Faction [SO] Heed the Storm — Arrival of Darth Nethyra

[Nyxira Valis]

The storm roared to life over Dromund Kaas, shattering the humid stillness that had cloaked the ancient capital of the Sith. The skies churned with dark, malevolent clouds, laced with flashes of crimson lightning that painted the landscape in an unholy glow. The air itself seemed to thrum with an unnatural energy, heavy and oppressive, a warning to all who dared to look skyward.

From the heavens, a sleek black shuttle sliced through the chaos, its surface gleaming like obsidian against the storm's fury. Its engines hummed with a low, ominous power as it descended to the landing platform, coming to rest with a calculated precision that mirrored the one who commanded it. The ramp lowered with a hiss, releasing a wave of chilled air that carried the faint tang of ozone and something darker — something ancient.

And then she appeared.

Darth Nythera, shrouded in the shadows of her past and the storm she commanded, stepped into view. Her tall, imposing figure moved with a predatory grace, her violet eyes glowing like twin stars against the gloom. Each step echoed on the durasteel platform, a drumbeat heralding the return of one long thought lost. Her raven-black hair framed her flawless face, illuminated briefly by the crackling lightning above. The dark, intricate lines of her attire seemed to pulse faintly with life, Sith runes etched into the fabric glowing in time with the storm's rhythm.

She paused at the base of the ramp, her gaze sweeping the scene before her. There was no fear in her, no hesitation — only cold, calculated curiosity. She had been gone for decades, and now, she had returned.

Her lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile, one that promised both power and danger. "Well then," she said, her voice carrying over the thunder, low and smooth like the storm's own whisper.

"Much has changed."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.

---

The storm's fury battered the landing platform, its relentless winds whipping against the crimson banners of the Sith Empire that lined the perimeter. Reicher Vax stood stoically at his post, the rain cascading off his armor, streaking the dark plating with rivulets of water. The crimson glow of his visor reflected the flashing lightning, a stark contrast to the muted steel of the platform and the ominous black shuttle that had just descended.

The air was electric—not just with the storm, but with something deeper, something that sank into Reicher's very bones. He gripped the hilt of his vibroblade instinctively, though he made no move to draw it. The energy in the air wasn't just atmospheric; it was a power that demanded deference, a presence that dwarfed the storm itself.

The shuttle's ramp descended, releasing a hiss of pressurized air that seemed to silence the storm momentarily. Reicher's posture stiffened as he stood at attention, his training overcoming the unease gnawing at the edges of his mind.

And then she stepped out.

Darth Nythera, or a figure resembling her.

Reicher had heard the name whispered in the barracks, in hushed tones and half-believed stories. A Sith Lord who had vanished decades ago, her name had become something of a legend among the ranks—a cautionary tale of power and ambition, of mastery and the unknown. And now, here she was, stepping down the ramp as if she had never been gone, as if the storm itself bent to her will.

Her violet eyes swept over the platform, locking briefly onto Reicher before moving on. In that single glance, he felt the weight of her gaze—cold, calculating, and utterly dismissive. Yet there was something in her expression, a faint glimmer of amusement or curiosity, that lingered as she stepped onto the platform. He could hear the words she spoke, as if they moved with the tempest itself.

Much has changed, yet this was a horrid posting even back in the days of Revan and Malak.

"Legionnaire," came the sharp voice of his commanding officer over the comlink, breaking Reicher's trance.

"Understood," Reicher replied, his voice steady despite the storm that roared around him. He moved forward with purpose, his boots clanging against the wet durasteel as he approached the Sith Lord.

Reicher stopped a respectful distance away and bowed slightly, as protocol demanded. "My Lord," he said, his voice calm but respectful. "Welcome back to Dromund Kaas."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Attire: Casual
Equipment: Vibrosword, daggers, blaster pistol
Tag: Nyxira Valis | Reicher Vax

Visiting Dromund Kaas had been on the list of worlds that Eira needed to visit as part of her desires to understand the lore of the Sith. Eira arrived on the world, stretching her limbs after the long travel from Jutrand to the stormy world. Part of her interest in Dromund Kaas was the history of the weather being changed by a particularly powerful use of Force Lightning. Eira was not sure how strong the validity of the story it is. If there was a chance it was true, then she needed to study the power that was used to do it. Lightning was the fundamental power of Eira, being able to change the atmosphere forever on a world, that was the upper limits of her power that she wished to achieve.

