Diplomacy with Benefits [Primeval/OS]

[Boethiah]

The Primeval Fleet had become more active since their first engagement with the Imperial Remnant -- an enemy that was still new to them -- the onset of friction with a mysterious group of Jedi, and whispers from the eastern fringes; Anja Aj'Rou had been eagerly planning out their next move. The Gods were somewhere near the center of the galaxy and scattered pieces of their past were hidden on various worlds, it was just a matter of time. Not if. One of their more recent assets [member="Jorda Ulluto"] had precious information about the Galaxy at large and one particular faction that intrigued her were the Sith. The One Sith.

"Put me in touch with them.", Anja said sitting in her private chambers -- an intercom officer on the bridge was transceiving a holo signal. "I wish to speak with these Sith.", she added. The thought had crossed her mind; she was quite curious as to who they were. Hearing stories of the Sith as a child had created an appearance in her head of diabolic conquerors who commanded legendary powers, only to be defeated age and age again by the even more mysterious Jedi. She had captured two Jedi since their entry in the Galaxy thanks to the ingenuity of her agents but the concept of these 'Orders' had done little more than indulge intrigue. Nonetheless the Sith fell into place well with the plans the Primeval had and if they were going to search the galaxy and consider their divine duty they'd need support from someone. What could these two gain in dealings? What of these tales were true? Time would tell as usual, patience was a virtue they currently had. Those they've faced previously were in no position to announce the fact to the galaxy; a crime syndicate and a fallen empire.

The officer aboard the bridge nodded silently as the transceiver disconnected, turning to the intercom officers. "Let's hope the Zeltron's information is accurate. Prepare to send out a message to these Sith.", the gentleman spoke with a deep and grungy voice.

To the Sith:​

*Static*
Your legendary reputation proceeds you,​

we -- The Primeval -- have heard many stories.
Stories of conquest, death, chaos. Tales of,​

Greatness and war. Our Host Lord, Harbinger of Nogras, ​

has requested a diplomatic engagement with one who speaks on your behalf.
Send all responses to this signal: Encrypted.
May the Gods favour you.
*Static*​

​

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Coruscant was slowly turning into a paragon of the One Sith's envision for a united galactic order lorded over and guided by the hand of their esoteric Dark Lord of the Sith, whom had faced death many times and come back from the void to shower forbidden knowledge upon his most faithful of servants. To a Sith like Vornskr, the Dark Lord was the physical and spiritual embodiment of the Dark Side, and he had been serving the Dark Lord willingly ever since he was introduced to the entity many moons ago. It was a dark time for the Sith, a bleak time, fraught with disorder and chaos, but the Dark Lord brought them all together under a single banner. He bound them to a single will, a single vision for the betterment of all life in the galaxy, and of a dream of total domination over all that breathed. It was a dream that Vornskr had sought all of his adult life, and he had been so close to achieving his goal in the past, but had fallen so miserably short in the face of adversity against his sworn nemesis.

The Jedi.

When the time came for him to prove his worth, and display his awesome might for all of the galaxy to see, he had been smote low on Dac. Against the Jedi Council, the then-Sith Emperor fought with the ferocity of a cornered animal, but in the end he succumbed to their combined might and was clad in irons. His story would have ended there, en route to Coruscant to stand before the Jedi and receive his death sentence, and for a moment he had despaired and practically surrendered to his ill-timed fate. However; the Force would have him play a different role in the grand scheme, and before he could be condemned to die he was sprung from his prison by agents of the mysterious One Sith. They saved him from oblivion, and thus he pledged himself to a Dark Lord that made his own considerable power minuscule in comparison! From there Vornskr was witness and participant to a series of strategic victories against their hated enemy, and he watched as their lines crumbled and cracked against the might of the Sith, and once again he felt the unimaginable power and strength that had coursed through his veins before his fall.

Now, on the eve of another offensive against the Republic and the Jedi, the Voice of the Dark Lord found himself alone in his quarters on Coruscant. For days now he had been pouring over a seemingly endless supply of historical documents dating back to nearly every era. He was in the process of reading an article detailing the Battle of Jabiim when the holocommunicator on his desk light up and began to blink insistently. Slightly agitated at this intrusion into his studies, he almost had half a mind to telekinetically throttle whoever had the stones to call him at this hour. However; he retained himself as he activated the machine with a nudge of his finger, and was greeted by the image of one of his communications officers dressed in the black form-fitting garb of an Imperial.

