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Emperor Valyrian

Sith Emperor
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Emperor Valyrian last won the day on July 25

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About Emperor Valyrian

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    The Sith Emperor

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  1. The Knife Edge

    The dual Hands stood behind Valyrian, as he witnessed the destruction. It was to be expected of course - the clones were weak in the Force, weak willed and driven by pure primal motive. His voice in their mind told them to fight, to kill, to savage, and they enacted the orders without thought or reservation. They were the perfect amalgamation of his power, the perfect bodyguard - silent, obedient, and replaceable. For years his Royal Guard had been filled with the clones of himself, the hundreds of versions of his own body used to protect himself. Some might call it vain - Valyrian considered it merely strategic. Even if, by pure miracle of the Force, one of them became self-aware, they would be driven to protect itself anyway. It gave him an endless stream of potential new bodies to inhabit should his current one fail him. Darth Chiarcmorn looked at the battle with an impassive glance - yet behind his lack of emotion was true concern. His loyalty to Valyrian was hardly manufactured like the clones were, nor the bond that he had created with Darth Nidus, yet it was strong all the same. It was hardly love - not anymore - their love had ended many years ago when Valyrian was a younger man in soul and body, engaged in more frivilous affairs. Yet the loyalty remained, a deep insatiable bond, a hope that one day that the Emperor would return the affection with more than sexual favours. He spoke with a confidence, and personal touch that none other could, other than Niarcmorn, 'Valyrian, Atrox is cutting through the clones like they are made of nothing - they are nothing more than a distraction for him. You should leave immediately, destroy the complex, and kill him in the process. There is no purpose in this.' Valyrian said nothing, so Niarcmorn stepped forward, placing her hand on his arm gently, 'We can keep him distracted while you leave. It doesn't have to end here, not today, not with him. Your reign is not over yet, you can defeat him. It isn't heroic, it isn't courageous, but history will always remember you as the Emperor that survived. There are worse fates than that. Don't give in, don't give up. This is not the end.' 'I hadn't even managed to confront Vanessa yet, she will never know the truth,' Valyrian whispered to himself, and the two managed to miss it. Niarcmorn took her hand away from his arm, and behind him, they engaged in a kiss. A passionate one, as their hands draped over each others faces. It was more than a kiss - the lovers were more than just that. There was a deep spiritual bond between them that very few knew - it was only by happenstance that Valyrian even knew himself. Niarcmorn's hand rested on Chiarcmorn's chest for a moment, lingering as a small and silent tear escaped from her eyelid. They were two sides of the same coin, connected in spirit beyond words. Years before, Chiarcmorn was known by another name, and was fatally wounded in battle. Niarcmorn found him in the heat of it, and slayed the Jedi who had managed to slay her lover. Not content to let herself die, she foolishly enacted an archaic and forgotten Sith ritual. Her hand tore open, her blood mixed with his, she gave half of herself to him, in order for him to survive. And he did. Chiarcmorn almost instantly rose from his deathly wound, a deep scar over his heart from where the lightsaber had taken him. By ancient blood rites, she had saved his life, and so his life was dependent on hers. While she continued to breathe, he would. While her heart continued to beat, his would. Any wound that he felt, she felt too. Every sickness, every ailment, every wound. Their minds were one - connected in both spirit and mind. They could live the other side of the galaxy, and still be able to feel their presence as if it stood beside them. They took their Sith names that day, along with a third one - a united entity, of their combined power. Darth Akumorn. It was for this reason, and more, than he had selected them as his left and right hand. 'We are ready,' their voices said in unison. When they united, when their spirits became one, they were more aware, more adept and more powerful than either of them could ever be alone. Yet the weakness inherit in their skill and power was not to be taken lightly. Their kiss was truthful - it could be the last time. Valyrian feared it. Despite his facade, his emotionless faceless husk of power, he loved them both more than words could say - but his love would never compete with theirs. His connection would never be as much as theirs. And so, they fought for their love, and for him, out of true loyalty. How many had died because of him now? How many more were to die because of his inability to fight his own battles. And yet he did not deny them. They left the room and Valyrian kept his emotion sunk deep within. Darth Akumorn walked through the bodies of their Emperor, but did not look at their bloody mutilated faces. Darth Niarcmorn came first, her curved crimson blade hanging to her left, as Chiarmorn followed to the left. Darth Atrox stood in the centre of the great room, fighting the clones still - there were hundreds, waves of them descended on him, unrelenting, almost infinite in their appearance. Where the Sith would slay a dozen, more would rise. Crawling over the bodies of their fallen batch-mates to try and destroy the man they were sentenced to destroy. And for a second, the approaching armada of bodies, stopped. Silence descended. 'That is why he is Emperor, and you are simply a former Wrath,' Niarcmorn said, her voice high and echoing over the sound of battle, 'You fight your battles, while he orders those around him into battle. There is no reason it has to end now,' her final offer, 'You can still bend the knee, and we will let you live. We don't want to kill you, not truly. The Republic are doing a good enough job of it already.' 'You may have discovered his secret,' Chiarcmorn said, his voice coming from the other direction now, 'but that doesn't make you his enemy. Together, with your powers combined, the Republic stands no chance. Don't let this be the last of the Empire, don't let your pride and pursuit of power blind you to the truth. We can still win. The galaxy can still be ours. Bend the knee.' 'Bend the knee.' 'Bend the knee.' 'Bend the knee.' 'Or die.' And then the clones began to move, once more.
  2. The Knife Edge

