Success or Death.

Ex Umbra
Rattatak had not been her home for decades, yet there were times when the arrid world called her back into its wind-carved embrace. The cruelty of its inhabitants and the constantly shifting political climate made revolution the only constant. Being back with her feet on the cold, red, rock, walking under the cruel sun, reminded her of how the galaxy too changed.
Yet
Much like Rattatak there was a constant in the chaos: War and cruelty were mere tools in its ascension. The one true constant was peace is a lie, there is only passion.
This time, as part of her visit, Darth Ophidia had found whiff of one of the latest warlords: A young woman who fought her way from the slave pits and into a seat of power. An alliance of warlords was colluding against her, seeking to split the land between them, and the word had spread to her contacts. Normally, she would not bat an eye at such trivialities, but a rumour had caught her attention.
This one had something special about her.
She had moved through the underworld and found herself in a recuperating warzone, one preparing for conflict, for change, and the rise of a new warlord. Ophidia had seen this before, and almost every outcome that could spur it. Once upon a time, she had been like the children subtly changing the colours of the higher dwellings to signal the new ascension.
Once upon a time, she had dreamt that they would hang her colours from the balconies and form up behind her as she united the twelve under one banner. However, such callings were far below her now. There were greater things to achieve in the name of the Sith, and this perpetual warzone had become her scouting ground for new talent rather than the queendom she rule.
The queen of shadows came, saw, and...
[member="Ivory"]