"You better have a good reason for this intrusion, Captain. You know how I detest being annoyed."

The Captain, being experienced with the Sith Lord's mannerisms, simply bowed deeply and spoke in a clear and calm voice:

"A thousand thousand pardons, my liege, but we received an encrypted transmission directed for the Empire as a whole. We traced it's general point of origin back to your sector, and found it appropriate to bring you up to speed on this development as fast as we could."

"Very well, Captain. Display the message."

The Captain's image was replaced by a brief wall of text that detailed a diplomatic message for the One Sith from an organization ominously named The Primeval, which caused Vornskr's right eyebrow to rise in curiosity. He had never heard of this group before, but then again whether that was attributed to an honest ignorance or a lack of caring was not clear. However; it was his duties to respond to such a plea, even if it was from a group of people he had never heard from before. From the sounds of it, they were not unlike the Yuuzhan Vong that the One Sith had been working alongside for quite some time, as both the Primeval and the Vong were heavily religious in their worship to deities. Then again, they could also be like the Moross in the galactic South, but whether or not that was the case remained to be seen. Vornskr brought up the keypad with a swipe of his hand, and began to type out his reply.

To the Primeval:​

Your plea has intrigued us.​

The Voice of the Dark Lord will treat with you at your chosen location.​

We patiently await your reply.​

Kruso tave Jen'ari. «Hail the Dark Lord.»​

​

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Gulamendis had undergone several changes since aligning itself with The Primeval; the anarchic society had more or less converted to the true faith. High King Ozuvyn Sar-Sargoth was fierce and loyal to anyone who could promise him war and death. The worship of darkness that had driven the Sephi mad had been enlightened by the Bleeding Sun, the inquisitorial force within The Primeval's central government. Although not particularly interested in politics nor personal gain, they still required a government to maintain order. This ironic status had created an almost quirky society that was regularly purged of nonbelievers. Nonetheless they were open to potential allies -- regardless of motives and belief -- because it meant support of their true ambitions. If it meant finding their Gods and therefore their afterlife, it didn't matter much what happened amongst the Galaxy. Their supporters were free to build empires, become despots, and bring death to their enemies. Only those who stood in their way would be seen as their enemies. The Imperial Remnant as more or less been the target of the most recent incursion but soon too new opponents will block their pilgrimage.

Anja was waiting on the world below, going over recent events when she received word that the One Sith had responded to her request. "Your Worship, we've received word: They're willing to meet you at your desired location.", a servant bowed deeply before his Host Lord; clad in robes marked by the symbol of the Bleeding Sun. A smile engrossed Anja's face at the thought. Choosing the right location would be an important step for creating a first impression with the Sith. "Send them here: Gulamendis.", she thought of it before she said so; the epicenter of death was a good choice. She'd choose no ruses, they may have been zealous and destructive and despite being an Umbaran she wasn't fond of slyness when real diplomatic measures were being done. Of course that didn't necessarily mean she'd reveal all their motives but a certain sense of trust must be maintained if one were to ever build a relationship. The servant nodded -- like the other he did so without word before pulling away and walking off to send notice. A followup went out to the Sith.

To the Sith:
Gulamendis. Coordinates attached.​

​

The message was quite short but there was no need for delay.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The message was received, the location found, and the Voice began his trek to the dismal world of Gulamendis.

He traveled in a his own personal vessel, the Sicarus-class Stealth Yacht nicknamed the "Blade of Panatha", although it was often referred to as the "Bsoki", which roughly translated to "Blade" in Epicant. The vessel was outfitted with the standard equipment one could expect from a stealth yacht, and it's luxurious interior was influenced by the war-centered art and architecture of the Epicanthix people, of which Vornskr was Emperor. Besides himself and his pilot the Voice of the Dark Lord brought six of his mightiest warriors along with him, not only as a precaution towards any dubious circumstances that might occur during this meeting, but also as a show of personal strength to the Primeval. They were outfitted with a crimson variant of the Blackblade combat armor that the rest of Vornskr's warriors wore, and each of them wielded a single lightsaber pike with a crimson blade. The Voice himself wore a suit of ornate armor covered by a heavy zeyd-cloth cloak, and his face was obscured by a horned helmet that was designed to resemble a leering skull.

