Pride and Preju-Sith [One Sith Trial, OS Only]

[Isar]

The Son of Endor would not be denied his advances! Verily did the Ewok set his mind to the task, working therein many machinations like a spider with its web. Here a string, there a string, all part of a vast, glistening web, which Warok spun with maleficent glee. This was his net and with it he would trap his quarry. Hunting had always been the most prodigious of Ewok skills.

It is I who still feels the breath of the wind spirits on my face. It is I whose heart still beats with life. You were a worthy vessel for the Dark Lord, but now you are broken. I have his favor now.

The Ewok's face was scrunched up in concentration when [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"] came to sit by him, he nearly missed her bow. That gave him a little thrill of pleasure. It would be rude to just blow her off, especially considering who her master was. Warok's cheeks puffed out.

"Hello."

He resumed his mental duel with the former King of Panatha, still thinking the spirit but a random unbidden apparition.

Is this not the way of the Sith? The old and weak must fade before the new. Give me your strength and together we will have power beyond imagination.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

You know nothing of the Dark Lord's favor, he has foretold of my demise, and the understanding that would come from death.

He was surprised a creature of unassuming form could be so nimble with his mind, but alas he was faced with the tenacity and ferocity of a hunter. While refreshing the face someone on the field of mental combat after a horrific lull in the bowels of the Netherworld, he had wished it had come from someone more... un-furry, but alas he was stuck facing down a talking teddy bear from some backwater forest world in the Outer Rim with no significance other than a battle eight hundred and forty years prior to this day. While Warok used a net, the undead King of Panatha preferred something like a spear, it's mental edge sharp as it battled against the web, cutting through the mental cords that comprised it's shape.

You think me some common ghoul?

Fool! Do you even realize who you toy with?

I am the Voice of the Dark Lord! Vessel of his will!

I am the Butcher-King, Darth Vornskr, returned from the dead at the Dark Lord's bidding!

I will smite you down should you continue to harass me.

[member="Warok the Defiler"]

 

[Isar]

The reveal of who he fought came as a surprise to the Ewok, but his faltering was merely momentary. What greater glory and power would it be then, to capture the spirit of the Panathan King?

A spear played poorly against the net, as any Cauldron gladiator would well know. True a spear could cut at the tip, but it was easily entangled by the undulating strands of a net. Warok gnashed his teeth and continued to weft strings of necromantic sorcery about the fallen king, faster than he could cut them.

In many ways their combat mirrored the battle between civilization and nature. The cranes and skyscrapers might dominate the landscape for a day, a year, centuries, but in the end they would lie forgotten, mere rusted ruins, overrun by weeds, vines and errant trees. Such was the way of history, though oft misinterpreted by those who wrote it. Kaine brought the knowledge of civilization. Warok brought the primal wisdom of nature. Two realms. One ruler.

Kaine Zambrano was not the only scion of prophecy.

Spirits of Sith Lords were potent. Those who underestimated them often found themselves playing the sudden role of an ash tray. But the spirits were far weaker than they had once been in life. Power in the Force came from midi-chlorians. Those who had significant portions of their body replaced by cybernetics saw this power diminished. The same is true of spirits. While many might cite Exar Kun as a way that the dead can eviscerate the living, in this regard he would prove an ill comparison. In order to become such a powerful spirit Kun had had to slaughter thousands of Massassi in a ritual. [member="Darth Vornskr"] did not have that advantage.

A more apt parallel might be drawn between the fearsome Dashade, who was overcome - albeit with great difficulty - by Darth Nox, who was at the time but an acolyte. Either comparison might be flawed in one form or another, but the central focus stands on the contest of will between Shade and Sith. In this regard, Warok stood a chance.

You are sword rusted by age. You serve still, but are easily shattered and tossed aside. Think what greater acts we might accomplish together, your power channeled through me.

 

[Reverance]

He gave a nod to [member="Darth Ferus"], the only significant gesture towards the suggestion. He wasn't even towards through the judicial process, far removed from complete contemplation of sentencing. And he listened to [member="Darth Hauntruss"] make her suggestions, after accusing. Another thought towards punishment, another potential consequence for the accused. It seemed there was a plethora of options.

