Private A New Power Rising

[Darth Nefaron]

Victory was at hand.

From a mere outsider in Sith space to the Lord of Terror. Darth Nefaron's rise was a sight to behold.

But he was not alone in his great work. For others had come to him, seeking common cause with the Dark Lord.

Together, they would ensure the galaxy knew the chains of servitude for eternity.
​

As he had done before, the Corpse Lord offered Anoat as the destination for a meeting of like minds. It had changed much from when Nefaron first acquired the world, certainly no Jutrand or Korriban, but it was a mighty fortress of the Dark Side and a hub for the illegal slavery operations within the Sith Empire. Then again, nearly every Sith Lord had violated imperial law at one point or another, so Nefaron was not alone in his rejection of the rule of Jutrand. Though others would join their fold in time, the gathering today would compose three beings who, on the surface, seemed completely different.

First, of course, was Darth Nefaron himself. Many consider him to be rather insane and a mere boil on the Empire, when in truth, he'd long been working to maneuver his pawns into place and ensure that the old order came crashing down.

Next was a recent guest of Anoat, Warmarshal Helix , a recent ally of the Corpse Lord, but a powerful one at that. Helix made much of the vast expansion of Anoat's manufacturing and mining possible, not to mention his grand contribution to the fleet that had begun to orbit the polluted world. While no force user, Helix remained one of the most terrifying and cunning foes one could face in the known galaxy.

The new addition was one Nefaron was familiar with but had not had the pleasure of meeting in an official capacity. Lirka Ka should not have been welcome on Anoat due to her connection to the Kainite heretics, but Helix had been compelling in his arguments to invite her into their circle. The Slavemaster General of the Kainite would prove a useful ally indeed, especially if she could be turned against her master.

Unlike his other covert meetings, this was to be an official gathering, if a secret one. The Dark Lord's guests would be ferried into his fortress by a grand escort and allowed into Nefaron's inner sanctuary, atop the grand spire of his fortress. It was here that a vast array of communication systems and manufacturing displays monitored the growing strength of the Corpse Lord's forces. Droids went about their single-minded tasks as the Corpse Lord stood at the head of a circular conference table. In the center lay a man projecting the known galaxy in an ominous red glow. Nefaron had taken the time to pinpoint major galactic events, from the fall of the Core to the Galactic Empire to border skirmishes between the Sith and the High Republic.

Surprisingly, each held an equal place at the table, a subtle sign from the Corpse Lord that he viewed all as equals and not mere servants of his will.

"I bid you dark greetings, my friends. My little corner of the galaxy lacks the splendor of the Holy Worlds, but I think you'll find I am a gracious host."

Nefaron intended to make good on that promise, beckoning for several slaves of various species to bring forth the finest wines, food from systems far and wide, and the accompanying cutlery and glasses. It seemed Nefaron had made good on his promise to Helix to acquire fresh glasses so that they might properly enjoy their beverage.

"I chose a Chandrilan red for our gathering. While it is unfortunate that the Alliance is falling to the false Emperor and his servants, I can at least celebrate the coming end of the New Jedi Order and their corrupt senate."

The Corpse Lord laughed, sipping from his glasses before directing his attention to his guests once more.

"Helix has become a welcome guest in this place, but I must extend an additional welcome to you, Lirka Ka, I have heard tell of your exploits in the service of the Kainite. I hope that we can continue to rely on your expertise for what is coming."

With a few careful taps on the terminal built into the conference table, Nefaron changed the galactic map to various list of various shipping manifests and documents on Sith law.

"As you both are aware, the vaunted practice of slavery has been rendered illegal under Sith law, religious exemptions notwithstanding. Quite simply, my friends, this cannot stand."

 

[Helix]

It wasn't Helix's first time on Anoat. He strongly suspected it wouldn't be his last, either.

It was a gamble, what they were doing today. For the most part, the Order didn't judge or even care what manner of depravity one got up to in their spare time. They were here today to consciously violate one of its relatively few taboos.

This gathering was effectively treason. Fortunately, Helix had committed far graver sins in his time. A little treachery was about par for the course at this point.

Slavery was to be the hot topic of today's brunch: a topic he figured that all present were in agreement on. For him, though, it was a means to an end. Simple good business and common sense. In Helix's view, another's rights ended where his whim began.

For Darth Nefaron , it was a sacrament. A way of life. The expression of Sith values par excellence. No matter the reason, though, monsters always trickled together into the same pools eventually. Hence, he'd invited one of the most refined monsters he knew: Lirka Ka .

Helix's red-eyed gaze flickered appraisingly over to the Once-Sephi, over the rim of his wine glass. It was a natural alliance, really. Helix didn't have room in his psyche for admiration. To admire was to admit superiority. Still, the two life forms who brought him closest to that feeling were sitting here today.

If all went well, he would be propelled to heights of influence previously undreamt-of. So influential and integral to the normal operation of things that his removal would be impossible. The goal of any good parasite.

If all went poorly, well... best not to consider that. The Emperor had ears in every dark crevice of the universe. Security and secrecy would be paramount. Time would tell if a serial murderer and a mutant slavemaster had the restraint it required.

Neither could be trusted, of course, but he felt like he understood who he was dealing with. They were monsters, and could be relied on to behave monstrously.

There were a myriad of snags and dangers to be considered, with that in mind. He'd calculated most and found the risk acceptable.

Said risks ranged from a minor impact to his faultless Sith military record, all the way up to being driven out from the Blackwall. Neither end of the spectrum was an exciting possibility, but he was confident he'd survive.

He always did.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Darth Nefaron was ultimately an unknown variable in the grand calculus of Lirka Ka’s existence - a perpetrator of atrocities, and provider of moderate entertainment when the time came to bring about some horrid manner of death and mayhem upon the Galaxy at his beck. It gave a rare, and passing, respect for a beast she had yet to meet. When the invitation to Anoat came, she would’ve been remiss not to accept.