It was also a chance for Eira to organise herself after the ordeal that had been the dance on Korriban. This was a chance for her to work on what she wanted to do next. The academy was something she was growing in strength slowly, no longer in the lowest rank, there was a chance for her to continue rising. But Eira needed to plan what she was going to after the academy. After her time there was finished.

Breathing in the air deeply, she figured the best place to begin her research would be in the library that would be available to her. She strutted her way around the platform where her ship had landed, she was on a mission as she walked the place. Her pace was only disrupted when she spotted a face, one she did not recognise but an aura that demanded respect and authority. Eira could not help but be intrigued. Walking over to the Sith, she coughed to draw attention to herself.

"Greetings. I am Eira Dyn."

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Nyxira Valis Reicher Vax Eira Dyn

The foretold return of a Sith Lord had demanded the attention of the Saaraishash. With the arrival of such a powerful figure who was long-separated from the fold at one of the Holy Worlds necessitating the following of certain procedures to ensure security.

Especially for a Sith Lord as dangerous and unknowable as Darth Nethryra.

A roaring storm heralded her presence, an intensification of the Dromund Kaas’ normal storms that saw the air thickly-charged with dark side-amplified electromagnetic potential. Static electricity caused Phaelissia’s shoulder-length blonde hair to nearly stand on end. Fortunately, she quickly smoothed her hair back down, before removing the excess electromagnetism with a series of tiny, controlled discharges from the electricity projectors implanted inside her fingers, immediately canceling the charge via equal and opposite effect.

As the shuttle touched down on the platform, Phaelissia instinctively charged her weaponized implants, priming them to activate at a moments’ notice. Her eyes immediately took on a faint cerulean glow, manifesting a gaze that could freeze a being with little more than a stare.

And yet, if all of the rumors were to be believed, such a capability might not even approach the magnitude of power commanded by Darth Nethryra.

The Sith emerged from the hissing smoke of the landing hydraulics only a few moments later. However, her eyes were visible long before that—a searing, purple-hued gaze that drew across all gathered on the ramp with restrained fury. Although Phaelissia remained visibly unfazed, her long, pointed ears gave a very slight anxious twitch, revealing a hint of fear and unease in the Sith Lord’s presence.

And it was a presence that immediately commanded the space and perhaps, beyond. Phaelissia found herself compelled to stare up at an imposing, statuesque figure that exhibited equal parts regality and lethality. From obsidian-painted lips came a low, husky register that seemed to momentarily silence the raging storm, causing the Aetharian to briefly cast her glance up towards the sky, curiosity and awe evident in her gaze.

From there, Phaelissia allowed the others to present themselves before the Sith Lord. She immediately recognized Eira Dyn among them, to whom she directed a friendly sidelong glance. However, the other—a trooper clad in black and red armor—merited only a brief stare.

For the moment, Phaelissia elected to remain where she stood. She would not rob Eira of the opportunity to connect with a powerful Sith Lord who she might soon learn from.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • FAE/A-07 Energized Neck Piece
    
    • FAE/S-12 “Dream Sight” Combat Sensor System Mk. II
      
      • Updated Version
    • FAE/S-11 Universal Communication Matrix
      
      • Replacement for C-3a “Mercury” Communications Suite
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
      • Replacement for B-11 “Gretis” Class Combat Boots
• Freezing Fates
• Purifying Lash

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's violet gaze swept over the gathering that had formed in the wake of her arrival, each figure a piece of the intricate game she had begun to play. The storm above continued to rage, lightning crackling in erratic bursts as though echoing her thoughts. Her tall, imposing figure remained still, a statue of control amidst the chaos, but her mind churned with calculations.

The first to address her was the armored figure of Reicher Vax , his voice steady and respectful despite the oppressive weight of her presence. His words carried the tone of a soldier—disciplined, prepared, and careful. She regarded him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Legionnaire," she replied, her voice low and smooth, carrying an edge of authority. "Your discipline does you credit. But tell me this — where is this world's Master? Is Dromund Kaas ruled from the shadows now, or has your lord chosen to remain silent in the face of my arrival?"

