Private Ghost Pings

[Her]

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Enarc, Enarc system, Alui sector, Mid Rim;
The Anomaly;
Within the realms of The Royal Naboo Republic.
Tag: Serina Calis

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"Polis Massa was a planetoid in a dense asteroid field located in the Subterrel sector of the galaxy's Outer Rim Territories, far from any major hyperspace lanes. At some point, Polis Massa was a planet located within the system of the same name. The planet was home to a subterranean people called the Eellayin until it was destroyed by ancient superweapons."
-- A description of Polis Massa.

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Polis Massa was of interest to The Rule of Two. It had been two months since their encounter on Lianna; yet the echoes of the conspiracy responsible for the economic collapse of The Empire of the Lost continued to persist throughout the galaxy-- a series of incidents, and crisis which looked at by themselves appeared distant, far, unconnected and yet through the subtle powers of the dark-side they were each joint together by two individuals brought together to corrupt, and turn institutions on their heads to serve their machinations in the force.

Her traversed the anomaly constructed on Enarc on a path towards the communications room which lay within. She had pinged Calis-- her asset, and co-conspirator in the Sith Order-- to make the necessary arrangements for them to meet and discuss politics, conspiracy and information that they had gathered since they had aligned themselves together in Northwest. The response had been once for patience. With the dreaded BLACKWALL in effect it would be understandably difficult for Serina to arrange the means for the two of them to meet straight away. It would be impossible for them to connect in the Polis Massa system itself via holocall as the wall would block the communication, and perhaps suicidal given their respective positions among the Sith, Imperial remnants and Naboo. Yet the distance between the planet and the southern-systems where Her currently resided was too far for a mere face-to-face meeting. So, she had waited in the days since she had pinged Calis to move beyond Sith space, so that they could establish a transmission to converse, and plot.

That day was now. As she entered the eerie communications room, Her lowered herself down to sit beside the desk, and began her work. First she obfuscated the transmissions emanating from the tower. The recent Larkspur incident, raised by Ala Quin against The Tarsai Vigil, would encourage monitorization of communications or transmissions coming from the building colloquially referred to by the local populace to Enarc as 'Tarsai HQ'. If someone overheard this conversation then it would be catastrophic to Her and the conspiracy brewing along The Five Veils Route as she contacted a high-ranking dignitary among the Sith elite through the mere interaction itself let alone the contents of the conversation within.

When the transmission was secured from outside monitorization, Her lowered her palm to the holographic projector and transmitted a representation of herself throughout the cosmos to where Serina had established the safe means for communication away from her associates or adversaries within The Sith Order. Lowering her gaze to the side, Her read that the connection had been established. But before she divulged secrets, conspiracy or plot, there was last measure to ensure that her cohort on the other side was who they said they were.

"I traverse a lonely world looking for a friend," Her spoke cryptically into the transmission. "Searching for paradise alone."

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[Serina Calis]

"The ashes of said fires reforged by my will alone."

Tag - Her



A breath.

Faint, sensual, measured. The sound of silk drawn across steel. Then the shadows stirred, and from the dark geometry of the distant chamber—far from Polis Massa, far from the aching throat of the Blackwall—she emerged.

Serina Calis.

Serina's holographic silhouette shimmered into view, a towering sculpture of elegance and threat, robed in light shaped like absence. Her armor—monolithic, sinuous, veined in faint magenta and pulsing crimson—cast no reflection. Her hood was drawn, but strands of golden hair spilled from its shadowed recess like liquid gold under starlight. Her face was partially obscured, a veil of dim blue light giving her the illusion of distance, like a goddess glimpsed through a storm.

And when she spoke, it was with the softness of catastrophe.

"I found a door. Set ajar."

Her eyes glimmered, sharp and cold.

"Behind it, a room. Silent. Watching. Waiting."

One step forward. The motion was smooth, almost serpentine. The projection flickered with her poise, the image a sculpture made of smoke and resolve.

"There was a barrel in the way, of course. There always is."

A faint smirk ghosted across her lips.

"I set it on fire."

She tilted her head slightly, the weight of her voice increasing, rich with amusement and dark pride.

"My companion—the one they called 'friend'—left behind a note as they burned. It said, 'Please do not leave me.'"

Her voice didn't crack. It didn't waver. But there was something deeper in it now. A quiet, consuming triumph. The confession of a woman who had learned to weaponize abandonment.