A world of madness and cruelty, comforting in its own way. Though Lirka Ka was not a monster that allowed herself the carelessness that came with comfort - unfortunately, her gracious host’s wine was wasted on a woman who did not dare remove her helmet in the vast majority of circumstances. Ever the ascetic, her own deranged ramblings rarely allowed for such indulgences without good purpose. Even if she did feel the twitch for proper boozing every now and then when the wondrous false-colors of Neutron Pixie grew dull.

Her slit lenses watched over their little triad, Helix offered some semblance of familiarity. A believer, in his own little ways. Unfortunately she trusted him little in the grand scheme of it all, you know what they said about mechanical lifeforms after all. And certainly, anyone who reminded Lirka of herself got a certain extra scorn; she certainly wouldn’t trust her ever-slithering-and-slimy self.

Indeed, Lirka Ka was a selfish thing. A monster that ultimately served herself, and the machinations of a meritocracy beckoned by an ever uncaring darkness. She held some sway, a menagerie of a legion at her back. The title of Slavemaster General. And with that power, came the ability for this newcomer to bestow upon the corpse lord a great many gifts.

Or beckon forth obliteration.

Now, she listened to their host speak. Strumming over each word - straight to the point, an appreciated thing.

“My exploits range far, and wide. From this Empire and beyond.”

Nothing like simple facts to use as tools to gloat. Ever the narcissist, dear Lirka was. Yet there was a certain carefulness in her voice, her cards were back close to her chest once again. Things to be revealed when pertinent, few things were ever so powerful in Sithdom as information was.

She watched his map, a curious display though she had certainly grown tired of glazing over maps during her workdays aboard the distant Darklight licking it wounds near the border of Firefist. Then the evolution into the equally as dreary prospect of legal work and shipping manifests - as if she hadn’t dabbled in both enough during her proper tenure as Slavemaster General.

Of course, it took only a few words to reignite her interest. She leaned forward from her chair, ever so slightly. Trying her best to stay as cold and emotionless as a droid.

“Indeed, it is a grim travesty born of emotional foolishness. So, it begs the question - what do you intend to do about it?”

She did not wish to say the quiet part out loud. It’s not like the Emperor would just roll over and allow such a thing to be voted into legality so brazenly.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

"The question is not what I intend to do, but what we intend to do."
​

Nefaron stood from his seat, lifting his glass to consume yet more delicious wine, as he directed his companion's attention to the projector and the changing images. The truth was that the Empire's vast bureaucracy could not keep up with the expansion and number of Sith and their individual tastes and desires. Even when the Government of Jutrand sent investigators out to ascertain whether or not a violation of Sith law had been committed, they more often than not did not return alive, or at least they didn't return without a hefty bribe. This would play into the Corpse Lord's scheme, and he hoped his allies could see merit in the idea.

"In truth, we would be hard-pressed to pass any law through the Assembly as it currently stands. You have seen the chaos caused by simple proposals, but to see one as monumental as the reestablishment of slavery on a vast scale? Our weak-willed brothers and sisters in the order would ensure our legislation never even saw a vote. But the time is coming soon when Jutrand and its sycophants no longer bid us obey, for each passing day, the Emperor's grip begins to slip."

Placing his glass back down on the table, the Dark Lord showed the pair various forged documents and shipping manifests, digitally stored on Anoat for the sake of providing some legal basis for Nefaron's operations, even if all of it was fabricated.

"For many years, I have relied on my contacts in the criminal underworld to provide me with the vast workforce I require. A constant cycle of middlemen and covert payments slows my designs, and I would see this come to an end."

Once more, the image changed, now projecting a view of the Sith Empire as it existed in the southern part of the galaxy (excluding the holy worlds) and its associated trade routes. Yet even then, smaller routes had been identified by Nefaron, routes that traveled through dead or useless systems to reach Anoat.

"Quite simply, my friends, I propose we take control of the criminal underworld within the Sith Empire as the first step of our operation. Not only will we secure valuable operations in the spice and slave trade, but we will spread our combined influence to every corner of the Empire. Soon, we will flood our rivals with an influx of lawlessness and corruption to the point that we need not even bother attempting to win them over for future votes. If they wish to see their territories returned to a semblance of order, they need only support one bill."

The Corpse Lord could not help but laugh at the idea that he would end such a scheme simply because a rival supported the return of slavery. No, this was to be the opening move in a vast game that would see the influence of every being in the room rise to new heights, a new hydra that would spread its vile grasp to every corner of the Sith Empire and beyond. Speaking of which, this opening phase was but the tip of an iceberg Nefaron wished to reveal to his guests in hopes that they would see his vision as worthwhile, for their support would be most valuable in the coming years.

"This is the only beginning. Once we ensure our endless supply of slaves is restored, we can turn our attention to the downfall of the current establishment. The Dark Council, the Tsis'Kaar, the Eternalists-"

The Dark Lord's gaze drifted to Lirka, perhaps goading her, possibly studying her.

"Even the Kaininte. We three, by aligning, are committing ourselves to the eventual downfall of all of these failed rulers. Their time is done, and ours is only beginning. Both of you have... connections to men who I would see cast into the dustbin of history, but you must ask yourselves if they are worth serving if they cannot even take the throne of the Empire for themselves. Together, we can take this galaxy and ensure an eternity of torment and suffering."

Returning to his chair, Nefaron leaned back and relaxed, once more taking his glass but not drinking from it just yet. Instead, he spoke a few final words before allowing his colleagues a chance to respond.

"I have understood from the very beginning that my destiny was to put this galaxy into chains for all eternity. I believe both of you have envisoned this as well."