Her words hung in the charged air, daring a response, before she turned her gaze to the second figure approaching her. The younger woman introduced herself as Eira Dyn , her curiosity evident in her confident stride. Nyxira's piercing eyes studied her for a moment, noting the faint flicker of ambition in her aura. Eira's boldness intrigued her — enough to warrant a response.

"Eira Dyn," Nyxira said, her lips curving faintly into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You carry yourself well."

Finally, her gaze fell on the blonde-haired woman standing back from the others, her glowing cerulean eyes betraying a faint tension despite her composed demeanor. Nyxira recognized her type immediately — disciplined, calculated, a blade held in reserve. She allowed her smirk to linger as she watched for a moment..

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. "Is this how the throne of Dromund Kaas defends its seat? Allowing a ghost of the past to walk into its heart unchallenged? Or does your ruler believe he has nothing to fear from me?"

The storm seemed to rumble in agreement as Nyxira turned her gaze back toward the distant spires of Kaas City, her presence growing heavier with every passing moment. She knew she was bold to openly question a planet's ruler, but she welcomed these challenges and she loved the conflict.

A king who does not bleed, does not deserve to rule, and it was his time to bleed or die.

Reicher Vax Eira Dyn Phaelissia | Open​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

"He does as he always has; claim a vacated throne as his own, assert his dominance for all of a day, and fade to the shadows to be forgotten. It was how he lead the Sith Empire when his better decided there was no reason to rule any longer. A shame it's the same as always." As if she was going to miss this. Alina stood to the side, a half smile on her face as she watched this returned Sith stride so confidently on this world. Once, she herself had ruled Dromund Kaas, but she proved to be a lazy, poor leader and left.

Unsurprising that a dredge from the past returned to cling to glories long lost to time.

A new age needed new blood, new leadership. New power. So, why wouldn't she be here to offer her assistance? Alina smiled her fanged smile to the Sith Lord, sweet and kind at that. Should this Sith prove worth it, Alina would support them wholeheartedly.

Nyxira Valis | Reicher Vax | Eira Dyn | Phaelissia

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Nyxira Valis Reicher Vax Eira Dyn Alina Tremiru

Phaelissia took a cautious step forward as Darth Nythera responded to the Legionnaire and thereafter, the acolyte. It was only after they were addressed that the Sith briefly shifted her gaze to Phaelissia, a lingering smirk on her onyx-painted lips before her eyes suddenly narrowed, her expression taking on a more ruthless set in the process.

Her eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. "Is this how the throne of Dromund Kaas defends its seat? Allowing a ghost of the past to walk into its heart unchallenged? Or does your ruler believe he has nothing to fear from me?"

Phaelissia gave a polite, yet shallow bow, executed with care to avoid displaying excessive deference. Then, only after rising back to her full height and taking off her face mask, did the Aetharian speak.

“The Master of this world is Darth Prazutis.” Phaelissia answered in a soft, disciplined tone. She turned then, her pointed ears twitching with stimulation as another spoke up from the side. There, she caught sight of a pale feminine figure with a piercing, scarlet-hued gaze and an easy half-smile struck across her pale features.

Phaelissia’s features briefly tensed and twitched in response to the woman’s words. However, for the moment, the short-statured Cipher agent saw little value or wisdom in attempting to counter the assertion.

The Sith would speak and act as their wills compelled them to. It was Phaelissia’s place to serve them, unless directed otherwise.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • FAE/A-07 Energized Neck Piece
    
    • FAE/S-12 “Dream Sight” Combat Sensor System Mk. II
      
      • Updated Version
    • FAE/S-11 Universal Communication Matrix
      
      • Replacement for C-3a “Mercury” Communications Suite
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
      • Replacement for B-11 “Gretis” Class Combat Boots
• Freezing Fates
• Purifying Lash

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Nyxira Valis Alina Tremiru Phaelissia Eira Dyn

Reicher held his ground as Darth Nythera's words sliced through the storm like the crimson edge of a lightsaber. Her voice carried an unyielding authority, the kind that left even the most hardened soldiers questioning their resolve. Yet he stood firm, his armor streaked with rain but his posture unbroken. She demanded a response, and he would not falter. He would allow the others to speak first, as was custom.