"I drained them."

She stepped closer to the center of the transmission field, and the light caught the full curvature of her armored form—the precise, engineered symmetry, the elegance meant not to allure, but to intimidate. She looked every inch the sovereign of destruction, a queen not enthroned, but enthroning.

"I crawled through the tunnel. Reached the beach."

"And I walked into the sea."

She smiled again, fuller now, a cruel indulgence given form.

"I opened my eyes beneath the surface and swam deeper."

Another pause. Longer this time. Pregnant with implication.

"So yes…"

Her voice dropped, a low and silken whisper now. The kind that could wrap itself around a man's throat, a nation's doctrine, or the throat of a galaxy.

"I remember paradise. And I remember who I left to find it."

She leaned forward slightly, her gloved hand hovering above the base of the holoprojector—close enough to suggest closeness, though the two conspirators remained systems apart.

"The simulation has ended. The mask fits."

Her eyes gleamed—deadly, aware, alive.

"Now… shall we begin?"

And with those final words, the smile faded.

Leaving only her gaze.

Predatory.

Ready.

 

[Her]

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Enarc, Enarc system, Alui sector, Mid Rim;
The Anomaly;
Within the realms of The Royal Naboo Republic.
Tag: Serina Calis

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Her admired Serina as they both hung there suspended in miniature holographic representation which hovered above the ether in dark quiet places where the seeds of treason and plot could be planted to grow a seditious conspiracy which had been embedded among the superpowers of our galaxy. As her cohort responded to the cryptic message, going through the details of the eXit program as she verified that she was, in fact, Serina Calis, Her shifted her gaze away from the woman to think to herself as she listened quietly to their response and answers.

The simulation had taught the Dark Lord much about her co-conspirator and as she thought about it there was the idea that Serina too knew what had been learned through their participation in the simulation for she possessed a cunning, calculative mind which could possibly see through the esotericism which gave Her so much insight into the woman which floated before her in holographic form. There was only one way that this relationship would reach it's end course: betrayal. It was inevitable. Axiomatic. Did not Serina then realise that Her was the friend described in eXit? That through her queries and answers, Serina had revealed the inevitability of her upcoming betrayal?

In the simulation, Serina had been shown the barrel: the obstacle which prevented her from leaving the room. She had set it on fire exposing a destructive tendency which lingered just beneath the surface, and was only tempered by a cold, calculative, cunning mind which knew when and where to dip into that pool of simmering hatred. When Serina had been shown that there was another in that room-- a friend trapped with her, as the flames closed in around them from her decisions-- she elected to Force Drain them; a cruel way to end the life for someone who held kinship with her when the alternative had been simpler... Easier.

Instead of showing her friend out of the room, so the two could escape, Serina had decided to murder them, and then leave them behind to be destroyed by the fires of decisions. No sympathy for a friend. There was no care, or thought about the other. No... Serina had abandoned them-- discarded them-- and left their body to be consumed, and destroyed by the fires of her own decisions... Her desire to leave the confines of a room which represented the trap-- the seminal ties which kept her tethered, and unable to be free. As she continued through the simulation, towards it's end after freeing herself from the room, Serina had elected to submerge into the waters of an ocean; a metaphor describing her own emotions and feelings about the force-- about the fall.

As Her listened to her co-conspirator, taking stock of the phonetics, the arrogance, the seemingly joyful sound of a woman who took enjoyment from the ideas presented and subsequently navigated through eXit, as she continued her step-by-step path through the simulation, Her knew a certainty in the same manner that she understood her relationship with the likes of The Lord of Hunger . In the pathology of the dark side, where she and others walked the fine line between catastrophe, and ruin, there was no trust in the individual; only in what they could stand to gain. Her felt it through their powers in the force-- their anecdotal experience, as she too traversed the murky, convoluted logic of the dark side-- and the insights gleamed through the esoteric test that was the eXit simulation.

Her knew that the inevitable was to come; the axiomatic decisions that would lead the two of them to the edges of the line where one or the other would fall into catastrophe, or ruin. She also knew why Serina would eventually turn on her. Serina Calis possessed the desire to become one of the most powerful Sith Lords in the entire galaxy. What that would lead too remained unclear at this time. Did she have aims to sit among the ruling class on Jutrand as a member of the Dark Council? Would her goals lead her to rise in rank and statue among the Tsis'Kaar, Eternalists, or Kainite? Or would her co-conspirator have eyes to found a fourth faction elevated in stature, prominence and power among the Sith elite to rival a triumvirate which had ruled the Sith Order since the end of it's occupation of the Tion Hegemony? Or was Polis Massa enough for the likes of Serina?

