Jump to content

Recommended Posts

Darth Atrox    716

Elona 3629, Dathomir Sith Academy

 

Months had passed, chasing the dreams of past Emperors - the idea of immortality, such a moot and depressing ideal had instead awoken something greater in their quest. His observers, the blackened Echani and the diplomatic witch working to ensure all the information he could want was bestowed upon him. Within the tombs of Kalakar and on Korriban he had retraced every single step Cideon had taken, yet instead of failing where Cideon had - he had found what he was looking for, a way to bring rebirth to the dying embers.. then the tome he had discovered soon became a relic he kept close with him, never truly leaving his side.

 

Hidden within the Unknown Regions laid their salvation, the remnants of Empires of eld protected and lost within the vastness of the galaxy. Dagan had the remains of their own fleet, but the fleet none had questioned what had happened to was ripe for the picking. Perhaps that is why the Empire had fell, none had asked questions - many were simply wanting to live their lives ignorant to the truth.

 

“Prepare my ship for departure, and summon Corvus and Sanguira - it is time to take back the birthright that belonged to every Imperial,” the words were hissed behind the vocoder of his mask, a tome snuggly held under his right arm as he eyed Dathomir, the savage planet that had been their former salvation.

 

While they could not simply rip out the throat of the Jedi and the Republic, they could regrow themselves and use their superior intelligence to wound them. Each of the Sith that held power had their own positive traits, though certain traits stood out from each one - each one of them would be required to do their own duty in this revanchism.

 

Verrin had the academy and a way to approach the students to properly prepare them for war. Tanit embodied the fury of the Sith, even in her waning health she was still a brute force to be reckoned with, and while her military career had been anything but successful, this would at least provide her with a chance to prove her usefulness to the Sith entirely. 

 

Tactically superior to Tanit was Corvus, the Echani Sithspawn that had the keenest intelligence and speed to be able to orchestrate these planned attacks with quick succession and even before being tampered with showed the will and endurance of a true Sith, something they sorely required. Finally it fell upon Sanguira to begin her campaign of diplomacy and subjugation, as she had the power and intelligence to crush her enemies, her intelligence was better suited to something that wouldn’t be completely eradicating all those who stood in her way.

 

---

 

As their vessel departed towards Dathomir, he realized many would probably oppose his right to rule - and truthfully he didn’t blame them, but unfortunately enough for them they lacked someone with vision, one who realized foresight was worse than hindsight. Tacticians were a rarity, and many of those who held their own power didn’t know how to wield it into a potent weapon.

 

“Corvus,” murmuring as he turned to the Echani, his hand sliding to the two lightsabers on his waist before tossing them towards the man, “I trust you are fully capable of quelling any rebellious.. fools. It is not my duty to crush any resistance, especially during times of rallying and rousing the people. Make sure Lord Verrin’s overseers are aware of our arrival, Ereneda.”

 

Feeling the vessel land by the Sith Academy, the Sith’ari lowered the ramp as he took the necessary steps towards the training grounds, cloak draped over his being as he no longer appeared regal outwardly, instead appearing ragged from his adventures. Regality was for royalty, not a God - sitting on one’s hands was a good way to stagnant, and Atrox was never one to accept stagnation.

 

Watching as the overseers gathered what they could, following suit of their returned Dark Lord, the man allowed his two companions to remain by his side. Perching himself over the largest training pit, his boots sunk into the mud as he stood far above those gathered there. He had noted the fact the savages weren’t subjugated yet, though they would in time with the return of Corvus.

 

“Children of the fallen, the downtrodden. Do you not tire of remaining under the heel of our oppressors? To remain amongst these savages, these Dathomirian witches and shamans.. have we truly forgotten our greatness?” The questions rang with the same rage that once sounded from the man on Balmorra, his eyes focusing on the masses as he threw out one hand to the side, his cloak twisting in the wind, “We’ve lost our worlds, and unfortunately our faith - but I have been watching from afar, and I understand the anger and the hatred we all feel for the Republic. Our salvation is not an all out war, we are far too weak to muster that - but to slay the goliath, we must strike their weaknesses.”

 

Hand sliding to his belt as he retrieved a holo-projector and clicked the button, throwing it out before him as it landed in the mud projecting multiple planets and points of interest. Industrial planets, the Kuat Drive Yards, the ships that remained within their control, and Vitiate’s own Imperial fleet - even Mandalore. It wouldn’t be an easy task to secure all points of interest, but they had the time and patience to properly secure them.

 

“Each and every member of the Sith Remnant is a cog in this machine, together we are stronger than the Republic and unlike the Jedi, we are cunning enough to accept that maybe sometimes our morals hold us back,” speaking louder as he returned his hand to the tome at his side, his hand tightening over it's spine, “Unlike Emperor’s of eld, I do not disappear forever to simply pursue my own goals - the Sith’ari does not reject his own blood for personal goals.”

 

He brought his right hand to his mask and released the hatches. Pulling off the mask revealed a different Atrox, one who had been stressed beyond recognition - though one who had managed to find a temporary solution to his accelerated ageing, that came at a price. Dishevelled hair flowed down his face as his hood came back, the black and grey hairs twisted together, yet on his face he held a grin - a form of pride one could almost feel.

 

“Are you with me, brothers and sisters?”

 

Spoiler

 

It’s time for the Sith to regain footing in this galaxy. The more we appeared stagnat, the less appealing we look/looked - shrinking the Sith down to this size was definitely a mistake. It will definitely give the initiates/hopefuls/recruits and higher members something to do, and allow interaction between both factions - something sorely needed. This is just a social thread, unless uppity people want to turn it into a conflict thread - I expect people to disagree and think Atrox is mad, but if anyone wants to draw a weapon.. eh, let’s have some fun. ;)

 

Let’s begin anew, my friends.

 

Figured tagging @Darth Verrin may be a good idea also, though it still looks like he joins almost every thread ;) Then @Setsuna Andal if she still exists.

 

 

Edited by Darth Atrox
  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Carnifex    62

Darth Atrox was returning. The Sith'ari once more joined them. Perhaps stagnation would no longer be the fate of the Sith. 

 

Carnifex had gathered with the others in the largest of the Training Pits. Among the acolytes and the Masters alike, the huge man awaited the Sith'ari's arrival, eyes turned skywards as if in worship of primitive gods. A spattering of upturned faces upon a sea of black, light upon darkness, like stars in the void. That was what Atrox would see upon his arrival- a galaxy of Sith, hanging upon his words, ready at a moment to do his bidding, to build or to destroy as he commanded. 

 

Such power. Such power

 

Maeve stood next to him, for once quiet and reserved, eyes turned skywards. Her arms were crossed, as they often were, as if to illustrate how unimpressed she wished to appear. She was a young woman, barely an adult, and knew little of such things. When Dromund Kaas had fallen, she had been out of the Academy for only a few months. She knew nothing of solidarity, of strength in numbers- just of individual power. This understanding would come with time, though. Nothing else. 

 

Carnifex had once been as she was. Atrox had changed that. When his Master had failed to inspire loyalty, failed to bring him into the Imperial fold, Atrox had. Atrox had shown him why the Sith were worth it, that the power of the dark side was not just physical. 

