Through victory my chains are broken....

[Ulrich]

What was once an opulent palace has become nothing more than a charnel house. The scent of incense mingling with the heady odor of spice has been masked, replaced with the stench of entrails now lying in crimson pools. Hutts were disgusting creatures, degenerate gastropods and this particular specimen had been no different. However they did have one particular quirk that I could appreciate: high doors and ceilings. The corpulent sacks of flesh liked to be carried around on a litter drawing their already greater than average bulk from the ground. So it was that I could move around without doing my head or horns injury. I had used this mobility to devastating effect. Twelve gamorrean corpses were splayed across the living quarters eviscerated by my claws or crushed by my tail.

The master of the house himself was lying prostrate in the spoiling remains of his lavish dinner. I had made a ruin of his neck tearing through the layers of fat in order to reach the larynx that lay beneath. No more of his guttural speech would befoul this place. In front of me were what were once slaves. Five in all : two human , two twilek and one togruta. I had snapped their chains a few minutes previous. Following this the Togruta and one of the human women had set upon their overseers - a twiliek couple with emerald hued skin. I watched with reserved detachment as the Togruta downed the male while the human downed the female. Both then set about crushing their once oppressors lekku into little more than smears of grey matter on the tiles.

"Stay there. I may have need of your testimony soon."

My instructions to the now emancipated slaves were heeded readily. For one thing I had saved them from a life of debasement under a disgusting despot. For another I am significantly larger than a rancor and have just slaughtered numerous armed guards with minimal effort. Striding through the audience room and into one of the antechamber that connects to it I set my gaze on a prone figure on the floor. Clad in beskar armor its clear that this corpse was once a Mandalorian, specifically a bounty hunter. It's missing an arm and there is a deep dent in the beskar frontplate where I have caved its ribs in with a backhanded blow. Taking in a deep breath I begin to intone the words to a spell.

"تعال تدخل الروح في الجسد الذي عشت فيه ذات مرة"

There is a shift in the ambient temperature, the chill of the grave seeping forth from the other side as the Madalorian's spirit is forcibly pulled back from his journey to the netherworld and into his discarded husk. Exerting my will I command the revenant to rise from the ground. It does so relatively smoothly, rigor mortis not yet having set into the body. Excellent. I seat myself in the center of the antechamber and begin to wait for the one who I have invited. He goes by the name of Alisteri Haxim, one of my peers in the Sith order. I have met him briefly during one of the many military campaigns that have entangled the Sith empire in recent months. Our contanct was brief notably when I was escorting the boy Aurelian at the behest of the dark lord Prazutis but I doubt he has forgotten me entirely. I tend to leave a rather lasting impression on most sentients I meet. I have a proposal for him and after having done a little bit of digging on his personal history and activities I suspect that we are in many ways kindred spirits. Having chosen this particular scene as the backdrop of our meeting was a calculated move.

Unlike what some may suspect this is not a mere vulgar display of power nor a play at intimidation. Rather it is a declaration of where my goals lie and how I live my principles. Being a sorcerer himself I suspect that symbolic gestures such as these will not go wasted upon him. If all has gone well he should have received my letter sometime ago and be on his way to the coordinates in which I now reside.

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

Even in his time as a slave, Alisteri had thankfully never been anywhere near a Hutt. Just as well, he had certainly never been near one of their debaucherous little dens, but he had heard stories. Oh so many stories. There were always stories of them, it was rare to find a slave that hadn't seen one. Just seeing one was hardly the least that they had experienced a Hutt as well. Suffice to say that he felt an overwhelming sense of relief as the unmistakable scent of death and blood hit him as he strode into the building.

He hadn't expected a message to come here, and the sender of said message had been even more unexpected. Ulrich , a fellow Sith that he had met only once before. Well...'met' was a bit of an exaggeration. In reality they had merely shared a battlefield once in the past. That had been many months ago now, but it felt like nearly a lifetime with all that had happened.

Well, he certainly knows how to make an impression. Between the sight of the numerous dead before him and the memory of the battle they had shared, the masked man doubted that anyone could forget this Sith. The sight and smell of the gore did little to deter him, he had torn men and women apart before as well. Not nearly as extensive as these ones were though. It was still impressive of course, his gaze resting on the dead Hutt for a moment before running over what were no doubt his slaves.

Keyword being 'were' of course.