    TWO WEEKS EARLIER The body of Darth Valyrian gave a sickening heave, a deep gasp of air, almost as if it had never taken breath of its own accord. And it was right - this body, hooked up to an array of cables, monitors and tubes, was one of thousands of the bodies that resided within his sanctuary on Bastion. A sanctuary he had begun construction of before the Empire had ever left Nogatan, a sanctuary so well hidden and isolated that its chances of discovery were almost impossible. Within it, a network of tunnels serviced his many thousands of clones, a gift from Darth Viscerus, left over from his experimentation on the virus that had once inhabited Valyrian's system. He didn't try to lurch up like he had the first time his essence had transferred into its new body - the body was not used to, or ready for immediate use, extra strain caused the muscles to tear and snap. He had torn many of the cables and tubes, tearing massive holes in his skin. It had been a painful and necessary lesson of his own mortality during his first twenty four hours, and so he made sure to control his natural impulse to move his stiff muscles. Darth Nidus stood over him examining the monitors attached to the cables, checking the readings, and finishing the process of staging his body for proper use. 'Is he dead?' Nidus asked with a raspy finality to her voice. She didn't turn to look at the Emperor though, merely looked at the monitors and generally ignored his person. Nidus, Kaar of Mysteries after the disappearance of Darth Renatus, may have been officially a subject of the Emperor, but as the mother of the Emperor, she generally paid it no heed in private. The subject of her maternal connection to the Emperor was not entirely well known - another present from the death of Viscerus. Valyrian gave a deep cough, 'No. The Force tells me...' 'You don't need the Force to know that Dromund Kaas is in siege,' Nidus finished for him, 'nor do you need it to know that the Empire is losing a sudden and crushing assault by Republic Forces. Its like they know how weak and disoriented we are - know exactly where to push, where to force and how to destroy us. In a moment of weakness, the Republic has shown up and annihilated us - all because of you,' she finally turned to look at him, her lifeless grey eyes staring directly into his, 'If you had killed C'erian like you had said, the Republic wouldn't be in a position to attack - they would be in mourning, unsure of what to do. Your failure has doomed us.' THE PRESENT The Sith Emperor watched the monitor, the display of the Republic Fleet hovering above. In the weeks since, he had quietly watched as his Empire was laid to rubble, with his brother leading the charge. Planet by planet, they scurged the Sith from the galaxy, destroying what they could, taking Sith out where and however possible. Whispers within Bastion called it the second Sith Holocaust, while Valyrian thought of it by a different name; The Eidolon Revenge. Darth Nidus had left him now, his condition had improved enough that he no longer required her presence to monitor him. He was at the best shape he had been for years, yet as he watched the devastation, he knew that one way or another, his reign was more or less over. He sensed the shift in the Force - the subtle change of focus, as the power slowly and inevitably drained away from him and into the hands of another. He felt no less powerful - the Force was his to command as it always had been, and he was no weaker, yet it was although the balance of power had shifted in an unseen way. He tried to meditate, but his visions were only filled with clouded shows of blood and fire, destruction and chaos, annihilation of everything and all. The Force was no longer his ally - and he was no longer the embodiment of it. The days had been long as he waited, and considered his actions. At first he considered rising into the frey to destroy the Republic singlehandedly, taking victory for himself. His visions of this chain of events ended in destruction, and humiliation. Then he considered rising back to command, taking the Imperial Armada and uniting it in a valiant effort against the Republic. This too, ended in destruction and humiliation. So he sat in his formidable fortress of steel, surrounded by the copies of himself, and wondered quietly if his reign, his tenure as Emperor, had been for anything at all, or was it destined to end the same way that every endevour he had ever started inevitably ended; in failure. He felt the rage of Darth Atrox long before he felt the Sith's presence on Bastion. In his heart of hearts, he had always known it would be the former Emperor's Wrath that would come for him, that would have the tenacity and strength of will to find him. The Sith's focus was incredible, his power intense, his rage like an inferno of energy that resounded off him. Power worthy of an Emperor, perhaps, if there was an Empire left to rule in the fragments of his disorted reign. He heard the man smash his way into his fortress, buckling the entrance, but Valyrian did not rush to his feet and sound the alarm. Instead he picked up the blade he had laid out on the table beside his chair calmly, and clipped it to his belt. He stepped up slowly, taking the black robe that had been hanging over the back of his chair and clipping it to his person. Faintly in the background he heard the hum of the active lightsaber, so he grabbed the mask which was set out delicately on the table in front of him, and pressed it against his face - taking on the full attire of the Royal Guard. Each of these tasks he did methodically, carefully, and with no rush. There was no point in a dramatic rush, only to be taken down by an errant strike of a blade. Instead he quietly reached out to the Force, and activated all of his clones. Each pod sprung to life with a snap of energy - and immediately, Valyrian echoed deep into the Force, his powers spreading out like an inferno of power, so loud and beautiful that within the confines of this building, it would be almost impossible to find the centre, where the power was most powerful. Around the Kaar, hundreds of eyes sudden rose, and rushed at the Kaar - as the Emperor exerted his will over the living. The Royal Guard, a full platoon of them which had been laying in wait in the central command of the fortress, similarly began to stir and move towards their foe. Valyrian stood watching however - not rushing towards death like a fool, instead looking at the computer monitor in front of him, and using his senses to find his target. Pressing down a button on his console, the speakers echoed into life. 'I see you have uncovered my secret fortress - it was to be expected, of course. I always expected a challenge of power from you - though I expected it long before the Empire was a desolate fragment of its former glory. I will not be Emperor of the ashes. If it is fight you want, I will provide it, but I will not give you the satisfaction of fighting on your terms. I've fought enough Kaggaths, I've killed enough Dark Lord's, to know that honourable combat is worthless. Victory, at any cost.' Valyrian let go of the speaker, his voice echoing into the recesses of the lair, as his horde descended on the Kaar. Holding vibro-blades, lightsabers, axes and any weapon they could find, the clones of Darth Valyrian descended on the Kaar. And there were hundreds of eyes.
  3. The Knife Edge

    REPUBLIC SENATE Supreme Chancellor's Office The clash of lightsabers sounded through the room, as the colours of red and blue illuminated the darkness. Behind the mask, Sefas' brow began to sweat, the blue blade slashing through the red cloak that encompassed him, tearing it from his body, letting it float to the ground with a flurry of colour. He pushed the advantage - using a short Force Push to push the fabric over the Chancellor's body, and give him a momentary advantage. Leaping over, his lightsaber burned through the carpet, clashing at the Chancellor from behind. But, he wasn't quick enough. The Chancellor slashed back, the first of his twin blades hitting Sefas' extended blade, the second cutting around from the other direction, forcing Sefas to duck quickly out of the way, and throw the Chancellor against the wall with the Force. He extended his hand with a flurry of lightning, the Chancellor using his lightsaber to block the oncoming current. He breathed deep into his mask, the oxygen in his system helping him keep focus, despite the chaos he had created. C'erian Eidolon, Grand Master and Supreme Chancellor would not be an easy foe to take down, and Sefas had never thought it would be. These two had battled blades before. It had been many years earlier, but even back then, the former servant had matched him blow for blow. Although their styles had changed, the masks and titles they wore were different, each blow was matched. Every parry had a counter, each to a fro. The twin's were too well adjusted for one another - and yet Sefas had to try. He pressed his luck, lifting his hand to crush his opponent in a deadly Force Crush. Hatred poured from every pore in his body, his mind focused on the complete and utter destruction of the Grand Master, of his twin. Yet there was a sudden loss, as the Grand Master gave a burst of energy, blowing everything in the room away. A massive repulse of energy, the objects in the rooms became projectiles, smashing walls apart, and shattering glass. But there would be nobody coming to save them. His Crush was immediately suspended, as he too was forced hard into the wall, the cheap interior wall cracking against him, propelled into the adjacent corridor, and smashing into the second wall. Winded slightly, the Grand Master crawled through the hole, his weapon drawn, pointed down at the Sith Assassin, 'Who are you?' For a moment, Sefas gave no reply, his mechanical sounding breathing echoing out the mouthpiece. Even with his resistance, there were limits to the human body. He smiled, his head down, as he focused his senses outwards, finding his saber, and summoning it. The Grand Master leapt into the air, narrowly missing the blade, parrying it lightly as it entered Sefas' outstretched hand, who immediately leaped up to strike the Grand Master again. The attack never landed - the Grand Master no longer fooled, as he quickly spun his twin blades, parrying the mark with one hand, taking the arm with the other. The lightsaber landed on the ground as Sefas screamed through his mask. He threw the Grand Master away with his other hand, unleashing a huge bolt of lightning towards him. Not taking this, the Grand Master focused his energies on Sefas, using the powers of breach to momentarily cut the others power with the Force. The lightning subdued, and the assassin fell to the ground in agony. C'erian stepped forward gingerly, stepping over rubble and broken objects as he did. He spun his lightsaber down into the mask of the would be assassin, and once again asked. 'Who are you?' The self named Lord Sefas gave a chuckle in almost cracked determination, 'Don't you recognize the face of your own brother. Its been a long time, but surely,' he said, the mask giving a hiss of air as it moved, his working hand unfastening the clips, letting it fall from him face. Emperor Valyrian gave a chuckle, looking at his twin for the first time in years, 'surely you wouldn't forget this face.'
  4. And Then The Murders Began