Drawing disappointed gaze, if only for the single second of his expression, he looked upon [member="Silara"] from the tilt of a shoulder and careen of neck. It wasn't that her words were false, it was merely that they were delivered in such passionate form - removed from the place of responsibility bestowed upon her. Perhaps the standards had been set too high, with the inclusion of [member="Darth Adekos"]. Passion hidden deep beneath level head and calm words, giving the presentation of point, relatively free of perceived bias. And then, [member="Darth Valtryx"] spoke, words of how she feels about [member="Lady Hel"], as if her opinion of the defendant would be considered over the judgment of the three presiding judges. In his own way, Gabriel mourned her departure from reason, drawing light to her own moral conundrum and mind set, absent the presence of intended impact.

And as [member="Darth Carach"] and [member="Darth Adekos"] spoke once more, Gabriel waited potentially for his chance to step forward and progress the proceedings. Standing up, as Adekos made his urging towards the Judges, an act which was obviously not needed, he slowly scratched the flesh of a scar sealing his eye. Deft thumbs pressed in, dividing the last half of the orange, as he ate another quadrant. Only one left now, the situation was turning dire.

This was a trial of the flesh, the sins tied to the shell. And all he could hear were the derangement of the mind, casting guilt upon the already proclaimed guilty. But he wasn't one to loose his lips for the sake of taunting the accused, as her time would come soon enough. The concept of an inner demon was not something new beneath any sun, and the change of the colors of the eye were a notion easily replicated with technology and trickery. And sure, her presence may have changed but to the Wrath, it may has well have been the norm. It had clearly been shown that the individual was capable of changing her mind and loyalties at the flick of a wrist, multiple lives offered for the value of one. This recent change in mood did not prove innocence, but merely the insubstantial commitment of the accused to her practice. The lightside was weak, the clinging to its value in a land filled with the far more capable darkside, was a practice in futility. And while Gabriel didn't truly understand what was occurring in it's entirety, he didn't need to. It wasn't his job to access excuses offered to save skin, but more actions taken that drew blood.

"We will have order..." He spoke candidly and openly, as he addressed the crowd with a strafe of his focus, the wobble of his head from right to left in slow sing. With a slow pause, he tilted his head towards Alexandra, before speaking. "Darth Vitium...Darth Carach. As presiding judges, you reserve the right to specifically question the defendant. This can be done either through direct commentary or calling to the court any you would perceive as equipped with insightful knowledge towards the innocence or guilt of the accused. " If not, the trial would continue, in an orderly manner, the declaration of the judges towards the guilt or innocence of the defendant following what defense may be left for the defendant, through a final comment by the accused or those who would support her.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Lady Hel"] | [member="Darth Arcanix"] |

 

[Onrai]

Circe's eyes lingered on [member="Darth Arcanix"], her suspicions regarding the dark personality within Alexandra growing more and more confirmed by the moment. She knew that there had to be one way to resolve the situation - [member="Lady Hel"] was always quite mischievous from what she recalled, and would likely try to cause Alex the most trouble she possibly could. There was one possible way to fix the torment, to ensure that the situation couldn't get out of hand, and that the Echani would be able to still prove useful to the One Sith. And it was because of such that she sent a quiet message mentally which Taeli would hopefully receive:

The lab... Don't forget the lab.

 

[Zola]

"Hello, little guy...er, My Lord." Jemmila greeted the Ewok [member="Warok the Defiler"] with a smile and a nod, her hair falling softly forward, as she settled in to watch the theatrics.

My oh my, the trial was an illuminating spectacle indeed, but not for the reasons one would think. Despite warnings to be silent, [member="Darth Adekos"]' hot wind continued to plague the room. The snoozing Herglic Sith looked about to fall over on a guard, the crushing weight of his impact sure to cause disabling bone breakage. The defendant changed her identity halfway through the trial for reasons which escaped the Hapan. Puzzling. Also, did no one seem to notice or care that the presiding judge [member="Reverance"] was peeling off bits of his own flesh and eating them as if they were a Sunday brunch? She knew him by his reputation as the Lord of Pain, but for Edge's sake! Bile rose up in her esophagus as she caught sight of it. Sure, they were all Sith, but Jemmila still enjoyed a Wildspace sunset or the sight of a meteor shower over the Coruscant skyline. Yes, she trained with a plasma blade meant to viciously maim enemy, but she had no intention of becoming a creature that munched on its own anatomy.