Freed and vengeful slaves surrounded by thier dead masters, I almost feel flattered. Finally, doing his best to step around the corpses that littered the floor, he arrived before the artist of this grim display and bowed his head in respect. "To what do I owe the pleasure of being invited to such a...wonderful sight?"

 

[Ulrich]

As Alisteri inclined his head I did the same, a gesture to denote that we saw each other as equals. My fellow acolyte was of medium height and build garbed in a form fitting obsidian ensemble that combined mundane fibers with armor. He also bore a mask , something I gathered had become a sort of emblem for the young mage. Curiously my more arcane senses were also hinting that there was something of the grave about the man . Such premonitions were vague and could mean any number of things. Perhaps he was haunted by spirits who wished to keep something of a low profile, possibly he was like myself a practitioner of necromancy or even that he had somehow managed to find himself among the ranks of the undead. I wouldn't pry, when and indeed if Alesteri decided to reveal this to me was his choice to make .

Stretching my stiff wings as I spoke I replied to my fellow Sith

"Greetings Alisteri, as to purpose behind this little display, consider it to be a gesture of my sincerity. A token demonstration that I am a man of action as well as my word. I hope you will not find it too disconcerting that I have looked into your history and movements as founder of the Wononsa movement . Truth be told I find it a highly admirable venture. There are many in the galaxy that simply do not understand the difference between slavery and the ideals of meritocratic feudalism that the Sith are dedicated to. Your order makes clear the distinction between a system where those with talent take the stations they deserve while those without both work towards the goals of and are in turn protected and fostered by those in power.

The slave owner of course has no such benign obligation, nor does he wish his captives to better themselves for he is fearful of his own inadequacies. It is to my understanding that those who have dedicated to the Dark Wonosa movement are taught to strengthen themselves so they may be more fully actualized in a galaxy that is in many ways hostile to sentient life. In this I think we are kindred spirits. Both drawn to the Sith ways because we know they speak to a primordial truth that resounds though creation. Sorcery being the most pure and primal manifestation of this principle the true key to power beyond what secular authority can ever hope to wield.

It is this reason that I wish to tell you a story. Its not one that many in the galaxy know for it is both shameful and damning to those who are portrayed in it. I think it will resonate with you however as it to a degree mirrors your own experience."

I take a breath and draw myself up from all fours onto a more upright sitting posture so that I am better able to articulate my points with my hands in the manner of bipeds. My head 'almost' touches the roof but again the Hutt flair for impressive architecture grants me a measure of comfort lacking in the dwellings of all bar the most grand of humanoids.

"As you can plainly see from my form, I am what most humanoids would term a dragon. It is no coincidence that my kind feature in the mythologies of most races because we are exceedingly ancient. It is my belief from both what little records remain as well as interviews with the spirts of the atavistic dead that we were at our apex of power sometime around the Rakatan Empire. Many mistake me for a Duinuogwuin or star dragon and it is indeed true that my species are closely related to them. In fact it is due to the miscegenation between our races and the mutated offspring that such affairs created that many of the lesser species of dragon now populate the galaxy today.

What I actually am is a Basiliskan. Don't feel the unfamiliarity of the word indicates a flaw in your knowledge, few have ever head the term in this age. At any rate something happened in those ancient times that forced my people to retreat from their galaxy spanning travels and return to their home world of Basilisk in a diminished state. We had never been very numerous, thanks to our extremely long lifespans and whatever terrible event had occurred had further reduced our numbers. We spent millennia on our little backwater recovering and raising new generations of our people until our planet fell under the gaze of the Mandalorian warmachine.

These barbarian hordes set about attacking our planet with gusto. Even though we were both technologically and physically superior to the warrior order sheer overwhelming numbers proved to be more than we could handle. Eventually we had to surrender or face total obliteration. Were the Mandalorians gracious in victory? Not at all! Our history , science and culture were all destroyed. What remained was our defense droids who were reprogrammed to serve the Mandalorians and our people who were enslaved and subjected to countless abuses in order to reshape our species as mindless tools of war.

Imagine if you will for a second that it was humanity whose species were captured by the bastard progenitors of the Mandalorian blight the now extinct Tuang. Put in cages you are routinely beaten and degraded for centuries. Every cruelty heaped upon you until your species begins to regress. Generation after generation your species grows more like animals until you are nothing more than monkeys trained to rut , fight and simper to your masters. That was the world I awoke to, the one I escaped. Alisteri do you understand the horror of being in such a situation? Given your background I think you might.