There were many individuals within the Sith Order who were content to own a mere planet. To hold some sort of title and associated importance which brought with it the joys of diluted power among the Dark Lords of the Sith. In the form of Serina Calis, however, Her did not think she was this type. There was a brilliance in this woman which Her felt through her powers in the force-- an unstoppable force that would carve her way through the upper echelons of the Sith that would draw in the type of rivalry and strife which Darth Ayra taught which later led to the destruction of The One Sith: a faction of Sith Lords, and a predecessor to the modern day Sith Order, who fulfilled the several millennia old promise to own the stars themselves through their campaign which carved up The Old Republic into a Ninth Sith Empire and yet fell apart with thanks to those who were like the woman floating before Her in miniature holographic form.

They were a means to an end, and given Her beliefs in the dark side-- first conceived by Bane, and later revitalized by Ayra, following the end of THE ONE SITH WARS-- the metaphorical knife which represented inevitable, axiomatic betrayal was always lingering at the throats of both women as they held the blades up to the neck with the readiness to slash at a moments notice if it furthered their own agendas. An uncomfortable, long silence held between the pair as Serina finished her recounting of Northwest-- a silence that was too long-- and only when Her gathered their thoughts to bring themselves back to the realms of treason and plot which had brought them together in the first place did she reply to Serina's question.

"Now… shall we begin?"

"The Five Veils trading route has become an interest for us," Her replied to Serina while masking her upset. While the likes of Calis had seemingly eradicated their seminal ties to the Jedi Order, her cohort had not. Somewhere in their heart, Her still felt some attachment to the Order, and to have encountered someone such as Serina, who was a former Jedi, gave rise to confusing feelings which contrasted with the person was today-- a woman who had orchestrated The Sartinaynian Crisis, the destruction of The Empire of the Lost, and who was brewing a conspiracy set to create a paradigm among the Sith Order, the Imperial Remnant, and the Naboo designed to destroy her adversaries across the galaxy who called themselves Sith or Jedi.

There was no room for seminality, or feelings of remorse, and yet they persisted still beneath it all-- buried only by an indomitable will to reshape and organize the Sith paradigm back into a setting which led to the destruction of the Jedi Order just as Darth Ayra had put into motion half-a-century ago through those who followed the reconcescrated Rule of Two.

"The Cortessan Finance Group represents a set of interests that pose a pathway into involving the likes of us into the internal affairs, politics and economics of the Royal Naboo Republic. Subsequently an offer was made to this group to create a subsidiary to bring about their desires to re-establish and then control the Five Veils route with the goal to create a hyperlane which shall rival the Corellian Run. Therefore I have created the Tarsai Vigil to support the interests of Wend Maricon and their conglomerate which operates underneath a vast layer of other subsidiaries controlled by the Cortessan."

Her reached a hand to grasp upon a datastick and insert it into the holographic transmitter before them. It began to stream it's contents through the transmission to Serina's source to deliver information and instructions regarding The Five Veils Conspiracy.

"You will create a banking institution based on Polis Massa which will hold the Vigil's funds in escrow while creating a shell corporation that shall be based on Lianna. The Blackwall, while troubling, offers unique protection from the Shiraya-Jedi and Royal Assembly from intervention and seizing of assets belonging to Tarsai which are to be stored in the Polis Massa system. Simultaneously the founding of a shell corp based on Lianna will implicate Imperial backing of the subsidiary and consequentially it's parent company when scrutiny and division leads to inquiry or investigation into the Cortessan Group which shall obfuscate our involvement."

Her removed the datastick from the transmitter upon completion of the stream, and then broke it apart. After discarding it's remnants, she continued to explain to Serina what she wanted as they wrought the beginning of another series of events among people, superpowers and planets which should have nothing to do with each other, and yet were now being connected by their powers in the dark side.