The "Bsoki" emerged from the depths of hyperspace above the desolate world of Gulamendis several days after their initial message, and after showing their credentials they were given the green light to descend into the planet's atmosphere. From the yacht's viewports he could understand why this was chosen as their designated meeting place, for their reasoning was not unlike Vornskr's own in regards to his entourage of armored warriors. This was a site of their conquest, a world that they had brought to heel, and in itself a show of their own might to the Voice of the Dark Lord. He would not lie and say he was not pleased by the Primeval's choice, but it would take more than a death-world to convince the representative of the Dark Lord that they were worthy to align with the One Sith for the betterment of the galaxy. Perhaps they had more to show him, but Vornskr would find out all answers to his numerous questions soon enough.

The yacht landed at one of the many towering structures in the ecumenopolis, and from the ship's hold emerged the Sith Lord and his soldiers, all tall and imposing with an aura of bitterness and aggression that could almost curdle the very air with it's rank brutality. The Sith Lord led the small group towards the building's entrance, and as he approached he spoke out to any soldiers of the Primeval that he could find.

"I have come to seek an audience with the Harbinger of Nogras. Will my presence be denied by the Lords of the Primeval?"

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The Gulandi -- Sephi corrupted by darkness -- hid amongst the the spiraling structures of seemingly no apparent design. The warriors eagerly awaited the possibilities. Many of them were still unused to The Primeval rulership and although Ozuvyn was still their High King, they were submissive to the orders that they were not to attempt the salvage of the Sith and his vessel as usually was their way of life. One might even notice that the work built into the city itself was that of parts from countless pirate vessels, smuggler ships, and derelict fleets which accumulated themselves on the ghastly world. The Sith Lord's voice was heard loud and clear; Anja Aj'Rou approached the venerable figure from her place amongst the shadows, walking ahead of the pack. Following her were Sephi, Umbarans, and an assortment of alien slaves -- most dressed in robes and garments much befitting their low status. Anja on the other hand was clad in her usual armour, clearly made for agility, it definitely breathed well and did little to hinder her movements. In arm was a ceremonial scepter which was held at the shoulder when idle or elevated at her waist when moving.

She began pacing herself forward before stopping only a few meters away to give comfortable space to her guest. Anything else would be seen as aggressive to some and she wasn't exactly someone who got personal all too often. The strikingly pale eyes glared hollowly towards the Sith, rotating slickly to take in all of him. One hand of hers measured its way slowly before resting on her hip, the scepter gently pressing against her shoulder. "I will not deny you anything, Voice of the Dark Lord.", she readjusted her posture and slighted at her own curiosity towards the figure. "Do you speak for him now?", she asked. The company of followers stood behind her and around her sides, giving plenty of personal space to their master. The rancid smell of death carried over the light breeze that moaned throughout the weave-work spires and structures, followed by the occasional scream of an unlucky denizen.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Voice of the Dark Lord turned to face the newcomer with his full attention, and slowly crossed both of his arms over his chest as he beheld the entourage she brought with her. He was pleased to see the alien assortment of her people being put where they deserved to be put, as worthless slaves that lived only to serve the superior races of the galaxy. He also noticed several Sephi and Umbarans in her company, and a distant thought of [member="Darth Janus"] floated across his mind before he looked once again to the Host Lord and spoke in a voice that was both terrible and great. "I speak for the Dark Lord, but whom do you speak for, Harbinger of Nogras?" He took a single, solitary step towards his hostess and her assorted menagerie, and with a smooth simple motion he detached the clamps keeping his helmet attached to the gorget of his armor, and slowly pulled off the visage of leering skull.