 

Perhaps he would have the same effect upon his young protege. Carnifex doubted it. 

 

They did not have to wait long. Atrox arrived, standing at the muddy edge of the pits, his attire ragged but his presence as magnificent as ever. He looked down upon them, as if answering some sort of prayer . 

 

“Children of the fallen, the downtrodden. Do you not tire of remaining under the heel of our oppressors? To remain amongst these savages, these Dathomirian witches and shamans.. have we truly forgotten our greatness?” the Sith'ari began, ragged cloak fluttering dramatically. Negative murmurs whispered throughout the gathering. No, they had not forgotten their greatness. No, they were under no heel. The current of the Dark Side quickened; Carnifex could feel it, his whole being itching to fight, to kill, as the combined anger of the Sith raced through him. He was riling them up. Preparing them. 

 

“We’ve lost our worlds, and unfortunately our faith - but I have been watching from afar, and I understand the anger and the hatred we all feel for the Republic. Our salvation is not an all out war, we are far too weak to muster that - but to slay the goliath, we must strike their weaknesses.”

 

He tore something from his belt, tossing it out; activating in the air, the holoprojector hit the mud. It showed systems, points of interest- shipyards. Industrial planets. Star destroyers. War. War was in those holoimages. Targets, for a new war. 

 

“Each and every member of the Sith Remnant is a cog in this machine, together we are stronger than the Republic and unlike the Jedi, we are cunning enough to accept that maybe sometimes our morals hold us back. Unlike Emperor’s of eld, I do not disappear forever to simply pursue my own goals - the Sith’ari does not reject his own blood for personal goals.”

 

The mask came off, void-black hair shot through with grey falling down about the Sith'ari's shoulders. It was the face not of a man, but of the Sith as a whole. 

 

“Are you with me, brothers and sisters?”

 

Were they with him, he asked? What sort of question was that?

 

Carnifex thrust a gigantic fist into the air, shouting his assent.  To his surprise, at his right, Maeve did the same. They were Sith, and they would fight and conquer and die as Sith. 

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Sanguira    241

Their time was nearing; with the destruction of their Imperial home, a common goal interlaced with the same emotions had been given birth between the woman and her lover.  They would rebuild the Sith in their image of greatness, rise from the shadows as the dominant beings they were, and take not just what was once theirs but what was everyone's - soon the galaxy would be at their beck and call.

 

For many standard planet rotations the couple fought with one another over power, over ruling the Empire.  Yet an understanding rose between them.  They needed one another, had to work as a unit to balance the other's weaknesses.  Emperor (or Empress) was nothing but a fancy title thrown around, a meaningless word.  While Darth Atrox had the physical and raw strength, the drive and knowledge of being a true Sith'ari, Darth Sanguira had the cunning eloquence, the gifted tongue that enabled her to bring in those around her, enabled her to inspire loyalty.  Born with the ability to charm all who stood before her, the brunette even used this gift on her husband.  Perhaps his awareness of that fact stemmed his admiration and hatred towards her.

 

She had done as she was told, their arrival at the Academy going smoothly - the one positive that came from such destruction at the hands of the Republic was a showing of respect between the remaining council members.  The lack of infighting was proving beneficial, not that anyone had the energy or desire to bicker over petty things like territory jurisdiction.

 

Studying the crowd below them, stormy molten eyes picking out a few faces she recognized from previous encounters, the woman smirked, approving the way they were responding to the man.  Clad in a seemingly simple armored gown, the coal attire was made for mobility and protection of vital organs.  Her dark energies were her true armor, and even weapon.  A clawed gauntlet rested gently on the male's back.  It was a subtle gesture of affection, of support.  Dark tresses flowing freely, Sanguira withdrew her touch, folding her arms over her chest, alreading planning her message to the other remaining spires - a meeting would be needed to discuss their next move in further detail, and to inform the group of their latest accomplishments such as the Darth's success in gaining control over her native planet (the full cluster was still a work-in-progress, but Hapes was now unofficially an ally).

  • Like 1
  • Love it 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Corvus    221

Disce aut discede - he couldn't place a face or name to the one that had imparted the wisdom on to him, and he didn't much care to think about it a great deal either. The words themselves were the star of the show; the path he'd followed; in a sense, his "raison d'être". Learn or depart. It was what had taken him from being on the road from a doctorate to the path of enlightenment within the halls of the Jedi, then it was the same thing that had taken him from the embrace of the Jedi into the vice grip of the Sith. Whenever the Echani felt at odds with himself he simply sought what was missing, rather than become stagnant and complacent with the place he had settled in. Student, Padawan; Acolyte; or Master, things like titles didn't hold much importance.

Perhaps that's the true reason he never grew complacent, but it left him infinitely restless no matter where he was, who he was or what he could possibly be doing. No; not even if he was standing beside powerhouses the likes of Atrox or Sanguira could he feel content. It was as if the entire galaxy was out of balance, he had things to correct constantly. From the way his possessions sat just askew on the edge of a desk, or looking towards the grande idea of escaping the god awful planet they'd some how found themselves stranded on in his absence. If Corvus was to be utterly, entirely honest without any intention of honeying the ears of those in his presence-

 

It was fucking crazy.

It wasn't the kind of talk he'd had the chance to use for the last little while. Corvus had been playing the diplomatic type - he learned how to sweeten up the ones that were important and how to hold his cards to play them when they we're appropriate. A dull, dead kind of combat that invoked no sense of adrenaline or excitement. It reflected the same dead, dull expression that was currently playing across the features on his face. His eyes were still, like fish eyes, and his mouth didn't twist in even the slightest hint of discomfort. His head was as if a mannequin, fixed by a metal rod that maintained his perfect posture even under the pressure of the Dark Lord who turned to face him. The two cylindrical objects were deftly caught by the raven haired man, as if he'd been expecting the very gesture long before they'd even neared their destination. A smile finally found its way sneaking through the corners of his lips;

 

"Of course."

Affixing the hilts to his side was second nature, and the weight on his hips sent a familiar sense of nostalgia running through his extremities as he flexed his hands. Yes, certainly; he hadn't found himself fighting for his life in quite some time. Not in the most barbaric sense, which was why the current situation satisfied him as much as it had. It was perhaps one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy, and there could be a very good chance that disgruntled people wanted to make their voices- Rather, their fists, heard.

In contrast to the regal depiction Sanguira might've held with her armored ensamble, or the ragged worn down appearance of her counterpart; Corvus was wearing a rather splendid outfit that you'd sooner see at a ball or social event held between Nobles of some kind. A snug fitting black dress shirt; prim, proper and ironed out finely. Dress pants to match, with shined black boots and a sort of dress coat that reached down well to his knees. Either hand could be seen gloved, which he folded behind his back as he descended down the landing ramp. His eyes still moved slowly, lethargically settling on the Overseers that would inevitably appear as he begrudgingly took the first step into the muddy shithole.
He supposed it was time for the little dance to begin as Atrox spoke to the masses, and Corvus remained to the rear with an eye on everything and nothing; not daring to standing next to either of the two while they made their entrance.

