Public The Beginning of the End

[Jaeger Harrsk]

A planet destroyed.

It had been ages since the last time it had happened, he was a far younger man then. A time when he had still not acquired the scars on his face. Corellia.

Jaeger's eyes narrowed over the intel barrage coming in over the screen before him, the smoke of his cigarette lazily dancing across it. There was hardly any emotion stirring in his gut. He had no attachment to Csilla, nor to its people the Chiss. As a matter of fact, the demise of their capital would be a prime opportunity to force the Chiss to bend beneath the Iron Sun.

We've been running interference for too long.

But this sudden, surprising communique... maybe it had stirred some poignant, long-forgotten warmth in her cold heart. A heart colder than his ex-wife's.

A nasty smirk pulled his lips.

<"Sheesh, I thought you liked the foreplay"> Jaeger responded to his blue-skinned nemesis, then straight to the point, <"What do you want, blue?">

IVI

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Enyo received the news in an obscure, Spartan office. Somewhere on a cube in deep space. Much of the office was dominated by holo-projectors and monitors. Naturally, there were no chairs. "I see. Wasteful," was the first thing she had to say. "Pointless, chaotic destruction." But no emotion crossed her face. Or moralistic outrage. "The only superweapon I ever liked was the World Devastator." Then she shrugged indifferently. "How many worlds have been depopulated in the past thirty years?"
Her sole companion chimed in. "Would you like a detailed list? I have the statistics." The computerised voice of the AI had become strangely...human. She did not like that.

"No need. There are many cheap ways to annihilate a world. Less dramatic ones. The reason this event drew the attention of so many powers has nothing to do with humanitarian concern," she scoffed. She had never been impressed by Chiss. "Lob a couple asteroids at a world, burn it with nuclear fire, murder the indigenous population through carpet bombings, starvation and forced labour camps - par for the course. But build a death star to do it...That is a symbol. It has power. It was never about the blue people with the complicated names."
"Organics chase glory. Those who proclaim 'righteousness' even more so. Doubtless the 'defenders' imagined themselves having their own device. While cloaking themselves in the mantle of the 'hero' who took it down."

"Yes. But the armadas of the 'free galaxy' lost. Ironic, the 'mighty' Sith Empire tried the same and was defeated by a group of anarchistic country hicks. But a cult of barbarians takes on half the galaxy using a copy of a device that didn't work properly in the first place...and wins."

Some would call this the start of a new era. An age of annihilation. Enyo did not. The Dark Age had never ended. Civilisation was a comfortable delusion. A few more worlds would burn. More worlds would burn the old-fashioned way. And the clock would keep ticking. It moved at its own pace.

She stared through the glasteel window. Here and there, an Archangel ship could be seen traversing the fathomless void. All beings, herself included, were just part of the machine. One day the clock would strike midnight and then everything would finally die.

CIAC broke the silence. "I have identified several Chiss refugee convoys. Would you like me to forward the data to me."
Without turning her gaze from the void, Enyo nodded blandly. They could be...useful, be it as processing materiel or minions. "Yes."

"Proceeding. One more detail may interest you. Kerrigan's daughter was at Csilla."
Enyo raised eyebrow. "My 'niece'. Still chasing big sister's phantom. Is she among the casualties?" she wasn't sure why she bothered to take an interest.
"Not according to our intelligence."
She walked away from the window.The Cyborg felt a jolt in her skull when the AI streamed data into her mind. Cold hard data. That was what the death of a world looked like to her. "I want a briefing our task force commanders in the unknown regions."
"By your command."
"While you're at it, bring me the data for our earnings and losses in the second quarter." Business had to continue, after all.

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Tegan’s hands were clasped behind her back as she stood at the front of war room table aboard her ship. She had taken a shower and cleaned herself up since her grueling battle aboard the Mercy against two jedi. Still things from that loomed on her mind but she would have to worry about them later. Her orange eyes watched as Sorcerers of Rhand began to enter the room, some of which looked to her with a nod of respect while others ignored her completely. Tegan was an outsider to some of them, not truly apart of there dark cult and never would be fully accepted. Yet that did not bother Tegan she had never been truly accepted anywhere not even among her own kind on Dathomir.