TAGS: Helix Lirka Ka ​

 

[Helix]

Helix was silent for a long while, receptor-clusters fixed on the holodisplay with his usual unpleasantly dissecting gaze. That stare moved for an instant to Darth Nefaron and Lirka Ka in turn. Then he spoke.

"My connections with the Tsis'kaar are business concerns. Useful business concerns, at that. I am content to ride the gravy train as long as it lasts." He drummed his bladed fingers on the arm of his chair.

"Business means money, and money means influence. At the end of the day, I remain confident that we may tug the Tsis'kaar where we like. My personal friendship with a few of their members does not blind me to the foolishness of their views. Service, to use your term, does not enter into the equation anywhere."

"In any case, I agree. The Assembly's existence strays a little too close to the foolish, democratic practices of the various weak states to our galactic north, and shares the same moral busybodying." He shook his head. "Still, I didn't design this empire, I just live in it. If you would wield corruption as a weapon, that includes weaponizing the state's apparatus against it."

"One of the most useful little strands that goes along with corruption is plausible deniability. I have maintained this at great cost over my time within the Blackwall. Everyone in this empire simultaneously believes I am in their pocket, or at worst, views me as an inoffensive curiosity." It was true. He'd given Nefaron the ships that he used to prosecute his war with Alisteri, yet where were the consequences? He'd aided Alisteri in his antagonization of Councilor Raaf, yet where were the consequences? An unpleasantly insectile chitter-laugh emitted from him.

"All the fun, none of the blame when things go wrong. The surest kill, after all, is one that another makes in your stead, with no knowledge of your inducement." In truth, it was a little simpler than that: he was shamelessly war-profiteering. Glutting himself on the kills others had made. He'd give weapons to anyone who could pay for them, for any reason, or for no reason at all. Provided, of course, that he liked the cut of their gib.

That was what separated Helix from his colleagues. It wasn't ideology that drove him, though he had his views on politics and current affairs. It wasn't even money, though he'd gotten stupendously rich from his predations. It was whimsy. He'd throw weapons and droids and ships to someone's banner simply because he found them refreshing or entertaining. His ideal universe was one big game preserve, where he was top of the food chain, and could do what he liked with whoever he liked.

Occasionally, this resulted in conflicts of interest, or appeared to. Appearances were deceiving, for in Helix's mind, the only interest that held any lasting weight was his own. If his "allies" shot each other down with weapons he'd handed them, so be it.

He didn't share the ideological hatreds or petty grudges of the other two present, and likely never would. Not unless something changed dramatically. He'd worked hard for the benefits of his current impervious deniability, and wouldn't give them up for anything.

Of course, deniability in a criminal organization had its uses...

"The Hutts..." he began, putting down his wine glass. "Have a phrase, in their tongue. Kadijic. It's most often considered an equivalent term to 'crime family'. In truth, its literal translation is 'Someone's got to have it. Why not us?'.

"The fact of the matter is that this Empire is diseased. Rotten to the core. I know it. You know it. Anyone with more than two brain cells to combine knows it. As control wanes, corruption increases, and everyone who's paying attention is already doing their best to get their cut of the spoils before the ship sinks for good. If we do not capitalize on it for our own gain, someone else will. You're correct about this, too."

"Like any dying beast, it's attracting observers. Inside and outside of itself. I'm all for getting my slice of the pie and getting out while the getting's good." He paused. "Fine. I second your proposal. As the Order reckons things, I'm little better than a criminal myself anyway. A dog they can point at whatever they don't like. They're right, too. At the end of the day, I'll never be one of them. All their various creeds and schools of thought aren't worth the flesh-parchment they're printed on."

"No, my creed is a great deal simpler, and it goes thusly."

"Take what you can. Give nothing back."

 

[Lirka Ka]

The cards were revealed. And with it, came the funniest word of all. We. To the wider galaxy, such a notion of camaraderie was called for celebration. Clasped hands and firm handshakes to herald about mutual interest - but Lirka Ka was a Sith, they were all Sith. And she most certainly wasn’t a stupid Sith. She did not believe in “we”, not really. Sith were selfish things. Deals were bartered with power, the flexing of metaphorical muscle to remind the dynamics that kept their little empire churning.

She let them both speak, the closest thing she had to a friend in Helix and this new-comer who she had gained a passing, if impersonal, respect for in Darth Nefaron

Both, chaos bringers. Souls who walked the path, even if unwittingly. But Lirka Ka was a politician, a politician that cut her teeth in the realm of Sith. So while helix may have been silent in his analytical way, Lirka Ka let her silence hang in the air oppressively. She did not need to speak, for to speak would be to diminish the card she played. Her chance to barter in power; for so long she had been just another monster in the menagerie, by intention a thing of little renown. Forgettable, really. But times changed, ranks changed, the careful power structure so designed so meticulously shifted and warped like the ever transient form of the worthy.

Click.

Click.

Click.

She sat there, silent. Nothing but the sound of a claw clicking against the table, the waves in wine untouched. Politics was like a card game, in many ways. A high risk game of Sabacc. And well, Lirka wanted to make sure they all knew she had a dominant hand. Snitching would be an effortless thing, the heads of traitors served on a platter to not just Carnifex, but the Emperor himself. She was no gutter rat anymore - Lirka Ka had weight, and she wasn’t going to be a marching doll ever again.

“The Sith are a monolith, built on lofty ambitions and endless subterfuge.”

Evidently. She was in a preachy mood. Not to be unexpected from a zealot.

“Yet it is never so simple, is it? Ambition that sees fresh monsters rise or join an endless list of losers who think they are more important than they are - I have no intention of being a loser.”

She had heard plenty of prattling about chains in her life. That was another matter to address in due time, with a subtle gesture a small holobook appeared in front of her from darkness-only-knew where hidden on that power suit.