Then upon closer inspection, she realized that Reverence was eating an orange. A literal orange. She breathed a sigh of relief, but had a feeling she would never again be able to eat fruit without a slight gag reflex.

Damn that Darth Carach. The man had her so flustered that she was seeing things.

Jemmila was so disturbed by her previous thoughts that she scooched closer to the tiny ursine Sith Lord who seemed to be watching the courtroom proceedings in some sort of trance. The warmth of his soft fur might provide some comfort. She was tempted to reach out her hand to give the Ewok a scratch behind his ears, but supposed that it would be disrespectful to the diminutive forest creature. For the time being, she rested her hands in her lap and continued to watch.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Vi'kas was using the force to look around the room, scanning for trouble. To everyone else. It'd look like he was looking forward at attention. However, he was doing otherwise.

He saw a huge... animal tipping in it's chair, about to fall on him. He sprung forward in a forward roll, dodging the falling beast. He had managed to look up at it before it fell, so nobody would realize he could use the force.

He frowned, staring at the fallen aquatic Sith. He motioned for a few other blackblades to come and haul it out of the room. He and five others tied it up with cable, and began pulling it away. They had never trained him for this in the academy. Scratch that, he had never gone to the academy.
[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

The trial was shaping up into a three-ring circus. People, it seemed, had accepted the change in the white-haired traitor without a ruling from the judges or from the Wrath himself. It pained her to see the others easily manipulated by this woman. Her words meant nothing to the Sith Lady. She betrayed the Sith once she would easily do so again. Was she the only one that saw through her facade?​

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To add to this, someone was using the Force to scan the area. Was this one of the white-haired woman's co-conspirators? She located the source of the disturbance and shook her head, placing a hand over her face hiding her laughter from the others. Did this individual really think he could fool the Sith Lords and Ladies in this room? Perhaps a lesson in manners was in order, but she didn't feel to be the one to do so; she was more focused on the trial at hand. So she left the fool to continue on with his charade without interference from her.​

​

Darth Venefica turned her head as Lord Wrath spoke, mentally agreeing with his words. She was growing wary of this trial. Perhaps she should just hop down and kill this woman now, saving everyone from listening to more of her lies. However, a part of her was still intrigued by how all this would be played out.​

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[member="Matsu Xiangu"] .. [member="Vrag"] ... [member="Reverance"] ... [member="Lady Hel"] ... [member="Darth Arcanix"]​

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

A nightmare full of whalers, spearing his body with harpoons and then dragging him away! It was too horrible, oh the humanity!

Orcus snorted awake to five Blackblades attempting to drag him out of the court. He stood and shook them off easily, ripping the cable in half with a mighty flex.

"Hauum, unhand me."

Then he grabbed the nearest one by the arm, it happened to be [member="Vi'kas Mirtis"], and threw him over his shoulder.

"Let us go have a chat," the cetacean boomed in an attempted whisper, bass voice rich and oily.

He strode out of the doors to the court and into the atrium before setting the Blackblade down. "Who exactly do you think you are?"

Eyes as dark as an ocean trench glared down at the helmeted man.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Vi'kas's dark gaze bored right through the helmet visor. "Who do I think I am? I'm the guy you nearly crushed. I'm the guy who was trying move you out of the room in the middle of a court case. I'm the guy doing my job. And what about you, friend? Is your job to impede mine, to interrupt a court? Or shall I go back to my station?" Vi'kas was the slightest bit mad at the situation. He had almost just been crushed by a whale, after all.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Orcus clapped a flipper to his belly. "Ha! You've got stones, lad. Hauum."

The Herglic was thick skinned in more than just the literal sense, though a sharp enough barb might pierce the hide. Woe betide the fellow who brought down the whale's wrath.