She wore dark leather robes as she stood before the gathering, at her side on a table sat stack of documents the last remnants of the Expeditionary library on Csilla. As all gathered around the war room table Tegan took a deep breath before she began to speak. Her voice unassuming not at all what one would expect from a crazed maniac but low soft and sweet. Yet as she began to speak the room fell silent around her, they knew not to interrupt her the sweet unassuming voice a lie to the cruelty she could inflict even those that did not respect her did fear her so fell silent.


“Csilla is gone, for the Maw they think they have cut the head from the snake. They will revel in their apparent victory, but within the coming days they will realize that it was not a snake they removed a head from but a Hydra. When you cut one head off a hydra two more grow in its place.


Now more zealots of the light will rise, blinded by hypocrisy not able to see that their very existence is demise of all life. The Galaxy needs Balance for every so-called hero of the light that rises so to must another darkness. The pain, the suffering, and endless war will not end until every star is extinguished and the light dies letting the cold void envelope the corpses of all the dead worlds.


So tonight, you may celebrate but tomorrow we continue the crusade of Entropy.”


The room remained silent the sorcerers were not the barbarians of the Maw Hordes there would be no hooping and hollering. However, among the Sorcerers one voice did speak out. “What is our path forward then, where do we go next?” The voice much like Tegan’s was soft spoken but male. Tegan did not look to the person who spoke she knew who it was and though he was one of her dissenters his question was valid. She pointed to the stack of documents on the table.


“We hunt down slaughter, enslave, or indoctrinate every last Chiss that still resides in Chiss space. Steal all their secrets they have hidden. As we do that, I will also be investigating the Bryn’adul, the Galaxy seems to be, being attacked from both sides.” She smirked from the little she knew of these Bryn they did intrigue her they were an unwitting ally of sorts. Of course she knew her answers would not appease everyone what they really wanted to know was how long before they took Rhand back from the heathen that currently claimed lordship over it. “There are also other Organizations with in the Galaxy that need to be made example of but don’t you worry we will take Rhand from Lirka Ka ." Tegans eyes began to burn a furious orange as she said it and that did cause the Sorcerors of Rhand Gathered cheer violently.

 

[Derix Tirall]

The High Regent was, in a rare sens of inner peace, entirely quiet.

The pain which surged through his twin Palatine Guard gave him all the information he needed: Cssila was gone. Despite the incredible odds, the Brotherhood of the Maw had done what the Omega Sith could not. What the Sith Empire could not. What the Byrn'dual would never. They had killed eight billion people in one fell swoop.

"Yes" His eyes were closed as he glanced upwards at the Captain which approached him. The young woman, a subject of a training program he himself praised for it's brutal effectiveness, stood whereas he sat crossed legged on the floor of his expansive office. At the center of the room was the symbol of Final Dawn, the apex at which his body rested. The woman quickly saluted.

"Your Lordship, it has been confirmed" The High Regent piqued his eyebrows without opening his actual eyes. He let minutes go by before responding, still without giving the young woman his full attention.

"I know" At that point he stood, and towered above the Captain."Inform the Admiralty to prepare a speech to the citizens, and monitor the holonet channels. War is coming. But it need not come before we're ready"

"We have sir. Some messages of endurance. Others promising war. And something about a hydra" The High Regent ignored the first part, lighting a death-stick and placing the smoking device between his lips. "A hydra?" He asked. The Captain nodded.

"Ah, the theory that when you cut off one head, two more shall grow. Sure, they'll grow. But they won't be cut off. They'll be burned"

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Somewhere in the Netherworld

In four decades of endless war and genocide many planets had been destroyed, stripped of life, of soul. Thyferra, Ession, Mandalore... and now the countless worlds purged by the Draelvasier and their covenant. But none had been so thoroughly destroyed like Csilla. For all of galactic history it had shined in the darkness of the Unknown Regions, and in a few hours it had been shattered, billions of souls forever wiped clean in a cosmic instance. Not since the first Galactic Empire had something on this scale been accomplished.