“All ideas presented here today are apt ones. Slavery is an issue certainly quite close to home. For indeed, you speak to the Slavemaster General. Many dabble in chains, that most efficient form of suffering. The Ministry of Order has seen to the start of such a thing - the assembly has served its purpose. You are all correct, the mindless theater of politicians will be an irrelevancy.”

A tap, her book glimmered to life.

"Without strife, there is stagnation. Without struggle, there is no strength. It is our lot in life, as the worthy, to thrive in the wake of struggle. To reap the bounty of chaos, drink in the misery and suffering till it overwhelms our forms and beckons forth the transient existence of a life beneath the Primordial Darkness."

She really was a preacher, a preacher of the most aggravating variety.

"This Empire is diseased because the strife has waned. The Eteranlists perpetuate the endless war, yet it is a war turned towards those outside the Blackwall. A war that is marred by the idiotic notion that somehow they will "shatter fate" or the usual force-blind drivel I have become accustomed to. Yet what of the strife within? Alliances stand firm, and blades exist only in the dark rather than held proudly in the hands of egomaniacs. It is the nature of the traditionalist-Sith to eat each other alive like the rabid dogs they are. Yet perhaps for now, we too shall be blades in the Dark. Patient knives, plodding for the day. I do not besmirch the quest you have laid before us, Darth. It is a notion I have felt many times before in my ever-long tenure. I have seen your work, it is an impressive thing. The undead of Vassek. The fires of Ukatis. Quaint notions, potent displays. The sort of mess that is made by a measured hand."

The power hungry had a certain tune they always danced to, Lirka had certainly keyed herself to it early on. She had been put in a wonderfully long position that allowed a privilege rarely seen - observation. The watchful, patient, eye. The Sith ate each other, she knew it well. Some like herself took that to its rather literal definition - but Lirka Ka lived by many tenants, one most paramount of all: productivity.

"Today I am presented with honeyed words, and expensive wine to lure me into your plots. Lirka Ka sees your vision, I see its faults. Slavery, of course, is but a means to the end. Be it the perpetuation of the necessary conditions of struggle, or the readjusted efforts of unpaid workers levied to the production of useful goods....indeed, a situation not dissimilar to what already exists. Our Empire sits with an impoverished population nearing nigh 80% of our total sentient population. A useful asset - as dear Helix has reminded us, few things turn this Galaxy like the humble credit."

Lirka was a criminal at heart, she had been reborn in the gutter. She had scraped among scum time and time again, be it mercenary, assassin, gladiator, spice dealer, so on and so forth. She understood the prospect laid before her well - indeed, she was willing to welcome it with open arms. The best prospects were pulled from muck and mire after all.

"Seizing control of the cartels will put us into conflict with many-a-Sith that serves as overseer for the criminal rabble. Their destruction, or humiliation, is paramount. Indeed, the established forces that fester among the Meat are likely to prove little more than obstacles. They will need to be replaced by loyalists - slowly. The irrelevant worlds, the ones lost in dossiers and reports. We begin there, then like a disease of belief we will spread. We need believers, not mere scum that can be bought and paid by pretty baubles. That is a role befitting the scuttling rats we call the citizenry - a pitiful increase to income will see them turn."

Evidently, she had worked through this sort of scenario before. Her own cards flipped, slowly. The metal monster had her own machinations, the shadowy desires of a new age, and a shiny metal powersuit comfortably sitting itself upon Jutrand's throne. Yet such a thing was not earned through mere criminals, mere labor influx. It called for an army. The only true way to squeeze their fist around what they so desire.

"Yet, a prospect easier said than done. Isn't it? Once corruption swells, the governors will begin the increase militarization of PDFs - if my calculus is to be trusted. They will squeeze, they will squeeze tightly. Warriors, rising to stand in the wake of the chaos. The swelling tide of chaos, the chaos that beckons forth the true meritocracy of the strong. The disease that festers in the undergrowth."

She was, for the most part, in agreement. Yet it was as Lirka said - she did not have any intent to join the losers list. She would not move boldly, if she did not believe their path lead to success. Her slit lenses gleamed intensely at the corpse lord now, the blank faced helm and the shuddering void within the force that was her being that hid all inner thought within all-consuming blackness.

"Anarchy is a seductive concept. It whispers into your ear like a lover, to compels you to see all that is built cast aside. Destruction is a wonderful thing, yet it is a debasing thing. To see all that this Empire has built destroyed is to invite failure into what we will build here upon your corpse-littered-rock. Empires rise, they fall. Yet this, the greatest of Empires to rise in recent history, has grown mighty from the molds it has broken. Corpse-Lord. Do not mistake the words from my lips as loyalty to any of the triad, for I serve only Darkness. But we exist as we do, because the Emperor could not succeed in riding the Sith of his foes. This is an Empire of dynamics, dominance earned by whomever holds the largest metaphorical lightsaber. Indeed, you are Sith! You would know well your lot adores the dustbin of history, look at how feverishly they fought over these-supposedly-holy-worlds to the North, for tomes and ancient spirits. They obsess over the dead more than they do the living."

Observation, a time to analyze where the Sith had failed, where they had succeeded. Where their blindness hindered them and where it had not, it had given Lirka's boundless hubris the chance to map what she considered to be quintessential to Sithhood - for better, or for worse.

"Ego is to be expected. It is but another aspect of struggle, where reason can overcome hubris. I invite you, as you have invited us, to join me in the grand calculus of Sithdom. To wipe away all? A fool's errand. Useful allies exist if we are to succeed, and see the corpse dethroned. Indeed, in much the same vein - our enemies are many."

Today marked apotheosis. A triad of evil had gathered, and with this swelling darkness Lirka Ka would flex all she had earned in her long life. And she would soon show them all, the cruelest of Darths would rise from the festering muck that this Empire had built itself upon.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Above all else, Darth Nefaron was patient.