"Following the capitulation of the Empire and end of the Imperial occupation in the Tion Hegemony, Drey Incorporated closed and ceased it's operations after a heist was performed by The Fifth Wing. I intercepted the transport carrying a waste sum of credits that were set to be transported into the Stygian Caldera-- leftovers of a grant given by Velran Kilran to Drey Inc somewhere in the sum of several billion two years ago after his Empire was put into a trade embargo by the Trade Federation. I have stored these stolen funds in a vault in the Sojourn system, in a venue where The Convocation of Sojourn is set to be hosted later this year. Arrangements will need to be made to bypass the Blackwall so that the credits can be transported to Polis Massa before they are discovered by the Imperials."

"Records on board the transport that was transporting the stolen funds indicated a flight plan to traverse the Ghost's Vein to the Florrum hypergate on a course back to mainland Sith space. This confirms to me that someone in the Tsis'Kaar is pulling the strings of The Fifth Wing long after the death of The Director. I have just transmitted a list of names pertaining to infiltrators sent into the Empire by the Tsis'Kaar two years ago. They need to be all gone by the end of this month. Speaking of which..."

As she reached an impasse in the sharing of details pertaining to conspiracies and instructions that would shape them to fit their shared, mutual interests, Her contemplated what to share next. Would she divulge to Serina that the N&Z were now involved? Or would it best to compartmentalize the information from her, so that in the event of betrayal, the damage would be limited to their involvement? Pouting thoughtfully, Her said:

"...There was a summit on Zakuul between the Imperial remnant. A new confederation consisting of expats from the Empire of the Lost, who now refer to themselves as the Imperial Sector Authority, and the Dark-Imperial bloc on Carlac are forming together with a new remnant who call themselves the Risen Empire. Karl von Strauss is set to become The Exarch and in charge of oversight of civilian affairs that will be governed by Parliament while the military will be overseen by Grand Admiral, Marlon Sularen and the new Grand Moff-- a man called Selrik Lorcas."

"The fallout of the Empire of the Lost was of interest to the confederation, and an operative from The Fifth Wing was subsequently court martialled for their involvement in the conspiracy. All evidence and signs gathered by a tribunal hosted in the Dac system implicate Sith involvement in the events which led to end of the Imperial occupation. Something akin to The New Imperial Order is beginning to stir among my associates as a result now that they know that it was Sith strings which led to the demise of the Empire of the Lost, as was intended..."

Her fell silent. It was Serina's turn to play rat.

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[Serina Calis]

"The ashes of said fires reforged by my will alone."

Tag - Her



The hologram of Serina Calis did not immediately respond. It stood there—upright, poised, sovereign—as Her unraveled the newest weave in their tapestry of sedition. No breath. No fidgeting. No theatrical flares of emotion.

Just listening.

Like a blade listens before it is drawn.

The light of the projection caught the angular edges of her armor, casting stark shadows across her neckline and jaw. Her expression, half-veiled beneath her hood, betrayed no overt reaction. But within those pale, calculating eyes—deep as frost and twice as sharp—the cogs of a master engine turned.

Only once Her finished—leaving the air pregnant with expectation and danger—did Serina finally allow herself motion.

Her voice, when it came, was low and smooth. Not mocking. Not openly critical.

But it carried the weight of precision, of the disappointment that one reserves not for inferiors, but for assets expected to perform better.

"You were followed."

A statement, not an accusation.

Her tone remained gentle—frighteningly so.

"The Larkspur incident will not simply be 'monitored.' Ala Quin is not a schoolgirl with a datapad; her whispers have weight. That tower in Enarc now glows with scrutiny. And your transmission came from within it."

A pause.

Then—

"That was sloppy."

The words fell like petals of poison.

"Understand, I say this not in cruelty, but in care. You're playing too many strings at once, and you are beginning to sound like a noise instead of a song. It is beautiful in its chaos—but chaos, while fashionable, is rarely durable."

She moved forward now, closing the space between her image and Her's with a single, elegant step.

"Now…"

The word was breathed more than spoken.

"…you ask me to build an escrow system on Polis Massa. Establish a banking institution. Draft a shell on Lianna to implicate the Imperials, and channel black funds from the collapse of the Empire of the Lost. Intricate, yes. Clever? Perhaps."

A smile touched her lips—but it was not kind.

"But it's too many signatures. Too many openings. Your plan requires three fronts, two laundering networks, and the continual maintenance of a shell corp under multiple watchful eyes. All while Ala Quin and her Jedi begin sniffing like bloodhounds downwind of your little Vigil."

She let the silence linger just long enough to sting. Then offered a balm.

"So. Allow me to offer an alternative."

She turned slightly, gloved hands clasping before her with courtly grace.