"My Lord," he began, his tone steady and deliberate. "Dromund Kaas never operated under a unified leader. Any claim for governor is always overturned by someone stronger. The chaos within the Empire has fractured what once was. All the different creeds of Sith and their puppets play threats and division, and those of us who still follow the traditions of the Sith Legion... and whatever that supposed Stormtrooper Core is, we hold the line as best we can."

His words carried no bitterness, only the blunt truth of a soldier too accustomed to the shifting tides of power. He tilted his head slightly, his visor reflecting a brief flash of lightning as he continued.

"Our former masters may play at politics, but the Legion remembers its purpose. We defend, we hold order. If you find this state of affairs lacking, my Lord, you would not be the first to voice that opinion."

He allowed a brief pause, his crimson visor locking with her piercing violet eyes. "But perhaps your arrival signals something more. A new claim. A challenge to the weak. If that is the case, my Lord, then I suspect Dromund Kaas will soon feel the weight of your resolve."

There was no mockery in his voice, no attempt to provoke. His words were measured, respectful, but unapologetic. Reicher was a soldier, and soldiers dealt in realities, not aspirations. Whatever Darth Nythera's intentions, he had no doubt that her presence heralded a shift in the tenuous balance of power.

He pulled his datapad and quickly opened a file, offering it to Darth Nythera. "My Lord, this datapad had online records of all recent history known to the galaxy at large. If you need a filler, I can send you the Hololink."

He knew of the other important figures that had heard the news, or had felt something in the Force, deciding to come to this wet, awful landing pad, but he maintained his professionalism. Now was not the time to making an enemy out of anyone.

With his piece spoken, Reicher straightened further, awaiting her response. The storm continued to roar around them, but the true tempest was only just beginning.

​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The skies turned black.

The magic of the sorceress was deep twisting the natural flow of weather as they shuddered and heaved, sparks of lightning dancing amidst the darkness. It churned unfettered, unrestricted power that poured across the cityscape growing deeper, longer with every passing moment. However, something seemed to happen that those below it may not expect. While the city remained exposed to its power all around the Imperial Palace the area remained calm. It was so unnaturally calm that its very presence seemed to chill the blood, not one cloud breached a perimeter around it. It was almost as if whatever lurked within was some sort of great destructive eye the swirling turbulence roaming around it but never crossing it. ​

​

Out of the darkness it came.​

​

A sleek shuttle of gray steel swept gracefully across the skyline flanked by a pair of fighters. All surrounding traffic afforded it a wide berth, parting to allow it swift access to its destination. The shuttle leading the way bore a symbol in deep crimson on the ventral hull of the craft. It descended a short distance away from the Sorceress, hydralic air hissing loudly as the landing gear touched down with the surface. A landing ramp descended slowly to the surface revealing a figure standing within. Whatever this figure was it was not readily apparent. Its mind a steel trap shielding it from the force while its face? Its entire body was covered in a set of high collared crimson robes. The figure wore matching gloves and a large helm a curved set of black glass covered most of the front. The figure emerged from the ship and moved to stand roughly fifteen feet away from the sorceress. ​

​

"Greetings Lady Nyxira, my liege bids you welcome back to Dromund Kaas. He has invited you to an audience with him, I am to bring you before him." The figures voice was a deep rumbling mix between a baritone growl and something mechanical. It bowed respectfully before the woman and stepped to the side of the docking ramp as if he was waiting for her.​

​

​

Nyxira Valis
​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's violet eyes swept over the gathered individuals, each one a potential piece in the intricate web of her plans. The storm above continued its erratic symphony, but her attention now focused on the interplay of power and ambition displayed before her. Each voice, each presence, offered insight into the fractured state of Dromund Kaas — and the opportunities that lay within.

She began with Reicher Vax , her gaze narrowing slightly as his calm, measured words carried over the storm's roar. He spoke not as a sycophant, but as a soldier accustomed to navigating the chaos of a crumbling empire. His truth was blunt, and for that, she afforded him a measure of respect. When he offered the datapad, she extended a hand, accepting it without breaking eye contact.