He’d waited decades for his return to known space, to unleash terror upon the known galaxy. He’d waited until the great powers of the Sith Empire were lured into complacency or weakened by internal strife. He’d waited for the perfect being to be his Apprentice.

He waited for those who saw his vision. Who saw the need for endless suffering.​

But he also knew that there would be differences of vision amongst this vaunted group. Helix was truly not loyal to anyone but himself and the plunder he might earn, Lirka on the other hand was more prophet than Imperator, yet the Corpse Lord listened to them both all the came, quietly taking in each other their points as he consumed his first glass of wine, a glass that was quickly refilled by a slave the moment it was placed back on the table.

“Mighty Imperator, you begin to sound like a true politician! You’d make for quite the Senator, but you have raised many fair and important points.”

The Corpse Lord remained standing, taking his now full glass he he began to walk around the table, passing by both of his colleagues as he continued to speak.

“Our end goals will differ. We see different futures for this galaxy, but in the end, only we three in this room truly have the vision and force of will to carry them out. Imperator Ka, I know full well of your desires, of your grand design, and the Primordial Darkness that lingers at the edges of this galaxy and the minds of all living beings. You speak of anarchy, of the destruction of Empires, and I tell you this plainly-“

The Corpse Lord paused, his free hand resting on the high back of the Imperator's chair as he leaned in to finish his statement.

“-It is necessary. I do not offer a particularly attractive vision for the future for the pair of you, but listen well when I say that the cycle the Sith have repeated over the past thousand years must end. Yes, Lirka Ka, the modern Sith practically prostrate themselves at the altar of dead Sith and their failed ideas. The House of Marr may be the worst offender, but the Eternalists and Kainites are just as guilty. I do not mock you, I simply wish to point out that the Kainite bastion is in the very same Holy Worlds to which we took great strides to defend.”

Nefaron stepped back and moved to the space between Helix and Lirka, sipping from his glass.

“But I agree with you. The old must be swept away; we have sacrificed much for the preservation of ancient worlds when we should be looking to our future, to a final victory.”

Nefaron then made his way to Helix. They had spoken prior to this little gathering and found appreciation for the others' work, but he knew full well that Helix was not a true servant; he was just as much an ally as Lirka would be in the coming months.

“Helix has raised a rather important point. If our Empire is a sinking ship, why even bother staying with it at all? Allow me to propose to you that the ship is not sinking, but it is heading toward an abyss. We are but humble crewmen executing a mutiny to correct course.”

The Dark Lord could not help but chuckle at the analogy, but it was short, and he pressed on all the same.

“Corruption, ensuring control over the cartels, is but a first step. We need to ferment open conflict within the Empire’s borders, to see the Emperor’s reign challenged on all sides. Soon enough, our combined resources and power will eclipse all who would dare stand against us. Lirka believes that not all who serve the current order need perish, and I agree. But they must be retooled, their goals twisted until they are entirely bound to us. We shall transform the Empire into a machine of terror that will be loosed on the galaxy with a united vision, a great hydra whose heads now focus on a goal we can all agree upon.”

Upon returning to his seat, Nefaron once more ceded the floor to his allies, having said his peace.

TAGS: Helix Lirka Ka ​

 

[Helix]

Helix nodded sagely at Lirka's rantings, as though they were the distilled essence of universal truth. Indeed, they might well be to a creature like him.

He couldn't say he agreed with the Once-Sephi on every particular, but for the most part she was as close to a kindred spirit as he'd ever found.

Indeed, he viewed both of his compatriots as beacons of sanity in a galaxy gone mad. People willing to call it like it was, without any pretending or false moralizing.

Their enemies certainly would not pull any punches, nor show even the remotest flicker of mercy if this endeavor should fail. Not that possible consequences frightened him. He'd become an expert in fleeing those over the centuries.

Of course, that was where Helix, Darth Nefaron and Lirka Ka necessarily parted ways. All had their own vision of the future, and one that likely wouldn't stay compatible with the rest forever. No matter. It served its purpose for the time being, and this assemblage of the Order's foulest mostly agreed where it counted in the here and now: the state needed a course correction.

"I am in agreement with Lady Ka that there are those in the Order that might be worth salvaging. We may disagree on the who and why, but we need not, as I believe the parlance goes, throw the baby out with the bathwater."

"I am a firm believer that an ally made is an enemy conquered. It's simple efficiency. Unfortunately, I also realize that many will be hopeless lost causes. At that point, they become obstacles, and there is but one way to handle an obstacle."

"Eventually, it may be worth tugging others into our collective event horizon, but security and caution should be our first goals. It would be a shame if this little party was cut off early because we got a little over-exuberant with the recruiting."

As for the other topic, Helix very much agreed with Nefaron on the pointlessness of defending the so-called Holy Worlds, but then, Helix had never shown anything but indifference for what the Sith considered sacred.

He'd noted before that the Order was a body of contradictions. Obsessed with chain-breaking, yet themselves enslaved body and soul by the Dark Side that they claimed to wield. Contemptuous of tradition, yet filled with untouchable sacred-cow people, organizations, and ideas. They said one thing and did another, and Helix considered hypocrisy to be among the gravest sins one could commit.

For whatever one could say about the two apparitions seated beside him, they were consistent. What's more, they would at least admit that the problem existed, and wanted to do something about it. As far as he was concerned, that was one hell of a virtue in their favor.

Of course, their objections to the state of things were generally ideological, rather than pragmatic. Much as he touted pragmatism to the other two, he had to admit that it was a mix of both on his end. Pragmatically, he was Helix. A scavenger, a parasite, and a predator. He smelled blood in the water. It signaled to him that there was plunder to be had, but also that it was time to give a thought to escaping when the ship sank.

