Private A Galaxy to Burn

[Darth Nefaron]

Anoat was unremarkable from orbit.

The atmosphere is choked with seemingly endless storms and the spew of black smoke.

It was to be well avoided by those uninvited.

But Helix had been invited.

He was to see what lay within.
​

When Darth Nefaron extends an invitation to his home, a being is faced with two outcomes to their visit. Either that being never again saw the light of day, or they would make a compact with the Dark Lord that would see them complicit in the blackest of sins. Yet one such as the War Marshal did not fear the punishment that came with death, for he was a being of logic and facts. He had seen wisdom when they spoke on Dromund Kaas; he had seen that the future of the Sith was to be found in a campaign of terror that would choke the galaxy until the light of civilization dimmed forever. Together, the Droid War Marshal and the Corpse Lord would plot and scheme and unleash a great shadow upon all who would dare stand against the tide of dread that rushed forth from the darkness of Anaot.

Once breaching the atmosphere, the scope of what Darth Nefaron sought to accomplish on this world was made clear. Great columns of smoke arose from vast wounds in the surface, streams of torch-bearing Legionaries scoured the surface as the mutated tribes that once hid away from the Dread Lord now heeded his call. No more would they scramble over polluted water or rotten flesh, for they how served a Dark Lord who would see them unleashed upon the galaxy, to bring ruin and despair to those who inhabited the green worlds, those worlds who had remained unspolied and whose people knew not what it meant to truly suffer. Yet there was much to be done still, more equipment, more slaves, more was required for Nefaron's great work to truly begin. That is why Helix had been invited, why he was necessary to the continuation of not only the goals of the renvigorated Tsis'Kaar but also to the plans of the serpent who sought to make the once great organization his puppet. Helix could be a part of this great conspiracy, or he could fall like all those who dared to stand in Darth Nefaron's way.

From his fortress, the Corpse Lord watched as the surface practically bristled with life. The storms that raged endlessly ensured that blissful darkness, a darkness Nefaron enjoyed dearly, reigned forever. He had long focused on his Apprentices, and they were indeed developing well, but it had come time to plan for the future, how he would unleash his weapons and legion. As much as he wished to simply sweep the field clean of his rivals, they remained ascendant. That would change, but for the time being, he would need to bide his time, strike deals that would see the old order come crumbling down. Now that he was secure at home, the wider galaxy seemed to be but a ripe fruit ready to be plucked.

"Have my guest join me in my laboratory. Have wine prepared."

The droid at Nefaron's back, DD-421, offered a polite bow.

"As you wish, Master."

He had such sights to show his new ally. All that remained was to ensure his loyalty.

This was easily done. He needed only to show him what was being worked on.

Such wonderful suffering. Abominations of flesh and bone.

Then he would understand.

TAGS: War Marshal Helix


​

 

[War Marshal Helix]

Helix cast an appraising glance down at Anoat's nightmarish surface, subjecting it to the same mental vivisection he did all things. The Dreadhawk gunship's keen eyes were his own, when he wished them to be, and he had an eyeful as the lander tore across the sky.

He approved. Darth Nefaron was clearly not one to encourage idle visitation. If he ever held a planet (much against his own will and doctrine) he might do much the same. The less he was disturbed by various Sith personages, the better. Of course, he rarely had that problem nowadays. His assets never stayed in one place long.

He'd brought a gift, items that he thought the Corpse Lord might appreciate. Beside him sat a small, glistening metal case, inside which were four Helcyte eggs in cryo-suspension. Two breeding pairs. It would take little time for the four to become hundreds, then thousands, then millions. Provided, of course, that they had food. He suspected there was no shortage of fresh blood on Anoat for them to feast on.

The Dreadhawk gunship chattered uneasily at him, warning him of the weather. No matter. He reminded the machine that he had designed it to be battered by far worse things than rain.

Helix coiled his consciousness tighter around the gunship's, zooming in its vision. There were flashes of what he suspected were beasts in the driving tempest, but the dropship was moving too quickly to be sure.

It wasn't an attractive planet, he noted once more. Like something out of a story designed to scare children into behaving. Most beings might have been unsettled.

Most beings weren't Helix.

The Dreadhawk arrested its momentum, and Helix stepped from its magnetic clamps onto the rain-slick surface of a landing pad. Tucking the case under one arm, he presented himself at the door, favoring the attendant droid with a blood-freezing smile.

