Private The Eyes Of The Serpent Are Upon You

[Elmindra Xitaar]

Korriban | Vardin | Palatial Capital | Spires of Kor'ethyr
The Private Offices of First Lord Elmindra Xitaar

[THEME]

News of the conflict on Woostri had taken the galaxy by storm and First Lord Elmindra Xitaar had not missed a beat, despite her lack of direct involvement. According to her sources, it had been clear that the Sith Order would be victorious immediately following the initial cataclysmic battle, perhaps sooner even, yet it had taken weeks for the Galactic Alliance to finally accept their fate and issue a full retreat. Although Korriban, specifically Kor’ethyr Academy, had been represented in the conflict by Madrona A’Mia and some of their most promising acolytes, the King’s fleet had been pointedly absent. The official statement from the Court of Vardin, as decreed by Darth Caedes , had been that the fleet was making excellent progress but had not yet made a full recovery nor was it fit to be fielded in battle, not without compromising the security of Korriban and the Sith Holy Worlds.

Elmindra and Ufsa'ynth'aris , the Court's new Master of Ceremonies, had been carefully cultivating the narrative of the fallout following the disaster at Sluis Van as well as how the rebuilding of Korriban’s fleet was covered in order to maintain the discretion of certain highly-classified projects and how exactly those projects were being funded. One particularly ambitious project, headed by A’Mia, was in the early development stages but the projections for required resources were already far greater than anything Bogan Fleet Systems had taken on before. Said projects, along with Elmindra’s ever-growing responsibilities as First Lord of Korriban, had kept her more than occupied as of late and, although her network was robust, it was straining to keep up with the demands of her ambitions.

Despite her demands for his return, Elmindra’s apprentice, Kyraj , had been infuriatingly dismissive or otherwise unresponsive in some juvenile defiance of her efforts to tighten his leash. She had cut him off from her accounts but the troublesome young man had apparently established enough success in his own endeavors to have created some semblance of financial independence. She needed a replacement, someone who she could mold into a far more loyal and effective tool.

She had been keeping a close eye on the progress of the students of Kor’ethyr for some time, specifically those who showed great promise. There were a handful of them that had caught her attention over the course of the last several months but one in particular kept rising to the top as of late. She had not been impressed with the young man in the initial trials, though he had made quite an impact, but he’d shown initiative, growth, and perhaps most important, loyalty to the Order–something too many of the youth of today lacked, in her opinion.

It appeared Elmindra was not the only one taking notice of this particular student though. She had received reports that he’d become rather close with Diarch Reign and his brother, Diarch Rellik , and he was even recently approached by the apprentice of Darth Malum and adopted grandson of the Emperor, Zachariah Conway . She was a woman of business and politics, she understood it was inevitable that they would lose some of their investments to their competition, but she strongly disliked taking unnecessary loses and she intended to maintain and recuperate the investment Korriban and her ruling Court had made in cultivating the future of the Sith.

Elmindra had just finished listening to Darth Meritum’s address when the door to her private office opened and Captain Ag-Ro-Na stepped inside. The Rajakzânkut was one of the few entities permitted to enter Elmindra’s quarters in such a manner, specifically when she’d been summoned directly.

“Firssst Lord, how may I ssserve?”
“I wish to speak with Naamino Zuukamano. He is a student at Kor’ethyr Academy. Find him and bring him to me. Pull him from his classes if you must. No need for discretion.” She wanted those who might be watching the boy to know who they would be competing with if they tried to pursue this particular asset.
“Your will, my Lord.”​

The professor of Naamino’s class was interrupted in the middle of their lecture on the history of imperial military structure by the sudden intrusion of the Captain Ag-Ro-Na. The Rajakzânkut known as First Lord Xitaar’s next in command shared a few murmured words with the professor then turned to address the hall of students, calling for Naamino Zuukamano to join her. With little more than an apology for the intrusion, an introduction, and a brief explanation that he had been summoned to take audience with the First Lord, Captain Ag-Ro-Na led the Zabrak to where a luxurious limospeeder awaited them, prepared to take them to the Palatial Capital of Vardin.