"There is already a financial institution in place that operates in complete opacity. One untouched by Jedi oversight, and utterly exempt from Naboo scrutiny: VesperWorks ."

"Its front is military. Its shell is shipbuilding. But the heart? The engine? It is a stealth logistics firm that specializes in resource integration and clandestine operations."

She smiled again—cool, smug, triumphant.

"It has been laundering kyberite and phrik derivatives through ghost-world auctions in the Expansion Region for over a year. And it already registered on Polis Massa. The infrastructure exists. The corridors are cut. The regulators are bribed."

Her gaze sharpened like a dagger.

"Why build a new door when I already own the keys to a better one?"

She let the weight of her words settle before continuing, the edge of her voice sharpening just slightly—still respectful, still laced with elegance, but colder now. Hungrier.

"I will not risk a public-facing bank that ties us to the Liannan ruins. That name is still under scrutiny. You speak of obfuscation, but in your attempt to cloak the Fifth Wing's funding in three separate veils, you've made them traceable. There are too many moving parts. And the more parts you place in a machine, the more obvious it becomes when it moves."

Another pause. Now her voice dipped into something more decadent—throaty, low, laced with implication.

"You have ambition. That is obvious. You speak like a woman who has seen the galaxy's bones, and seeks to replace them with her own. I admire that. I find it... intoxicating, even. But be careful, darling."

A fingertip traced the air between them.

"You surround yourself with flames, yet you forget—I am fire. And I burn differently than you expect."

The temperature of her voice cooled again—graceful, intelligent, terrifyingly controlled.

"Use VesperWorks. Divert the credits through its dormant accounts on Polis Massa and reroute them through the Corsair Network, a smuggling route run through Shantipole and Eadu. It bypasses the Blackwall by riding the backscatter of sensor echoes. The Sojourn vault can be cracked remotely. I have a slicer already placed in the Mon Cala Exchange who will reroute the transaction under the guise of emergency disaster relief funds. The credits will arrive... unmarked, untouched, and clean."

She turned slightly, as if shifting focus without losing any control of the conversation.

"Of course, at the end the cycle, it is your choice, dear..."

A faint chuckle.

"As for the infiltrators…"

"You'll find them already dead. Or dying. The list you sent included three assets I already rolled up two weeks ago. One was bleeding secrets to an Imperial contact on Shiffrin. I removed her tongue and used it to feed her handler, another is to be mentally broken by one of my agents in a training exercise."

"And I do so enjoy watching their transition from sorrow and anger to ecstasy, when their minds are, let us say..."

"Corrected."

She looked back at Her. For a moment, it was unclear whether she was joking.

It didn't matter.

"The rest will be dealt with before the cycle ends. Quietly. I'll have the names replaced with new candidates by the time you wake."

She fell silent for a moment. Calculating. Observing. Then, like a symphony conductor moving into the second movement, her tone shifted once again—fluid, rich with layered tone, respectful but in that way a superior speaks to someone useful.

"As for the Zakuul summit…"

A smile ghosted across her lips again—this time, indulgent.

"Let them build their little confederation. Let them fashion their Parliaments, their Grand Moffs, their puppet Exarchs. I give it three years before Marlon Sularen stages a coup. Two if they let Selrik Lorcas near the navy and six months if they let the mongrel dogs who pretend not to be Sith have any influence over operations in that new Confederation, do note that there is a reason why they are no longer within the borders of the Sith Empire."

She stepped back now, a dancer at the end of her first act.

"We are not here to govern. We are here to infect. Let them consolidate. Let them chase the dream of order."

Her voice dropped into a whisper, almost affectionate.

"And when their backs are turned—we poison their spine."

The transmission held for a moment longer, and then she tilted her head ever so slightly.

"Now then. Shall we continue this... lovely conspiracy of ours?"

Her smile was sweet.

But it promised ruin.

 

[Her]

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Enarc, Enarc system, Alui sector, Mid Rim;
The Anomaly;
Within the realms of The Royal Naboo Republic.
Tag: Serina Calis

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Her listened quietly as Serina dismantled the ideas presented and repurposed them into ways that benefited herself discreetly in a manner only someone like her could. The Corruptor was, indeed, as cunning as the Dark Lord was led to believe before she had made arrangements for their contact in Northwest that would be of great consequence later on to the galactic powers who reigned from the capitals of Jutrand, Bastion, New Alderaan and Naboo. But did Serina really think that the likes of Her could not see through the charade of helpful misdirection designed to obfuscate her intentions to acquire leverage in the conspiracy they were brewing together?