Ideologically, he was a creature that loathed weakness and stasis, in himself and in others. If the state could be made to perish so easily, then it deserved to perish. Rot was nature's way of scouring away crumbling, dying edifices that had long since outstayed their welcome. In this instance, nature's course was an inevitable one. That was not in question. What was in question was just how much he could get away with taking for himself.

He was only too pleased to turn his teeth on the Order if and when it had grown too weak to resist, and didn't share any such reformist sympathies as the other two. It would be about as profitable for him if the ship sank, rather than being steered to safety by the superhuman efforts of the three of them.

If the Sith as a concept ceased existing, after all, he'd still be here. As immortal and as imperishable as ever. Or so he'd convinced himself.

He was partly here to hedge his bets, trying to position himself into an advantageous place regardless of what happened. If Nefaron's coalition managed to drag them all back from the abyss, as he claimed, then splendid. He'd be right at the shoulder of the new Lord of the Sith, in a place of unparalleled power and privilege. If not, then he had an entire corpse-state to play around in, a vast domain in which to have his fun at the expense of others. In the absolute worst, come-the-apocalypse outcome, he'd need to pack up and flee from the Blackwall. How fortunate, then, that the entirety of his assets were fleet-born. He could be 100% out of Sith space in hours, and no barricade constructed in this universe could or would stop him.

Helix calculated no possible losing scenario. Supporting this blatant treason would benefit him no matter the outcome, so here he was, plotting the deaths of untold trillions in Nefaron's basement, with a glass of excellent Chandrilan vintage beside him.

It was a fine and pleasant evening.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Enlightenment was a wide scope. It took many forms - its end result, in true success, was the same regardless of the veneer worn. But Lirka Ka knew that few were blessed with the clarity of vision that her long and miserable existence had granted to her. It was a vision granted by the void, when the shroud of the force did not blind the senses. Did not warp all it touched. The sort of vision only loss unending could finally gift in the suffering of it all. The dark divergent paths, all leading back to the End-of-all-Things.

Prophet. Imperator. Slavemaster. Moff, tyrant, governor, scum, liar. So many names, so many titles. Lirka’s life was a long one, the path winding and twisting. And now, it had brought her to Anoat. Darth Nefaron was more animated than she would have expected from a corpse, though Lirka shared little of the same excitement. Her words were razor sharp, the analysis of a soldier.

“I was politician first, Imperator second.”

The tale of Lirka Ka began with governor, the marred world of Moridinae placed into her lap and the Great Enabler Carnifex propelling her down the monstrous path that had led her into enlightenment. Indeed, much of her time in politics was more about the perpetuation of genocide against her foe - but she was politician nonetheless.

Silence followed, not out of lack of things to say. She merely wished for her fellows to lay out their piece before she went back to her calculus. Her slit-lenses never left the mobile form of Nefaron, it was foolish to trust a sith entirely when on their own turf. Even one as outwardly friendly as the corpse-lord, and in a situation beckoning peaceful alliances like the one they found themselves in.

As the corpse leaned closer, she could examine. He was a fleshy thing - though appearances were rarely as they seemed. Unlike the mighty steel of her own visage, and the great colony that formed up dear Helix . The great humor of flesh, and for that moment as he leaned Lirka Ka pondered which of the great many shivs hidden upon her person she could jab into him the fastest. Though she let the violent impulse subside, there was no need. Not yet at least.

She need to listen, observe, argue. Weigh her options and see which of the many paths furthered her goals - indeed, the nodding from helix helped steel her resolve some. Her truest of allies, fewest of friends, and the person in the room she ultimately trusted the least. Yet, in his own mechanical way, he was a believer. And Lirka knew to keep in the graces of a believer.

When she finally spoke again, it was in the matter most befitting of a prophet. Colloquialisms and analogy. The prattling of a zealot, yet it was not a prattling in pure disagreement.

“The hydra coils with many heads, yet all are attached to the body.”

Disagreement was to be expected, encouraged even in its own little way. The path was long, winding, it evolved and twisted to fit that who walked it. But Lirka understood, it all lead to the same place. No matter how many times it turned and weaved.

“If you understand me so well, if you understand the Darkness Beyond Darkness. Then you can understand why I bring this brief strife upon you, gracious host. You must understand the opposition between all things, life and death, light and dark, stagnation and change, so on, so forth. I would never decry the necessity of death, anarchy, and paramount of all: suffering.”

A pause, briefly.

“Our dear marauding friend understands as well, the necessity of suffering and transience. Yet, I invite to both of you a most pertinent reminder. The future is not attractive, nor is it ugly. It is merely the future. But there is one true future, beyond the machinations of men. And it is the end. I say this, because I hear your words well, Darth. I would not wish failure upon you, so I must gift to you my wisdom. Cast aside your thoughts of destiny, they will do you no good.”

She was perhaps, ever so slightly insane. In her own, bizarre, cold, and uplifting way. There was perhaps a timeline where she had become a rather subpar motivational speaker instead of a mass murdering monster.

“I believe in success, as I have mentioned. Success for all the worthy, the true survivors in this Galaxy we live that shall persevere unto the one-true-destiny of life. And yet in grand amusement, we see the cycle of Sithdom repeat, a perseverance across 10s of thousands of years. Yet, a stumbling thing. It warps, it changes, cursed with stagnation and foolishness all same. I do not disagree, the Sith must transcendent. Pierce the veil that has been cast over them by ancestors whose names they do not remember.”

Lirka’s transcendent sith had been a hushed thing, the ravings of a madwoman shared in good company…and all things considered, she was in good company today. She merely needed more believers, more who understood the universe as she saw it. And with believers at her side, the clawed hand of Ka could make her bid for power.

It was enough to almost bring a frown to face to be lumped in with the average Kainate loyalist. Carnifex’s sycophants were an endless menagerie - but she was more than them. She loved Kaine Zambrano dearly, in the twisted and monstrous love that a tyrant could muster. But that was love for a man, and all that he could offer her - it did not inherently extend to his Empire.

