Private Sleeping Waves

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Palace |
x
Tag: Darth Empyrean
_________________________________________________________​

He lived still. Through her. Through their newborn stars - And in himself, his memory, and his actions.

Empyrean seemed to accept her honest words with grace, though, the abrupt change of subject told her that the impassioned discussion had ended. Even though she still held the proverbial book wide open. He would not know the ache in her chest when the blush of true death was barely a cause for concern. Had he given up in her absence? Had the damned Sepulchral filled his mind with rocks in their putrid attempts to control him? Or…Was he merely exhausted?

Too tired to fight for himself.

So…He fought for their children. For their legacy.

The walking corpse gave an indication that privacy for husband and wife was destined to be short-lived. He moved to stand and she slid from the arm of the chair in the same way that smoke might roll through the air. It was an act of endless grace, silken, and enviable with regard to beauty. Nothing so soft should ever be capable of such violence, such brutal, acts. Yet—She existed. "Must we…?", her words were punctuated with a deeply dissatisfied drawl.

Srina was inherently a selfish creature. She had lost count of the moons that had passed in which she had been denied one of three things that she craved more than anything in the universe. Now—One of those things wanted to make her share his presence? Heresy.

"Perhaps…", she mused, slowly, turning around his withering form to find the hand that wouldn't burn her through with corruption. "They would benefit from a reminder."

"Your Empress has been away for quite some time. The mice in the cage will have no doubt noticed and will need to know whether to welcome my return or stone my flesh until I'm properly repentant. A few of your guards actually refused me today…Is there some new law?", Srina queried while letting her hand settle neatly in the crook of his elbow. It was a familiar act. empyrean wouldn't be able to feel her as he once would have, but she refused to change the things that made them who they were. "Something that requires me to schedule an appointment to see my husband?"

Such blitheringly moronic bureaucracy was the death of progress. She understood that tradition was what drove many of the Sith to join their cause, however, it was not so long ago that they had both railed against it. They still did, to a degree. "I think not."

"You will walk your Lady to Court and let their heads spin while rumors generate."

The vaguely mischievous side of Srina made an appearance before she let it settle beneath a veneer of cold perfection. Her weight shifted from one side to the other while her stance straightened and she brushed a wealth of white hair over a bare shoulder. She was already heretical in her white and gold brocade that hid more weapons than the nearby armory, but that was never enough. She always had to push the bar once her annoyances were stoked. "Perhaps, I will sit in your chair."

"The Sepulchral will love that."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Quietly, though perhaps to Srina's knowing, Empyrean made silent plans to see his guards disappear. There was consideration for minor mistakes, but there was never a 'minor' mistake one could make in relation to his wife. These men who had denied her would die, regardless of their reasons as to why they had done what they had done - and Empyrean would think nothing of them. Let their families mourn, let their children pity parents they never ought to know - because the only will that mattered in this Empire was his, and his alone.​

​

"They will no doubt throw a fit in a few days as to 'cordiality', 'regality', and whatever other nonsense they require of me.", he spat and sighed, deep and relieving as the pressure of the thought fell away at her touch.​

​

"They've a flair for the dramatic, but despite their antediluvian age, they consistently act petulant. My patience for such wanes, but alas - they're too useful, too influential, to simply ignore entirely. Take your seat where you will however, I'll deal with them later.", he said with a barely perceptible grin as he glanced to her, letting them walk from the alcove.​

​

Srina Talon​

 

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Palace |
x
Tag: Darth Empyrean
_________________________________________________________​

"Of course, my Emperor…"

Her glacier tones held a note of warmth that could have been considered a tease while she unfurled her free hand to offer a lackadaisical curtsey. Srina had never been one to scrape or bow and it showed as the act almost broke her back. Even, in jest. "We simply must observe all tradition, laws, expectations…"

Her eyes rolled heavenward, though, she had in all actuality already completed the task that was demanded of any female member of royalty. It was considered the greatest gift to bear an heir for the Emperor, rather, would have been, were they not in Sith Court. She had provided two. The experience had been…Unspeakable. But the outcome?