It was said that when the Sith destroyed Old Alderaan it had rippled through the force to the Jedi left in the galaxy. Now, in a time when the galaxy was a living, breathing web of people connected by the force more than ever before, it did not ripple. It crashed. Like the force of a tsunami with just as much warning.

Fear was all the galaxy had left. Fear was leading to desperation. Even the Sith, as they slaughtered one another, were in fear, though none would admit such a thing. In truth they scrambled for some sense of reason, some clarity perhaps. Csilla had been a momentary pause when they could put their differences away for the benefit of the Dark Side, but it was over. Each Sith with any worth to their name claimed august titles and divinity, each harboring the foolish notion that they would be the one to unite the fractured Order and harness the galaxy's fear. Vinaze had pledged himself to help a few in the past. He had felt so sure that the days of the Sith'ari were upon them, but now uncertainty clouded his visions. All the warring Sith did now was drag each other down...

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: On aboard the Crimson Empress.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Kiss of the Red Witch | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: N/A

[ Just Inside My Head ] ​

It was too late, though she still managed to get off from the Mercy, which was later destroyed, but too late. There was nothing left of Csilla. Ingrid stood on the bridge of the Crimson Empress, next to Cal Osborn Fleet Commander, watching the ruins from there. She felt, felt through the Force, the destruction of the planet. Feft a void behind as countless souls lost there. Heard the screams for a few moments, then it was as if they had cut them off…

Silence and emptiness.

It took her minutes to start feeling anything in the Force again. It felt like the Force had disappeared for minutes. As if it had happened what the late Emperor wanted, and which was also her task. She stared blankly and coldly at the traces of disaster as the Eternal Empire's fleet caught up behind the Crimson Empress. She could feel the anger, the despair of those on the ship. But Ingrid was empty, not even now able to feel rage, to be angry. All such feelings were immediately suppressed by her.

Cal didn't care about the protocol now, he reached out for Ingrid's hand and tied their fingers together. A loyal companion, one of the best friends who is always by her side. She was still looking out of the bridge. The Maw was close to the Eternal Empire; once the Maw attacked them, but it was just a raid. The next one will not be such a short-lived raid. These were at least as dangerous as Bryn’adûl. Something had to be done with them.

Silence and mourning.

That was left behind, the Chiss lost their mother world. If Maw was now able to build such a weapon, they will be again. Which world will be next? How long will the domination of the fantasist Sith last? When will it succeed in ending this and destroying the Force? True, the destruction of the Force will not eliminate superweapons either. Something has to be done, next time it could have been any planet of the Eternal Empire.

Bryn’adûl and Maw; the number of enemies only increased day by day.

<"My Lord, what's your order?"> one of the officers started to speak behind her.

<"We are preparing for the worst and the war. Now, in addition to Bryn’adûl, we also have to defeat the Maw to defend the Eternal Empire."> she answered and released Cal's hand.

<"Fleet Commander, take the fleet home!"> she gave the order to the man who looked at her, saluted, and issued the order.

The Eternal Empire’s fleet set out for home.

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

Everyone was out and away. Some on crusade, others on more menial tasks that the Order had sent them on. Aeris herself was in the library, a place that was far too quiet even for a library. Each step she took seemed to echo around the halls only to fall on her ears, and her ears alone. The squeak of her book trolley resonated with an eerie reverb, and as she came to a halt by one of the taller shelves she let its echo sweep across the place with the almost foreboding sense of dread that it sent coursing through her system.

As she grabbed the book in her hand, a first hand retelling of the Death Star’s devastation as witnessed by a master displaced in time from then, she brushed the last few crumbs that the previous student had left on it and gave it a gentle sweep of her forearm to rid it of the thin layer of dust that had amassed on it. This was one of the few books that Aeris herself had to hunt someone down to retrieve for the library, and in the end she had found it stuffed under one of the recent arrival’s bunk along with several other overdue books that she took the liberty of returning along with a stern note that she left behind to kindly ask them not to do this again.