The true face of the Voice of the Dark Lord was one of grotesque war. Once there might have been truly beautiful facial features, but now any remnant of such was smothered by the scars of war that trailed across his face like the results of some taboo mutilation ritual. The entire right side of his face was seared beyond belief, the charred bones of his cheek poking out through the smoldering desolation of his flesh, and as his mouth curled into a smile it made it all the more ugly. His hair was a graying black, and flowed down past his shoulders towards the middle of his back, while his facial hair remained confined to a thick goatee with a long flowing beard that covered his neck. His eyes, one a bright emerald flecked with sulfuric yellow and one that was completely foreign to the Sith Lord's body that seemed to wiggle in it's socket with a lilac iris, stared down at her with such a piercing gaze that it could be theorized he was staring directly into her soul, judging it's worth.

"You have called upon the Sith for diplomacy, and I have come to answer your call, and treat with you. However; I must see more of your people, show me what you have to offer the Sith."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The face of this Sith Lord reminded her of the elder ones back on her homeworld; scars marking his body like a canvas timeline of every struggle he's taken part in. A reminder of every victory that kept him alive and surely he had more to tell; these were just her own thoughts. Anja's ears soaked in everything he had to say, closing her eyes and inhaling the intoxicating fervor before taking a few steps back. "I speak for The Primeval and the Starmaker.", she raised her tone above that of earlier before twirling back into the direction she came; beginning to pace her steps in that direction. "I'll show you.", she then added without much elaboration. Those at he back quickly pulled themselves out of her way and took steps back in gesture to allow the Sith a clear path to follow. Anja herself would disappear around a corner where a sound of many distant voices, chanting, and others could be heard faintly amongst the ghastly screams, phantom winds, and the distant reminders of war machines readying themselves.

Behind the curtain as one might put it a force of Sephi were accumulated in a vast pit amongst the city's center, several could be seen bashing each other's skulls in as the Umbaran soldiers of The Primeval Fleet overlooked the scene like grand caretakers with a few of the Sephi's higher ranking members of society. Further back the silhouette of the High King's palace looked down on the location like a cesspool. Anja stopped just at the edge of a balcony reserved for Officers and those such as herself, glancing down. "This is how we choose the worthy. The rite of suffering and pain for those chosen and servitude or death for those incapable.", the Umbaran woman's eyes darted around before she turned and took a step back to give him a better view.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Vornskr trailed behind his host silently as she led them further into their lair, the only sound accompanying them were the howls and shrieks of a death-world, and the low thrum of his soldier's boots marching not far behind. What she led him to was a spectacle not unlike many he had seen before, however; he was once again pleased by what they have shown him thus far, and his eyes twinkled with dark merriment as he gazed into the slaughter below. He chuckled darkly and cast a gaze in her direction, "This is not unlike something you'd see on my homeworld, Harbinger of Nogras. My people weed our the weak and invalids through ritual combat, and only the strong will survive to lead. The dead will die an ignominious death, and will be forgotten. Such is the way of things." His gaze returned to the fighting in the pit, his heightened senses catching practically every little thing that transpired within from the subtle shifting of a warrior's body to the grisly mutilation of flesh.

He gazed down there for some time, but eventually he returned to gaze back at the Harbinger. "This pleases me very much, Harbinger. Your people's ideals and methods are not unlike mine own, and those of the Sith. However; strength is not the only factor, as it is also tempered by cunning and strategy, and for this union to thrive I must bear witness to such things. Show me this, and I will be pleased, and so will the Dark Lord of the Sith."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja turned back slightly at his latest comment, relaxing the scepter and allowing it to dangle just above the ground. "I thought you might ask as much.", her words were hushed a bit under the sound of what happened below before taking a few steps towards the right near an entrance way. "Bring him out.", her voice echoed towards the corridor to command a yet-to-be-seen presence. She had prepared an example of their indoctrination techniques, one well under way to becoming the latest servant of The Primeval but one still rebellious and in chains. "I wondered about these Jedi, fabled enemies, yes?", the added question was a remark to the extra guest. A Jedi that had been captured.

Gulamendis was not unused to Jedi, after all their Emissary to The Queen was formerly a Jedi and just like her so would he.