They filled her with purpose. Their children…Were precious things. A tangible product of everything they had endured and triumphed in order to stand beside one other. Their love was rather traditional, transcendent, even if the relationship was not. Her family hadn't taken the news entirely well that she was marrying out an outsider, but they had warmed to the situation once realizing there was no choice. They could either see him as she did—Or suffer the cruelty of her scorn.

It would not be so…simple…for them to accept that her snowy-haired mate with the iron eyes was a man no longer. The term Corpse King…

She heard it murmured with a mixture of pride and fear in Court. It would not be so on Eshan.

Srina picked up on the faint grin that her husband offered and expressionless features would internally mirror it. They could have a wicked sense of humor when left to their own devices. Some of his former attributes had rubbed off on her, just enough, that she seemed more well-rounded. Less like a statue parading about, play pretending, to be a person. "I have missed you.", she announced, brazenly, as if it were a forbidden topic. As if it had popped into her head fell from her lips by accident. "I…"

"Always, miss you."

She kept his arm while they walked through halls of obsidian and absently enjoyed the simplicity of being in his presence. Many found it unbearable. The enigmatic, seething dark, but Srina found a quiet place in it. Buried beneath the waves of might. A small, modest dwelling, where she felt most at home among the Sith Order. "What's on the docket for discussion today?"

Honestly, she expected it to be the same thing as before. Bureaucrats were infamous for chasing their own tails endlessly…Though she supposed Empyrean would tire of it at some point and either force them to the point or remove the problem entirely.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"I know.", he answered. It was all that had to be said between them - they'd long moved past the need to overtly state their needs back and forth on and on like teenagers pruning over every minute detail of their first love. For all the depth of it, she could feel his every thought, know everything that he was or will be for better or for worse. In that regard, he knew she missed him, and she knew he missed her, more than a statement could ever explain fully.​

​

"As for today...", he said with an over done, play like sigh, his grey chest heaving as though it needed the breath.​

​

"... Taxes, another attempt at legalizing chattel slavery, another proposal for 'droids' as our mainline force by a person with too much stake in droids for their own good, clone armies, privateering, industrial concerns, and the ever present expansion of the Crusader State on Korriban.", he said quickly.​

​

"Yet I intend to drag matters to matters of expansion once more. Keep the Sith's eyes focused outwards, so they spend more time fighting Jedi, Imperial Remnants, and Mandalorians than getting any ideas on me."​

​

Srina Talon​

 

[Srina Talon]

| J U T R A N D |
| Palace |
x
Tag: Darth Empyrean
_________________________________________________________​

Just because they didn't need to say certain things didn't mean that she didn't feel compelled to. Her lack of expression had oft led to miscommunications in the past. Strangely, Maliphant had always saw through it. It shouldn't surprise her that Empyrean did as well. She could feel his every thought. His affections had grown from burning flames to ever-present embers. Enough, to warm her eternally. Never wavering, a constant, and steady.

Never enough to burn. Not anymore.

His longing was…Muddled. Confused, between the delves of darkness that roiled from the surface of pallid skin. But still. It was there. Her lips curved just slightly at the over-exaggerated sigh and for a moment she could think of this as a simple business deal. The likes of when he wore that detestable mask Dorian or when he'd been striking out on his own. "Ah…Taxes. I hear they never die."

Not that she really understood that part. Srina grasped basic numerical concepts, however, managing economic structure across an entire nation was beyond her. The Confederacy had always depended on the Minister of Commerce or a Mistress of Coin to put things into motion. The budgets she proposed had always been frugal but fair. In that regard—The Confederacy had excelled. Making credits had been easy when most of the galaxy seemed to be purchasing their goods hand over fist.

This was a little different. The notion of slavery, still, caused her to roll her eyes heavenward.