By rerouting the stolen funds taken by The Fifth Wing through the Corsair Network into the accounts held by VesperWorks on Polis Massa, Serina would be in control of the funds from that moment onwards. She would also be able to see everything from the transactions made between Tarsai and N&Z Corporation for the manufacture and supply of products made by the latter for use in the enforcement and also the administration over tariffs, tolls and inspections made along the Five Veils Route on behalf of the Cortessan Finance Group.

It was the kind of access to information that could be later used against her co-conspirator when the time was right, as through VesperWorks and the data it would have access too, Serina could leverage exposure of information or the denial of funds used in the venture that had been founded on Enarc earlier this year. But wasn't manipulation the practise of making the other believe that your ideas were theirs? Wasn't the point of creating a money trail from the Vigil to a Sith occupied world the point of this conversation?

Two years ago the armadas of the Eternalist and Kainite factions which comprised the triumvirate of powerbases whom ruled the modern day Sith Order were tricked into attacking the Empire of the Lost through the subterfuge of THE DIRECTOR during a war cabinet meeting hosted on board the Mors Mon in 900 ABY. The subsequent Siege of Tion had put the Lost-Imperials into a state of economic, social and military decline that was later capitalized by a rebellion group on Zygerria who would later go onto begin the Tingel Arm Coalition that was responsible for the death of Velran Kilran a year later. But not before thousands of Sith acolytes, warriors and lords were put through the meatgrinder that had been Tion; an attack that, to this day, was maintained officially as a retaliatory response that was enacted due to the annexation of Felucia by Imperial forces in that same year.

Woven into the tapestry of Bane, Her thought to herself that he would have nodded in approval to that work as her adversaries were deceived by her powers in the dark side. Without raising her Lightsaber blade or joining into the fray of battle, Her powers in the dark side had cost the lives of many Sith on that dark day and all it had cost her personally was the life of Alicia Drey . Would the same fate befall Serina Calis when the machinations of her work fell into scrutiny and ruin in the realms of the Naboo?

The Royal Naboo Republic (comprised of Shiraya-Jedi and survivors of The Rimward Trade League) found itself on the borders of Sith mainland space while expats from the fallen Empire of the Lost went onto survive the fall of the Imperial Occupation of the Tion Hegemony to create a new one in the form of The Imperial Confederation in the Outer Rim Territories. As the signs of Sith subterfuge led to the catastrophic Sartinaynian Crisis at Bastion so too would they lead these galactic powers found in the Southern and Outer Rim systems against their natural adversaries from Jutrand or Dromund Kaas as heroes and villains in the Republic or Confederation were primed to retaliate against the Dark Lords deemed responsible for the economic collapse of the Empire of the Lost; the annexation of The Rimward Trade League; and aggression against their sovereignty through the underhanded tactics that were primed to be viewed as acts of war against their respective states.

Calis, who recognised the obvious flaws in her co-conspirator and dismissed them to suit her own agendas, had simultaneously overlooked the intended purpose of allowing the likes of Ala Quin or Karl Von Strauss to gleam pieces of insight into the conspiracies that had taken root within Naboo and Imperial space that were designed to spark the next Star War between them and their adversaries in the Sith. A mighty conflict that would be far more grander in scale and war in comparison to the campaigns in the Core Worlds and Outer Rim Territories that had seen the Imperial remnants contest territory with Jedi heroes in The Galactic Alliance; rebellious curs from the defeated Tingel Arm Coalition or The Foundation; and the Lords of the Diarchy who had seized the Braxant Run at the turn of the ninth-century that was later contested by the Dark-Imperial bloc formed by remnants of The New Imperial Order on Carlac.

As Her contemplated the designs of her own machinations with the information divulged by Serina she wondered if this woman-- a Sith Lord aligned to The Sith Triumvirate ruled by the Corpse Emperor, a former Jedi just like her-- could be brought fully into the convoluted conspiracy to frame the galactic powers into acts of war to spark the next Star War? Could this clever, cunning woman be turned by an apprenticeship to succeed the likes of Maldor Mecetti who could not be turned into a disciple of The Rule of Two? Like Maldor, was Serina too far gone into her own pathology into the Dark side of the Force that the truth of Darth Bane could not reach her? Was she too consumed by the diluted powers shared by the Sith Order to be shown the true ways of the dark side?