"I'm here to have words with your master. Kindly let him know I've arrived."

To his evident surprise, he was shown inside, and down a winding rat's nest of corridors. Nefaron must have been in a hurry to see him.

The Sith's patience wasn't strained long. Punctuality was perhaps the only virtue Helix adhered to. The lanky apparition strode to meet him, raising one claw in greeting.

"You've a lovely home, friend Nefaron." He rasped. "A commendable mix of form and function. Would that a decorator's eye were not so rare a gift in Sith space. I might make more house calls." He adjusted his grip on the case, causing two fingers to coil around it with a vice-like grip. It was small in his large claw, but it would hardly do to tarnish a first impression by introducing an infestation to his new colleague's home.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

"Unfortunate that my colleagues remain ever gaudy, but you are too kind my friend. Welcome."
​

The Dread Lord stood before a large tank, an orange colored liquid surrounded a writhing mass of flesh and bone. Long had Nefaron experimented with the remains of those taken by his Legion, but only recently had he succeeded in creating something useful from the dregs that society had cast aside. On Anoat, all were made useful, even if that meant they had to become something far more terrifying than any nightmare. Still, the creature in the tank was far from ready and required careful incubation. With a wave of his hand, a think durasteel covering descended from the ceiling to hide the beast in darkness once more, until his Master was once more ready to apply his cruel talents. a

"I appreciate you making the trip, my little corner of the galaxy is far removed from the hustle and bustle of Jutrand or the coming storm that will soon engulf the Holy Worlds. I promise the trip will be well worth your while."

Nefaron beckoned for the droid that had escorted Helix to the chamber to approach once more. Though both droids were of a similar model, DD-421 was a far simpler construct, brilliant to be sure but quite limited in his understanding. He would always obey the Dark Lord, unlike Helix who would need to be offered proper compensation for any work that Nefaron had to offer him.

"As requested, Corellian Red, dated approximately to the seventh Sith Empire."

"Excellent. You may leave the bottle and return to your duties. Sound the call to assemble."

"Yes, my Master."

DD-421 left the bottle on what appeared to be a freshly cleaned examination table before taking his leave of the pair of conspirators. Nefaron wasted little time in pouring the contents of the aged bottle into two metallic cups.

"You must forgive my inability to provide the traditional glasses, there was an incident in my kitchens that saw one of my more flawed creations manage to escape from captivity and find refuge in the storage. When discovered, it did not readily agree to be caged. Rest assured, this error will be rectified for our next meeting."

Nefaron took hold of his cup and swirled the red liquid within for a moment, enjoying the aroma before taking a short sip.

"Please, unburden yourself of that case. Unless of course it contains the weapon you will use to kill me."

The Corpse Lord chuckled at the thought, he did not believe such a thing to be true but he could not help but gest. It was far more likely that a rival would attempt assault his fortress or simply bombard it from orbit, personal assassins' were becoming ever rarer within the Empire's borders much to Nefarons displeasure.

"I must applaud your creativity if that is indeed true. There are far to many complicated assassination's these days, I always did prefer something more personal."

With a gentle wave of his hands, two mechanical chairs floated across the room to rest at the makeshift table the pair had taken to using. Though he doubted Helix minded standing, it was better to do business the old fashioned way.

"Am I take it you brought me a gift? Once more you have proven to be far too kind."

War Marshal Helix ​

 

[War Marshal Helix]

Helix caught only a glimpse of the thing in the tank as the protective barricade slid over it. It was enough. Here, truly, was a kindred spirit if ever there was one. He found the thought equal parts refreshing and concerning.

Taking a seat at the table, he took the proffered cup gratefully. "No apologies necessary. It is ever the misfortune of inquiring minds to be beset by such inconveniences. I had a similar incident occur on one of my mining facilities not long ago." A multi-jointed needle proboscis formed from the colony's blank faceplate, dipping cautiously into the cup and tasting. Helix had only recently become able to enjoy such tactile joys as the taste of a fine vintage. He gained no nourishment as such from food or drink, but the experience was often worth it. Just one of many little joys his original creators had denied him, when they'd built him with such narrow focus.