It was one of the few concepts she could not agree with. No matter, how smooth and painless Darth Carnifex made his decraniated servants seem. There was something about it that made her sneer in disgust. How could a Sith hope to stand on their own when they could barely manage to kneel while using the backs of slaves as a cushion. It was preposterous. "If they're worried about labor, they should know that general costs to the government go down and productivity rises when men aren't trapped in a yoke. Paid a fair wage. The Sith Order can more than afford it."

It was a debate that the CIS and even the Ascendancy had poured over. Again, and again.

Srina had always held the same stance.

She did perk up a little bit at the concept of a droid army. That at the very least felt very familiar. Using clones was always touch and go but the expansion into Korriban was something she remained rather unconcerned with. If Carnifex claimed he could bring the region to heel under their control—He would. Despite the fact that they rather loathed each other. "The eyes of the Sith are all prone to…Wander."

"They want what they cannot have. Your crown will always be coveted…Though warmongering may distract them for a time."

For a time.

Eventually, they decided that the Sith could be led better. By stronger, smarter, Sith. Not realizing that they were self-perpetuating their own demise… The Sith kept themselves in check.

Not the Jedi.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"The Crown, among other things.", he said, offering her a wry and sideways glance.​

​

"Had any more suitors try and steal you away from me lately?", he asked as they moved about the palace to side chambers, privately guarded and kept clear for the Emperor's express movement through the structure. With security as tight as it was, these halls were very unlikely to be used by intruders - but should such an event occur, the essence of the Force within them, draining from nearby statues, kept it all but inhospitable to those outside of his voidal sphere, something she would notice around them, protecting them.​

​

"As far as Slavery - you know my stance on such.", clear of an opinion as he could make.​

​

For all the crimes and evil Empyrean was known to commit, Slavery was not one of them. His childhood, the death of his mother he bore witness to, so many things came from it that he would not allow it to occur under his reign. The fact Carnifex did it at all disgusted him to no end - and perhaps was one of the many reasons he could barely stand the Twice-Emperor.​

​

"My more pragmatic self has explained to them in no uncertain terms, however, that slaves are a Jedi's bread and butter. By creating them, we sow dissent in our ranks from the foundation - Jedi would create terrorist cells in their numbers instantly and it would spread. I'd not build our Empire on a rocky foundation like that - especially when they no doubt rose to fight us at the most inopportune time."​

​

Srina Talon​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean
______________________________________________________​

She almost missed it.

A flicker of his former self, even though, it was only present for a moment. Srina didn't respond for a moment but eventually glanced toward her husband with quiet eyes and an upraised eyebrow. There was a touch of coquettish challenge there, though, he was well aware of her eccentric sense of humor. Or rather…Her attempts at it. "Why do you ask, meldanya?" (*beloved)

"…Is the Emperor jealous?"

The tone she took was a svelte mix between serious and deliciously sarcastic. Whether or not someone had mistakenly sought her affections was irrelevant. It was an occurrence that happened more often than she drew breath, especially, since returning from post-partum. Srina never gave the names of those she suspected because she also suspected they might find a very mysterious and unfortunate end in the dead of night. Even though Empyrean full well knew that she would never entertain it, it was the principle of the matter, her honor, rather than the deed.

The sphere that wrapped around them, keeping them safe, felt quite like him. It was different than the dark embrace of his abilities that she had long ago learned to take comfort in—but it was him all the same. His power seemed to blend and thread with her own in a way that occasionally left her feeling a touch of melancholy. It wasn't new, but it was new to have a word for it. Though their relationship had moved beyond the traditional…There was a cruel wanting. Paradise, future, denied.

So many promises, unintentionally, unfortunately shattered.

It led her to hold his arm just a little closer for a moment. He believed in her, even, when she felt like she had nothing left. He believed she could do what was required, that she was unbreakable, indomitable, and so she was. So, she would be. For her Husband, for her children—For the Order.

Even if her heart was always...
​

Her head shook and she drew herself out of her thoughts to return to the current conversation. They both knew how the other thought on slavery and it occurred to her that she could need to educate their younglings when they came of age on the value of personal freedoms. For the time being…They were small enough that she could keep them in the dark about galactic injustices. Srina had learned to care for the whole, versus the sum of its parts, and in that vein, she was able to…Compartmentalize.