"A soldier who understands the value of order," she said, her tone smooth, though her words carried weight. "You and I will speak later, Legionnaire. Alone."

To Phaelissia , who had offered her answer with disciplined poise, Nyxira offered a faint nod. "Darth Prazutis," she repeated, the name a sharp blade on her tongue. "I see. And what role do you play in his empire, I wonder?" Her gaze lingered briefly before moving on, her curiosity about the Aetharian tucked away for later.

Finally, Alina Tremiru 's voice cut through the storm, carrying a sardonic edge that drew Nyxira's attention like a blade glinting in the dark. The former ruler's words spoke of disdain for the current state of affairs, and Nyxira's smirk deepened as she regarded her. "The past may be a ghost, but it still holds power," she replied. "Perhaps, Alina, you can help me tear it down."

The arrival of Prazutis's emissary drew her focus at last. The figure's mechanical voice and cloaked presence carried an air of theatricality, though Nyxira suspected it was meant to intimidate. She listened to the invitation without interruption, her expression unreadable.

After a beat, she inclined her head slightly, her voice smooth but laced with quiet authority. "Very well. Lead the way."

Turning, she began to follow the crimson-clad figure, her presence commanding even as she deferred for the moment. But as she moved, she cast a final glance over her shoulder at those gathered, her eyes locking briefly with Reicher's and Alina's.

The storm rumbled above, its fury a reflection of the calculated storm brewing within her. The game had begun, and she intended to play it well.

Reicher Vax Phaelissia Alina Tremiru Darth Prazutis | Open​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Once the Sorceress stepped the shuttle, the Emissary followed a respectable distance behind vanishing within the hull of the ship. The landing ramp retracted just as swiftly as it descended a short time prior. The glow of engines and burning thrusters flared cutting through the blackness of encroaching shadows, and the shuttle began to rise high into the sky. The interior of the ship was entirely empty, a door separating the cockpit was shut at the far end. The crimson robed figure merely stood off to one side its face locked forward as silence devoured them both. The shuttle gracefully moved forward back towards the sprawling metropolis of New Kaas City. Despite the voice of the Emissary mere moments before it wasn't clear whether it was an actual person or some sort of mechanical amalgamation. Its movements weren't entirely human and from the figure came mysterious clicks, breathing noises and mechanical whirs.

The fighter escort that had remained in the air circled back around and took its place behind the craft guiding it across the bustling skyways. Despite the heavy storm above it seemed the denizens of this world were accustomed to such displays on their world and their lives had long since adapted to it. The city was a shining bastion of order, the epitome of life underneath the rule of the Sith Order, led by the guiding hand of the Kainate. The ship passed through the turbulence of the storm gathered by the petite woman, passing straight through the boundary where it would dare go no further, surrounding the Sith Citadel of Dromund Kaas. It was very easily single largest structure in existence on Dromund Kaas, it rose like a shining symbol of the glory of the Sith at the apex of New Kaas City. Unlike the ages of the past there was no trench separating it from the rest of the city, it remained the beating heart of this brave new world. A security perimeter and restricted fly zone was set up around the monolithic structure, where only authorized ships were cleared to fly.

The shuttle descended towards a hangar carved into the side of the immense structure, it's escorts separating at the last moment once they passed through and into the citadel. Once more the landing ramp descended slowly unveiling the huge hangar fit to hold several squadrons of fighters, although presently it sat mostly empty. The Emissary stepped towards the ramp and turned towards her then, the first movements it made since they left on their journey "If the Lady could please follow me. I shall guide her eminence to my liege." The Emissary waited for confirmation before descending the ramp and entering into the hangar, cutting a path across towards a hall pressed against the far wall. It passed past an escort of several armed and armored guards, these figures were wrapped in crimson armor and matching cloaks. They were a dominant presence seen at security positions, patrolling up and down hallways, manning checkpoints in vast numbers all throughout the halls of the citadel. They bore many names the Red Guard, Crimson Cloaks, they were the Koshûtaral Sentinels.