    From the top of this particular building, Lord Sefas could see the Senate Tower in full and detailed view. It was a remarkable landmark, impossible to miss, almost as large as the ego's within, the Senate Tower was perhaps the most heavily fortified and protected building within the entire planet, if not the entirety of Republic Space. It stood as a testament of the Republic's strength and resilience, a virtue of its dedication and hope, and served as home to both the denizens of the Senate, and the Headquarters of the Jedi Order. The ruins of the Jedi Temple were still unsuitable for full time use, so the Jedi resided here. It helped, now that the Supreme Chancellor and the Grand Master were one and the same. It was a move that shocked millions, revolted thousands, and drew much controversy to the first sitting term of the Supreme Chancellor's time in office. The Galactic Senate had installed him as Grand Master - against Jedi protocol - to ensure that the Order was kept secure and to ensure that leadership within the Order was transferred to someone who could be trusted. The Jedi had so much power, that nothing except the most clearly vetted individual in the Republic could even possibly hope to obtain the highest rank within the Jedi Order. And so, C'erian Eidolon, his brother, was appointed. It was a plot twist that Sefas could never have anticipated in his most wild of imaginings. The bittersweet touch of irony felt cool on his skin. Beneath his armour, it was almost impossible to know whether Lord Sefas was smiling. So withdrawn from the Force, he had become a silent entity of fear within the Republic within recent months. Silent killings - random targets, sewing fear into the heart of the political capital, distracting them. His movements were not random, but calculated. His targets moved further and further away from the center of Republic governance, but the details grew more gruesome in results. Victims were torn apart, sliced into pieces, their bodies suspended in the air and their skulls imploded. Each murder was unique, each murder made the Jedi search for him all the more important. Seventeen patrols of Jedi had been dispatched from the Senate protection in order to hunt for him, and so far, none had even glimpsed his power. Until now. He dropped from the building, his signature in the Force silent as he repressed his alignment, yet he cushioned the landing with a soft and quiet rush of power. A group of three Jedi had followed a lead deep into the heart of a factory. Each of them holding their lightsabers, inactive, but ready, the kill was almost too perfect. He hadn't seen a Jedi up close since he had arrived on Coruscant - daring to go close to the Temple itself to examine the feat that the former Emperor had enacted upon its most ancient halls. So desolate and destroyed, yet the Jedi still flocked to the area like rats. It was beautiful and haunting at the same time - but he had resisted the urge to walk in further and take a real look. The three Jedi separated, going down different corridors. Beneath his mask, he smiled deeply, allowing himself to flex his fingers. His footsteps silent, he stalked the first of his prey. A younger one - perhaps barely a Knight, there was an arrogance to his posture. A want to prove himself. The Jedi had likely never been sent on assignment before, and now, he had the perfect opportunity to prove that his devotion to the Order was true. Sefas walked quietly behind him, crouching behind a corner as the young man turned his head around - likely feeling something wrong. A warning in the Force. The young man at least was observant. Sefas stepped out of the shadow, and pried his lightsaber from his waist. As the young Jedi examined his datapad, Lord Sefas quickly activated the blade directly into the back of the Jedi, severing his spinal chord, and piercing his heart. He fell like a sack of potato's, without a single gasp, but the other Jedi were already aware. Running, the snap-hiss of the two aqua blades illuminated the corridor. Sefas activated his almost lazily, using his showmanship to block the oncoming onslaught, as each of the pair tried to avenge their fellow Jedi. With a single hand, Sefas parried one particular flurry, using the Force to throw the pair backwards the wall. The Jedi struggled - but they were no Masters in the Force, and they were no match for his power. They were no comparison to Sefas' power, his experience, and his darkness, not the power of the Emperor. For a moment, he let his guard down, and exposed the pair to his true power - to his darkness. The shock was only short lived, as he pushed his consciousness onto theirs, corrupting their minds, burning their souls from the inside out. They screamed in anguish, as the part inside of them that was once Jedi, that was once good was burned out. Corrupted, burned, turned into mere puppets. These two Jedi would serve as a single message to the Republic. 'Even the Jedi cannot be trusted.' Sefas whispered quietly. And his new minions obeyed.
  5. And Then The Murders Began

    The first happened late after the closing hours of the local café, in the heart of Coruscant. A small building, often packed with customers, with a reputation as one of the best caf you could buy at a reasonable price, just outside of the Senate District. It had shut just a few hours earlier, and the wait-staff had all left, leaving only the middle-aged owner to lock up shop. It was well after dark now, the globe in the light of the alleyway behind the shop had blown a few months back, and had still not been replaced by the District Council, despite her numerous calls. Most nights, she could see well enough to find her way to her transport – but that night, a thick cover of smoke from a nearby fire had blocked out most of the natural light. This area of the district wasn’t generally dangerous, but there had been vandals in the area of late, so Marie had bought herself a small personal blaster, that was neatly hidden away in her purse. Marie shut the back door to her café with a solid click, testing the doorknob to make sure she had remembered to lock it - something that she had always done, since an unfortunate incident at her neighbours apartment, when they had forgotten to simply lock the door. They had lost everything – priceless jewellery, all of their technology, and all the cash that they had been saving in a shoebox in the cupboard. So she double checked the door. Better to be safe than sorry. She didn’t need a torch, despite the darkness. She knew the way to her shuttle like the back of her hand, she had walked this path for seventeen years. She fumbled with the keys in her bag, hearing the familiar jingle in the bottom of her bag, but couldn’t quite feel them. A purse, a datapad, and scraps of paper, along with a pair of sunglasses, but the keys had formed themselves into a nook in the corner, just out of her reach. She gave a familiar sigh, pulling the bag from her shoulder, putting it in front of her. Despite not being able to see it, it was easier to feel. The smoke cleared for a second – a faint ray of light shining through the darkness, illuminating the man. Her bag fell to the ground with a solid thud, as the masked man glared through his helmet toward her. His shiny metal armour enveloped him, finely crafted to suit him. A red cape wrapped around his neck, and covered his head, the cowl covering any detail she might have ordinarily seen. She screamed as her murderer launched at her, the lightsaber in his hand activating for just a second, the snap-hiss echoing down the alley for a second, before being extinguished soon after. The blade appeared almost to be on fire – and upon further inspection of the body, the clothes around the chest wound appeared to, at least for a second, have caught alight. There were no witnesses to the attack, but it was understood that her scream was short, and loud. The first responder – a student who had been traveling home, didn’t see the murderer, but he had heard the scream, and the familiar sound of a lightsaber. Marie’s shuttle was later found discarded in an unused building in the Factory District, with all video-surveillance of the area either removed or corrupted. However, in the moment of light, just before the murder, camera’s were able to obtain a brief, yet definitive picture of the assailant in the alleyway, standing between Marie and her shuttle, the curved blade in hand. Coruscant Security Force are seeking anyone with information on the incident, or information on the attached sketch of the assailant, to contact them immediately with information. All information will be regarded with confidentiality, and all information will be taken seriously. ARTISTS IMPRESSION OF ATTACKER Please forward all information directly to Coruscant Security Force
  6. The Sith Emperor