It was a bloody game.

"Can we not simply…Implement it slowly if we haven't already? Gradual change might be easier to accept when they see for themselves the benefit. Old minds can require…Old methods to accept modern change.", she responded lightly, rather reasonably, in light of far more militant mindsets. It was a difficult line to tread. For the Sith to deny one of their most time-honored traditions…Would some even call them Sith? Srina didn't mind. Others would.

The inherent power of keeping someone else down could be intoxicating for a populace that could draw strength from the associated fear and terror that came with it. Her moniker as the Dread Queen meant that she intimately knew the greatness of fear. It also meant that she knew how to draw on it without a direct south. Afterall, the entire known galaxy was afraid.

"Have lunch with me when this is through?"

Lunch.

Such a strange, pedestrian concept. Especially with his current…State. It was just as strange as casually asking her husband on a date as if she half expected him to decline. Somehow—She still felt as awkward in asking for things she wanted as she ever had. The whole of Jutrand would bring her anything she desired without asking…But she felt like a youngling asking for his time.

______________________________________________________

​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"Lunch?", he asked with a bit of bemusement. He could feel her apprehension in asking - and on some level, he returned it. He no longer could eat or drink, quite literally it simply went through him. More often than not if he remained, it rotted, and the corpse god began to smell as his name befit. He spent enough time as is ensuring he never smelled worse than was required of a walking dead man.​

​

"Of course.", he offered, a tinge of a smile crossing his dead features, "I won't deny you any request. I may have to skip 'eating', however. Would you have it delivered up to my quarters, yours perhaps?", he mused as they continued.​

​

"As far as Jealousy, no. For all my emotions, jealousy would require I doubt you dedication and love - neither of which are in question. Insulted, now that may be closer to the truth - I enjoy the thought of killing those who disrespect me, and more over, disrespect you with implicit doubt.", he beamed - his expression meaning to be playful, but his horrid features making it look all the more terrifying - like a wolf from mythology, skin dripping from an exposed bone.​

​

"The Council begs me for this and that - and I give where I feel I can give, and take where I feel I can take. Slavery is... not one of those things I will give. I'd not waste our youth's potential in chains, and I'd not suffer them to learn where once I came only to send them towards. I am cruel, a monster perhaps, but I will not be a hypocrite in this manner."​

​

Srina Talon​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean
______________________________________________________​

She nodded her head without looking up at her husband.

He would feel the uncertainty in her and the slightest edge of heat on her face. It didn't matter that he denied her very rarely. It didn't matter that he never made fun of her lack of social graces even when he likely should. Dead or alive…He made her stumble. It took an insurmountable amount of will not to let her shoulders fall in relief at the acceptance. There was an inherent vulnerability there that no one else would ever know…Only him.

Srina looked up in time to catch the faint smile that touched his decrepit features. It was small. Most people probably wouldn't even see it. She did—And that was enough.

"I assumed it might be a little one-sided…But perhaps to your quarters?"

Often—She had slept there when time permitted. The linens were changed every day whether they had been used or not. There would be random possessions of hers dotted among his things, spare robes, soft pearl-handled hair brushes, and ornamental ties. Regardless…He didn't seem to use the bed very often and it was one way she could remain in his sphere without disrupting his evening. Her quarters were perfectly serviceable but sleeping alone on Jutrand felt very strange. She felt…safe beneath his watchful eye, even if, his mind was elsewhere. She hadn't felt that in months. All the things she had taken for granted, before, were glaringly apparent now. "The Sepulcher are likely haunting my doorway. They'll want to know where I've been."

They had suspicions. A lot of people, fair and foul, had suspicions but none had tangible proof.

A soft and airy laugh escaped her when he began to explain away her unfortunate attempt at comedy. Srina had just started trying it more before Odavessa. It was still...Rusty. "I was only teasing, meldanya."