He glanced down at the box when Darth Nefaron commented on it, remembering that he was still clutching with a death grip. Obligingly, he placed it on the table and slid it over. "Nothing so crude, no. I do not require bombs or blades or blasters to kill, and I'd as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself." He took another sip of the wine. "To kill you would be to do the universe a disservice. Genius only comes along once or twice in a generation." No hint of sarcasm here. He felt almost humbled by all he saw around him. Certainly, he'd built a little empire of his own, commanded endless legions of droids and far worse things, but much of that had been made while he was still shackled by the limitations that had been chosen for him. Only recently had he begun to take a look at his former bland tastes, and cringe inwardly.

Anoat was as much of a message as a planet. Artistry, of a sort, was woven into everything he saw around him. "Yes, a gift. Crude, perhaps, by your standards, but hopefully you may find some utility in it." As if by some unspoken command, the tiny box popped open, releasing a small flood of frozen vapor as four luminescent orange orbs were revealed therein, trapped in cryogenic stasis. "Helcytes. Two breeding pairs. In a year, maybe two million. I need hardly suggest to a man of your erudition that most humanoid species are hardwired to fear things that crawl."

"You need only deposit the eggs near a source of fresh prey, and they will do the rest. Left unchecked, they can threaten a planetary ecosystem. I've also found them a useful deterrent against disobedience. Becoming their prey is a... creatively unpleasant way to die."

"Again, crude, but sometimes the sledgehammer serves as well as the scalpel."

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Nefaron was a man who enjoyed gifts. ​

He was quick to lean forward, to examine the contents of the case with what amounted to glee, for his rather limited facial muscles seemed to form a smile of sorts.

"Crude? I'd hardly say such a thing. You have brought me the end of the world, a weapon that would see countless eons of biological diversity and ecological masterpieces wiped away forever. That's not even to mention their effectiveness from a purely military perspective."

The Corpse Lord bowed his head in respect, his hands, those of a surgeon in a past life, gently allowed the case to close, and for the cryogenic stasis to resume. No doubt Nearon already had terrible plans in mind for this gift, but he could enlighten his companion with those plans another day. Silently, Nefaron retrieved a holodisk from within his robes and set it on the table, allowing a red projection of the local system surrounding Anoat to take shape before the pair.

"As I offered on Dromund Kaas, the Anoat system is largely devoid of life. Dead worlds and the moons and asteroids trapped within their orbit. All ripe for plucking, as large-scale mining has not resumed here since the days of the Clone Wars. I imagine you would find quite the treasure trove of raw materials, but I have one more prize to offer you, one that I have largely ignored for an occasion such as this."

Nefaron reached forward, keying in a command to the holodisk to have the map zoom to but a single world, removed from Anaot but still within the Dark Lord's grasp.

"Gentes, hardly a paradise, but it is unique in that it is the final remaining world in the Anoat System that is habitable naturally, and rest assured, it very much is. You are familiar with the Ugnaughts, are you not? A short and hardy species, one that contained many gifted craftsmen and technicians. They are quite strong servants as well, but they unfortunately do not survive long on Anoat, for the beasts that roam the lower levels tend to view them as prey."

The Dark Lord chuckled at the thought. He had witnessed just such a thing happen many times, and as much as he found joy in it, he was in the business of preparing for galactic war and could not afford such crude entertainment.

"This is what I offer to you, my friend. Though the population has been in decline for many decades, nearly a million capable bodies and their homeworld are to be your domain to do with as you see fit. All I ask is that we explore the vast resources of this system, construct facilities to produce starships, and that your technological expertise be at hand should I need it. For all the power the Dark Side has granted me, I cannot use it to create starships from thin air."

The gift of an entire world and its population was quite the thing. Nefaron wished to doom a vast population to servitude under the unblinking eye of the Droid Warlord, and he did so eagerly, for he knew the rewards from such a thing would be grand indeed.

"Let me assure you that you can, should you wish, maintain your status and independence, though I know you have other commitments. But here, secluded from major hyperspace routes and the eyes of both Jutrand and our allies in the Tsis'Kaar, we can build up our forces. In time, I might sway you to my side, but I am content with our current partnership for the time being."

The Corpse Lord took his cup and drank eagerly, savoring a rare vintage while allowing his companion a moment to consider everything he had said.

"That is, if you wish to enter into such a partnership." ​