    CHARACTER SHEET Force Powers Enhancement Force Jump → Force Leap Force Body Force Rage Restoration Force Invigorate → Force Infuse → Force Innervate → Force Preserve Crucitorn Protection Force Stealth → Force Concealment Astral Force Sense → Force Sight → Force Empathy → Force Vision Telepathy Perception Force Fear → Force Insanity → Force Corrupt Tear Knowledge Psychokinesis Telekinesis: Master Cyrokinesis: Master Force Push → Force Whirlwind → Force Wave → Force Repulse Lightsaber Throw Novice Telekinetic Combat → Intermediate Telekinetic Combat Force Wound → Force Choke → Force Grip → Force Crush Environment Deadly Sight Drain Life → Drain Force → Death Field Force Slow → Force Poison → Force Plague Force Combustion → Force Destruction Force Shock → Force Lightning → Chain Lightning → Force Storm Force Alchemy Necromancy Rare Force Powers Essence Transfer Skills Melee Combat Novice Bladed Weapon Lightsabers Novice Single Saber → Expert Single Saber Form I Novice Shii-Cho → Form I Intermediate Shii-Cho → Form I Expert Shii-Cho Form II Novice Makashi → Form II Intermediate Makashi → Form II Expert Makashi Form VI Novice Niman → Form VI Intermediate Niman → Form VI Expert Niman Pilotting Heavy Freighter Proficiency Personal Starship Proficiency Medical Novice Biosurge → Intermediate Biosurge Novice Biochem → Intermediate Biochem → Expert Biochem Novice Torture → Intermediate Torture → Expert Torture Old Sheet
  7. The Sith Emperor

    HISTORY »Dark Beginnings Born in the year 3672 BBY on the far-unexplored world of Taral V, the young son of Lord Styfe, the second-in-command of a secretive Sith cult known as The Hidden, was not given a name. Under the customs of his family, the young boy was to be nameless for two years, in order to teach him the values of a name, and impeach upon the spirits of the ancestral line, that this boy was worthy of it. Despite this, his mother, Aireen, secretly gave him a name that she would call him when Lord Stryfe was out of earshot. Although an old and ancient family tradition, at the age of two, he was formally given the name of Atrumcavus, to the blessings of the Sith Master - a mysterious leader, who only ever corresponded with Lord Stryfe through private and secure messengers. Shortly thereafter, Aireen disappeared from the temple on Taral V with no trace. He would not see his mother again for many years thereafter. Atrumcavus was taught the secrets of the Order, its long line of heritage recording the history of the Sith Order's, from the first Dark Jedi on Korriban to Vitaite's New Order, from an unbiased and impartial perspective. Often as spies, infiltrating the very core of the Order, the members would record as much information as they could, helping to create an almanac of Sith information unlike any the galaxy had seen before. The Sith Master, who remained unseen, was themselves disposed in some secret intelligence, with Lord Stryfe acting as the figurehead of the Order from the strange comforts of Taral V. From an early age, he was fond of another young recruit of the Order, known as Sephira. The two had an almost inseparable bond from the first moment, and the two courted from an early age - as was expected. Atrumcavus was the second son of Styfe, so not destined to inherit anything of importance, so Stryfe ignored the young romance and let it flower. It wasn't until the first mission the pair were sent on, after they both were granted the hallowed title of Lord, that Sephira would accidentally fall pregnant. When Sephira discovered, she turned to Stryfe who sent her away for the duration, and made Atrumcavus' love promise to never speak of it to him. Once she returned, their romance was never the same - and Atrumcavus knew something was wrong. Soon after, he requested to be assigned permanently to Nogatan to monitor a fledgling Sith Empire on the borders of Sith Space. Knowing the truth, Lord Stryfe agreed, purchasing a manor on the outskirts of town that would prove to be his primary residence on the planet. Though the romance never ceased between them, Atrumcavus began to grow bitter over the lost intimacy. In his rage, he turned to alchemetic Sith sciences, ultimately succeeding in the creation of a Sith abomination - a flesh body for an ancient Sith Spirit by the name of Eris. After his success, or as he called it failure, he turned to Dathomir. Seeking a Force Nexus there, he began to grow more powerful as he tried to drain the planet. With his failed Sith experiments behind him, and his romance with Sephira at an end, Atrumcavus plotted to annihilate the galaxy by drawing all the power of the Force through a single nexus. Though it might never have succeeded, this madness had to be stopped, and so the Sith Cult stepped in to bring him down. Knowing the madness could never be contained, they utilized an untested Sith Ritual, forcing the spirit of Atrumcavus out of his body, and creating a new identity for the man that was left behind. He would have a purpose, to study and document the Empire forming on Nogatan, as he originally intended. With a false backstory, to ensure that the pathways to the old spirit could never be returned, the new man Denael Turrin was thrown into the gutters of Nogatan as a street rat. ▬ Nogatan Denael Turrin arrived at the Academy Recruitment Centre, and was immediately put through his paces in the Imperial Academy. First under Trase Scarden, he was sent on an assignment to track down a Weapons Trafficker. After the success of this mission, he was sent to the Academy Commander Darth Cideon, who forced him to undertake one on one combat with a fellow Academy recruit, a Chiss by the name of Trask. He lost the fight, but was awarded with graduation of the Academy, and placed into the Rising Phoenix Squadron, under Symoria. The young man seemed completely convinced about the lie that was his past, but somewhat un-talented in the Force. His early powers were weak, showing little potential. He was sent on a mission shortly thereafter to Dathomir, on behalf of the Academy Commander. Him and his squadron, lead by the Instructor he had weeks before been party to, were attacked and fought native civilians on the planets surface. Denael quickly began to sense a presence in the Force that latched itself immediately on him. Atrumcavus, the discarded spirit, had come back to Dathomir, drawn by its power and confused by the process which had forced him from his body. He convinced Denael to go to the Nexus - taking control of the latters body. Once there, he revealed himself as a disembodied Sith Spirit, and convinced Denael to allow him to be his virtual Master, residing at the back of his mind. This action should have killed Denael, but because they were the same essence, the body allowed it. Ultimately, the mission on Dathomir was a failure, but Denael was now host to a virtual Master, who mocked him at almost every turn. After his episode on Dathomir, Denael found himself in the Sith Temple, finding a librarian by the name of Verrin, and asking for more information on the medical sciences. Given a stack of papers to read, and told he would need to study hard in the medical profession, Denael persevered, returning to the librarian some time after for more. Verrin reciprocated, imparting the knowledge of "Dark Transfer" on the young mind. It was information he would use to later learn the skill of Crucitorn and create a future of medical knowledge for him. He advanced quickly thereafter, within the Military, preferring the medical side. It didn't take long for him to take an office as Medical Superintendent of the Lake Vires Medical Facility, his first real office of note - even if it was a janitors closet. Thereafter, Atrumcavus began to grow impatient, and petulant. While in the company of a growing ally, Nakiya and Jesck, Atrumcavus took full possession of Denael and took them all back to Dathomir, where he hoped his possession would be able to become permanent, and the bonds which had torn him out, could be destroyed. Denael began to learn the truth of his life, the lie of a street rat, and what he had truly been. Those that played the parts of actors around him appeared to him as traitors - and in his rage, he murdered Sephira, his love in both reality and fiction. He then murdered his older brother, and his father, before Nakiya trapped the spirit of Atrumcavus inside a vibro-rapier. With the canopy of the Nexus Temple burning around them, they all left Dathomir - with Nakiya taking the mentally scarred Denael as her Sith Apprentice. TBC
  8. The Sith Emperor