While many would no doubt be confused, the reception seemed to be kicking off relatively well with a few already announcing their intentions with fists and voices raised in unison.

  • Like 2
  • Great Post! 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Verrin    2,130

... and suddenly, all the doubts were swept away, and all of the concerns went with them.

 

Verrin had spent months waiting, without a word or signal.  He'd managed the Academy, working with the Overseers to train the Sith, and to establish the remnant's tenuous foothold on the planet. Subjugating the many natives was never part of the primary agenda, because the Sith were in hiding... for now. They negotiated with the nearby tribes, and left the more distant ones completely alone.  The fewer people who knew of the Sith's whereabouts, the better off they were. It had been a time of recovery, restoring themselves from the near-mortal wound the Jedi and Republic had left upon them.

 

Only a week or two ago, Verrin had finally had enough, and ventured out. There, on Nar Shaddaa, he'd recovered a wayward Sith named Aiden, and brought him back to Dathomir with him. That, and Verrin's agents had uncovered rumors - mere rumors - of other Sith. It was a sign that the Sith weren't completely gone, and that those on Dathomir weren't totally abandoned. It was a sign of hope.

 

Now, when people in the galaxy thought of 'hope', they never attributed it to the Sith. Yet here they were, anxious and expectant, when news came in that Atrox was returning. Quietly, the entire Academy facility was alerted, and most of the inhabitants made their way to the Training Pits to see the Sith'ari in person. Verrin wasn't immune, and he too made his way there.

 

Maggie chattered in his ear through a commlink, that the planet was being orbited by a large number of ships.  Apparently, Atrox had either hired an army, stolen one, or bred one from scratch. Or - and more likely - he'd hidden one away at some point, with an eventual goal of taking the throne.  Now, without Valyrian in place to overthrow, he had the throne - should he desire it. This fleet would assure his seat.

 

Halfway to the Pits, Verrin paused in mid-stride. The cloud of energy that Dathomir emitted obfuscated the Force so that those outside the planet couldn't accurately sense those on the surface.  But similarly, it worked the other way too, and Verrin couldn't sense the other Sith arrive.  That lasted until they broke the atmosphere, and Verrin's senses lit up with glorious darkness as not only Atrox arrived, but others too - like Sanguira and those close to the Sith'ari. It was like being underwater for a long while, and then surfacing - the 'sound' of their Force signatures sang loudly in his mind's ears. He almost - but not quite - smiled.

 

He arrived in the Pits, and Atrox emerged, giving an inspiring speech, and addressing everyone's concerns, hatred, and oppression. He promised things Verrin couldn't - and wouldn't.  Pointlessly, he asked if they were all with him. Someone next to Atrox shouted and raised a fist, inspiring others to do the same, and within seconds, the room erupted into shouts of joy, elation, and excitement as the young were swept up in the moment. And suddenly, all the doubts were swept away, and all of the concerns with them.

 

Verrin, unlike many of his brethren, wasn't caught up in the excitement. He dind't shout, or raise a fist.  It wasn't his way. He quietly nodded his affirmation.  He was on board, of that there was no doubt - he had never left the Sith or the purpose of the Empire. Admittedly, he had doubted whether any of these Sith would return, and he certainly hadn't predicted they would come in such force, prepared to take on the galaxy once more. But they were here now, and Verrin served the establishment - the Emperor, the Sith'ari, whatever they chose to call themselves. He would continue to train the young, to put more Sith behind this purpose. And... if called upon... he would bring more of himself to bear on those who would deny them.

 

One line that Atrox spoke, said more to Verrin than the rest: "... the Sith’ari does not reject his own blood for personal goals."

 

Neither did Verrin.

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Tanit    473

The time spent sequestered on Dathomir had been more or less the worst period of Darth Tanit's life since she had become a Sith. She had a driven purpose, guided by the Dark Side to lead people into battle and drag her enemies over hot coals. Without the resources or manpower to do just that, she had become as driftwood in the vast oceans of this rough and wild world. She drifted through the Academy walls like some kind of spectre of her former self. Beneath the somber visage there still burned a hatred and anger that could raze cities. What the Jedi and the Republic had done to her fleet and her people had never faded from her memory. The sight of an entire military force vanishing amidst the clouds of explosive debris still haunted her mind.

 

Those memories did not grant her the clarity to understand the fickle nature of the Dark Side, but they did grant her the clarity of mind to know that her purpose had not changed in the slightest. If given the chance, she would take the battle to the Republic and the Jedi, and avenge every single lost soul claimed in their misguided crusade. The oppressive ideologues leading the Jedi had taken their next logical step and used the war as an excuse to attempt genocide. To Tanit, their fatal mistake was not finishing the job properly. She had been left alive, so too had her former master Darth Verrin. The question had lingered for some time though, of where Darth Atrox and Darth Sanguira had gone in the mean time. That left much in doubt about the future of the Sith. Her concerns that the Remnant were left leaderless were not unfounded. In the past she had lived through the periods of time in the Sith where power vacuums were created by the absence of a strong leader. While those stirrings had not yet come up, in the absence of both Atrox and Sanguira there were only two truly viable candidates to take over; herself, and Darth Verrin. Her former master had spent his whole life avoiding the limelight, and if it came down to it he would likely have put his support behind her if she felt there was no other option to unify the Remnant and try to rebuild with a more aggressive policy.

 

Fortunately for both herself and the old man, those fears were allayed by the sudden return of the Sith'ari himself. If she could ever have thanked someone for her life after the war, it was down to his order to retreat and live to fight another day. It was a bittersweet notion, that she should live while her fighting force crumbled in an untenable position. Still, the rage that burned for that very memory was the motivation she needed. Tanit watched from the balcony of the room she had made her own as the Sith in the Academy were given the kind of speech that was easily meant to stir passions and manipulate emotions. She needed no such thing. Her desire to see the Republic undone and the Jedi crushed had been the motive for her continued training and study. It seemed, now that Atrox had returned, that the torturous existence of a military leader without a proper military were to come to an end. For the first time in ages, the faintest smile crossed her lips. It was time, and she was prepared to do whatever was asked of her.

  • Like 3

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Aiden Rohl    8

The news reached his ears early, but he hesitated to believe them. The Sith'ari himself returned? It sounded too good to be true. But the force had saved him from the rock of Nar Shadda, given him purpose once again within the Dathomir academy. Lord Verrin had earned his respect and loyalty for now, and he would serve justly until a better moment arrived. 

 

That moment however may not be now. 

 

Like the others he had trailed outside to hear and see the Sith'ari. Lingering in the back of the crowd. His eyes scanned the people around him warily with every step, and curling feeling in his stomach almost convinced him to stop and turn away. Who was the Sith'ari to leave them and send no word? To leave others to pick up pieces and build strengths on their own. It was not a time to seek power by ones self, and yet half of the Darths had simply disappeared. Anger flowed through him like a molten current, and he clenched his hands to keep walking. He would not enjoy this, he was sure. But then he felt it, the wash of darkside energy coursing over his body and filling his chest. Ah, so much more than just the Sith'ari had arrived. 