The Emissary moved swiftly through the beautiful hallways of black and red, passing statues dedicated to Sith Lords long since gone. An escort of the red guards took up position a distance behind them, and in front of them. They guided their path as they traveled moving anyone in their way aside to give them a clear path towards their destination, which arrived after a short distance. A set of colossal doors flanked on either side by two robed statues. A pair of giants stood vigil over the doors clad in crimson cloaks, beneath them black armor these figures stood like living, unmoving statues clutching staves. The Emissary walked off to the side then and gestured forwards "Lady Nyxira, my liege awaits inside." The doors parted then, revealing what lurks inside and they would shut if she passed through their barrier.

The Throne Room was an absolutely cavernous construct easily dwarfing any other room in the building. Before them was a great hall large enough to fit several hundred people within stretching forward. A massive overhang from the amphitheater above cast a deep, looming shadow over the entrance of the room. All the way at the far end of the chamber sat a dais raised high above the floor of the room, and higher still sat a gigantic throne dominating the far wall. Even at this distance it was clear just how large this seat was, a construct of sleek black stone that seemed slick in the light. This deep within the citadel a strange feeling would rise, and that was a distinct absence. The complete absence or separation from the storm above the city would feel so distinct it could be considered jarring, as if it was cut off or on another plane of existence from the citadel at large.

This deep within the structure an entirely different storm surged. It was a hurricane of malevolence so deep; it felt like one stood at the event horizon of a black hole. A presence of such darkness the shadows lurking at the fringes of the room seemed to take new life and claw themselves off the walls, they churned and boldly invaded the realms of the light. To those attuned to the ways of the force the pressure this storm exuded felt like drowning in the crushing oceanic depths, its strain heard on the room around it. It pressed outwards as the very air seemed to grow thinner with every passing step deeper within the room. All across the hall amidst the silence came faint whispers, distant echoes of screams, cries that faded when focused on. The figure at the center of this storm cast a looming shadow all his own seated atop the towering throne. A living, superhuman giant who looked like he was little more than a statue cut out of stone. The giants muscular form exuded the might of a towering war god, a warlord fit to sunder worlds, drowning them in rivers of blood. The giant was clad in a large set of black robed plate alight with dimly glowing runes cast across its surface, his gauntlet clad fingers turned into claws. A pair of molten eyes blazed outward from within a face devoid of facial hair, clear cut with black hair cut short.

The Dark Lord of the Kainate Darth Prazutis stared at the new arrival, through her. So far, his face was expressionless, apathetic to the new arrival that passed through the doors of the throne room. Nonetheless he watched her so intensely she could almost feel his eyes crawling across her skin, as if he was watching every muscle move when she walked, studying her. "You've made interesting choices in your arrival to Dromund Kaas. You intrigue me, Lady Nyxira. I suspect you will find much has changed, this is not the world you left."

Nyxira Valis





​

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's steps echoed across the vastness of the Throne Room, the weight of her presence pressing against the oppressive air. The storm that had followed her through the halls of the citadel, now absent from this inner sanctum, was replaced by an entirely different force. The very atmosphere seemed to pulse with the dark power emanating from the figure seated upon the towering throne — Darth Prazutis, the leader of this world and one of the Kainite leaders.

She felt the intensity of his gaze as she crossed the threshold, his molten eyes boring into her like a sharp blade. But she did not flinch. Instead, her violet eyes met his, unyielding and direct, as she moved into the chamber with an air of confidence that rivaled his own.

The whispers of the Force danced in her ears, faint cries and distant echoes of suffering, yet none of it fazed her. She had walked through storms far darker than the one that now surrounded Prazutis. Her storm had already begun to break the barriers of this world, and she was prepared for whatever this meeting would bring.

When she reached the center of the room, she stopped, standing tall, her posture regal and commanding. She knew the game they were both playing — and she was not one to be intimidated.

"You are right, Lord Prazutis," Nyxira said, her voice steady, smooth, and unwavering. "This is not the world I left, though it seems little has changed about its rule." Her gaze never wavered from his, her presence a storm in itself, pressing against the dark, unyielding force he exuded. "How long have you kept this throne warm without challenge?"

She moved a step closer, her words carrying the weight of a promise — one built on ambition, strength, and vision. "I do not believe in Kings or Emperors who never bleed, and I refuse to recognize their authority."

"I returned to challenge the complacent, whether I succeed or not."