    BIOGRAPHY Name: Darth Valyrian (aka; Atrumcavus, Denael Turrin, Lucian Eidolon, Darth Valerian and Lord Sefas) Gender: Male Species: Human Date of Birth: 3672 BBY Appearance: Darth Valyrian is considered to be a fairly frail man, of less than average height. Since his genetic manipulation however with the cloning processes on Bastion, Valyrian stands at a more impressive six feet two inches. His almost trademarked long white hair is usually left to flow around his shoulders, or is tied up behind for more formal and ceremonial events. In public, Valyrian supports a cane, a feature that he has used since the battle with Darth Ferreus to claim the seat of Emperor - his face is visibly aged and the necrosis of the body has seemingly set in permanently. Since his withdrawal from public, he has donned a full set of amour, with face-plate and long red cape, along with his moniker as Lord Sefas. His eyes both have a black glow which seems to fade in and out depending on how much he is drawing from the Dark Side at the given time. Personality: Darth Valyrian is a private person, keeping his emotions and weaknesses as private and secluded as possible. All foray's into romance have ended with betrayal or heartbreak, so much of that part of his life has been removed from his being, instead seeking the desires of the flesh rather than of the heart. His pursuit of power took him to the brink of destruction, as his body failed around him, so immersed in the Force, he became the very embodiment of it. Now, he has chosen to withdraw from the public role of Emperor, instead playing the cards from the sidelines, under the secret monikers he created using the Imperial Systems that he and his most trusted minions control. From this position, he can interact, and enact his own agenda outside of the view of Imperial Leadership, following the umbrella of the Sphere of Mysteries. His relationships are few and far between, preferring his own company, and that of his few trusted advisors. Skills, Abilities and Talents: Valyrian is by no means the most powerful Force User to ever grace the halls of Dromund Kaas, but his power and influence have grown significantly over the last few years, since his ascension to the position of Lord Regent and ultimately, becoming the Emperor himself. One of his more useful talents, the ability to drain the life from his victim, has benefited Valerian to no end, as the corruption inflicted from the Dark Side wrecked havoc on his body. He is a skilled expert in both Form I and Form II, using the finesse dueling to his advantage. He was once described as being a figure of "Offensive Defense". Valerian was also once finely trained in the art of torture and extracting information from unwilling subjects, and is well trained in scientific processes. Speech: Valerian's voice has been deepened by the dark side and the extent of his corruption, and is considered fairly rasping with a deep bass to it. When angered, his voice has been known to become fairly piercing, with a deep rumbling tuned through the force, and the corruption on his vocal chords. Usually, however, he speaks with a fairly even tone, which may be considered melodic in character. Although not wise in himself, his voice gives him an aura of wisdom, an aged voice to make him appear as though he has a lifetime of experience. Languages: Valerian can read, write and speak both Galactic Basic and Ancient Sith languages. He studied for some time on the Ancient Sith language with a tome from Lord Verrin, and during his exile outside of the galaxy. Possessions Lightsaber Darth Valyrian's lightsaber is a unique item, stolen from a rival Sith Lord during adventures in a long distant and undiscovered system well beyond the reaches of the Unknown Regions. With a curved handle to suit his talent with Makashi, the blade is lined with stained black bands from top to bottom, with a red glowing band around the activator switch and around the blades end. Valyrian further customized it after he assumed the position of Lord Regent, he adapted the blade so it could be clipped seamlessly into a cane, utilizing the natural curve of the blade to act as the handle. He added a Qixoni Crystal of Blood Red colour to the saber, and retrieved a Barab Ingot. The Ingot which was given as a gift by one of the Emperor's Hands, was never installed into the lightsaber. Though he planned on adding it later. Lord Sefas' Lightsaber After his withdrawal, Valyrian constructed a second lightsaber that would serve as his primary weapon under the guise of the masked assassin. This one was a more solid design, utilizing the curved hilt he was familiar with, but with few embellishments over the smooth case. Polished finely, it was left a dark metallic colour, with the Barab Ingot added, to give the active blade a fiery appearance and manner. The blade was a standard synthesised crimson colour, making it, apart from its flamed appearance, almost indistinguishable from any other Sith. Lord Sefas' Armor Unlike the persona of Valyrian, Lord Sefas is always seen in a full set of armor with a full mask. With a lining of Sithspawn Leather, Valyrian had constructed a full Phrik set of armor, with the head virtually smooth with a nose ridge visible, and a pattern embossed lightly and faintly on the top. The armour itself is lightweight, but strong, sporting a full emergency oxygen reserve and HUD modification. Constructed for his new genetic template, which is slightly taller than Valyrian was known to be, the armor adds another few inches of height by pure design. Over the top of the armour, is a red cloak and cape switch wraps around his neck, by does not reach the ground. The cape behind reaches the back of his knees, while the cloak only covers his neck and shoulders with a cowl covering much of the faceplate. The Emperor's Chambers Although it can be said that the entire Empire is the domain of the Emperor, the top twelve floors of the Sith Sanctum in the Imperial Citadel are designed exclusively for the Emperor's personal residence when upon Dromund Kaas. With a plethora of gathering places, chambers, a large private library of collected Sith works and his sleeping chambers, the Emperor's Chambers also host the Dark Honour Guard offices and barracks. Entry into the Emperor's Chambers is by explicit permission only, with the premises highly guarded day and night by a platoon of Guards, even when the Emperor is not residing there. Bastion Cloning Facility Constructed silently during his stay overseeing the construction of what was going to be the new homeworld of the Empire, the Cloning Facility is an extension of Darth Viscerus' former assets, moved slowly and quietly to the far-off world. It is overseen by virtual assistant SIS, but is monitored internally by the Dark Honour Guard. It is almost impossible to scan, since its design was created to make it as hidden as possible from the rest of the Empire, with the entrances virtually impossible to find unless you know they are there. It is a high consumer of power though, which is why it was located directly beneath one of the main power generators of the planet. 'Unknown Citadel' A Citadel located on a not-yet-revealed planet that the Sphere of Mysteries and other underlings of the Sith Emperor reside. This planet has been kept secret from all Imperial channels, with permission to access the planet given only by official Mysteries Shuttle, with no planet designation or map-chart provided to any visitors on pain of death. The Citadel is home to a great many Sith artifacts of unknown or unknowable power.
  9. The Sith Emperor