With a deep sigh she glanced up at the top shelf of this particular shelf unit. This was a book that many sought out, but organization was organization, and that meant it was to be put on the very top shelf. Aeris pulled a nearby wheeled ladder up next to her and began to climb only to realize that by the time she had reached the peak the book’s home was just beyond her reach. For whatever reason that eluded her she decided to reach for it instead. Her arm reached out towards the spot, her neck craning to the side as her waist extended with a groan.

The book found the very edge of its shelf as one ripple of darkness cried out after the other until eventually a cacophony of what seemed to be almost a billion voices all cried out at once and were abruptly silenced.

Aeris’ strength failed her. The grip that she once had on the ladder was gone as her body fell limp and into a freefall straight towards her trolley. A sickening thud and crack echoed around the empty library followed by yet another thud. Aeris’ breath was knocked out of her and yet she tried to get herself up again. Although her legs failed her, but her arms did not. However, try as she might, no sooner than she had tried to get up again there seemed to be something that struck her at the back of her head.

Aeris passed out, knocked cold by both the devastation of the Death Star (even if it was technically a book) and what she had yet to find out about Csilla. It would seem that on this day, irony had no intentions to pull its punches.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Would it have made a difference if the Ouroboros had been on the scene? Probably. Maybe. Now, hours later he didn't think it mattered. Csilla had been a world of billions, and while the Chiss ascendency was one of the strongest powers in the area and had plenty of colonized worlds, a refugee crisis was sure to come. If the Ouroboros had been destroyed or too damaged to be of use and they had still succeeded then where would the thousands of refugees she now carried towards Alliance space be?

But that was neither here nor there. Here was the ANV Solace, there was one of the many medical wings that comprised the interior of the medical ship. Military personnel and Chiss filled the rooms. Flanked by a pair of 222nd marines he made his way through the halls, giving his condolences or congratulating men and women for surviving the ordeal at all.

The door hissed to Teica Giraan 's room. When he entered he gave a respectful salute before finding the name and rank on his datapad.

"Commander Giraan," he said and fully entered the room, a smile sad smile on his face. "...of the Resolution, Iblis-class." He gestured to a chair near her bed. "May I sit down? Doc says you've got a while before your next bacta treatment."

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: ANV Solace(Samaritan-class Medical Cruiser) - Sick Bay]
[Commander Teica Giraan, standing by]
​

"I know I'll see you there. Oh, I know I'll see you there. Yes, I know I'll see you waiting on the oth-"

Metal retreated into a narrow opening in the doorway's rim, a single large plate forced from the closed position. What came next were the soft sounds of footsteps, crossing in to the less-than luxurious medical suite. Her eyes set first on the visitor's uniform and insignia, then the man's face. Purely by instinct, she returned the salute thrown her way, though the gesture quickly collapsed soon afterward, a hand instead opting to pick up the datapad nestled atop the small desk to the bed's side.

"Commander Giraan," he said and fully entered the room, a smile sad smile on his face. "...of the Resolution, Iblis-class." He gestured to a chair near her bed. "May I sit down? Doc says you've got a while before your next bacta treatment."

"Yes sir, you may," Teica bit her tongue, and sighed a final time at the contents of the doctor's reports.

A final look set on the high admiral, some part dreading to find out why he was on aboard the Solace, some part simply accepting the company. Although, she broke eye contact within seconds of Dracken Pryce 's arrival, and let her nose and head fall into a triangular groove formed by her fingers. A long exhale escaped her mouth, and rushed across her hands. Why her? Was she being promoted? Honorably or even dishonorably discharged? Although, the latter grew ever more appealing while she put her career into consideration once more.

"Shouldn't you be talking to one of the flag officers?"