 

A smirk crossed his face and his eyes blazed with green and yellow furious excitement. A laugh escaped him, nothing more than quick sharp breaths that anyone else might mistake as a light cough. So this is what he was to look forward to. An army, change, revenge, building. It was enough to get even the most pessimistic being excited. 

 

His mix of emotions kept him at the rear of the pack, his eyes locked on the Sith'ari as he spoke honeyed words to the gatherings. Most, he could agree with. Some, made his jaw clench and his muscles tense in temptation to speak out and disagree. Thankfully his tongue stayed where it should, until the multiple shouts of agreement raised into the air. Energy crackled between bodies and he let himself get caught up in the excitement as well, shouting with the others. Though he had his doubts, they would remain with him for now. 

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Kai Tsintah    50

Kai was used to being woken in the night. The fact that it was some artificial life form, calling her to get ready and assemble at one of the largest training pits, did not shake the Korun in the least. She knew that the Sith would use droids to their greatest advantage; there was little use in denying that fact, but it was rather imperative to accept the concept of their efficacy and purpose. Rising from her bed, the Korun donned her usual clothing; trousers, boots, under-tunic, tunic, belt.  She avoided considering weapons that would usually make their way into her holster or belt clips. Just a dagger, that would suffice. Anything else would have been overkill. Or underkill, considering the possible opponents.

 

She was ready. 

 

Moving over to the door, she followed the droid guide to the hallway, where the voice of the Sith'ari resounded - loud and clear.  Why... it just bothers me... why now? Why so soon?  Kai could not explain it to herself; she was rather perturbed by the fact that such a huge change was taking place just as she had arrive here ... and now.

 

I have done so little. Not nearly enough to play a part in this, the greater of things...

 

Children of the fallen. We've lost our ...faith.  Watching from afar.... anger and... hatred ...for the Rpublic. Our salvation is not an all out war, we are far too weak to muster that - but to slay the goliath, we must strike their weakness.

 

Kai exhaled lightly, her dual-colored gaze flickering with an unspoken hope. This was not her goal. This was not her quest. The Korun was not after some unattainable purpose. Nor did she care about who was at the helm of this venture. Sith'ari? It did not matter. Kai had her own goal which superseded everything and anything any Sith Emperor could have ever wanted. He could be here - or he could be gone - did it matter?

 

No. It is not important. All that matters, is settling my own accounts. Putting things right. That is all that matters.
 

It was time to use circumstances toward her future goals. Whatever it meant. Whatever it took. And she felt it then, the true belief that zapped her strength,  her stamina, her willpower. Maybe it was not what she was meant to believe in.... but there it was, a part of her. A belief that had been honed inside of her from the get-go. From the point that someone had taken her father's life, to the point she found herself to be an initiate in the wall of this, Sith Academy on Dathomir. 

 

There is no peace, there is anger
There is no fear, there is power
There is no death, there is immortality
There is no weakness, there is the Dark Side.

I am the heart of darkness
I know no fear
But rather I instill it in my enemies
I am the destroyer of worlds
I know the power of the Dark Side
I am the fire of hate.

All the universe bows before me
I pledge myself to the darkness
For I have found true life
In the death of the light.

 

"For I have found true life.... In the death of the Light."

 

Kai did not believe it. She knew there was no truth to it. There could be no dark without light. And yet, she had said it in order to convince herself of a greater cause - if in fact, it had a purpose to survive - and win.

 

Emotion, yet peace.

 

She could sense the thought, permeating to the very core of her being. And yet, Kai heard the words, only she did not want to accept them or hear them, ever again.

 

No. You cannot. You -MUST- not. BE-GONE!

................ 

 

S I L E N C E

 

Darth Verrin.... where are you? I could so use your help, right now.

Edited by Kai Tsintah
  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Yasinda Jax    5

Interesting. Yasinda listens without directly looking at the man, taking in every detail. This was what she wanted, after all. One man could reign prosperity, very few Kings were tyrants. But almost every 'democracy' that preached 'diplomacy' eventually decayed into corruption, each individual fighting for the whole quickly became nothing more than rich frauds. And the fools that would still support them were nothing more than ants, mindless creatures. But one man, an Emperor, would look out for himself, and his Empire that thrived was the Empire that would keep him most protected...

 

But Yasinda had her doubts about putting this man into such power, he arrived acting entitled. Considering how many others seemed to respect him though she assumed he was some sort of big deal. Regardless, his words for the Sith were just that, for the Sith. She scoffs quietly, immediate distrust forming. She crosses her arms, she doesn't join in the cheering, but even if she did fully agree and trust this man, Yasinda wasn't one much for cheering. She looked at this man, he was no King. He was a Bishop. But he'd pave the way for her King, already her mind was working, looking for one that might rise against him and be worthy of her time.

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Ren    112

Ren was already awake when the droid came to give the summons. The teen quickly threw on his cloak and boots before heading out, not risking getting caught then punished. The blond froze when it looked like the entire academy was summoned. The sound of boots on duracrete and the mass of bodies moving forward was too overwhelming, too claustrophobic and crowded. Except, if Ren didn't move soon, he'd be swept away along with the crowd.

 

He felt too aware of his surroundings - of the heat emanating of having so many bodies crowded together, or the fact that the wears and tears on the floors and ceilings befitted a building hundreds of years old even if the academy was technically new. There were various acolytes and other students murmuring among themselves, excitement and worry and disapproval crashing into each other in hushed tones. Ren tried ignoring all of it and kept his eyes forward. He almost breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar doors ahead. A sardonic smile twitched at Ren's lips for considering the training pits as a source of comfort at this time when it was usually a terrible ordeal on the teen's day to day life.

 

Various overseers and droids were herding everyone to the largest pit - which Ren doubted had enough space to hold all of them, but somehow managed to fit almost the entirety of the academy. Finding a space separate from most of the people was difficult, and pretending to be unaffected and stoic while feeling like the teen was surrounded and pressed from all sides was a nightmare on its own.

 

Thankfully, there were only a few people sticking close to the walls. They were probably avoiding the many suspicious stains to keep their clothes clean. Which was fine by Ren, he could just clean his anyway. He stood attentively, with his arms crossed, eyeing the others within the pits before looking up.

 

Atop the pits was a sight Ren thought he'd never see again. Other than the Dark Lord of the Sith, something niggled at the back of Ren's awareness. Something familiar, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

 

“Children of the fallen, the downtrodden. Do you not tire of remaining under the heel of our oppressors? To remain amongst these savages, these Dathomirian witches and shamans.. have we truly forgotten our greatness?” 

 

It was already hard not letting his discomfort show, and Darth Atrox's words... certainly stirred something in him. He hadn't quite given thought what he felt about the Republic - the Jedi - and Ren certainly didn't want to give it thought now

 

“We’ve lost our worlds, and unfortunately our faith - but I have been watching from afar, and I understand the anger and the hatred we all feel for the Republic. Our salvation is not an all out war, we are far too weak to muster that - but to slay the goliath, we must strike their weaknesses.”

 

The relief and elation in Ren's chest had him feeling light headed, that he almost missed the Sith'ari's next words. He tried not to focus on the words screaming at the back of his head that Corellia was safe, that it wasn't on display even if logic was telling him that it would eventually be targeted if things were to go well. 