    DARTH VALYRIAN -The Sith Emperor - General Biography History and Timeline Character Sheet
  10. Congregation of the Damned

    The twin links of the Emperor's Hands were something that ordinarily was easy to miss. Except now, visible, they appeared before the Council openly and without the guises or shadows that ordinarily followed them. To be seen in full view of the Council was something that Valyrian had never envisioned, nor intended, yet his plans all depended on them to act in this most uninspired fashion. As such, the two were almost lost in the current environment, not overwhelmed with power, but responsibility. To act in public, in the Emperor's name was almost sacrilegious of their duty, their roles as the Emperor's secret eyes and ears now entirely burned. They could not act in the shadows of the Empire, if the Council knew who they were. They could not breath in the darkness, if the light shone on them plainly. There was no hiding who they were - all they had now was the secrets, the duties, and the word of the Emperor to fall back on. The office of the Hands of the Emperor would act in unison with the foremost powers of the Empire, rather than the shadows that protected the Empire from the chaos within. They stood in the Chambers of the few more powerful members of the Empire, those who posed more of a threat to the Emperor and his position if they turned their ambitions the right direction, than the Republic or the Jedi ever could. Individually, the Hands were not the most powerful Sith - nor were they even the second most powerful. Individually, their power was quiet, and balanced. Yet together, the two halves of the same whole, both Darth Chiarcmorn, and Darth Niarcmorn became a much more powerful entity - two halves of the same spirit, bonded in ancient Sith Rituals so old and forgotten that they had ceased to be rituals at all, and become no more than legend. By pure accident, fate or otherwise, together they created an individual more powerful than either of them could ever hope to be alone. The Hands of the Emperor - the individual servant of the Dark Side, and the servant of the Emperor. Darth Akumorn. The two Sith spoke in unison, their mouths moving at the same time. The soft feminine voice mashing with the quiet and cold masculine, created an echo through the chamber. The bond created between them was more than just the bond of father and daughter, or husband and wife. It was more than lovers, more than Master and Apprentice. It was an unspoken, unbreakable bond which had no definable terms. Whoever they had been before their union, whatever they might have become was irrelevant... together they were Darth Akumorn, alone they were nothing. 'The Empire will continue to thrive - as we continue down the path the Emperor has foreseen,' the pair said in unison, no delay between them, 'The Empire's stagnation has been temporary, but the war must come. Like the calm before the storm, the silence before the chaos, the war must resume. The eternal struggle between the Jedi and Sith must resume, the balance of the galaxy can only be obtained through the destruction of one side or the other. The Dark Side must prevail, but we must act first. Our Emperor is not the first to rule this Empire - and we are certain he will not be the last. We must ensure that his rule will be successful, despite him. It is our responsibility, as the Hands, and as the Senior members of the Council, to ensure that the Empire is victorious, and that the Dark Side succeeds. The politics of the Sith are irrelevant, the ruler of the Empire is irrelevant, all that matters is our continued victory over the Light. 'So long as we share this ambition to ensure the progress and success of the Empire, despite itself, our interests will be aligned. Naturally, we live in service of the Emperor Valyrian, and will fight to protect his standing and his rank as the highest among the Sith - but we do not do so at the cost of the Empire. The balance, as you say, must be upheld. And we, two, will ensure it is kept,' the voices stopped, the almost-trance over the two appeared to stop, as they looked at Atrox, then the others. There was an understanding here. There must be, in order for the Empire to succeed. Valyrian's plans were tantamount to this trust - this balance. His reign as the Emperor had not been long - nor did he anticipate it being unchallenged, especially now. His role as the true leader of the Empire had come to an end - the Empire now depended on the success of its parts.
  11. Congregation of the Damned

    Darth Nidus inclined her head, motioning to her entourage, and indeed Lord Sefas that it was time to leave. They would need to travel back to the home-world of the Sphere of Mysteries; no longer located on the planet of Dromund Kaas, due to the sensitivity of the operations they conducted. Quietly, and with his own approval, the Sphere had moved their base of operations to a recently rediscovered world, known only by its moniker as the Mysteries planet of operation. Private shuttles run by the Sphere itself ran with no particular schedule from Dromund Kaas, and other planets within the Empire, on paths which followed no routine and often went in circles until their destination was reached. The true location of the Mysteries locale was considered an Imperial secret, kept so high that only the Emperor, his Hands, and the Kaar of Mysteries were truly in the loop. Sefas felt strangely odd to be leaving the room in one of the first delegations, leaving Darth Atrox to his will. He looked briefly, but not with any true intent at his two Hands, who stood back from the Kaar of Military Defense privately watching. Darth Niarcmorn inclined her head slightly, but not noticeably, a signal that only he would see. Even if anyone else noticed, the move was so slight that it could have marked anything. Sefas turned away from his Hands - the Emperor's Hands, and followed the woman he was meant to belong to, out of the room. Her delegation included only him and another masked individual - one of the Dark Honor Guard in different garbs. Lord Sefas found the entire thing unsettling, but also relaxing. For the time being, he didn't need to run his Empire - he didn't even need worry about its direction; his Hands would ensure the wheel kept spinning, while Darth Atrox amused himself by considering himself its ruler. Darth Atrox. As much as he trusted his Kaar of Military Defense to rule his Empire in his stead, he was concerned. Power was very easy to accept, and very hard to let go. The man had practically seated him as Emperor, back in the days after Cideon's disappearance, and had asked for only a seat on his Council. He, the Emperor's Wrath, the most powerful individual in the Empire politically other than the Emperor himself, had taken a demotion in exchange for Valyrian's rise. He hadn't questioned it much then, but in the days since Ferreus had been destroyed, and the former Wrath had transferred his grip from Sith Philosophy to Military Defense, the Emperor had some concern. He was a formidable fellow - and smart. He would not risk breaking apart the Empire to take the throne, but... he had been given the touch of power, then and now. He gave it up before, whether he did again remained to be seen. He however, let the problem fade into the back of his mind. His Hands would keep him apprised, and if Darth Atrox remained to become a problem in the future... then the Force would have its way, one way or another.
  12. Congregation of the Damned