[member="Tesar Osted"]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Eternal enemies, yes. The battle between the Jedi and Sith has raged for thousands and thousands of years, but this time we will erase them from the very history books, and only the Sith shall remain supreme." The veil slipped slightly, and some of Vornskr's extreme devotion to the Dark Lord and the One Sith came to the surface that manifested itself in the swiftness of his words and the passions that fueled them. His curiosity was now at it's apex, and he beheld the Harbinger and whatever she was about to unveil to him with his complete and total attention. "Our conviction against the Jedi is our greatest strength, and when we stand united under the will of the Dark Lord, there is nothing that can stop our advance. Now, what is it you have in store for me, Harbinger?"

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Tesar Osted]

Two hooded figures flanked the beaten Barabel man. His scales were slightly faded in color, not from the fact that he had been locked inside of an isolation chamber for what seemed like weeks, but from malnourishment. The once muscular and proud body was a shriveled husk compared to it's former glory. His hands were bloody and raw from clawing at the walls, his forehead enlarged from banging his head on the floor and walls as he slowly felt himself going insane and lastly the scales skin around his wrists was red and flaky from the shackles that plagued his wrists. His force signature was clearly that of a Jedi, although it was wild, untamed and extremely powerful. It wouldn't be overwhelming at all to a Sith Lord, but it was certainly something to be surprised that came from an ex-Jedi Padawan. The two hooded men roughly went to push Tesar to his knees, but he resisted, the shackles cutting into his wrists and ankles even more than before. One of them took a small stun baton out from the folds of their robes and pressed the metallic rod into the small of Tesar's back, causing him to stiffen up like a board before he slowly sagged to his knees in front of the two leaders.

[member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

Anja turned to Tesar, the Jedi brought before him and addressed her words to [member="Darth Vornskr"] carefully. "Your enemy then? He is being tamed as we speak; soon to be my latest servant." , she glanced down and stared into his eyes momentarily at which point the two figures kept pressure on him. She then turned and looked back to the Sith Lord and placed her offhand along her own chin slightly before placing it back at her side. Her two pale-blue eyes looked emotionless and even to some relentless, many knew the sly nature of Umbarans and whilst Anja wouldn't typically be put out of that stereotype she was a bit more honest than usual, especially when facing a potential ally. "I've showed you what we can offer. An end to your enemy and what may you offer us?", she asked as her head tilted slightly towards the direction of Tesar as if she was glancing at him without setting her eyes in that direction.

The Host Lord was interested in the possibilities and power of these Sith; a people only legendary to her until now. Their affinity for the dark side was quite real if she could tell anything. One wouldn't even need to be force sensitive to understand that, simply the fact he was unphased by The Primeval's techniques said enough.

[member="Tesar Osted"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He stared down the Jedi they brought forth, his limbs bound by heavy shackles and chains, and with one movement they brought him to his knees in subjugation before the Harbinger and the Hound. He radiated with a familiar power, that of the accursed light, but he sensed that this individual was yet knighted by the Order he so foolishly followed. While seeing a padawan possessing this much power was rare in itself, Vornskr had come across so many Jedi like this that he didn't even spare it a second thought. "There is one thing in killing a foe, and then there's the art of bending them to your will. I will tell you now that I have bent so many of my enemies to my will over the years, those that proved too resilient or too useful to destroy, I have made them my slaves. You are taking the first steps in the right direction, I must admit, and it pleases me that you and I have the same sentiment on what to do with these mongrels."

Now he turned his gaze upward to stare absently at the skyline above them, his mind reaching out into the void to claw for something yet unknown to the both of them. When his gaze once again fell on the Harbinger of Nogras, they were filled with a blazing malice that had yet been unseen by any individual present, the power of the darkness flowing, nay coursing like a turbulent river, through the Sith Lord's body. He drank deeply from it's waters as he conjured forth the answer to the Harbinger's question, and with words not wholly his own he spoke with the thrumming voice of authority and power:

"What we will offer you? We will not offer, we will give, and what we will give will ensure all of your enemies turn to ash before you. The Dark Lord rewards those that align with him with treasures beyond comprehension, and with his aid the Primeval will become the greatest power in the Unknown Regions. So long as you agree to aid us in our fight to secure the Core, do this and together none can stand in our way."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="Tesar Osted"]

 