Maybe she was being discharged. Maybe the high admiral was singling her out, and breaking the news in private. The trail of blood could end after several years too long. Teica could even absolve herself of her sins, her murders, the fatal mistakes that had already claimed so many lives. Or maybe she would be promoted, and the numbers would only increase. Casualties could pile up, not by the tens, but by the hundreds, until the counts would inevitably become too large to be worth recording.

The commander quieted her mind, and raised her head, while she awaited either a coming tirade, or a silent goodbye.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

The seat wasn't comfortable. The synthetic material barely had any cushion beneath its tightly pulled surface and it was slightly too small for Dracken's tastes.

"Not at all," he said. He shrugged. "Though if I'd had it my way you would have been one of those flag officers, but my requests continue to come back with refusals. Why is that?"

He turned his kind Grey-Blue eyes on Teica. They weren't far off from one another age-wise, both Corellian, though she had considerably more time in the Corellian Defense Force than he. She was a capable officer and loyal.

He put up his hands defensively before she could answer his question though.

"I'm not saying you have to accept a role like that. It comes with a lot of responsibility and I'm sure you have your reasons," he set his hands down and clasped his hands together on his knees, "But I would love to know what is going on in that head of yours Teica. How are you holding up?"

Teica Giraan

 

[Constantine Oliva]

ANV Solace, Trauma Ward


I’d never been in a Bacta tank before. It was...warm. Warm, almost like the sun on a summer day. The pain of the fluid touching my extensive burns had faded already, replaced by a mild tingling. This too faded fast, and soon I lost all sense of time or place. It was peace, like I’d never felt before. This was bliss. In the miracle liquid, I forgot my missing eye and arm, the disaster that had been Csilla, all my worries. Of course, the Bacta could only treat so much, and I’d still be lacking on my right when I exited. For now, that felt a long way off…


It wasn’t until I left the bacta that I remembered everything. The dream gave way to nightmare as the fluid drained away. Csilla’s final moment had been burned into my mind. The growing horror as I watched Mercy grow closer to my tiny escape pod. The sudden darkness as the vessel entered hyperspace, dragging me along with it. I’d been pulled through the planet, jettisoned into interstellar space with a field of debris. Somehow, I survived. A Chiss vessel had saved me, and brought me to the Alliance fleet. The fleet that had been too late. Over and over, the memory played…


“Commodore? Can you hear me?”


A doctor was speaking to me. I hadn’t noticed him.

“Y-Yeah.”

“You’ve gone through a lot, Oliva. I’m doing a final check on you, and then you’re going to be sent to the recovery wing.”

I nodded slowly, still not turning to face the man. He checked my injuries, before a nurse began escorting me down a well-lit hallway. I couldn’t focus enough to count the turns we took, or even notice those we passed. Eventually, we came to a stop in a new room, and the Duros nurse began checking me in.

“We don’t have the supplies to give you cybernetics right now, but I can put you on a waiting list.”

“No,” my response was firm. I knew the Brotherhood was full of cyborgs, and I couldn’t bear the thought of becoming like those monsters.

The nurse nodded, and left. Alone with my thoughts, I stared at the ceiling, trying to focus on anything but my memories...


Dracken Pryce Teica Giraan

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: ANV Solace(Samaritan-class Medical Cruiser) - Sick Bay]
[Commander Teica Giraan, standing by]
​

"Not at all," he said. He shrugged. "Though if I'd had it my way you would have been one of those flag officers, but my requests continue to come back with refusals. Why is that?"

A deep breath now sounded, quieted, and faded from all hearing. It left her alone, with no distractions, nothing to delay an answer. And so, she was forced to consider it. A few times, Teica even had asked the question on her own accord, each moment her career was offered advancement. Sometimes, she gave herself the excuse of cowardice, a fear of being assigned any more than one vessel at a time. Sometimes it was mercy, giving those who would otherwise be her subordinates a better chance to survive. Sometimes, it was pure logic, an analysis of herself, and a questioning of her own abilities to manage such a force. It was even a combination of all of the above, at times. But the verdict was always the same to her.

But the admiral had already halted her reply, much to her own benefit.