    Sefas glanced over at Darth Lyran, who sat silent on the other side of the table, his eyes passing from one speaker to the next without word or complaint. For a moment, he felt almost sorry for the Pureblood, who had stood by his side for years during his rise to power, and loyally during his reign. Including him, or not, had been a difficult question to answer when he had begun the preparations to move out of the Citadel, into his new role, and after much consultation and meditation in the Force, he had decided not to include him. For all intents and purposes, Darth Lyran was as remiss about the whole situation as the rest, although his ego was bruised from Valyrian's absence without notification. His anger, simmering under the surface, showed him all he needed to see. Although he did not regret his decision, Darth Lyran would hold this over him for quite some time yet. Finally though, the Pureblood broke his silence, 'The Academy stands ready - we have been pushing recruits through faster than ever. Our steadfast resolve however, does not waver. This is the only course of action we can take - an attack on a Republic core world is suicide - but, if the assassins of Mysteries are already well placed, and the stratagems are available, then a... there is no other word for it... terrorist attack on Coruscant would be a valuable tool for the Imperial News Network - to show the weakness of the Republic, and the corruption from within. We can utilize this to convert, subtly, more worlds to the cause. With the assistance of the other Spheres. My personal fleets are available as required, as the Emperor would have me do.' Sefas looked back as Nidus, who sat back in her chair, 'If you would have me, the assassins I have employed have a select window of opportunity. We cannot wait too long, or the Republic may find the vulnerabilities in their systems, and safeguard against them. If the Congregation approves for my Sphere to begin making the moves - a yes or no decision must be made, and cannot be reversed once made - various Spheres and members of the Council will be contacted privately, on my or the Emperor's instruction, on what we will require. Any request we make will be reasonable, and must be answered. A failure by any party, of any rank, to submit to the plans and mechanations that Darth Valyrian himself set down with me before his withdrawal, will result in a catalysmic failure. Although we can agree that our Emperor is not a cruel, or intimidating man, I know his power. I would not wish to disappoint him.' Sefas grinned underneath his mask - there would only be a few contacted, such as the Mand'alor. Personal favours that he would need to put in place, to ensure that he was protected, and safe. Darth Nidus spoke truths, but not the whole truth. The assassins were not in place yet - but the vulnerabilities had been discovered by Sith Intelligence. As soon as they had the approval, they would begin to put in place a variety of sub-systems, to ensure that the Republic was distracted. A Fleet attack, a suicide attack on the other side of Coruscant, a system of virus' into the system and.... Darth Valyrian. Sefas himself would travel to Coruscant, and he would be the one that would execute the targeted terror attack on the centre of the Senate. None would resist him. And they would never know he was coming.
  13. Bloodlines

    Despite her words to the contrary, Sefas knew that he had obtained at least a sliver of a chance with Vanessa. Lord Verrin might not suspect - nor would he have reason to suspect anything suspicious about it - especially after he called her 'his latest attempt at a legacy'. He had invested a great deal of effort into this apprentice - the file he had read on the two active apprentices of his Kaar, had been quite specific on the details of the effort he had taken, going to Korriban to retrieve them - and that effort would be rewarded in kind if she managed to survive her apprenticeship. The file, much like the files he had on all of his members of the Council and their known associates, had a little bit of detail about Vanessa, involving murder and an arrest of some kind, but he had paid no attention to it. As Emperor it helped to know the names, but she had not been anyone of note... not until now. But, he took the win for now. He had no intention of traveling back into the Vault properly, having done it once before, and was glad to be formally excused from the Kaar of Ancient Knowledge's presence. Though it proved to him that even to strangers, the Kaar was relatively open, polite and welcoming. He had expected as much as loyalty from the Kaar to his Emperor, but to a subordinate of a rival Kaar? A stranger at that? The more he knew the man, the more he did not understand. The path Verrin had taken to get here had been long and winding, and though he did not seem ready or willing to give it up... he could see someone, even his daughter, rising up to break his trust. His politeness, formality and openness to discuss matters with strangers would one day prove to be his own undoing. He pulled a small datapad from his robes, and handed it to the Dark Lord, 'I just need you to authorize the transfer my Lord. Paperwork makes the Empire go around...' he said absently, knowing that once the data was retrieved, it would be archived directly into a sub-directory of the Mysteries system, only to be deleted in three weeks time. They didn't believe in holding onto paperwork like this. The transfer was complete, the artifact was no longer their concern, 'I would be grateful of that my Lord. I will be in contact shortly, to settle a time that Vanessa could visit the Sphere of Mysteries. I figure an introductory week examining the Sphere's operations would be a great way to showcase some of the things that we do - an open the door for future training exercises. Though the travel there and back is exhausting.' Mysteries had once been located on Dromund Kaas - but after the disappearance of the previous Kaar, Valyrian invested a great deal of funds towards moving the Sphere to a more unknown location. As it stood, not even the Council knew the exact system that the Sphere operated from, with only the Emperor and the Kaar of Mysteries directly informed on the planet of choice. Transport was available cby geo-locked shuttles, with passengers (generally operatives of Mysteries themselves, or guests of Darth Nidus) examined, and checked for locator beacons. All forms of technology were examined and treated before being allowed on board one of the shuttles, which then departed the Dromund Kaas system for its mysterious locale. Assassins, Valyrian had insisted, are better trained out of the eyes of the general populace. That, and the seeds of his own isolation had made such tactics necessary. No shuttle ever traveled the same route twice, with the journey sometimes taking longer than two weeks, or shorter than a week, depending on the travel path decided. Lord Sefas gave a bow, as Verrin presumably filled out the paperwork, his eyes lingering on the form of his daughter a moment, 'Thank you both, I will be in touch.' He turned, the few Guards that had traveled with him entering into the lift after him, going back the same way they had just come, the sight of the Kaar and his apprentice fading into the distance. Sefas smiled underneath his mask - and here he thought that this would be a routine trip. He laughed softly, and none of the Guards asked him why.
  14. Bloodlines