He was delivered to the First Lord’s private offices and ushered into an opulent lounge where he was told to wait until he was permitted an audience. In contrast to the cold arid desert outside, this room was kept very warm and somewhat humid, as if affecting a mildly tropical biome. The space was a veritable feast for the senses, bathed in the low orange-red light of Horuset filtering through massive transparisteel windows that overlooked the royal palace and the dunes beyond, the faint scent of a pleasant and intoxicating musk in the air. The immaculate architecture from floor to ceiling was complemented by the art and priceless artifice featured throughout the room. The acolyte would be able to feel within the Force the power radiating from a few of the objects encased in clari-crystalline.

Captain Ag-Ro-Na soon returned with permission for him to enter Elmindra’s office. She did not follow him inside but she did close the doors behind him. There, still as a coiled serpent, seated behind an ornate desk was the First Lord of Korriban, Admiral Elmindra Xitaar. Her over-large reptilian eyes bore into him with the full weight of her attention, appraising him as if he was prey that had stumbled into her lair.

“Come in, Naamino. Take a seat.” The gentle command of her voice cut through the silence of the room, her long sharp fingers unfurled like the legs of spiders in a slow gesture to the seat opposite her desk.​

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Korriban | Vardin |
Palatial Capital | Spires of Kor'ethyr
Private Offices of First Lord Elmindra Xitaar

Outfit:
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link,
Well Worn Boots, Weal & Woe,
Rakghoul house robes, black hand wraps

​

The stern zabrak had spent the last handful of weeks waiting for consequences from his fight on the Vorpal Fang to come fully to bear. Things around campus had been suspiciously normal and the day to day routine Naamino Zuukamano found himself settling back into did little to stave off the sense that at any moment he'd need to answer for the foolish lack of control he'd shown.

Chilly eyes rose to inspect Captain Ag-Ro-Na, as she entered then crossed the room with a sense of purpose and an air of absolute command. His curiosity was echoed silently throughout the classroom by his fellow students, but a zing of uncertainty suddenly shot through him as he was summoned. The zabrak didn't hesitate to follow orders, packing up his things quickly as his mind raced, following the near legendary figure who'd summonded him.

Naami felt his pulse thunder as it was explained who had truly summoned him, and he had to fight to keep from spiraling into a dark narrative about why he was being brought before the Elmindra Xitaar . Despite his inner turmoil, the teen did an admirable job of remaining outwardly calm and never waivered in his strict military decorum. He was the picture of deference, the perfect stoic soldier, even as questions piled up in his mind.

Straightening his robe fastidiously as he left the impressive limospeeder, Naami soon lamented the snug fit of his layered robe collar as he waited in the unusually warm lounge. The wait did offer him a moment to re-center himself meditatively, which was exceedingly helpful in allowing him to maintain some sense of soldierly stoicism. However, the tropical environment of the First Lord's offices in combination with his adrenal system spiking a short time earlier meant that he was sweating even as he regained a sense of calm.

By the time he found himself before the legendary navigator, Naami was certain his robes were still pristine looking outwardly but he was feelingly uncomfortably warm despite his heightened tolerance for extreme temperatures. He sincerely hoped the layered effect of his clothing would prevent any embarassing display of nerves, and continued to school his breathing as he sat. He'd entered her private office with militant decorum, and moved the chair out in much the same way only after offering the woman a deep, respectful bow of his horned head.

"Ma'am," the young man intoned solemnly.

"It is an honor to meet you."

Regardless of whether she was about to dole out punishment for his actions on the return shuttle from Woostri, or if perhaps her purpose in calling him was even more grevious then that, the words were true. The woman before him was a legend, a Sith hero and genius tactician the likes of which Naami hoped to one day emulate with his own career. So despite his uncertainty, he met this unexpected audience with as much confidence as he could.