake? Had the Galaxy not treated his people with a modicum of disrespect for their demonic appearance?

Taking the ceremonial bowl in his hands, there was a brief moment of hesitation by Rayden. Not an unwillingness, but rather, a moment of realisation. Raising his gaze from his own reflection, he regarded the cultist. "You honour me with your service, Sepulchral." he offered, a hint of light reverence in his tone; was it not, after all, the way of the Sith, of his ancestors, to respect power, however fragile it might be?

Closing his eyes, the crimson-skinned Pureblood tilted his head back, raising the bowl to his lips and letting the ichor wash past his lips. He had not fully finished drinking from the bowl when he was overcome with a powerful vision; far more potent, far more present, than any he had achieved in his meditations.

There was something to be said for his commitment, not a drop of the ichor spilling even as his present was overcome by the future. Vivid visions of Korriban, of the orange sands and of the millennia-old academy. He saw it as though he was there, but not, standing on the bridge of a Star Destroyer, a fleet under his command as he lead the reclamation of his homeworld.

The vision did not stop there, however. He saw himself, as if through the eyes of an onlooker, marching up the familiar steps of the Sith Academy, blood and sand staining his robes as he cut through the defenders. Seamlessly, the vision cut from the Academy on Korriban to... the Dark Temple on Dromund Kaas. The vision continued this way, tediously slow, switching back and forth between the two locations.

The foresight came to it's climax as the older Rayden, by now a Darth, approached a throne, amethyst lightsaber placed back upon his belt. It was at this point the two visions seemed to... overlap with each other, forming a single image of the Sith Pureblood taking his rightful place on the Ancient Throne, a Warlord Victorious.
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[Darth Empyrean]

Eventually, the visions would fade and he would be left feeling exhaustion - a bone deep, syrupy exhaustion that threatened to pull him into slumber. As reality flooded back over his gaze, the Sepulchral Lord would bow with head to floor once more, and then stand. Others would move to assist Rayden to stand if need be - but allow him to stand side by side before the Dark Lord Empyrean.​

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"Good.", the Corpse offered in a drawn out appreciation.​

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"You do well. Remember this, for I have many more gifts if you continue to impress."​

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Motioning for the gathered to disperse, the guards at the end of the room let their spears tail end slam into the ground in unison. The sepulchral bowed, and they all exited besides the personal assistant to Rayden. Empyrean moved a small crystal from across the room towards the center before them, bringing up a holomap of their territory - all the planets the Sith had conquered, most by his own hand or the Kainites.​

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Another moment, and he would summon others to the room to partake in their discussion. Arcturus Dinn , Adeline Noctua , Sharan Maevel - each intended to partake in his diplomatic plans. Until they entered, he would offer Rayden choice information;​

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"My power grows, and soon one of the Triumvirate will have fallen. I intend to make a deal, and establish the new Empire under my control. You, and the others who will soon arrive, will assist me in consolidating this power before that day comes. Establishing governors for our needs, finding potential Senatorial candidates, and bringing more Sith under the Eternalist fold."​

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"I have chosen you for this, because I know you are capable. You simply need the chance to prove it, to hone the edge of your ambition until you are a candidate for Sainthood. I am entrusting much faith in you, Rayden, do not fail me."​

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Rayden Helonus​

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

Mors Mon was not a place he'd been before. The Dreadnought was by far the largest vessel he'd stepped foot upon, and next to it his beloved Beholder was little more than a speck of dust. Nay... A single molecule. Still, Arcturus was not one to ignore a summons. He'd come as soon as he'd been sent for, and had waited patiently within the room provided for him until such a time as his Father was ready to see him. What this was all about he truly did not know, but he knew he'd soon find out.​

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He was deep in meditation when he was finally fetched, an unusually darkened aura surrounding the man who had been so reluctant to embrace it as a boy. Slowly he peeked one eye open, then the other, as he drew himself back to the present, and then he nodded simply.​

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Led into Empyrean's chamber, he discovered he was not the only one who had been sent for. Already a Pureblood stood beside his Master's throne, and two others were approaching too. He didn't turn to look upon them, instead he approached the throne and bowed gracefully. "How can I be of service, Master?" he inquired, deciding it best to avoid calling the man Father in the company of those Arcturus did not know.​

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His gaze drifted briefly to Rayden, and he inclined his head lightly his way by way of silent greeting.​

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Darth Empyrean Rayden Helonus ​

 

[Sharan Maevel]

A meeting. It was time to put things in motion, then.

Sharan entered the chamber not long after Arcturus, her presence contrasting with his quite drastically. The woman's signature in the Force was but a tiny spark, the presence of someone not connected to the Force like those she shared the room with were. Although she herself could not sense this, it was foolish to think they were anything but wielders of the Force. Her head bowed low towards Darth Empyrean, as his stature demanded. The necklace he had gifted her hung from her neck.

"My lord, gentlemen," she spoke in greeting, her tone carefully measured and with a slight raspiness to it.

Rayden Helonus | Darth Empyrean | Arcturus Dinn | Adeline Noctua​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio
Location | Mors Mon
Tag | Darth Empyrean Sharan Maevel Arcturus Dinn Rayden Helonus

How fascinating it was... Not the ship, the notes of course! Well... Ok the Mors Mon was a beast worthy of the highest praises, but it was hard for Adeline to pay attention to it all while her mind had been so dead set on learning more about the staff. Her most recent finding was that it seemed to be attuned to the very cosmos, or at least it had faint memories of it. Somehow, someway... Adeline had made the staff glow, watched it sync with the very stars! She felt its alien aura grace her mind for just but a moment, and then? Gone. That memory, that flicker of an eldritch sight had just vanished as quick as it came. Leaving the occultist to haphazardly ignore eating and drinking, or even sleeping. How could she feel it again? Feel them again? Whatever it was, whatever was watching... It called out to her, some disconnected voice from the stars, and one day, she would be able to understand its call.