Darth Prazutis ​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Dromund Kaas
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Nyxira Valis Alina Tremiru Phaelissia Eira Dyn Darth Prazutis

The rain had grown heavier, turning the landing pad into a slick, reflective expanse of puddles and rivulets. Reicher stood at his post, the crimson glow of his visor dimming slightly to reduce glare from the relentless downpour. The other Legionnaires nearby shared in the misery, their armor streaked with water and mud as the storm seemed to mock their discipline.

"Another fine day on Dromund Kaas," Reicher muttered, his voice crackling through the comms. "I hear the locals call this weather 'refreshing.' Refreshing my ass."

One of the other Legionnaires chuckled, his voice laced with fatigue. "Bet the Sith Lords love it. All dramatic, you know? Lightning, thunder… real power-trip kind of vibe. Us? We just get trench foot."

"Trench foot's a small price to pay for the honor of guarding this glorious landing pad," another chimed in, their tone dripping with sarcasm. "Seriously, though, I've been stationed on back in my time, Taris, back when I did merc work. This still doesn't even crack my top five worst places to stand around and get rained on."

Reicher allowed himself a faint smirk, unseen beneath his helmet. "Taris has rats the size of speeders. Here, it's just the occasional Sith Lord dropping in to terrify everyone."

The squad shared a brief, rueful laugh before falling silent again, the weight of their duty pulling them back into focus. Despite the grim conditions, they all knew that jokes and camaraderie were their best defense against the unrelenting pressure of serving in the Sith Empire.

Reicher's thoughts, however, kept drifting back to Darth Nythera. She had been a force of nature, her presence cutting through the storm with more intensity than the lightning overhead. Her words, her gaze—it was clear she had plans, and Reicher couldn't help but wonder why he had caught her attention.

What does she want with me? The thought nagged at him like an itch he couldn't scratch. A Sith Lord's interest was rarely benign, and while he had done his best to present himself as a loyal soldier, he knew his practicality and blunt honesty didn't always sit well with the more ambitious among their ranks.

His hand drifted to his belt, where the datapad he had offered her earlier rested in its pouch. He had given her access to the Empire's fragmented history and recent developments, but would she find his records useful? Or would she see him as another pawn to be moved—or discarded—on her path to power?

"You're quiet, Vax," one of the Legionnaires remarked, breaking the silence. "Thinking about what the Sith lady said?"

Reicher nodded slightly, though the gesture was more for himself than the trooper. "Yeah. Sith Lords like her don't show up just to chat about the weather, less so the good looking ones like her. She's got plans. Big ones, probably. And if we're lucky, we're just the guys standing in the background when they happen."

"And if we're not lucky?" another trooper asked, their tone half-joking but tinged with genuine concern.

Reicher's visor turned toward them, the faint red glow reflecting the storm around them. "If we're not lucky, we're part of her plans. And Sith plans… well, let's just say they rarely leave anyone untouched."

"You know," one of the younger Legionnaires, Tannis, said, kicking a stray piece of debris into a growing puddle, "if I'd known the Empire's idea of glory involved standing in rainstorms on planets that smell like wet duracrete, I might've joined the GADF."

The squad erupted in a mixture of chuckles and groans.

"The GADF?" Another soldier, Karrik, snorted. "Please. You'd last five minutes with their bootlicking officers. 'Yes, sir, I'll die for democracy, sir!' Give me a Sith Lord's temper tantrum any day. At least you know where you stand."

Reicher leaned against a nearby pillar, his arms crossed over his chestplate. "Don't let anyone hear you calling them a tantrum thrower, Karrik. Last guy who said something like that got transferred to Hoth."

"Hoth?" Karrik quipped. "I hear it's lovely this time of year. All frostbite and frozen dinners."

"Better than Taris," Tannis chimed in. "You ever fought rakghouls? I swear, they're uglier than the cantina girls back on Raxus Prime."

"Don't let Vax fool you," the squad medic, Kren, cut in. "He probably has a secret mansion somewhere with all the perks of being the Old Guard's golden boy. They just don't tell us grunts."

Reicher shook his head, the faintest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "If I've got a mansion, it's news to me. Last I checked, I get the same MREs as the rest of you, and my bunk's just as cramped."