The warmth of humor in her carried through his explanation and into the playful expression that followed. Many would have likely run in fear from the Eternal Emperor seeming so pleased with something that emphasized his ghoulish features even more… But she saw the man behind rot and bones. His charming petulance, and wit, would never truly leave him.

"Cruel though you may be…You are mine. My monster. My love…And I do so enjoy watching you make the Council squirm like children."

Her hand remained where it was, soft, to his covered arm. Srina was proud of him for holding court without devolving to blowing them all away every time they challenged his word. It was the nature of any appointed cabinet to discuss things until the following dawn but these individuals had turned it into an art form. It didn't help that she approved of the standpoint.

There were very few things she relied on politics for, but this ruling was one of them. She couldn't solve the notion of slavery with her swords and sabers or there wouldn't be anyone left in the Sith Order. It was such a pervading aspect of their culture that it seemed to drive dissenters mad with rage that they would dare eliminate a "free" workforce. Srina fell silent and her expression wiped clean from emotion while they passed into the meeting…Perhaps a few minutes late.

There were immediate whispers.

The Lady Sith of the Emperor's chosen had returned and seemingly within his good graces.

Such a delicious scandal.

______________________________________________________

​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The meeting was trite and boring, as men too rich for their efforts sallied forth to nigh on demand his blessing in whatever business venture they sought. Some spoke directly to the Councillor of Labor, a greedy old woman who steepled crooked fingers covered in blotched skin before her. Every time she smiled, Empyrean grit his teeth - she disgusted him with her greed. Not because she had a good business acumen, but because he had gotten reports of her efforts in organizing political blocs directly in favor of slavery.​

​

Were it so simple as to cut her head from that aging, decrepit body, he would have done so; but she held a tangible portion of the Sith's banking economy under her control. Were he free of the Worm, free of its disgusting strength and the death handed to him by the Jedi, he would have bullied her from her place with his own wealth. Instead, he had spent much of it to create this Empire; bank rolling it on his own back, and he had yet to see returns with the nigh on constant war. His own benefit was that he still owned the largest weapons manufacturing company in the Galaxy; so at least he was making a profit in that regard.​

​

And yet, business had become such a minor thing in his mind over the years - the Empire, the Sith, the Sepulchral, the Worm, and his family had taken over his entire being. He was a man built for something he no longer could touch upon; so instead he simply thought about it all, fought to build something for those passed on. Someone would appreciate what he built today; he only hoped he could seal away or kill the Worm before his time came, before his will and anger bled dry.​

​

And yet, the sadness he felt for not meeting his own children in person had grown to a new strength. A sadness so absolute not even the Worm could tear it from him. An emotion far from the pride, the anger, the passion of his people; but the devastating realization that it was all for nothing. He had once read of Sith who had come to that realization in time; that for all their efforts, they found themselves stuck somewhere along their road and pushed aside. He had fought for strength for so long, and only for it to fall apart when he needed it most.​

​

At the very apex of his being, the last hurdle to overcome; and he was killed. All the things he had wanted to accomplish, the things he wanted to teach his children; and how he had to spend the greatest years he dreamed of fighting to survive in a body that threatened to rot at the nearest slip of his attention, an Empire that would kill twice were it so possible, and a government of sycophants who kissed at his feet only to drive a dagger into his back.​

​

Disgusting things. Was he even a Sith anymore? It was hard to say; he wasn't sure if the philosophy he held to for so long was truly as great as it should have been. It led him to power, surely, but what had that power done to him in the end? Made him a target, ruined his chances at a better life. Were he only able to abandon his endless ambition once upon a time... perhaps now he could be something more.​

​

Ironic, he thought, that his ambition to be the greatest would be realized in such a way that would destroy him.​

​

When the meeting was done, the chamber was emptied - some trying to stay longer to see Srina seperated from the Emperor; and yet a simple press of his power forced their departure early. Their fear of him went much further than their hatred of her; the wall that protected Empyrean, the most hated man in the Empire he built. Within him was the jail cell of their true lord, and yet they'd never meet with him again if either of them had a say in it.​