[Boethiah]

A particular pleasure that was a concoction of exhilaration and uncertainty began to build inside Anja as [member="Darth Vornskr"] began to draw a power still mysterious to her. It was in this excitement that her lips opened to breath in every word released to her; as if they weren't made for to be heard but to be savored like a meal. The Umbaran then looked back to the Sephi below before turning to the Sith Lord once more. Her stance had changed completely, like a Kath hound who noticed prey moving in the tall grass. "We will aid you: The Sith. These Sephi who were born in the darkness of this wretched world fear only a quiet life. They will die gladly and as they witness a comrade fall in battle they take two steps forward. There is no wavering, no retreat, no hesitation. They will kill anyone who will bring them one step closer to the death they seek. Your enemies are our enemies,your battles our path, your wars our rites. The blood of the unworthy will be spilt and their worlds will be yours. I see now that the Gods favour you, there is a reason we maintained records of the Sith. I see that now.", her little speech was almost drowned by divine ambition and realization to her that may have possibly been beyond him. The Primeval had no true desire for conquest or treasures other than what was necessary to achieve their true goal: Divine paradise.

Finding the lost gods is all they knew of and all that they deired; except for the Sephi who believe that death in battle is their gateway to the afterlife. The Sith though... They created wild imaginings and brought forth new possibilities. She sensed in his words the same passion that she had burning in her the moment she set eyes upon the galaxy. Her gaze fixed to the Sith Lord. "How may we begin?"

 

[Tesar Osted]

The shackles that bound him rattled violently as he strained his body to lunge forward, only to be held back with ease by the two robed men flanking him. He thrased about violently as he heard the words coming from [member="Darth Vornskr"]. No, the Sith can't be siding with these psychopaths, he thought to himself. During his brief training on Nar Shadda under Ekul Selah, this had been one of the things he had sworn to protect the galaxy from. But here he was, bound tighter than a corset, unable to do anything to stop it. Even if he hadn't been bound and he had some sort of weapon, he knew he would still die. But he would rather die a free Barabel, then live as a broken one. He growled and barred his fangs at the duo, before the man to his left raised his stun baton and bashed him on the back of the head and he went limp. The two hooded men bowed to [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] before they dragged Tesar's limp body back to the Iso chamber.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

((Sorry for not posting for awhile, the recent invasion absorbed me.))

Vornskr was pleased to no end with the Harbinger's words of allegiance, and now regarded her with a more jovial tone akin to how a good compatriot would speak to another. "Your may begin by consolidating your powers here in the Unknown Regions, and spread your influence to those worlds that have not yet been claimed by galactic powers. Spread your power far and wide, and build a mighty army worthy to stand beside the armies of the Sith, and once you have completed that your next task will be exceedingly simple. As you might already know, there is an organization hiding out in the backwaters of the Old Sith Empire that calls itself the Imperial Remnant, and is an direct affront to the Dark Lord and all that the Sith stand for. The Dark Lord, as a test of your strength, has requested that you eradicate these infidels and burn the world of Bastion till it is nothing but ash. A task I believe you will have no problem completing."

He smiled a dark and menacing grin, "If you would allow me, Harbinger. If there is nothing left to discuss, then I would like to return to Coruscant to spread word of our new-found allegiance."

[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]

 

[Boethiah]

The Host Lord heeded his words well and would ponder on them later; allowing his leave would be more than enough. Afterall he came out here willingly and that is a rare occurrence in its own. "Of course.", she smiled in return to his grin giving a nod in respect to all that has been accomplished in their discussions. Diplomacy was a rare treat for The Primeval at large and although Anja hadn't known it, she was already well at war with The Imperial remnant -- her vanguard fleet already destroyed their entire patrol and was engaging with a response fleet sent to investigate. "I shall seek out this enemy of yours.", she turned back to the Sephi to see that they were already marching to their barracks in awaiting the onset of their large-scale invasions. "I wish you a most pleasant trip back to your world.", turning to him for a last time.

The Host Lord walked past him giving off another nod in courtesy as her company formed ranks to allow him a clear passage back to his ship. "Farewell, Voice of the Dark Lord."

[member="Darth Vornskr"]