"Bet you have better coffee," Kren shot back. "Probably one of those Sith-exclusive blends. Dark roast for the dark side."

"I wish," Reicher deadpanned. "It's more like swamp roast around here. Speaking of which, what do you think Sith Lords even drink? Blood? Poison? Or do you think they're all secretly sipping hot chocolate while plotting galactic domination?"

The squad burst into laughter, their voices rising above the storm for a brief moment. It was rare to find levity in their line of work, but moments like these reminded them that they were still human—still capable of laughing, even in the shadow of the Empire.

Tannis leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Alright, serious question. If you had to pick, which Sith Lord would you want to be stuck with on a deserted planet?"

"Easy," Karrik said, raising his hand. "Darth Malum. Guy's all about discipline and order. He'd probably have us farming potatoes and setting up an irrigation system within a week."

"Nythera," Tannis countered. "Sure, she's terrifying, but you saw her. I'd take my chances with someone who looks that good in the rain."

Reicher tilted his head, his crimson visor giving away nothing. "You're assuming she wouldn't use you as bait to attract predators."

"She'd have to catch me first," Tannis retorted, grinning.

Kren groaned. "You'd trip over your own feet trying to impress her."

"Would not!"

"Would too."

"Alright, Tannis," Kren said, leaning against the pillar near Reicher. "Since you're so confident about surviving Darth Nythera's charm offensive, what's your big plan for getting on her good side?"

Tannis shrugged dramatically, spreading his arms wide. "Easy. I'd offer her my unparalleled loyalty and a lifetime supply of Dromund Kaas's finest ration packs. Who could resist?"

"Yeah," Karrik deadpanned, "because nothing screams romance like 'Here's a damp energy bar and a promise to die on command.' Very compelling."

"Hey, I'd be creative!" Tannis shot back. "I'd write her poetry. You know, something classy. Like, 'Oh Nythera, your saber's red, my armor's black, please don't crush my neck with the Force like a sack.'"

The squad burst into laughter again, even Reicher cracking a rare chuckle. "Tannis," he said, shaking his head, "if she doesn't kill you for that, I'll be impressed."

"Thank you, "sir"," Tannis said with mock seriousness, giving a crisp salute. "I live to serve and to compose terrible poetry."

"I think the real question," Kren cut in, "is what Karrik would do if he were stuck with Darth Malum. Something tells me farming potatoes isn't the whole plan."

"Hey, I'd be useful!" Karrik protested. "The man respects efficiency, and I'm nothing if not efficient."

"Efficient at running your mouth," Tannis muttered under his breath, earning a smirk from the others.

Karrik ignored him. "No, seriously. I'd prove my worth. Set up defenses, scout the terrain, maybe build a small fortress. Sith Lords love fortresses, right? It's like a rule."

"Don't forget the ominous name," Kren added, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "'Fortress Doomspire' or something suitably intimidating."

"'Castle Brooding Darkness,'" Tannis suggested, earning another round of chuckles.

"'The Citadel of Karrik's Endless Ego,'" Reicher quipped, his voice dry.

The squad howled with laughter, Karrik raising his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! At least I'd survive! Unlike Tannis, who'd probably get himself vaporized trying to impress Nythera with his 'poetry.'"

"I'd die a legend," Tannis said with a grin, puffing out his chest dramatically. "They'd sing songs about me in the Mess Hall for years."

"More like they'd use your story as a cautionary tale during training sessions," Kren retorted. "'And this, recruits, is why you don't try to flirt with Sith Lords.'"

The squad's laughter was cut short by a particularly loud crash of thunder, the storm's intensity seeming to swell around them. Reicher straightened slightly, his visor scanning the perimeter out of habit. The others followed his lead, their banter fading into a brief silence as they refocused on their surroundings.

After a moment, Tannis broke the quiet, his tone lighter but still amused. "You know, "sir", for someone who doesn't talk much, you've got a pretty sharp sense of humor."

Reicher turned his visor toward him, the faint glow reflecting off the rain. "It's a survival mechanism," he said, his tone dry. "You lot make it necessary."

The squad erupted into laughter once more, the storm doing little to dampen their spirits. Even in the gloom of Dromund Kaas, camaraderie proved to be the best defense against the weight of their duty.

​