​

They returned to his chambers, a full buffet set out for her - cooked very similarly to Maliphant's own style once upon a time. All of her favorite meals, wine set aside, everything luxury and an empire backing it could afford her. Empyrean found a seat nearby, allowing a small hologram of various reports to fill his vision - wars on distant worlds, executions of criminals he should be made aware of, and the movements of Jedi near the Corporate Sector.​

​

"I plan on bringing war to Carnifex's doorstep, my love. I intend for the Kainite to take the brunt of the Jedi's initial armies; perhaps even see them broken. Were the Twice-Emperor to lose the Malsheem, it may even benefit us. Those points aside, he seems to agree; much the same as I, he intends to throw unruly Sith to the front line to see them dead first. How do you feel about this?"​

​

Srina Talon​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Empyrean
______________________________________________________​

The contemplations of her husband echoed in the quiet recesses of his luxurious chambers as Srina silently absorbed the weight of his thoughts. The meeting had gone as anticipated but the wicked, craven eyes, that visually dug into the meat of her spine left a bitter taste. The inherent avarice of the Councilor of Labor and her political machinations in favor of slavery had ignited a flame of disdain within Empyrean.

As he spoke, Srina remained a silent observer, her gaze unwavering. The opulence of his resting chamber contrasted sharply with the somber undercurrents of their conversation, a reminder of the complexities that shrouded their positions. She understood what it was like to hold back when she felt the need to act and the wintry Echani didn't have a Worm God whispering evil little lies in her ear. She wished…That she could bring her beloved some measure of comfort.

Anything.

His burdens were her own. She could feel him reflecting on the Order, the Worm, their children, and it cast a shadow on the feast that had been prepared. The slender Echani could never have eaten everything that the domestic staff and procured but she wouldn't see it wasted. Everything she didn't consume or touch could be saved and redistributed. Golden eyes noted that some of her favorite dishes had been prepared and that there was a wealth of chocolate.

Someone had slipped the staff her weaknesses, it seemed.

Srina did not vocalize any counterpoints during the meeting itself and merely remained in his chair while Empyrean took sentinel at her side. It was a display of solidarity amongst vultures. The weight of his responsibilities and the elusive pursuit of his goals had clearly taken a toll. His silent, perhaps, fleeting yearning for the children she had bore him was on the tip of her heart. The fact that he had yet to meet Soldane or Luna in person resonated in the air. A poignant thread, woven, and unraveling in his tapestry of ambitions. Her gaze flickered up from the table.

"They are safe, beloved. I swear it."

The burdens that he carried were far more than that. They held the keys to a veritable Empire that was fraught with challenges, but none came so close to home, as the loss of what should have been a joyous occasion. Their babies were star systems apart from those that would move heaven and earth for them…But it didn't change how they felt. Loving them, needing then, in this endless chaos that always surrounded their every move.

The Labor Councilwoman was a necessary evil. Empyrean had financed the majority of the Sith Order from his own coffers. Not that she knew the depth of them…But she knew it to be true. The Councilor was distasteful but she controlled a significant portion of their banking economy. It was a political strength they could ill-afford to undermine without careful consideration.

Not for the first time—She missed Alessandra Creed . The Confederacy had…Never dealt with this.

Srina circled the room slowly while nibbling at what food struck her fancy. It was all…a touch of nostalgia. She remembered their flat on Geonosis. How…Simple things had been. How he would set something in the oven, set her by the timer, and she would anxiously wait for it to go off. So certain that she would ruin their meal…But Maliphant ensured she never did. He held her up in ways he scarcely seemed to understand. Mended her. Body and soul.

…How very, very much—Did she love his everything.

The air in the room shifted while a comfortable silence broke in the wake of Empyrean's resolve to bring the coming war to the doorstep of Darth Carnifex. She frowned, though, she did not respond immediately. The fork made a clattering noise that caused her to look at him with a familiar tilt of her head. "You know how I feel, meldanya."