    Sefas watched Vanessa as she lowered her glance from his, looking then towards her Master as he asked a question. It was an odd sensation, being so close to the the young girl - scratch that - woman that he had for years dreamed of meeting. Years ago his ex lover, in a Force fueled vision in the heart of the Force Nexus that was the Maw in Nogatan, had told him of the child's existence. He had ignored it, considered it the ravings of the Maw itself, trying to mess with his mind. But... There was no doubt that she was his. The temper of her mother, the opinionated self indulgence that he himself had so often fought against... she was the splitting image of Brae, and he hadn't realized it until now. She lowered her head, presumably reaching out with the Force, following her Masters lesson, and feeling out into the Force to sense what it was that he wanted her to feel. Sefas knew what it was however - he had been here before, though under a different role. This place was a place of great power and potential, but he had ignored it for the greater power that lay in wait here. His motivates had been mostly political, but his scope of the holocrons had been his entire purpose. This is place should feel like a tomb, as Sefas reflected after his last visit. It was a place of such ancient power and feel that despite the building being relatively new, the facilities fresh and buoyant, the artifacts held here all mingled together in the Force to present an aura of age, experience, and above all power. If Vanessa was truly his daughter, she would be able to sense that. There was nothing to say how far in her training she was, however. That was another thing that had intrigued him. How had Vanessa found a Verrin of all people. The galaxy certainly wasn't that small. The Force certainly worked in mysterious ways. 'I sense... great power, Master,' she said, with the uncertainty of someone who did not expect what there was down here. It was likely she had never been down here, restricted in her knowledge, until she was ready. Sefas felt the tingle in the Force could feel he was being searched too, by her probing powers, 'I can sense, age, power... it feels like the facility on Ziost did. I can not explain it...' Sefas gave a chuckle beneath his mask, 'Bright spark you have, my Lord. The ability to sense power and ancient air leading to your Vault. Wherever did you find one with such potential,' he said, trying not to be sarcastic. He had to say it just right, 'I would love the opportunity to teach her some lessons myself.'
  15. Congregation of the Damned

    Darth Chiarcmorn, adorned in his typical long green robes, glanced quickly at Sefas as the Kaar of Military Defense offered the floor to them. Until this point, the Hands of the Emperor had been more or less ignored, much as they were during any other meeting. They both preferred to stand alone, innocuous in the background. Fewer within the Council had even seen their face, let alone knew their rank or title, knowing that they existed, and practically nothing more. Appearing now at this juncture was a rather unexpected surprise - destroying the secrecy that they had spent more than half a decade - long before Valyrian's ascent to the throne - creating. The eyes of the Council lingered on them, and their studious eyes penetrated into the depths of their appearance. Darth Chiarcmorn, his face still concealed by his green cloak, and Darth Niarcmorn, her long black hair and purple dress standing openly in the face of the Council, eminating the faux power that the Emperor had given them through rank and happenstance. Yet their glances couldn't penetrate through the veil, they couldn't see the secrets, nor influence that they had spent so long attuning. Codes within codes, proxies and hidden names emasculated their entire being. Chiarcmorn hid his face out of necessity, while Niarcmorn knew her face, while beautiful, would open the doors that his could not. A perfect pair, and only Sefas knew exactly how perfectly paired they were. Ritual bonding through Ancient Sith spells had created something unique within them, a force to be reckoned with, loyal only to him. To the Emperor. To Darth Valyrian. 'The Emperor left instructions in our care - and will continue to do so during his absence,' Niarcmorn said, her voice filling the room, 'His absence is out of necessity - his rule however, remains resolute. His words in this matter will be accepted, even if he can not be here to personally give them. The Dark Side is on his side - our side - and though the necrosis has taken him, he remains as powerful and resolute than ever. His power cannot be questioned, his mind sharper than ever. His body fails, a need for protection was discussed, and together, we decided that he should withdraw from the public, in order to protect himself, and ensure that the Empire still had a ruler worth leading. Watch his words.' She waved her hand toward the projector in the centre of the round desk that the Council traditionally sat. A hologram burst into life - the face of the Emperor appearing large and proud over the room, his body obscured from view. Every rivet of his face could be seen - every deep blemish and wrinkle appeared, the bags under his eyes deep and pronounced, as the flesh clung to the bond beneath. His eyes were sunken and red, withdrawn from the body, the gaps between flesh and eye completely visible through the gaps in the skin. His hair - that which could be seen, was thin and ragged. There was an unmistakable presence of tiredness which personified him, his skin pale and yet bruised and thin. His breath was laboured, pausing between words as he spoke, often running out of breath. A thin cord wrapped itself around his face, inserted into his thin nose for oxygen, and although obscured from view, the sound of medical devices working to keep his body alive could be heard in the background of his transmission. This was not a live recording - this was evident from his first word. Pre-recorded, and played at the perfect time, it was likely done at a moment of healthiness. Yet despite this, his eyes portrayed the same deadly power as ever, the Force rippled through him, his presence and power evident in his composure, despite his condition. 'It is no surprise that my condition has worsened.' He paused for breath, the words sinking in, 'The Dark Side has given me the power of the galaxy - but its costs are high, and the effort it takes to sustain the incredible power it has given me has become increasingly difficult. The injuries from my duel with Ferreus have continued to deteriorate, despite the best healing I could perform. Slowly disease, injury, and the sheer force of the Dark Side's will have eroded my body, continuing the path it begun years ago, forcing me to accept the limitations of my position. While my body decays, my spirit lives as powerful and alive as ever - but I can not longer sit in the tower of the Citadel with the protection of my Guard. I have taken steps to protect myself further, as I recover myself enough to rule this Empire from afar. My rule must continue, so through my Council, we must continue on the path we all began together when Cideon abandoned us.' The mention of the former Emperor always brought attention to the room, and for good reason - Cideon remained the greatest threat to the security of Valyrian's Empire, given his bond over the Council members who had existed at the time. But, that number was quickly depleted, leaving only a few in high position that could be sworn against him. For whatever reason, Cideon's name was enough to bring attention to their state of being, 'You may take my absence as weakness, however. You may even try to assume the Throne, and denounce me as Emperor. You may even win the support of the Council, in a show of energy and power - perhaps even rule for a time, winning support of the Empire as a whole. But do not assume that this would be without bloodshed and great loss, as we are distracted from our main goal. I am not dead, I am not missing, I am simply protecting myself from the necrosis that has weakened me. 'Dethroning me would only lead to a destabilization of the Empire, further necrosis of the Forces that were depleted during our last Civil War, as I am forced to retake the Empire by brute Force. Do not assume that I am any less powerful because I am absent from Dromund Kaas. I have grown more powerful since I assumed the throne, and those loyal to me will remain so. If you want my throne, if you feel that you can lead my Empire better than me... prove it, by destroying the Republic in my name. Don't forget the threat that they pose, that only through complete and absolute control of the galaxy can we achieve the goal of Order throughout the galaxy. 'We must win the war - but we will never do it by brute force and military might - we must do it through sheer conviction of mind, unity of thought and concentrated power. By becoming the face of Order, embodying the position Rightful Governance, by showing sure steady and fair use of Power, we can prove to the galaxy that we are not just an Empire of Sith, but a government worthy of Galactic recognition. We are corrupt, but we are honest about our fallacies, rather than the archaic failings of the Old Republic. By proving to the galaxy that we are the true heirs to the galaxy, ready to end the corruption and neglect of the Republic. 'We are the Empire. We must prevail. We must remain strong, vigilent, and above all above reproach. I have faith in my Council, in all of you, but I will maintain contact through my Hands, and privately in correspondence to ensure my will is completed, but I am certain that the plans in place, that the tactics being prepared, even now as I embark on my hiatus from the limelight, will ensure that the war will turn in my favour. May the Force,' Valyrian said finally, his words deep but encouraging, 'be with the Empire.' The transmission disappeared, and Lord Sefas gave a shudder. Nobody liked the sound of their own voice.