The cetacean's wide grin spread ear-hole to ear-hole. "Few would stand up to a SIth Lord and hold him to account. Fewer still would talk to one in such a manner as you. And none of them are in the Blackblades, hauuum. Who are you really, little man?"

[member="Vi'kas Mirtis"]

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Vi'kas was not overly surprised that the whale had discovered he was not a blackblade. It was bound to happen sooner or later. "I am the Demons's Fist, and that is all you need to know." He brushed past the Sith Lord, about to re-enter the courtroom.

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

A massive flipper extended to press against [member="Vi'kas Mirtis"]'s chest, stopping him.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Mr. Fist. Letting an unknown masquerade as a Blackblade. Highly unorthodox. Oceans below, what if you were a spy? It would never do. Bad for publicity."

Orcus' benign smile never wavered. "Now if you'll stay with me, I have a few questions for you, Mr. Fist. And then you may resume your duties, such as they are."

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Vi'kas frowned. He stepped back, simultaneously pressing a button his his wrist. This would tell one of his men, Captain Nexu, to wait on standby. He wasn't sure if this whale would try and hurt him, so he had to be cautious. Then, he looked up at the creature, saying "You have two minutes."

[member="Hion the Herglic"]

 

[Isar]

A shapely leg brushed against Warok's fur. The Ewok Shaman started out of a deep trance. Eyes resembling burning tar pits, fire cascading across their oily sheen, flicked downward. A fuzzy furrow appeared as the littlest Sith scrunched his brows together. What-.... Oh. The ursine necromancer puffed out his cheeks, round ears twitching furiously.

The strands of his glorious sorcery fell to sudden chaos, as if a rancor had decided to join in on a game of jenga.

Ahem uhm... what were we... oh right... You win this time, Kaine Zambrano! But we'll meet again!

And then Warok ceased his magics and turned to fully regard [member="Jemmila Kyrgen"]. What was the saying? Any Ewok Necromancer who can safely bind a spirit while sitting next to a Hapan is simply not giving a Hapan the attention she deserves.

"Dark Maiden, where do your thoughts run?" His voice was low, for an Ewok, and he spoke with a halting voice, words coming in high peaks and low valleys rather than the rolling hills of a Rodian's lilt.

The Ewok suddenly remembered he wasn't supposed to know Basic. Alas, the Boar-Wolf was out of the trap now.

He laid a comforting paw on her hand, warm fur against flesh.

"Whisper and I listen. Mock and I laugh."

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Ellie Mors]

Have order? For once she was a bit lost on that, or rather the meaning of the word was lost on her. There were many interpretations to that little label, and more often than not they were entirely unlike the others. She knew of the agenda of those such as [member="Darth Vornskr"], and that of her previous master @Darth Mierin, both had two entirely different and opposing views to that of her own. But she shook that aside - her disillusionment was another topic of conversation altogether - and turned her attention back to [member="Lady Hel"]. Her mind was already made up, but for posterities sake she would allow the woman one last chance to save herself from a fate far more cruel than death - a fate she could only dream of putting a certain Jedi Grandmaster through. "I have one, single, question for you, Alexandra - and I expect a straight answer, and only one answer, to my question in turn." She said with a heavy, tired, sigh. "I couldn't care less if you believe it was the right thing to do, whether you succeeded or not, I only want the answer to my question." The Sith lady continued, closing her eyes while she spoke. "Are you, Alexandra, guilty of treason against the Dark Lord and the One Sith at large?" Silara asked, bringing her hands together at the railing before her. She held no visible expression, but her tone was rather bored, as though this entire debacle was meaningless to her - as it was, although her involvement with [member="Alric Kuhn"] had forced her hand to get involved in any capacity.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

[member="Silara"]

She remained silent for the longest time, Hel wanting to say yes but something was holding her back as a bit of Alexandra held on and Hel seethed at the interference of the worm. She could destroy her stupid parent personality for ever, she would watch her parent personality suffer and laugh if she said yes. But this worm would not let her utter the word which infuriated her further until finally she barked out the words as the aura around Alexandra's body twisted itself between the Dark Aura of Hel, and the Light of Alex, the struggle for who would answering finally coming as Alexandra got out only one sentence before Hel stomped her back down. "I am not guilty of betraying the Dark Lord and his One Sith." Hel was pissed and anyone able to reach out and touch emotions would feel Hel's anger and Alex's sense of victory over the creation that once more filled Alex's inner mind with thoughts that caused her pain. Finally the other personality had control but the words had been spoken already... she would see Alexandra suffer for speaking when she was in control.