No... Serina could not be turned for similar reasons as for why Mecetti had denied the very philosophy consecrated by Darth Ayra half-a-century ago. Therefore she was not a candidate. Serina was too old, too cunning, too sceptical to be a true believer worthy of carrying forth the paradigms which had founded on Kalist VI. This was why Her could not fully explain her ideas, and as she pondered, it would be useful for Serina to believe they were smarter than her. She could force the agenda and see where it would take them but at the end of this did it matter that the stolen credits held on Sojourn would be in the control of VesperWorks once the process was complete? Or that the likes of Ala Quin , who flirted on the lines of ruin with her inquiries into The Tarsai Vigil, was close to discovering their connection through the anomaly constructed on Enarc?

Did it matter that there were members of The Fifth Wing caught selling information? Wasn't the point of the number cipher leaked from the cryptology found within The Direct Surveillance of Domestic Threats done in accordance to the design to expose that it was Sith corruption that was responsible for the attack on Bastion and the subsequent economic collapse of the Empire of the Lost?

All in an effort to turn them all against The Sith?

"Now then. Shall we continue this... lovely conspiracy of ours?"

"We will use Vesper then," Her said quietly as she feigned the masquerade of a woman made to look silly in front of a superior mind. "As for Ala Quin and the Order of Shiraya I am unconcerned. The Royal Assembly gathered to hear her pleas and the response was mixed to say the least. There is already the means to kill the investigation into the Larkspur incident that I have not used because it advantageous to leverage Shiraya interference into the Five Veils initiative and the legitimate operations of Tarsai. I know what to do."

Her looked up to Serina as she towered before her. Although miniature in size in comparison to the holographic transmitter which played her image, Her felt the reverence of a woman who carried herself with purpose and strength. Supremely confident bordering on the lines of arrogance; an ego untampered and yet to feel the wrath of the many adversaries she courted through her machinations in Sith space. Her felt the desire to quip back at Serina so as to put her in her place and remind her that recent events invited the likes of the Dark Council to turn their attention onto her following the recent demise of her predecessor who governed Polis Massa for many years until Calis usurped him for his place in the Sith Empire.

Instead the momentary desire passed in favour of something else that was far more useful. "The Fifth Wing have served their purpose. As you have reminded me, my friend, I am spent and overextended. Before the new Confederation learn more about our plot I would have the organisation destroyed by you before the months end. New branches unaffiliated to the Tsis'Kaar are more useful to us now than keeping the remaining Sith expats and treasonous Imperials alive. Malum saw to the first purge and now you should finish what he started."

"This Second Purge of The Fifth Wing should coincide with the simultaneous destruction of the thirty outposts where the DSDT program still persists. I have moved the archives of the program to a safe location that I am unwilling to share at this time. But if the information recorded during the two year Imperial occupation becomes of use, then we have the means to use it later on." Her averted her gaze to check the time and realised they had been connected for over three minutes. They were already reaching the impasse of their exchange. Much had been communicated, both purposefully and subtly in this meeting, and yet all things came to an end.

"As you have said we are susceptible to being traced. What more needs to be said?"

Severing the connection before Serina could reply, Her stared off into space and found herself thinking about Ala Quin bothered by what she would have to do in order to prevent that Shiraya-Jedi from interfering too much in her affairs. She found herself back in the halls of the Royal Assembly thinking about the impassioned speech that Quin had made about The Larkspur Incident and how she reminded Her about £$^$ £$%£.

My mind is a sunless space. . .

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[Serina Calis]

"The ashes of said fires reforged by my will alone."

Tag - Her



Serina Calis stood still for some time after the transmission had ended.

No parting words. No dramatic flourish. Just silence, thick and humming with the weight of unfinished war. The hologram of Her had flickered into nonexistence, leaving behind only the faint static shimmer of a signal recently severed. The darkness pressed inward like a velvet shroud, the stillness absolute.

But Serina did not move because she did not need to.

She had already won.

Not in the way Her might think—in victories measured by compliance, by posturing, or by the satisfaction of a scheme seemingly accepted. No, this was not a win of agreement. It was the win of possession. Of a woman already halfway devoured by the very mouth she believed herself commanding.

Her had cut the line, thinking it would end the dialogue. But Serina knew better.