“The Sith have a veneration from that which is intangible, ancient history is much more enticing than that which still lives and breathes. So much history, and its value rarely truly gleamed. I would not ever disagree about the dangers of the Marrs, and in a brief moment I shall extrapolate on such a thing. Yet I would implore you to recall such recent history, the Eternalists were a development upon the old. They did not go far enough. The Kainate thrives in the supposedly-holy worlds as a matter of diplomacy, than direct choice.”

Her hands clasped, and preaching began to evolve into the militaristic mind of a general once more.

“One must look at the civil war that beckoned forth the birth of our Empire, what brought the Kainate to inhabit the holy worlds. How did the new, the rising Empyrean stand against an ancient monolith of power like Carnifex? It was simply, the blocs stood in unity. With the combined might of the Tsis’Kaar, and newfound Eternalists - they found themselves in the dominant position. You are correct, open conflict must be fermented. We must bring about the next war, merely it shall be us who controls the dominant bloc.”

She glazed over them, their little triad of evil. Where machinations formed and monsters plotted the rebirth of an Empire.

“Helix, wise as ever. Speaks true. Why stay upon a sinking ship? Because around the ship, is water, nothing. Perhaps we could form a new ship, from the scraps that fall as the ship collapses. But that is slow. So you are indeed correct, mutiny is the option. Retool the ship to our needs. But 3, is not enough for a ship housing trillions. An ally gained, an enemy conquered. The eternalist strategy should be copied if we are to succeed, a war upon two fronts is far more reasonable than one with three.”

Now, she had to relay the thought that she didn’t think any of them would particularly enjoy, but it was was her calculus demanded. The practical option.

“I believe, to what I am to assume will be the chagrin of you both, I can in time woo the Butcher King to be sympathetic to a change in leadership. The Kainate represents the second largest military bloc within our Empire, if we can gain even indifference it would be grossly beneficial to continued survival.”

Another pause to finally breathe, and she continued.

“In the matter of security and our continued state-of-living, I believe our truest foe almost needs not be spoken. If we are to succeed, the Tsis’Kaar bloc must be weakened or turned. The inquisitoris will presented our largest hurdle, with the assassins turned the shadows can become our allies - till the day comes to present ourselves.”

She understood, that in legal terms, she was speaking to two members of said bloc. But considering everything else being spoken of today - she sincerely doubted that they were all too firm in their loyalties. As if any Sith was truly loyal.

“What say ye’, my friends and allies? In that time where we plot, work must be done to secure our most assured allies. 3 can grow quickly with the right effort exerted - to that end, I believe I can reactivate my daughter Nova Ka to the cause. The girl would make a fine Capo.”

They were allies, ultimately. Disagreement was a thing Lirka did not scorn. Even if she wasn’t sure where her blade and Nefaron’s would end up in the years to come…of course, she also wasn’t entirely confident she could get her precious monster to follow the plan. But mother knew best, and the prospect of power should’ve been tempting to any good Ka.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

This. This is what he wanted.

Not simple insults. Questioning the power of this Dark Lord ot that.

He wanted solutions. He wanted a united vision.
​

While Nefaron certainly did not buy into the cult-like claims of the Empire's newest Imperator, he did concede that she was to be essential to the success of any plot moving forward. If she spoke true, if the butcher king could be swayed to support a regime change that saw anyone but himself take the throne of the Sith, then that would be a mighty boon indeed. He did have to wonder, though, if she spoke true in not desiring the Corpse Lord's downfall, for such a thing would be the way of the Sith.

Then again, she was no true Sith, was she?

No, that Nefaron minded. Helix could not even touch the force, and he had already proven to be a most excellent partner in seeing the Terror Lord's vast forces expand in power and capability. The Sith Empire should be ruled by one who has mastered the Dark Side, but that did not mean that those who served should be but puppets. Merit would see them triumph as a new power block, not slavish obedience to yet another Sith'ari claimant. Though the galaxy would be bound forever in servitude, that did not mean Nefaron would be the sole being to profit from it.

"You offer us much, mighty Imperator. Carnifex is a potential boon to our cause should he be properly swayed. In the end, he will need to be disposed of if we are to rise, but that is for another time. I agree that our alliance is in need of worthy servants, and if indeed your daughter would prove useful, then we shall bring her into the fold. Helix, my friend, the system you suggest may just bear fruit."

But there was more. As Ka mentioned, they all now shared a foe, an internal enemy that threatened their alliance. Nefaron sipped from his glass for a moment, venom entering into his words.

“The Tsis’Kaar must be brought low. As you said, Imperator, destiny must not factor into the future we build. The House of Marr, and Darth Malum in particular, have long clung to false nobility as a result of their tenuous connection to a long-dead Sith Lord. While they might have proved useful pawns, we must now look to the end of the pathetic organization."

Once again, the Corpse Lord sipped at his wine, nearly draining the glass before he carried on.

"Malum has grown isolated. He is now backed into a corner, which makes him both vulnerable and supremely dangerous. That being said, Helix and I already sit as advisors on his council. Should the Tsis'Kaar begin to collapse, we are in a prime position to salvage what is useful. There remains but one problem, however."

Tapping a command into the projector, the masked face of Darth Strosius appeared before the group.

"Malum has but one remaining voice of reason at his side. I say this openly to both of you, Darth Strosius and the Order of the Wonosa must be destroyed if we are to succeed. Helix, my friend, I know you and Strosius were at one time close, but I call upon you to hold to what you have told me. At our side, we will smite the High Prophet and put his people into chains as a reminder to all who oppose us."

Nefaron asked much, but the death of Darth Strosius is more than a personal grudge. He represents everything the Sith should not be in Nefaron's mind, and therefore, every trace of him must be wiped from existence. Yet he also knew that his allies had other concerns than a simple Sith rivalry, and he sought to be a gracious host.