 

[Ellie Mors]

Her expressionless mask soon twisted into a victorious smile, she could feel the turmoil from even there - something of a byproduct of her extensive delving into the art of consume essence, a lost art of the Sith that was used to empower themselves from the various emotions of others and her exceptional skill through telepathy and awareness. Though she was unaware just what was bothering the woman she could only assume the sudden outburst of denial was the issue - an issue that would prove to be suicide for the woman in white. A traitor through and through, it seemed. Incapable of understanding her wrongs, unable to fess up, to admit defeat, and then so perversely infatuated with a sense of good and righteousness that it made her, and likely her 'brother', [member="Darth Carach"], sick. Subconsciously she rolled her closed eyes and leaned back with a sigh, scoffing at the woman's audacity. "A foolish remark, to say the least." She commented, making a dismissive gesture with her artificial left hand while she tilted her head towards [member="Reverance"] . "Incompetent in even succeeding, she believes her failure to perform a successful act of treason to prove her innocence." The woman continued, not missing a beat while she lowered her hand before turning her head towards Carach. "There is a portal to the Netherworld positioned above the broken remains of Corella and its Yuuzhan Vong counterpart. I move that she be cast out from the galaxy into the depths of the hellish realm beyond and permanently severed from the bonds of the force, lest she manage to return and create larger problems for us in the future." Silara explained, her head rotating again to face [member="Lady Hel"].

"Banish her to the Shadow Realm Netherworld."

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

"Excellent, hauum. Now then, I'll need your name - your real name, Mr. Fist, to compare against my manifest of authorized personnel. Something I have access to, you see. In addition, I have been in the One Sith for quite some time and I know most of the Voices and Hands, Lords and Ladies, personally. None of them have mentioned to me an authorization for an operative impersonating the Blackblades. Zambrano may not have looked kindly on it, were he alive."

Orcus waved a flipper dismissively.

"Regardless, it is understandable that they would not have found it worthy of mention at the time, but I'm afraid that I'll need the name of the individual who authorized your induction into the Sith. Again, regrettable that any of this has to occur, but we must be thorough. Wouldn't want to let just anyone masquerade as a Blackblade. It would be unseemly."

He smiled amiably, patient as a... well, as a whale.

[member="Vi'kas Mirtis"]

 

[Saera Willamina Savan]

"Mother," a whisper would speak out behind [member="Enigma"]'s ear, its source slowly manifesting behind the woman as a cloaked and hooded figure with twin tails and the distinguishable scent of roses. "Normally I'd detest this fragmented husk of a woman... but I am not the naive girl I was nearly seven years ago, and she has done nothing to scorn me. These trials... they are surely a joke.... Petty, lowly creatures, these Sith are; they stir and squabble and achieve nothing for it. Why must you belittle yourself upon them?"
The young White Current witch huffed at the notion of association with the Sith, pulling her black hood back just enough to reveal the outline of her green visage. Though she was no such figure, her eyes bore the fiery texture of the Dark Side.
None would have noted Saera's entrance save her mother herself in the Force, her presence quite naturally resembling that of a common Sith Apprentice -- or, in fact, a Master, considering the sealed nexus she bore with her as her saber -- without even the slightest precautionary White Current manipulation necessary. The one thing the girl could not shake was the floral scent that followed her... and the 'interesting' effects that came about inhalation, suppressed retroactively only by her own will in the Force.
"I've not come for her, though. It's about mo- about Aynea. Your ring...."
Saera frowned, her fangs overlapping her lip in clear disdain. The subject of her stalking would have been obvious by then.