Lord Sefas

Sith Emperor
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Lord Sefas last won the day on May 10

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About Lord Sefas

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    Lord of Mysteries

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    (-6) Barab Ingot
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  1. 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 So withdrawn from the Force, he had become a silent entity of fear within the Republic within recent months.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.
  2. 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
  3. 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
  4. 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.
  5. DARTH VALYRIAN -The Sith Emperor - General Biography History and Timeline Character Sheet
  6. 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.
  7. 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.
  8. 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.
  9. 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.
  10. 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.'
  11. 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.
  12. Transfer of the item was not top of Sefas' list of objectives for this trip - but it was the centerpiece. For all people knew, Darth Nidus ran the Sphere of Mysteries from behind the veil, but it was truly Lord Sefas that acted as the eyes, ears and mouth of the Sphere since his departure from civilized society as Darth Valyrian. Nidus acquiesced all control to him - and while she stood as centerpiece, he was the Mastermind. Although this was a seemingly meaningless transfer, it was important to have him seen as a mere lackey of the sphere - forgotten easily, but considered thus. Even since the congregation of the Council, he tested the bounds of his hidden identity, enjoying being within arms reach of his Council, yet considered far away. It amused him. However, he had not expected to be fallen on by a young blonde haired lady. He caught her mid-fall, picking her up and holding her upright. It was only sensible. Yet... as his glove touched her, he felt something. A tingle in the Force, a deep calling from the deep. Something at the back of his mind stirred - and though his signature laid hidden beneath the veil, something else called. Something familiar. He looked in Verrin's direction, 'Your apprentice is more than welcome to join, but my Lord never informed me that she was to join - she was specific about who was to be involved in the transfer,' he paused for a second as he glanced in her direction, 'but I am willing to not mention her in my official debrief to Darth Nidus. I was always a sucker for a blonde.' Who are you? He thought. {{His mind focused on the intense calling in the back of his mind - and for a split second, he was torn away. A vision, brief and yet, clear burst into his mind, taking over his entire sensory field. He was no longer in the Library, no longer near the Vault, but in a room distant. There was screaming - crying, actually. Groaning echoed through all. There was a woman, blonde hair, laying on a bed, groaning in agony. For a moment it wasn't clear - the woman was just a mass of emotion, until he focused. It was a woman in labor - in the act of having a small child. She was not alone - there were some robed figures standing around observing. None of them held her hand or touched her meaningfully. They observed, clinically, cold. The woman screamed again - a final push, and the baby was exposed. A cold and clinical nurse took the child, and dealt with the unnecessary parts. They leaned down, placing the baby into mothers hands. She grasped at the child for a second - and he finally recognized her. Brae. His lover - a woman he had loved in a former life - a woman that he had killed in his path towards freedom from the chains that had bound him. She looked down at the child and with a look of hatred mixed with love, she whispered the babies name.... 'Vanessa.'}} He snapped back into reality. A few seconds had passed, but everything was so clear. To him, at least, it all made sense. The universe had a funny way of moving. Vanessa Sallin, apprentice of Verrin, and daughter of Valyrian, heir to the Empire.
  13. Darth Nidus gave a nod as she was spoken too - but she had no chance to respond to Sanguria's remark before Atrox dismissed the interplay. Sefas stood a few paces back from them, his smile masked underneath his helmet, his force signature mellow and silent. It was interesting to see how the Darth acted outside of the presence of the Emperor - but even still, with his trusted hands standing behind in the Kaar of Military Defense's shadow, he was not entirely absent. Sanguria was, in many respects, somewhat of an enigma to him. She had gained her seat on the Council by her acts during the Civil War, but he had never gotten to know much about her before her promotion. It was Darth Atrox's suggestion, and her own merit in the fact, but she remained distant to him. If she had ulterior motives, he could not guess them - nor her true motivations, aspirations or assertions. Her involvement with Defense was to the public, innocent, but Valyrian had never been a complete fool. Their alliance was bonded far deeper than public appearance would gather, but how deep was still not completely proven, except by innuendo and rumour. Nidus was more or less, ignored, other than by Sanguria. Which was not entirely surprising - she, out of all the Kaars, was the quietest in their goings about. Her duties required silence, her Sphere, as the name suggested, was more of an enigma. That left him in a valuable position of general anonymity - his deeds were sealed by Mystery, and so any figure could rise within the Sphere with zero ripples in the Sith populace, and remain completely hidden. He remained silent - it was not his place to act, speak or otherwise, however Atrox's comments required Nidus. This of course, was expected. Nidus' voice was not particularly loud - given her injuries, yet it sounded loud enough for the purpose, 'The Sphere of Mysteries stands ready - we have assassins in place across the galaxy, on expanded missions to infiltrate and lay in waiting. While I am not so certain of speaking so openly to the congregation - we have a plan in place to attack the center of the Republic, and break through some of the vulnerabilities that Sith Intelligence has exposed. A carefully laid plan has been formulated by some of my leading assassins, in order to create a pin-strike attack into Coruscant itself, and lays in wait until the order to execute it is given. If if is the will of the Council, we can begin setting the stage for this infiltration and execution within weeks. I will expose myself no further in present company.' If she had any more, she did not expose it in her gaze. Her eyes remained impassive as she yielded the floor. It was true - Sefas had been involved in its formulation before his decent into this role, and he was pivotal to ensuring it went down. Only key members of Intelligence, Mysteries and Defense were aware of it - in fact, the details of which were shared between the two other Spheres, with Mysteries the only one holding the key to the puzzle.