"I'm not saying you have to accept a role like that. It comes with a lot of responsibility and I'm sure you have your reasons," he set his hands down and clasped his hands together on his knees, "But I would love to know what is going on in that head of yours Teica. How are you holding up?"

Her eyes closed, only a second from the sentence's end, and her hands slowly moved to secure the space around her nose. It took her till after a few moments to clear her breathing, to let an undisturbed inhale refresh her expression, and to let a focused exhale clear her of worries. The remaining tension was expelled in a vile-sounding pair of chuckles, and she once again opened her mouth to speak.

"That's the- uh.. funny thing," Another exhale escaped her mouth, before she could fully slip away, "I'm not holding up at all..."

Silently, she began to count casualties, adding increasingly high numbers. But, eventually, that was all they became. Digits, statistics, not people. She didn't even receive the luxury of being able to understand the numbers.

"If you still want to know why I'm still a commander," A broken smile formed from a frown, and a chuckle managed to escape, "Well, It's just..."

"Alright, let's say you make me a commodore, give me a squadron or something of the sort. And let's say another Csilla, another Ziost, or another Namadii Corridor comes along. How many people do I have to lose? Eh? A few ship's worth? Everyone?" Teica took another deep breath, and tried to hold on to whatever dignity she had left, "I can't even be trusted with one starship, one crew, eh?"

​

"Can I even be trusted with my current rank, Admiral!?" She bit her lower lip, raised her nose just past her fingertips, and let her eyes flutter open while she lowered her tone, "Be honest, sir."

Dracken Pryce

 

[Kadann]

U T A P A U

​

He took great care following the path. One of the less stable sinkholes of the world, it had been abandoned for many decades. They reshaped this world anew with the remains of the past. Architecture in bone. Much still remained even after the population had moved out, but the path that wound down was narrow and treacherous.

Kadann didn't tread wearily because he was worried about the fall. He had promised himself that he wouldn't come this way because the skeletons of his own past were hidden away down here.

The path curved around the outside of the sinkhole. It had been carved directly into the rock. The ground trembled lightly. Far below what might have once been a village tumbled into the depths.

He spotted the familiar gouge in the rockface, but didn't need it to find what he was after. He could sense the connection to his past.

Slowly, carefully, he started to drag a metal trowel across the surface of the wall. Chunks of debris tumbled away until he revealed a solid rectangle. Taken more care, he traced the hard edge with his fingers. Kadann slowly dug away until he found purchase to pull the box free of its hiding place.

With a heavy sigh he swept the dry mud from the top of the plain wooden box. His hand hovered over it.

Kadann had felt the ripple through the Force. Billions wiped out. The kind of wanton destruction that could sweep the galaxy. The responsibility he couldn't shirk.

The box barely creaked as he opened it. He lifted the lightsaber from inside and tossed the box into the chasm. He doubted he would get the chance to retire again.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Teica Giraan

Pryce sighed. She was one of those he guessed.

"Commander, no officer, no grunt has hands that are bloodless." The Admiral ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed.

"The Alliance likes to prop me up on posters and recruiting adds because I'm young and have been leading the offensive against the Sith from the stars...But are you aware of my record?"

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: ANV Solace(Samaritan-class Medical Cruiser) - Sick Bay]
[Commander Teica Giraan, standing by]
​

"You're talking about your time with the One Sith, are you?" Teica's hands lowered to rest on her lap, and her fingers interlaced.

She swallowed a lump, sickened both by what she had read on the admiral's file-- though not directed toward Pryce himself-- and by her having brought it up as she did. One didn't simply mention another's atrocities, even those committed unwillingly-- especially those committed unwillingly.

Teica took another deep breath, another glance at the admiral, and sounded a final sigh. She knew where he was going, whether she had the specific root event correct or not. They were all guilty, and that wasn't the problem. The problem was that She wouldn't let go of her guilt. She blinded herself with fear, only to allow the very blood-spilling that she claimed to dread. And so, the cycle was permitted to continue.

And so, the bloodshed was permitted to continue.