What I have invited you here for is to propose an alliance. If you pledge to help me with my goal of eliminating the Mandalorian scum from the face of the galaxy and freeing the last of my people I too will assist you in whatever ventures that you wish to pursue."

The opening of my pitch concluded I gesture with a clawed hand to my fellow acolyte to show that I would like to hear his thoughts on the matter. If he decides that our paths are aligned to a degree in which he can readily accept all well and good. If not then I will have my beskar wearing corpse and the five women say their piece.

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

The mere physical form of the Sith before him was more than enough to warrant equal parts of respect and worry from the masked man. It wasn't every day that he met with someone that could decimate an entire building by themselves after all. Not to mention the feeling of the Force that he gave off. Something mystical almost, if that was the right word for it. He hadn't had much experience with the more occult and archaic areas of the Force yet, but he had been around enough to know a sorcerer when he saw one. Or, felt one through the Force rather. He didn't bother probing around too much though, better to not seem rude after all.

There was a small incline of his head again at the mention of his cult, a small look of surprise flashing across his face underneath his mask. He'd hardly call his congregation secret by any sense of the word of course, they were rather open about what they were. Still though, they hadn't done much to warrant attention yet. Other than one or two fairly successful charities of course. He was still rather proud of those. Evidently Ulrich had done some research on him, good to know.

A story hm? Intriguing, but he doubted that he was called all the way here just for a little talk. He was prepared to listen carefully. Alisteri shifted in place slightly as the other Sith raised himself up, his hands crossing behind his back as his gaze flickered between the eyes and hands of Ulrich. He could see why Hutts enjoyed lounging and giving orders in places like this, it was hard to look anywhere else when such an imposing figure was speaking.

He didn't interrupt as the story went on, simply standing and listening with seemingly no reaction. Well, almost no reaction.

Occasionally there was a noticeable movement from the masked man, specifically a clenching of a fist behind his back at certain parts of the story. If there was only one thing that made his blood boil at every instance, it was slavery. Any mention of it, any hint of it, and especially any story of it always made him tense and angry. He had cast off his own chains not all that long ago, and the scars they left were still sore. Even still he did not speak a word, simply and intently listening. There were plenty of thoughts about what he could say running through his mind of course, but he didn't let them slip.

Finally, the offer of alliance was made.

Ah, so that is why I'm here then. It was a pleasant surprise if he was honest, he didn't often get such offers. In truth he had never gotten such an offer, all of the previous times that he had worked with others it had simply been an implied alliance of convenience. Before he responded he thought over the offer, glancing at the other occupants of the room as well as the corpse before him. He knew slaves when he saw them, and he had heard enough stories to recognize what was most likely a Mandalorian. One could only fathom what they had to say. Silence reigned for a couple minutes before he finally spoke.

"Your cause is that of revenge and liberation, I understand it well." Very well in fact, he had slain his fair share of slavemasters in a fit of rage more than once. "I will never deny the opportunity to free a slave, or kill their master. I shall assist you in bringing liberation to your people Ulrich. However, I am not in the business of genocide. I am an executioner of the wicked, not the purger of a people. If you wish to hunt down every last Beskar-clad warrior in the galaxy then I wish you luck on such a monumental task, but I will only help free your brethren and slay those in the way of that goal."

 

[Ulrich]

As far as responses go it was a lot better than total rejection. It seemed that Alisteri would indeed provide me with his help so long as it involved taking out those who could be confirmed as slavers. Well I would take that gladly but it also wouldn't hurt to push my case just a bit further given that I had worked towards getting the evidence before us.

"Well let me extend my thanks Alisteri. The fact that you are willing to do as such is a great boon to my cause. In return feel free to call on my aid should you need it. Indeed if that is all the assistance you are willing to give then that is more than enough. However let me make my case for my more 'decisive' actions so that you can better comprehend why I would take such extreme measures. "

With a flick of my claw I motion the body of the Mandalorian bounty hunter to walk forward. I address the revenant with cold tones.

"What is your name?"

"Sask Vizsla"

Its voice is harsh and discordant coming from a ruined windpipe.

" What was your purpose here?"

"Deliver runaways"

"By runaways you mean slaves who escaped yes?"

"That's right."

"Do your feel your actions are in any way reprehensible?"

"No"

"Why is that?"

"I'm a bounty hunter I do my job and live up to the codes. That is the way of the Mandalorian warrior. The morality of the outsider means nothing to me"

"Is this a common view?"