 

“Are you with me, brothers and sisters?”

 

Ren took a deep breath. He wasn't exactly... on board with attacking the Republic. Even if it meant having something better than Dathomir, something better than living in this hellhole where everyday was a struggle not to fall behind, where everyday Ren clawed his way just to live.

 

However, speaking out and trying to fight against what was essentially a call to war would mean his death. So, he kept quiet, fingers digging into the material of his clothes - trying to think of a way out, but couldn't. All Ren could hope for now, was survive.

  • Sad 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Atrox    716

The raw emotion of the crowd brought a sensation of pride to the Sith'ari, but between the cheers, other emotions bled quietly as if they wouldn't be noticed - the fists and shouting could not drown out the doubt, the lack of true trust. He had expected it, though they simply would need to learn that freedom wasn't wallowing in the chains the Republic had wrapped around their body. It was no longer the blind leading the blind, Atrox would not stand by as the Sith walked around like mindless drones better fit to herd nerfs, they would understand the blessing of being Imperial.

 

Fingers unclipping the book that sat at his side from the harness he wore, he drew on the dark side as the purple miasma formed around his being, the two spirits bound to his body manifesting as he let out a half-hearted chuckle, the echoes of the spirits flowing within his voice. Cowardice within the Sith still remained, those that refused to speak - those that refused to question the words spoken to them. Eyes faintly glowing purple as he let their twisted shapes raise hands outwards, their anguish palpable through the Force - those with the ability to actually feel the Force would understand that even in death there was no salvation.

 

He could sense the presence of both Carnifex and Verrin through the crowd, with the larger male beginning the cheer beside another woman he hadn't been acquainted to when the two last met. Verrin had remained off in the distance, seclusion being the man's more preferred setting during large gatherings - it fitted the old man to simply observe without much reaction. A faint impression of Tanit remained, though he couldn't lay his finger on her presence as he reached out his mind to it's max potential.

 

"'If you can't see the chains, then what use is the key?' That's what many of you naysayers believe but refuse to question, right? Those that are blind to fist that has crushed our will to continue to properly live are the ones willing to live on their knees - they are those willing to accept the table scraps of the Republic," eyes setting on the masses as his voice hooked inwards, his presence continuing to expand as his hatred blanketed the crowd, he clenched his free hand into a fist and continued, "Survival is the most important aspect of living, yet those willing to put down their lives prove they are fully capable of understanding the Imperial belief. It isn't the number of planets that we claim, it is the ability to remain powerful regardless of our circumstance."

 

Opening the tome as chaotic energies that had expanded outwards soon retreated towards him, surrounding his being and the book itself, his body acting as a conduit for the dark side to channel the energies he read. Unclenching his hand as he summoned lightning within it, he let it crackle and form down his wrist as he continued to control it - weaving it into a potent collection of dark side energies. If they feared speaking out, he would show them what they should truly fear

 

Raising his hand into the air as lightning struck outwards, the man controlling it to ensure none were injured in the process of being shown true power. Striking the foliage that sat above them, setting the trees aflame, he looked down upon the masses as he watched bits of burning leaves fall downwards upon them. The metaphor could be anything they desired, but as the man seen it, they were to witness the difference between embers and an inferno. Pulling his hand down as he drew back the spirits within his being, he placed the tome back to his side as he extended out a hand towards the crowd. Those that were Force-sensitive would be able to feel the disturbance that would plague their minds with slight pains, though those that were strong of will and power could easily push through it.

 

"Those that are willing to cast off their chains, I would recommend reporting to Darth Sanguira, Darth Verrin and Darth Tanit afterwards. The rest of you can clean up the ashes and cover your bodies with them. It would better fit the weak-willed to physically wear what they are willing to let the Sith remain as," placing back on his mask as he felt the hatches hiss shut, he turned on his heel and paused momentarily, turning to look over his shoulder to address them once more, "Through victory, our chains will be broken. Many of you would be wise to study the mantra of the Sith, regardless of your beliefs."

 

Dispersing the miasma of power that flowed from his body, he took in the sight of the forest surrounding them burning - though with how the clouds rumbled and ground quaked, he knew rain would come sooner rather than later. His body pushed past Darth Sanguira as he reached out his hand and rested it on her shoulder, nodding as he walked out into the forest. He would witness the Dathomirians firsthand and then decide the Remnant's first course of action. 

 

Reaching out his mind to those that would support his belief - those he could trust with whipping the heretics into shape. While he doubted Verrin was loyal completely to him, he knew the man was loyal to the Sith and understood the importance of unity. However, his first connection was to his creation, the most loyal to the belief of the Empire - Corvus.

 

"@Corvus, assist me in taking the measure of the Dathomirian tribes, and cover my flank. However, if you wish to wait and eliminate any of those that speak anything you believe is heresy.. then you have been granted my blessing," unlike many within the Sith Remnant the man had been programmed with the belief that the Sith were required to live on, even with the Sith'ari's passing - something that would come in handy with his return.

 

"@Darth Sanguira, gather those willing to assist in diplomacy and espionage at the temple and try not to tear out the throats of those that step on your toes - I'd rather the old man doesn't have to have his Guardians clean up the mess. Summon Vansic from Vjun when you are capable, inform him that his fleet is being prepared and we will need his unorthodox tactics on one specific planet. Though do warn him we will not be glassing the planet.. we want to send a message, not send both the Republic and Jedi after him and eventually us," the woman was vicious, but she also understood the importance of undermining the enemy - something that would come in handy with crippling the Republic.

 

"@Darth Verrin, it is good to see you still are live, I had thought after a year alone on this planet you would have been driven to madness and murdered the entire Sith Academy. I have a task for you and that task is simple, simply continue to train and provide the recruits and Sith with tasks to occupy them - but report back to me if anything heretical comes up. I understand our views never truly align, but I know you enough to understand you are not one to stay down when you are knocked down," they shared a rocky past, most definitely, but both Darths had ascended through their own perseverance under Emperor Cideon's reign, and were the only known surviving members of the respective council.

 

"@Darth Tanit, if this is still the surviving military leader, then I will recommend you convene with me tomorrow within the upper chambers of the Sith Academy. The Sith need a more able-bodied leader to guide it's military forces, and I have found a solution hidden within my tome. Your duty will be also mentioned then, but until then guide the men and women that come to you. Vengeance will come, but remember your current situation," much like Verrin, Tanit and Atrox had a rocky past - though when both were far too young to probably manage to control the dark side at their max potential, and unfortunately for the woman her body had begun to fail her during Verrin's ascension to the Dark Council due to an assassination attempt.

 

"@Carnifex, I trust you are capable of guiding these Sith unlike your former master - remember that your strength isn't always without, but within. Vengeance for our fallen brothers and sisters will come in time, but you are better suited to guide the Sith in their physical training, show them the truth of our tempered fury," unlike normal Sith, Carnifex had stood out to the man when he was the Kaar of Military Defense, and he was the first individual to ascend under him - yet the only thing that had crippled his quick ascension was his weak master, something he had desired to destroy.