Dracken Pryce

 

[IVI]

THE ENDANGERED DIRECTOR
CORUSCANT | SIA HEADQUARTERS
YOU WANT IT DARKER

<"Sheesh, I thought you liked the foreplay"?
<"What do you want, blue?">

M was loathe to have discussions over the holonet, no matter how many encruptions were coursing through and protecting her words. She'd be a fool to think anything was impenetrable when it was just a collection of code and recycled orders that had or hadn't been tried yet. Especially since they'd started contracting out Darkwire slicers –– they were a cut above even her most advanced agents. Or, maybe not above, just..a cut from a different kind of cloth.

She was even more loathed to be having the discussion with an Imperial. And Jaeger to boot.

Coursing a hand absently over a stack of files, she felt remiss not to be giving them her full attention. Recent recordings from Allyson Locke 's honeypotting escapades, Sora Mohc 's observations of the MAW, the download of Zaavik Perl 's altercation with one of her agents. There were...so many things to clean up. To bring justice to.

Call it personal, but the destruction of a planet –– her people's planet –– managed to squirm it's way up to priority.

<The Triumvirate to put their union to use.> She replied, tapping through the rhythms that put the words to life.

<Instead of slowing one another down on the side lines. This isn't a discussion for over the holonet, but The Brotherhood of the Maw is continuing to collect assets for them to do this again.

Together, we have the resources to stop that from happening. It would require some dedication.>

---

---

​

 

[Kadann]

CORONET CITY: Four Weeks Later​

Vannel Dannis was enjoying his retirement. As he did on all of those days he bothered to make it into the office he stopped by the front desk to make small talk with the staff. His staff.

The company had a private garage below the tower. It kept their executive landspeeders away from the streets. Even in the nicer parts of town the street kids still tried to make their mark jacking speeders. His sleek black vehicle had an inbuilt chauffeur droid.

"Home please," he said to a response of a soft whistle. Comfortable and smooth, his ride sailed out of the garage and onto the streets.

Vannel was feeling perfectly at ease. He had carved out the little corner of corporate space for himself and earned these luxuries.

The peace was broken. Vannel sat bolt upright as he sensed the danger. He opened his mouth to call for the driver to stop a fraction of a second before the speeder went over the mine. The speeder was flung into the air, pain firing through every joint. All he could do was cover his face with his arms.

He blacked out for a few seconds. He opened his eyes to see flames licking around the edge of the droid. Vannel dragged himself from the wreckage, stumbling and rolling across the street. He could hear distant sirens already.

A figure cloaked entirely in black stood in the road facing him.

"Kriff."

Vannel scrabbled to his feet and almost collapsed on the wreckage of his speeder. He fumbled with a storage compartment, pulling free a silver cylinder. He didn't know why, but one of the Order had tracked him down. Vannel didn't feel anything from the Dark Mark on his arm, but it had to be another sith.

The sith in the road hadn't even advanced. He stood motionless as the speeder continued to burn.

 

[Kadann]

CORONET CITY: Four Weeks and fifteen minutes Later​

The sith stalked down the road towards him. Vannel's thumb quivered over the activation switch of his lightsaber. He still didn't feel his dark mark. During his 'retirement' he had helped old friends. Funds and materials quietly moved to their causes. It still didn't surprise him that one of his own had caught up to him. When the Dark Lord had fallen they'd turned on one another like hungry wolves.

Vannel squinted, the firelight revealing a white beard. Every muscle and joint ached. He could feel warmth spreading down his back. He was bleeding.

The man stopped. Just five paces away. He reached up and pulled back his hood.

"You. You?"

"You remember me then?" Kadann asked. "It has been a long time."

"I met you at Manaan."

"You met me at Manaan."

"We fought."

"And I failed to kill you," Kadann completed.

A pregnant pause. The Force stilled.

"I surrender. Take me to whatever trial I'm owed," Vannel said. He kept his grip on his lightsaber, but let his arm fall to his side. It had taken most of his willpower to hold it up anyway. He had lawyers now rather than cultists. Resources to limit the consequences. A voice at the back of his head pointed out how strange it was for a jedi to use a roadside bomb. The sirens were getting closer.

