«
This is treason, you know it as well as I.»
A young Darth Ophidia hissed at the Voice of the Dark Lord, Darth Vornskr.
«
It must be done.»
His retort was calm, deadpan.
«
Then what is the difference between us and Mephirium? We might as well have let them finish the job.»
The battle was fresh in mind, and if there was a time to strike it would be now. These servants of Darth Sortis knew secrets the rebels did not, and the choice of whether the Dark Lord would live or die was made in this moment
«
Faith, my friend. Faith is what separates us from those ravenous dogs.» «Consigned into the hands of the faithless, our Order will be destroyed.»
Darth Ophidia was quiet as she contemplated. The Dark Lord was the only one able to keep the Sith in line, but he was growing unstable. Everywhere, he saw enemies. Every day, her list of targets grew longer and more diverse. Her lips thinned.
«
There will be chaos. They will turn on one-another. Power must be asserted swiftly if we are to maintain control.»
She considered it, and he could tell. Her mind was piecing together the pragmatic elements.
«
Our adversaries will be undermined by their own greed. We must join ourselves with others who see our vision, together we will be too strong of a vanguard to overcome. This new Dark Council will be the impetus of our new order.»
The Pale Assassin nodded, her eyes lifting to meet his as an alliance was struck.
«
For the Order then.»
Treason.
Darth Ophidia had long pondered their actions on that fateful day, when they ended Darth Sortis in the bowels of the One Sith’s temple on Coruscant. Before that day, she was a dedicated acolyte to the Dark Lord. Before that day, she never looked up beyond the power of her master. They called her a master, but she never truly achieved the insights of mastery until the supreme power of the One Sith lay dead before her feet.
Hence her ambition knew no bounds.
Their clandestine grab for power had forged an alliance between the conspirators. The Sith Assassins had supported Darth Carnifex in the establishment of the Sith Empire, a pact signed in the blood of malcontents. She had spearheaded the establishment of new recepticles of knowledge and hounded the secrets of their enemies. Yet, she had not made a move on his place as the Sith Emperor.
She had his life in her hand on Mandalore, and yet the alliance made her stay her hand.
For the Order.
The armoured and dark-robed Pale Assassin strode briskly through the halls of Malsheem. The heels of her boots clicked against the floor. Her ember-eyes were set on the distance with purpose, alerting those who pondered her presence that she did not have time for their doubt. Not all mind-tricks relied on the Force; often, a force of personality could accomplish as much.
The accumulated trust of a long alliance had awarded her much movement. Yet, there were doors that were locked for her as well. Fortunately, bypassing barriers was something of a speciality. Fortunately, she had aid in the form of
Dvasia . If he could only maintain his cover for long enough, she would make good time.
She turned left, but to the cameras she appeared to turn right. Even the sound of her boots clicked on to the right as she vanished under her cloak of shadows. Swiftly, the assassin moved toward the inner sanctums, while her illusory self moved through its set route.
Success or death.