 

Feeling the blood drip down from his nostrils before finally coagulating within his nose as he pushed himself mentally too far, he shook his head as he heard the monitors make mention of the damages of his body. Every God had their weaknesses, but this one wouldn't expose his neck to the rest of them. The selfish breed of Sith would end, and a new horizon would be witnessed - the Sith could no longer live in the shadows, and neither could they over-extend their reach, they required restraint and guidance. Patriotism would be shown in time, and those that wished to resist would be forced to kneel before the might of Reborn Empire.

 

 

Post Information

Spoiler

Enjoy talking amongst yourselves, this thread was simply to inform the Sith that they won't be sitting on their hands while the Republic gets all the story lines. If any desire to try and strike Atrox, or try and follow him, I will gladly reply - but the Dark Council and two of the more trusted individuals have their own tasks to do.

 

Force Skills: Force Sense, Force Storm, Telepathy

 

  • Like 1
  • Great Post! 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Yasinda Jax    5

To Yasinda and the few that had no Force affinity, all they see is some sort of spectacle, a display of power that is supposed to be imposing? Yasinda makes it a common practice not to feel emotions, Sith had a habit of manipulating them, at least that’s what she had learned as a Republic trooper. Like water, reflective, yet still. But what happens once rippled?

 

She knows this...ghost-thing is meant for her, or at least those like her. She looks to Master Rohl, as though offering him an apologetic look since he was the closest thing she had to a commanding officer. She steps forward, no doubt a bit comical that Yasinda would believe she could stand up to a Sith.

 

Still, the Mirialan moves confidently forward, though stops a respectable distance as to not seem a threat. She is armed, openly, with her blaster pistol but she knows for a fact that even her quick aim would fall short to a Sith. 

 

Private Jax, sir, permission to speak freely?” She salutes and addresses the one who demands obedience.

 

(Posted on my phone so forgive any mistakes.)

Edited by Yasinda Jax

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Verrin    2,130

The display of the Dark Side wasn't impressive to Verrin, or at least, not the spectacle of the Force Storm that lit up the place.  But what DID impress him - the thing that got his attention - was the book that Atrox clutched. It was a source of power, though at this distance, it was difficult to tell if it was new knowledge, or old. Whatever the case, it allowed some form of control over the spirit world - access to more power than one being could normally hold.  THAT attracted Verrin's eyes.  More power meant more possibilities. Such had always been the case.

 

But as the show wound down and his eyes were freed from the display, Verrin was able to witness the faces of those around him.  Through those faces, and through the Force, Verrin sensed the variety of emotions.  One person was fully awed, and completely given over to serving the new would-be Emperor. But the man next to him wasn't so sure - probably concerned over the Sith's possible extinction. Another man scoffed, probably trying to figure out how to move up the ladder of power rather than be carried along by it.  And a green-skinned woman next to him didn't look at all impressed.

 

That last one seemed odd to Verrin.  When confronted by such a raw display of power, even non-Force sensitives tended to be awestruck - or at the least, impressed. But perhaps it was simply like a weather pattern.  A hurricane was so massive, and so powerful in scale, it couldn't possibly be controlled by one person's whim. So maybe the display of power here turned into just that - a weather event. And who was really impressed by those?

 

Verrin finally spied Darth Tanit, who smiled. That smile was a little creepy on her face, but the feelings behind it were clear. She'd been dormant for a year - a war machine that had been garaged.  She saw the bay doors opening before her, freeing her to wage her wars once more. The smile was legitimate pleasure. Though to be fair, her pleasure often grew from the pain of others.

 

Verrin began to walk through the groups of people, offering a familiar face to those that needed it, or a helping hand. Most didn't need it, but a few of the crowd that had been so amazed by the return of the Sith'ari and the Darths needed some tangible reassurance that this was all real - that their days of hiding would be over. They saw him almost every day, at least every week.  For those people, Verrin was the anchor to this world.  And for those that had become too elated, or spied an opportunity to rise among their peers by striking out at their fellows, Verrin was the thing that gave them pause.

 

He eventually came across Kai, who looked like she'd seen a ghost.  She turned toward him with an odd look on her face, and so he put a comforting hand upon her shoulder and leaned in close. "See me after this," he offered

 

The Sith'ari spoke openly to Verrin's mind, using telepathy, "It is good to see you still are live, I had thought after a year alone on this planet you would have been driven to madness and murdered the entire Sith Academy. I have a task for you and that task is simple, simply continue to train and provide the recruits and Sith with tasks to occupy them - but report back to me if anything heretical comes up. I understand our views never truly align, but I know you enough to understand you are not one to stay down when you are knocked down."

 

Verrin responded in kind - the art was the very first power he'd ever learned, and came as easily to him as speech. "Don't think that the thought hasn't crossed my mind, Sith'ari."  Verrin had indeed considered killing off several people in the Academy over the year on the planet - even his apprentice Holle was on that list. But he'd held off, his will was second to none, and even the constant call of the Dark Side hadn't turned him into a chaotic monster.

 

At least... not in such an overt sense.

 

While Atrox had been working his side project - his fleet, or his return, or gathering the others - he'd tasked Verrin with the growth of the Sith refugees. Verrin had done that, but he had side projects of his own - he always did. One of those projects involved the natives of Dathomir. But monetary restrictions had prevented his research from going too far beyond planning stages. A new Empire... a return to prominence and power in the galaxy... that could bring the necessary influence and finances to continue his work.

 

Verrin understood the task set upon him, which wasn't different from what he'd been tasked with in the first place. He nodded and responded, "Of course, My Lord. It will be so."

 

It was true that he and Atrox didn't share the same methodology.  But their goals were not all that different from one another. They simply had two ways of reaching them. Atrox's worked for him, Verrin's worked for him, and together, they would see the Sith restored to power as a united Empire.


Then, Atrox was walking away, with his most trusted people tailing him.  But the young, green-skinned woman from earlier stepped forward from the crowd, seeking an audience with the departing leader.

 

"Private Jax, sir, permission to speak freely?"

 

"Bold," Verrin thought, amused. He wasn't familiar with the Private beyond some paperwork he'd signed off when she'd arrived. She'ld likely fallen into Darth Tanit's realm, or one of her underlings. Even though the Academy was a Sith Temple, it also housed refugees and peoples from the Empire's broken military. Verrin half-expected her superior officer to step out of the crowd and flog her, but then, this was an odd event. Perhaps she would actually get the ear of the Sith'ari.

  • Haha 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Corvus    221

One after another, familiar faces bled out with the masses. Corvus took note of individuals that stood above the others, ones that held considerable merit both positive and negative. If there was one thing the Echani was good at besides martial combat or political intrigue, it was the act of discrimination. Discrimination based on the grounds of competence, more or less. It was important to find the individuals who could make an impact of any kind, especially with the venture they were about to embark on.

 

The ones who sided in silence were of relative note; it didn't necessarily take a large amount of courageous confidence not to join in with the arm raising, hooting and hollering act that the sheep had erupted into. What it did say; however, was that they had a backbone and their own sense of identity. Some would silently accept it, while others might brood and begin planning their own schemes - all kinds of people would be needed. The color in the hybrids eyes shifted as he moved from one face to the next, eventually moving from old faces to fresh ones.