It only ends when she says it ends.

The first movement came at last: a slow, graceful shift of her head as she turned her gaze away from the still-sparking holocommunicator and toward the long, sloping viewport that overlooked the darkened surface of Polis Massa.

A graveyard of old empires. The perfect staging ground for the next.

And the perfect crucible to burn the Republic.

She walked to the window, hands folding behind her back in a stately clasp, and gazed out into the hollow desolation of the world that now bore her name. Polis Massa. No longer the tomb of voices past, but the womb of future ruin.

Her lips parted, and she exhaled softly through her nose—half sigh, half indulgent laughter.

"You poor, clever creature…"

She spoke into the silence, into the fabric of the Force itself. Into the subtle current that still lingered between them, because Her had not ended anything. She had merely walked away before the final card was played.

Serina turned slightly and began to speak, not aloud, but in the language of planning, in the unspoken lexicon of power. A mental articulation of intent—sharp, clean, and ready to be made real.

First, the credits.

Let Her believe that VesperWorks now served her purpose. Let her assume that she controlled the flow of money and intelligence through the Corsair smuggling web. But what Her didn't understand was that the laundering system she'd just agreed to use had been purpose-built to do more than conceal.

It distilled.

Every transaction through VesperWorks didn't just move currency—it restructured it, anonymized it, bound it to secondary protocols buried in shell subsidiaries that no Sith auditor could trace. Serina didn't just have control of the accounts—she owned the ghost of every credit moved through her system. And now Her had gifted her several billion more.

That money would fund something much more delicate than espionage.

It would fund catastrophe.

Second, the trap.

The key to war is not simply moving your enemy into position. It is letting them believe they moved themselves. Her's arrogant confession about Ala Quin , her brazen invitation to suspicion—it was not just a mistake. It was permission. A green light to accelerate what Serina had already begun laying in motion.

She had no intention of silencing the Jedi.

No—she would amplify her.

Let Ala Quin scream of corruption, scream of Sith interference, scream of the black site on Enarc, the laundering, the dark alliances behind the Tarsai Vigil. Let her pour her soul into exposing it. Because now, thanks to Her's own confirmation, Serina had evidence—real, damning, fatal evidence—that the Sith had infiltrated a Naboo-adjacent economic network and used it to provoke a breakdown in neutral systems.

All Serina needed to do was leak that proof in the right place. Not publicly, no. That would be too loud. No—quietly. Through couriers to Jedi. Through a whisper campaign on Nar Shaddaa to reach sympathetic ears. Through a handful of doctored comm-logs conveniently acquired.

A pattern would emerge.

A pattern too elegant to be dismissed as fabrication.

And then the Royal Assembly would have no choice.

They would rise.

Not because they were forced, but because they would believe it was the only way to protect themselves.

A war would begin—not as a Sith offensive, but as a defensive measure by the Royal Naboo Republic against Sith overreach.

They would strike first.

And that was the greatest sin Serina could craft: to make the Jedi believe they were the aggressors.

Third, the purpose.

Why?

Why all of this? Why burn the peace, scorch the alliances, send noble fools to die in spirals of war?

Because war is productive.

Because Jedi, when frightened, reveal their worst selves.

Because Sith, when challenged, become truthful.

Because an Empire, wounded by war, becomes ripe for infection.

Serina didn't need to destroy the Sith Order. She didn't even need to fracture the Republic. All she needed was the right level of chaos. The kind that loosens loyalties. The kind that demands new alliances. The kind that makes people ask dangerous questions.

And once the flames began to spread—once Naboo's fleets engaged Sith assets in the Mid Rim—the Dark Council would have to respond. The Kainites, Eternalists, Tsis'Kaar—they would turn inward. Accusations. Blame. Subtle posturing for war powers and emergency jurisdictions.

Serina would offer them unity. She would offer them vision.

And they would crawl to her, not as conquerors—but as supplicants.

Because only she would know the truth of how the war began.

She turned from the window at last, her reflection glimmering in the glass.

Not a Sith.

Not a Jedi.

Something else.

The center of a spiral that would consume them all.

Then she lifted a finger and summoned a holocomm of her own. The blue light of a secure Sith network rippled across her face. A name scrolled on the screen.

Ala Quin.

She did not send a message.

She simply opened a channel and let it listen.

Then she spoke, just loud enough for the network to catch.

"The Vigil must fall."