War was a ruthless game.

In that regard, her response was measured by thoughtful consideration. It was not her duty to react with how she felt about any scenario in the Sith Order. Empyrean was not asking his wife to betray a dear friend but his Empress to decide what would most benefit their people. Long had she sought unity among their fractured horde. This plan was the movement of a master game maker…Someone who watched them all without thought to individual value—But how they could be used.

Moved across the board. Sacrificed, for the victory.

"You know that I fully understand the necessity of strategy and the sacrifice…But we must tread carefully with the Kainite. They are a valuable asset and while the notion of your vassal state absorbing the initial onslaught is pragmatic…We must also ensure that they are not pushed to the point of irreparable damage.", the dulcet tones of the wintry woman carried throughout the room with a distinct sense of calming serenity. It was as if they weren't casually discussing the sacrifice of their own people. Putting…Measure on the lives of those who looked to the Oder for guidance and protection. Srina had taken the role that he asked of her seriously, regardless, what the Sepulcher thought.

The Sith Order was made up of her children—Just as much as those she hid away on Cularin.

"The Twice-Emperor losing the Malsheem would indeed create opportunities but I highly doubt we would be the benefactors. We must anticipate the potential consequences of such a scenario and a blow to the Kainite is a blow to the Sith Order. The delicate balance of power among us needs to be maintained. If the Kainite are bent and broken it will leave vulnerabilities that our enemies will exploit on all sides. Light and Dark."

"As for the unruly Sith on the frontline…You both should know better. I understand the desire to cull those who pose a threat but we must be mindful not to lose potential allies in the process. Some may yet prove useful with proper guidance and control. It is a delicate dance, my beloved, between asserting dominance and preserving the strength of our own forces.", she leaned back in the high-backed chair and eyed the wine that sat, quite tempting, on the edge of the table. As a point of fact…Srina next to never imbibed liquor at all. She didn't like it when her senses dulled. Golden eyes swept across the table and landed on the Corpse King with…Endless understanding. Some might be upset that he had nonchalantly asked that she harm someone she cared for. Most of them were not the wife of one of the strongest beings in the galaxy. Most of them—Would never be able to fathom the pressures of willingly being trapped between twin black holes. "Prepare Kaine and urge him to prepare his people. Give him any necessary tools to defend the holy worlds, to raise morale, and deny the Jedi their objective."

"The Kainite, the Sith, and even this Covenant…They are all pieces on a galactic chessboard that we control. Even the Tsis'Kaar once served a purpose, though, pawn places them a little too highly. Let us ensure that every move we make serves not only our immediate objectives…But a future that must find the strength and stability to endure. If we waste our young…We have lost."

She regarded Empyrean with a gaze that conveyed both understanding and a readiness to navigate the complexities of any impending conflict. Her perspective was unique, one, that added a layer of caution and foresight. She always thought ahead. It was never about the current war, the current battle, but the one that would come after.

And the one that came after that.

Srina came at the issue with a reminder. Victory in one singular arena wasn't only about triumph. About conquering the enemies. It was about preserving the long-term strength of the Sith they sought to lead.

This was their greatest task.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"The young will survive, fear not, my beloved.", he dismissed with a light tone, glancing towards the window as his still mortal hand supported his chin.​

​

"Kaine is aware of what is coming. We have plans in place to reduce casualities on our side, spreading plague within the Alliance, and dragging out the conflict so that they will lose more in the effort to stop it than anything else. Add on their coming war with the Mandalorians, and they are sticking their neck out to be cut.", he offered.​

​

"It is the most sensible move to push towards them now - but you know as well as I that when Sith begin to plot, they plot towards the top. I don't intend to kill the young, but the most dangerous should be dealt with sooner. Those that can't be made to understand. Those that only see a throne to strive for, and nothing else.", he idled.​

​

"A balance is only necessary when we are in control - anything less than what we have now only forces us to look internally more and more, incase another Pale Assassin rises up to hold a knife to our neck."​

​

Srina Talon​