"Ah; well, it's nice to know they've managed to find recruits." He smiled from his position behind the two stars of the show, the whites of his teeth barely showing. It seemed that things would go according to plan so far, no upstarts had interrupted the speech, and no one had the gall to challenge Atrox right then and there. His eyes turned upwards, not catching anything of interest; but none the less admiring the view from which he stood until his head leveled out once more once Atrox began to speak once more- along with lighting a few things on fire.

Corvus sighed, quietly.

"Corvus, assist me in taking the measure of the Dathomirian tribes, and cover my flank. However, if you wish to wait and eliminate any of those that speak anything you believe is heresy.. then you have been granted my blessing,"

 

Telepathy was something he'd learned to get used to, even if he hated the sensation, and it was already a mutual understanding the Corvus was to do as he was told to the letter, the act of reminding him being a simple formality by this point in time. He simply bowed slightly, eyes shut with a pleasant smile; the kind of elegant gesture you'd often see a butler performing for their master. The role wasn't all that much different, truly, though it did involve a great deal more violence and intrigue than your average attendant would ever see in their lifetime of servitude.

The next event took him by surprise. Someone, a private, had the nerve to approach Atrox itself. Corvus hadn't moved an inch even while she had approached the man, simply because it would've almost been insulting to the man had he done so. His eyes simply watched 'Private Jax' carefully, his expression resembling something akin to interest. This is how it went in the Echani's mind: When a fly approached Atrox, did Corvus defend him? Simply put, no. There was no need. Atrox could simply act as if the fly wasn't there at all, or he could swat it down with the minimum effort required.

 

The real question was not her bravery; but, just how generous was the Sith'ari feeling on that day?

Moving up closer to the flank of the Dark Lord, Corvus watched this 'Jax' like a hawk; perhaps the most invasive stare he'd given anyone up until that point, though he remained silent in the time it would take Atrox to respond to the situation.

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Sanguira    241

While Dathomir could easily disguise and distort one's Force signature, even cloud their emotions from being thoroughly sensed, a Sith of her experience and empathetic connection had no issue sorting out the various beings: those that would lay down their life for the Sith'ari, those that would follow despite doubts, and those that had no loyalty or trust in what they heard and saw.  Most were of no concern, her gaze resting on a few particular individuals as though silently informing them she could read them like a flimsi.  Even she had followed with a sense of loyalty despite the back and forth threats to kill the other between her lover and herself - and in the many battles fought together, they risked their very lives to keep eachother safe.  

 

While the man turned to leave, their creation being the obedient pet he was and following suit, Sanguira remained, her part only just beginning.  Spotting the old Darth, she gave a wink, the cold smile that had been tugging at the corners of her mouth completely vanishing when a nobody dared to speak to Atrox.  At least the soldier had asked permission, but the fact she dared do that at all made the woman's anger flare.  As quickly as the fiery emotions had risen, they were dampened by her control over her reactions, control that took ages to learn and was still imperfect.  

 

Voice ringing clear, the elegant brunette stepped forward to block both path and view (as much as her frame compared to her husband's allowed) to the man.  "Any and all concerns should be brought to your direct superiors, or to me.  I not only speak on behalf of Darth Atrox, the true Sith'ari that will lead each of you down a path to victory and salvation, but am looking for those amongst you with a particular talent for working swiftly in the shadows.  Come join me inside should you wish to put your talents to work."

 

Prepping to send a holomessage to those that had roles to perform in this play directed by her beloved Sith, the femme rose a finely groomed brow at the private in a silent question as to what she needed, taking the moment of the Mirialan's hesitation to record and send her message.

 

@Vansic Modun "My dear Vansic, I do hope your mind and skills have not gone rusty.  We are in need of your services once more, so join us at the coordinates encrypted in this message.  Darth Atrox has a gift for you."

 

 

 

 

Skills Used: Force Sense / Force Empathy

 

I know she technically didnt use them except as a subconscious or natural way, but stating it just for records sake.

Edited by Darth Sanguira
  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Yasinda Jax    5

Snap a sharp salute, about face, and just walk away. Yasinda knew what to do, it was the right thing to do. It was what she always did, the right, appropriate mannerisms. Get to the back of the line and just follow orders, continue to live this lifeless, mundane life that she had fled to. There was no place for her here, that man had made that clear. She looks back briefly at the fellow Initiates, the ones like her that were being treated like nothing but pawns for some one else's gain. She should just return with them, do the grunt work once more...

 

Fuck it. I've lost too much to be a Dog again.

 

She takes out her pistol with a natural motion, she fires one shot into the air and then points right at Atrox. Glaring past his attack dogs, her hand doesn't shake, similar to her gaze as she levels the barrel on the man. "You wish to be a leader yet you don't address your people? Are we that insignificant to you? But maybe if I was one of your 'brothers or sisters' I would be worthy of your time, is that it? You look down upon us, but it was the Republic that drove you here. And all you demand are words for us to obey you, a disgusting display of power to show what? That if we don't fall in line and be your pawns then you'll kill us? Show them then. Show them what sort of leader you are."

 

What happened when the water was rippled? She was certainly finding out, there was a slight thrill to pointing a gun at a Force user again, reminding them just how mortal they truly are. One shot, it was all she needed.

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Darth Atrox    716

The response from Darth Verrin wasn't required, but it was good the man still kept some form of his more light-heartedness - it'd help the weaker students incapable of cooperating a way to relate to the man. Though, the second he felt the presence of a much more.. displeased.. being tail him, asking to speak directly to him he let out a half-hearted laugh before looking over his shoulder at the woman. How many Sith had he seen fall under the boot of others when they sought an audience with those who held more power? Countless, perhaps, but the one thing he could put his finger on was that she simply didn't understand how the Remnant worked - and she definitely didn't understand who she was talking to exactly.

 

Hearing Sanguira speak out towards her caused him to laugh before pausing momentarily as he felt the Force flare within his being, his eyes immediately emanating the pale blue glow of the natural Force as he viewed the world around him, took in the emotional spectrum through the Force. The first warning shot had the man on alert, even if his cloak could have easily dispersed the energies, he was ready to tear the throat out of the wretch in that moment - fingers twisting into a clenched fist as he kept his back to the woman. Corvus could potentially immediately disarm her, but unfortunately the Echani wasn't there to protect him from simple thugs.

 

"Bold yet stupid, almost admirable for a xeno. I've seen far too many men and women lose their tongues for their words, but fortunately I am not my former masters," speaking quietly as he turned on his heel, releasing his hand from the tome as he rested it against his chest as a fine sheen of Force energy flowed over his being, a grin sitting on his slips as it was masked behind the alchemized metal, "I won't kill you, I will show you how merciful the Sith'ari is - but you will need to live with your choices. A few broken bones, potential internal bleeding, a much better fate than being crushed into a pulp of green flesh, bone and organs."

 

Drawing on the dark side nexus that rested beneath the Sith Academy, the Sith'ari removed his hand from his chest before slowly clenching his hand into a fist as the telekinetic energies started to form around the woman - the pressure slowly building as he showed restraint. How her emotions swapped on a dime, how she felt so prideful that she could draw her weapon without being immediately swept away - the soldier acting more like a hooligan on Nar Shaddaa. Eyes drifting to her weapon as he focused the telekinetic crushing force there, he would gladly cripple her through exploding the power cell - though if she was wise she would drop it.