"No. No. I won't sit by this time and let you slink back to the shadows. We never finish the work and you always come back. The dark tide. I can't even hope to do much to stop it now, but I can make amends before I try. Today the list reached you. Draw your blade... or do not. It does not matter."

Vannel tried to strike first. His crimson blade struck blue. Three quick collisions that sent a myriad of sparks rolling down the road. It was over with a brief, searing pain through his chest. Vannel, formerly Darth Cerius of the One Sith, died quickly.

Kadann pulled up his hood and reached down to take the saber. It joined three others at his belt.

He was old, the list was long and the work was tiring.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Pryce flinched at the words as if Teica had struck him. No, that hadn't been what he'd meant, though he couldn't say that the memories he had been reaching for brought him much peace either.

"ANS Starchild, two-thousand seven hundred and twenty of nearly seven-thousand crew dead. ANV Starchild II lost with one-thousand seven hundred and eighty-one lost of too many lives to count. Swords 1 through 4 scuttled or lost. Corellia's Hammer, Longclaw, Starbird's Wing, Shadow Squadron. Not to mention the countless marines I've sent to their demise." He paused, "Even Garvey." The list was inexhaustive and horrendously incomplete but he just needed to get the point across.

"What we do, it isn't easy. You don't have to turn to steel to do it, but you can't let the weight of their deaths, the deaths that we do indeed cause through our orders or our actions, crush you. I've seen your file. I can guarantee that whatever ghosts you're seeing, they are of your own design. A commander as fine as yourself, there isn't a man alive who would curse you as their commander in death."

He stood up. He had others to visit.

"You need to get over your self pitty and start acting like the commander they knew you to be. Not cowered in a bed humming nursery rhymes to yourself. The Galaxy needs you Command Teica Giraan , but it won't stop for you. It doesn't stop for any of us. Your men and women that survived will live on and serve somewhere else. Would you rather be there with them in the end or leave it to someone else?" He started towards the door, the two troopers parting to make way for the High Admiral.

"Make your decision. There will be a lot more death ahead. But these monsters, they need to be stopped at all costs."

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: ANV Solace(Samaritan-class Medical Cruiser) - Sick Bay]
[Commander Teica Giraan, standing by]
​

It wasn't what she was expecting, though Teica nonetheless listened for every word, and repeated the occasional phrase in a cluttered and unnerved mind. Some stung, some terrified her, but...

"You need to get over your self pitty and start acting like the commander they knew you to be. Not cowered in a bed humming nursery rhymes to yourself. The Galaxy needs you Command Teica Giraan , but it won't stop for you. It doesn't stop for any of us. Your men and women that survived will live on and serve somewhere else. Would you rather be there with them in the end or leave it to someone else?"

It finally tore the breath out of her, left her speechless, mouth paralyzed with both rows of teeth a mere centimeter apart. Eyes closed and opened once more, while her mind began to quiet alongside. Then came a gently flowing inhale and exhale, while she stopped just on the edge of shedding a tear.

"Make your decision. There will be a lot more death ahead. But these monsters, they need to be stopped at all costs."

With that, Pryce had come to a stand, the soft sounds of footsteps first shocking Teica from her own trance, before they began to fade ever-so-slightly for each step. She took another deep, calm breath, vocal chords building up the strength to let her speak.

"Expect me ready for duty within the week."

"And... Thank you, admiral," The commander raised her head, the High Admiral standing only two steps from the doorway, "Thank you."

And then it was quiet. After the door slid to a swift close, after the footsteps faded entirely, and after her mind finally calmed itself, Teica found herself in peace. The air felt surreal, the sights blurred and let her eyes relax. Her composure returned hesitantly at first, before she began to settle in to changed surroundings; and It was then that the ends of her lips carefully curved upward, the rest of her face beginning to calm alongside.

Quiet. Just the way she liked it.