But alas for now she had other things to do, the ring of a buzzer snapping her attention quickly from the dreamlike state she had been in... Ah, lord Empyrean wished to see her.

With haste she gathers her things, notes pressed up clumsily into a book as her blackened boots tread hastefully through the halls. Soon she would make it to the room where he waited, worn eyes paying little to no attention to the others around her for now.

"You called? I answered your summons as swiftly as I could, my Lord."

She gives him a curtsy, one gloved hand making sure none of her scribblings fell from the leather bound tome. The strange, pale woman looked rather interesting for a Sith. Adorned in robes as white as her flesh and hair, religious symbols of the Eternalist church being found in sections of the garb. Having the aura of a floaty yet curious mind, fitting the bill of an avid occultist indeed.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As they fed into the room, he acknowledged them each one by one with the proper respect for their position. They were rising stars in the Eternal political sphere, and it did them each well to be openly seen consorting with Empyrean. He knew this as well as any, and with the potential he saw, he would push for them to become valuable assets in the eyes of all his followers.​

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"I have gathered you all here today to discuss, plan, and execute a plan of internal expansion. In due time, the Order will consolidate into an Empire of my design. Within said Empire, I will require consolidated power to ensure the other Sith do not damage our path."​

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"For this, I have a goal for you gathered. Senator candidates must be found, Governorship's set up, and armies made. Together, you will work to find all these things - and bring them under your control."​

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"Currently, I have targets on Rutan, Resu Exodus, and Demonsgate. They must be dominated and brought into the fold - but I also need consolidation of power on Karideph and Askaj. What do you know of these worlds?", he said, leaving it as an open ended question.​

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Adeline Noctua // Rayden Helonus // Sharan Maevel // Arcturus Dinn​

 

[Rayden Helonus]

A R B I T R A T O R
TAGS - Darth Empyrean // Adeline Noctua // Sharan Maevel // Arcturus Dinn
LOCATION - The Mors Mon, Darth Empyrean's Chamber

Rising stiffly from the ground, unassisted, Rayden brought himself to stand where directed. While openly offered, the young Sith did not doubt for a moment that being assisted by the Sepulchral would be seen as a sign of weakness, a reliance on others. Still, the gentle advice on where to stand was... appreciated.

If there was a word for this mixture of nausea and exhaustion, he did not know it.

Curiously, his newly bound Sepulchral cultist stood by him; a fact he thought very little off, even as the Dark Lord equally burdened and praised him for his potential. It was not till others joined him in the chamber that the notion of him alone having a Sepulchral with him was a sign of favouritism.

He waited patiently, listened intently, watched closely. "My lord, I do not know these worlds intimately. However, I believe the natives of Askaj revere their sole moon as a deity, a facet we could exploit with ease." he said, plainly. Admittedly, he was not a political student and did much prefer studies of the Sith.
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[Arcturus Dinn]

It was moments like these that Arcturus found himself mentally damning the fact that he'd spent so much time outside of Realspace. There was simply an insurmountable volume of information to catch up on. When he'd last been Space-side they'd just recently lost Korriban to the Crusade. It was that sphere of space he knew best, over by the Tingel Arm, he was new to this region. Knew virtually nothing about any of it.​

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"I'm unfamiliar with these words in all but name, Master," he explained, though unlike Rayden Helonus before him there was little more for him to add. "However, I will do all I can to assist in bringing them to heel." He was a studious one, having enjoyed researching since the moment he'd first been taught to read by the man in front of him. Ever hungry for knowledge... ​

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Perhaps looking at these worlds with a clean vision, no pre-conceived notions beyond the bare facts, would actually be rather helpful though. ​

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With any luck the others gathered would have information. Already his mind was whirring, and a very real desire to access the holonet from his datapad arose within him. He had to avoid that urge for now... Later. He could research later.​

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Darth Empyrean Sharan Maevel Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"You all have a mission then. To not only learn what makes these societies and their people vulnerable, but how to also formulate a plan to exploit them.", he said simply.​

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"You are my hands and will upon the Galaxy where I can not be - your actions can define this empire. Do not fail me, and you shall all be rewarded greatly. Work together, and this will be a simple thing."​

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"Go, speak among yourselves here if you wish - but settle a plan. Divy the planets up, and complete what I have laid out."​

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Sharan Maevel // Adeline Noctua // Rayden Helonus // Arcturus Dinn​

 

[Arcturus Dinn]

With his Master's will made known, Arcturus dipped his head into a bow of respect and understanding. He turned toward the others who were gathered, mulling over the options at hand; only Rayden Helonus had given any indication of a planet he might personally seek to exploit, leaving the others up for grabs. With this in mind, he settled on a decision of his own.​

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"I'll focus my efforts on Rutan" he stated, "There are more worlds than can be split between the four of us. I propose we each choose one, and then work on the final together." A little unity would likely go a long way, it was important to forge bonds especially between fellow Eternalists. "I'll be sure to pass along my frequencies to each of you, we can discuss matters in detail."​

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Turning back to his Father, he bowed once more. "If this is satisfactory, My Lord?"​

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Darth Empyrean Adeline Noctua Sharan Maevel ​