 

"Truth be told, I could care less for those who think they are intimidating waving around a weapon after a warning shot. My blood has always been for the Empire, do you truly believe the Sith and Imperials are not one? If you believe that, then perhaps you should follow the old Empire's beliefs and bow before your God," speaking coldly as he closed the distance slowly, each stride prolonged as he continued his focus on the woman, "If I clung to the past, you would be tossed up onto the trees and left to die and rot as a warning to both heretics and the Dathomirians - but perhaps someone else may be more generous and give you a quick death."

 

As if the day couldn't get worse, the sensation of fear and what could potentially translate into soiled briefs emerged in the man's mind. Feeling outwards towards the presence that emerged from the crowd, his mind reached outwards and wrapped around the red haired male, the one who knew far too much for an acolyte - at least to Darth Atrox. To understand the man's truth behind his mask was a death sentence, though the boy had escaped his fingers far too often - and Corvus wasn't one to deal with side projects.

 

"Silas, your fear shows I can not trust you - but you would be wise to do my bidding unless you desire a similar fate," the telepathic words were spoken coldly to the younger male, each word creeping up his spine before embedding into his mind, "Prove you are more of a man than a simple noble that has grown stagnant. Execute the woman and find yourself pulled into the ranks of those wishing to escape this pile of refuse."

 

Pulling his mind outwards, he spoke one simple word loud enough for Corvus to hear; "Niekinti."

 

 

Post Information
 

Spoiler

 

As was discussed behind the scenes, I will give Yasinda the ability to react to the extent of the damage, retaliation - etcetc. Unfortunately Atrox would rather salt his own wounds than simply crush someone under his foot - so it's time to bring forth @Silas Kitsuchi, the one repulsive thing that Atrox hates more than anything. This was also done because Yasinda wants to create a new character, before anyone thinks otherwise :P

 

Nienkinti means "Ignore" in Ancient Sith, and is the one word Atrox has programmed in the little Sithspawn to ensure he doesn't murder the one chosen for this personal execution.

 

Force Powers
Force Sight, Force Armor, Force Crush, Telepathy.

 

 

  • Like 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Silas tried brushing the ashes off. He wasn't quite as... excitable as his peers, yet he would be a fool not to follow. The speech had been nearly exhilarating, had the redhead not been grounded by the fact that should the Dark Lord of the Sith recognize him, he could be potentially dead. Seeing Sanguira and Atrox together had instilled an increase in his heart rate with no chance of coming down the longer he stood in the training pits.

 

As far as he could see, treason and disobedience were not options - granted, it wasn't just fear that motivated him. The Sith'ari's aims to show the galaxy that the Sith were still there, that they still held power meant... something better, infinitely.

 

If it was a chance to move back to Korriban or leave for another world that was once under the Empire's control, then who was Silas to question it? It was certainly better than this shit hole of an academy - with its oppressive heat and obnoxious insects, or the humidity and barely maintained facilities. Why waste resources on comfort when it could be used to subjugate the natives instead? At the very least, Darth Atrox were giving the academy a step up from this place.

 

For a moment, Silas felt his heart stop.

 

A Mirialian woman stood up and pretty much challenged the Sith'ari's authority.

 

That was a horribly wrong move.

 

And just why did Silas had to stand close enough to see her held down by the Dark Lord? He could feel all his insides seize up, dread settling at the back of his head, mindless fear screaming at him to run yet his limbs remained frozen. Taking a piss before leaving for the Pits counted for something, at least.

 

He could hear Darth Atrox speak, yet Silas could not register the words. Gaze stuck on the sight of the alien woman crushed under the Dark Lord's power. He swallowed. Hard.

 

 

"Silas, your fear shows I can not trust you - but you would be wise to do my bidding unless you desire a similar fate," Silas heard Darth Atrox's voice inside his head, "Prove you are more of a man than a simple noble that has grown stagnant. Execute the woman and find yourself pulled into the ranks of those wishing to escape this pile of refuse."

 

There was no need to nod, but there was a need to act. Almost stiffly, Silas ambled his way towards the Mirialian. He stopped right in front of her, hands shaking as he took out his training saber. The barbs weren't designed to kill, but with a little creativity however....

 

"Sorry," Silas whispered to himself. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he had a feeling it would be perceived as a weakness. His blue eyes were large and terrified, but his self-preservation gave him enough resolve to hold the hilt with both hands.

  • Like 1
  • Haha 1
  • Love it 1

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Kai Tsintah    50

Things were settling for Kai, at long last. What was that, just now? An abrupt spark of madness? A brief triumph of fear and pride over logic and wisdom? Disgust and shame swept through her, thoughts focusing upon the universe of the real.

 

Such a gathering of darkness, all in one place. The intensity of it caused a violent eruption of goosebumps all over Kai's body and for once, she was grateful that her head was the sole part of her body currently visible to others. No one else seemed to have noticed the dark skinned Korun female, or anything being amiss with her, otherwise. Well, that was not entirely true: Darth Verrin did notice and he did sense something, for he walked passed Kai and briefly touched his hand to her shoulder. 

 

"See me after this," the Zabrak said quietly, before continuing on his way. The physical contact was as out of place there, as it was unexpectedly comforting. He is not your father, Kai rebuked herself silently. You are alone here; you are alone everywhere you go. You must accept this. The only person you can rely upon, the only person you can truly trust, is yourself.

 

Almost reconciled to these thoughts, the young woman re-focused her mind just as the green skinned female initiate Kai had previously encountered made a move toward Darth Athrox. Suddenly, it felt as if the very blood in the Korun's veins froze along with every inch of her body.

 

Bold. Foolish. 

 

On top of that, the Mirialan actually made sound.

 

Irreverent. Suicidal.

 

The fact that the Sith'ari did not strike the Mirialan down where she stood, was perhaps the greatest show of mercy Kai ever thought to witness from a Dark Lord of the Sith. Or was it? What followed happened almost too quickly for her to take stock of, but the one thing blatantly obvious to the Korun was that another male  was now moving toward Yasinda. Another moment, and a weapon resembling a lightsaber was being drawn by the stranger, clearly an indication of a forthcoming aggression?

 

So quick to decimate their own ranks. Who needs Jedi as the enemy when the Sith cannot stand united?

Certainly, the green skin could use a lesson in manners, but hopefully not the kind that ends with an early and senseless demise....

  • Like 2

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Yasinda Jax    5

Yasinda doesn't waiver. She would have risen through the ranks with her nerves of steal and her brain, if she was more obedient. But she owed this many no allegiance, Yasinda had won her war already, the remnants were here scattered before her.

 

"I won't be a puppet ever again," were the only words she offered for her misconduct, releasing the gun calmly. She stares at the initiate, not running or fleeing for her life, she waits for death. Welcomes it if this had been her only option, to serve a man who's pride made him feel entitled to rule or death. She'd choose death every time.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
Guest
This topic is now closed to further replies.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

×