"My friends, this is a council of equals. I ask you to aid me in destroying my enemy, and I offer the same. Speak now, let us discuss our enemies, those who stand in the way of our rightful dominion over the Empire."

TAGS: Lirka Ka Helix ​

 

[Helix]

Helix let out a snort of amusement, causing a toothy smile to ripple across his blank visage for a moment. "I have no enemies, only customers, obstacles, and occasionally dinner guests. Not many allies either, save you and Lirka Ka . Two of those are categories one really, truly does not wish to land in. No, no enemies at present, but I have a feeling that will change as we gain prominence. Our ascension will most likely not be taken well by our colleagues in the wider Order."

Helix was beginning to find Nefaron's obsession with Strosius troublesome. It was true that the colony had rather parted ways with his former employer. It was also true that Helix had no interest in burning that bridge entirely. Not yet, at any rate.

Strosius had been the reason he had much of what he had. His foot in the door to the Sith and all their riches. Deep down, very deep down, the colony had a measure of gratitude. Gratitude enough to keep him from ever taking up the task himself. Strosius had earned that much.

Still, he didn't deny that Nefaron had the right to settle his quibbles. There was no law against it, and telling him to focus on the bigger picture would likely be futile. No, the best he could do was play along and let them fight it out. As such, he'd hand Darth Nefaron the tools for the job. Their preoccupation with one another would allow him to continue slinking around out of the spotlight.

"You'll have more weapons and ships to prosecute said war, never fear. After all, you've already more than paid for them, and I'm an honest businessman." Helix finished his glass of wine off and slid it to one side.

"No doubt the boy has already divined that much, given I did make the armaments of the last bunch a bit... distinctive."

Helix's mass-compound intelligence clicked for a few micro-instants over the schematics of the new Orthanc-class raiders. Every detail of their construction was encoded throughout his being. Strange vessels, arcane implements, very recognizable. His signature on them was as plain as if it were etched across their hulls. Of course, the time for plausible deniability was shrinking fast. He'd need proper war vessels soon.

"The next batch are intended to be proper battleships. Large, powerful, expensive. But they'll do the job, I think. As it stands, they'll likely be doing double duty as mining transports. The harvest from the Anoat system has been... lucrative."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Few rarely understood the religious prattle that Lirka droned out. They simply hadn't lost enough. One did not pierce the veil and gaze upon the Primordial Darkness till they were at their lowest, when there laid but two paths - accepting demise, or to struggle and be reborn. Lirka had chosen the latter, many times.

There laid a question. Was Lirka Ka a Sith? To the traditionalists - certainly not. Or was she something else?

Something new.

Something horrible.

A transcendent path. For one who had stumbled upon such grand evil not by the corrupting influences of the Force, nor the illustrious whispers of the Dark Side and its power. No. Lirka Ka had become the monster before them all on her own. The first of a new breed.

Certainly a path in life that will earned…ire. Though Lirka was more than used to it now. Darth Nefaron and herself would not see eye to eye, that much she understood. Perhaps once Anoat was aflame and his precious wine cellars were little more than rubble and dust he'd see things her way - but that point hadn't come yet.

Beneath her helm, she grinned that wicked grin she so often did when her ego was satisfied. She knew she offered much to this little assembly, indeed she desired to have the biggest stake in the development of their cadre of evil. Lirka Ka trusted no one, but she understood rats. They would not bite the hand that feeds if they are smart. And the intelligence of her compatriots was not in question.

Silence remained as she let their host finish. Some of it was expectable, other remained things to be filed away for a later date. The butcher king was a touchy subject for most - one best left ignored. Age did not bring popularity, as Lirka had come to understand. Though it was always a thankful thing to see comrades share enemies.

"It is good to see we are in agreement. Our foe lays bare before us, their bellies exposed. Strosius and his Wonosa are pests, gnats nibbling at the ankles of their betters. But the Tsis'Kaar? Those wretched assassins? They must be not just brought low, they must be shattered."

The war had never really ended for Lirka Ka. Not truly. She may have kept on a quaint visage of alliance, but she knew the time would come for the blow to be struck. The blade turned back around, so the assassins would reap the suffering that they had brought about when they enabled their Emperor to rise.

"There is no greater danger than those butchers who scuttle in the shadows. The assassins, the inquisitors, those that would seek to invade our domain."

Crescendo was rising, Lirka's words began to grow more animated. The fire in her chest rumbled - she was getting motivated. Lirka's ambitions aimed high, and were never satisfied.

"There shall be chaos, and in chaos there is strength. In the pandemonium of the Tsis'Kaar's shattering let us reach out, claws reaching to grasp what is rightfully ours. We have heard the creed here today, one of the simple cosmic rules. Take, or be taken from."

Helix had certainly laid out a very enjoyable train of thought. Plunder without regard. To indulge in the chains of base and savage instinct so that they'd paradoxically become free.

"So let us take. Let us raise black banners beneath blood red skies, a galaxy in chains must be a galaxy aflame. Do you hear them rattling my fellows? Each of us, so different, and yet links in the same cosmic chain."

Of course, there was always to be something sort of cosmic mania when dealing with Lirka Ka.

"Dzara. Have you heard the word? The word for chain in the language of the High Sith. A dirty word, so often. Chains only a thing to be broken by those enslaved by tradition. But not us. We who have embraced our chains, those feelings most base. Greed. Wrath. Terror. So let us take, and make the word our own. The Dzara. The transcendent few, who have risen beyond the need to break our chains!"

She paced now, in that zealous fervor of a monster with a plan.

"Assassins reforged. An armada formed. A legion remade. In our triad let the next great power of the Sith form from the ruins of what we destroy. We, the chaos bringers. We, the chainbound. In our strength, let us reap our dark reward."