  14. Word around the Empire was that Darth Valyrian had withdrawn completely from active service - withdrawn to a place even the Dark Council did not know, or wish to reveal, to protect himself. It was said that his ailing condition, a condition known vicariously through the Empire as that of a frail and fragile old man, suffering from the injuries of the very fight that had given him the throne, had finally failed him, forcing him to withdraw from public affairs in order to find some way to restore himself. While on death's proverbial door, his two hands, serving the Dark Lord as loyally as two puppets could, had called on Darth Atrox first to try and maintain governance over the Empire. The Hands would serve as the authority of the Emperor - bestilling him the power - and Darth Atrox would have to do the rest, counting on the power of Imperial Defense to perform the function that Darth Marr had once done on behalf of Lord Vitaite. It was a fragile effort, any number of things could go wrong, and the Empire would fail. Lord Sefas knew better than all this however - and he knew the truth. Darth Valyrian was not sickly, but better than he had ever been. He had withdrawn, but not for the reasons that he had told his Council. Instead, he had withdrawn so he could continue his own ambitions undisturbed by the messy Imperial politics that followed him. He had obtained power over the galaxy - now he needed to secure his own legacy. Lord Sefas knew this, far more than any person inside the Dark Council Chambers. This was, because he was Darth Valyrian. Traveling under an alias, a mere Lord under the envoy of Darth Nidus, the Kaar of Mysteries, allowed him a certain amount of anonymity among Imperial worlds. As the Emperor, his face and presence was known right through the galaxy - masked, under the alias of Sefas, he was a relative unknown. With his Force signature withdrawn, his power unshowing, he appeared to be just a member of the entourage that Darth Nidus had brought with her to the summoning. His mask was not ostentatious, nor was it particularly detailed, featuring a fairly smooth surface with a couple eye divets marked in the surface. He wore a red cloak currently, the hood drawn up over the mask plate, with the red cloak wrapped around his neck trailing behind him. The rest of his armour, while inordinately expensive and secure, we as undetailed as the mask. Only the best, for one of Darth Nidus' assassins, if asked. The fact he was not known, was a mere testament to his skill as an assassin, he would say, if asked. However his profile had been added deep into the Imperial system, with a comprehensive background created for him. He never stood out - never featured, merely existed in Imperial society quietly. It was the story he told - it was the story he prefered, and it was the story told thousands of times before. How often had a man risen to power quickly within the Empire? Nobody asked anymore. Darth Nidus wore her usual, a long flowing grey dress, her long sleeves torn and her weathered old face and white coloured eyes showing the extent of her misery. A long scar traced across her throat, her face no picture of beauty, with weathered grey hair and wrinkles unkempt. She had the devils smile however - a smile which tore straight through the soul of others, while her own presence was withdrawn and hidden. If she had skill, power of finesse, she had never shown them. Risen to power under the authority of Darth Valyrian, nothing else was particularly known about the Kaar of Mysteries, other than the fact that she had in fact risen. A close advisor of the Emperor, she was recorded to be, but their relationship or involvement past that was uncertain. It was not uncommon for an Emperor and his Kaar of Mysteries to be close. 'I bet two credits that the old coot died,' one of the minor lords whispered to Sefas, giving him a nudge as he did, a broad smile on his thin lips, 'and that the Hands are keeping it secret. Maybe they covet the throne themselves. Never can trust 'em. Darth Atrox might be in on it - give it six months he'll be calling himself Regent, another six, Emperor. You'll see, it always turns out the same. Chaos, aren't we a predictable lot.' Sefas grinned underneath his mask ironically. His voice modulator gave an almost mechanical, deeper voice, ensuring that it could not be at all mistaken for the man he was avoiding being, 'I would be careful how openly you speak, friend. Darth Nidus is not a particularly forgiving person when it comes to people speaking out of turn about the Emperor,' he paused to give deeper meaning, before giving a mechanical laugh, 'However, you're probably right. Old Valyrian was one foot in the grave - another on a banana skin. It was only a matter of time before he over extended himself. Rumour has it...' Nidus turned, and Sefas fell characteristically silent. His companion moved away quietly, and Sefas repressed another chuckle from within his mask. The irony of being here, addressing the affairs of the Empire without an Emperor, were beyond amusing to him. Nidus raised her eyebrows in a manner that suggested he remain on his best behaviour or she would end him right here. The most amusing thing was, that Lord Sefas was almost certain she would do it, too.