"To all true sons of Mandalore"

With that I snap two claws causing sparks to leap into the air at the friction. The Mandalorian slumps to the floor his animating spirit dragged vanishing in a puff of brimstone scent as the maw of hell opens up to usher him into his eternity of torment. I turn to address Alisteri once more.

"My war is not so much a one of genocide as it is ethnocide. As you are well aware of Mandalorians can be of most any species but their ideology persists even after our predecessors made an attempt to scour it from the face of the galaxy. Many would say tha t this is a great crime of the Sith but I don't take ones who did it as fools. The Mandalorian ideology is at fault here and I think that our forebears understood this. We Sith are scholars as well as warriors after all. "

I bow my head to Alisteri.

"I thank you for having listened to my piece. I haven't had the chance to actually elucidate my thoughts out loud to anyone especially not one with circumstances that are in so many ways close to mine. For the moment let us each work to cultivate our respective power so that we may enact the change we with to see upon the galaxy"

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Strosius]

There was a small, curious tilt of his head as the other Sith offered to make a case. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but the corpse stepping forward and speaking was certainly not on any sort of list of expectations. So necromancy isn't just a myth after all. Hm. Truth be told, as disturbing as such a display was, he was rather unaffected by it. Fighting in two wars for months now had dulled and desensitized almost any reaction he had to corpses and grisly sights.

The sight of said corpse talking was rather jarring though.

He quickly decided that he preferred when the dead stayed dead.

Although he did his best to be nonchalant, he couldn't help but feel his blood run cold at the mere mention of "runaways." He didn't even need Ulrich to confirm it like he did.

He had seen his fair share of slaves being dragged back to their master throughout his life.

Not all of them had been in one piece either, and the lucky ones that were had hardly been lucky enough to escape untouched by their "recovery" regardless.

He did his best to ensure that his disgust at the corpse's occupation wasn't too obvious.

Alisteri wasn't at all surprised by the lack of regret, his gaze coldly following the body as it slumped to the ground before him. It took a certain sort of morality or justification to work with slaves in any sense. Well, "morality" and "justification" weren't what he would call the reasoning of slavers, but they were more fitting terms than anything else.

Everyone always had their reasons for their crimes, be they slavery or whatever else, but he hardly cared to listen to them.

His attention quickly returned to Ulrich as he spoke up again.

"I would hesitate to presume the actions of our forebearers to be entirely just in such a manner, it is just as likely that they were in the way, but I do agree that it is easy to see the Mandalorian people as a threat regardless. And a fairly potent one at that, given how long they've managed to survive and prosper even with the numerous efforts to subdue and exterminate them and their culture."

He returned the nod and shifted slightly again, occupying a slightly more diplomatic stance.

"There is hardly any harm in listening to ideas. I shall still help you in the liberation of your people of course, as well as any others that have found themselves bound under the Mandalorian people. I am afraid that the only real assistance I can offer is that of my blade however, I have no assets to contribute. The current conflicts involving our empire will be my primary focus though, so I'm afraid I will only help on your crusade if there are no active battles or struggles. Still, I look forward to bringing justice to your people."

 

[Ulrich]

"Across life and death I think the only constant is war. That being said I'm sure there will be a lull in the carnage eventually, I can wait of course. What's the point in having a lifecycle that lasts centuries if you rush into everything?"

I open my wings and hold my hands out to encompass the palace around us.

"If you ever are in need of an army Alisteri I think I can help you with that. They are all around us even as we speak. Though most cannot see them or even hear their voices they wait ready for someone with the proper knowledge and training to call to them. I refer of course to the dead, our constant companions. The chance to embrace a facsimile of life once more even temporarily is enough to inspire loyalty in most spirits. Couple this with the potential for revenge on those who sent them to the stygian halls bellow and you have a recruitment drive more efficient than any propaganda scheme."

But even as I speak there is a crackle on my comms device.

"Calling all able bodied warriors a rogue sith fleet is approaching Malachor V. All loyalist Sith are to immediately set a course to Malachor V and prepare to defend our world from the rebels."

" Your words seem very prescient in light of these recent developments Alisteri. I suppose I may see you again soon on the field of battle. Do try not to shuffle of the mortal coil , I would prefer to have some allies amongst the living."

It takes three blows with my tail to collapse a hole in the wall of the Hutt's palace large enough to fit my considerable mass through. Out in the air I spread my wings and take to the skies. There was talk about the 'warlords of the sith' and a particular individual among them that I desired to meet under far less pleasant circumstances than what transpired here.

Darth Strosius