  15. Sefas thrust his lightsaber forward - cutting through the pack, slicing one of the creatures into two semi-defined pieces, and yet they still came. He summoned the Force, pushing against the crowd, and yet even still, they advanced on him. Bodies dismembered and broken from the impact of his power - cut and torn from his frequent lightsaber strokes, they advanced on him with thoughtless ambition. With no regard for pain, for loss of limb or state of body, the mob of zombies continued their attack despite Lord Sefas' best intention. For every one that he managed to push down, three more took its place - the reanimated remains, hands and legs, wriggling towards him like moths to a flame. Pressed hard against the corner, Lord Sefas kept up his attack as best as he could - but even still, it felt as though he was losing an unwinnable battle. He had seperated from the group shortly after they had made it out of the airlock - and passing Darth Verrin's test. He had to test his persona against that of his old friend and advisor, and having done that without detection, he simply dropped to the back of the group, going back to have a closer look at the body. That, it had appeared, had been a wrong move on his part. On his way around, back to the original room, he had found an entire mob of the creatures, which had chased him through a few narrow hallways to this point. Here, with no way to go, Lord Sefas was forced to confront an entire horde of the creatures by his own. A mean feat for even an Emperor, let alone a Lord under the bidding of Darth Nidus. However... there was a caveat. Even now, he could feel the toxins in his body beginning to take over his system - the blood in his body turning almost to acid within his veins, from the bite mark on his hand. Somehow one of the creatures had forced his glove off his hand, ripped through his skin and bitten into the palm of his hand, while he was surrounded. The bite had been painful - agonizing, actually - and then, the infection had begun to grow. He fought against it best he could, but even with his own power, he could feel the virus making its way through his limb. It was only a matter of time before it infected him completely - turning him into... one of them. With the Force at his beck and call, he drew the heat from the creatures, drawing from them all essence of heat from everything in the room, except himself. The horde - even as he fought them - began to grow lethargic, slow as their core temperature plummeted quickly, before the first of them began to... crack. Movement became hard as the blood, or acid, as it might be that ran through what remained of their bodies, turned to ice. Their muscles siezed under the pressure, and the juices which ran from them turned to ice in their mouths and limbs. He kept exterting his pressure - forcing all heat from the room, until they began to splinter. He launched out with a massive repulse of Force energy - the bodies exploding, as the cells within them, frozen, could not move for the ice. The bodies shattered before him, the floor covered with a layer of feet, frozen to the floor, and a layer of snow... or... rather... flakes of human remains, resembling snow. With a herculean effort, he pushed himself forward, fighting through the pain, and the agonizing burning from the wound, towards the nearest emergency airlock. It didn't take him too long - and he managed to escape the detection of more creatures in the process - not that it mattered anymore. Reaching an emergency exit, he opened the small one person shuttle carefully, and began slowly, but surely, removing his armor. Not naked beneath, but covered with a thin layer of material, he put his helmet, robes, body armour, both gauntlets (he had recovered the one torn from him) and all manner of things, into the shuttle. Then, utilizing the Force to activate the controls, he activated the shuttle, and sent it roaring from the station... without him. He was sweating now - the virus in its final stages. He only had a few moments left - less than he would like. His body was dying, being... converted, and he had no option but to enact the ritual again... days after his last attempt. He summoned his energy, began to chant the words of Ancient Sith, burning in his throat as he did, as he pressed himself outwards... out into the void... out towards Bastion. A moment later, his body stopped breathing, and fell to the floor. Moments later, the zombified remains of Lord Sefas - a man who looked remarkably like the Emperor, opened its eyes . Exactly thirty seconds later, a small thermal-grenade, planted on the inside of Lord Sefas' robes, exploded.