Private Godhunter

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Thread Theme Song


Oh how times had changed since last one Srina Talon set foot in the halls of his palace. Once upon a time she had been here among the fanfare of a gala, a party fit for empires, and though the halls were more muted, more silent, there was no less an undercurrent of passion and energy amid the hurried motions and workings of the servants present. As opposed to the visit of his previous.... interesting company.... now the servants of his palace set about more than just maintenance. Now finery had been removed, everything from tables to portraits, chairs and chandeliers, vacated from the halls of this place to make room for future projects. Though, perhaps, it was more apt to say "project" in the singular in this instance. As before the storm pervading Corbos's surface opened at his will, allowing whatever vessel bore Lady Talon to land safely and undisturbed by his forces. As ever the silent praetorians in The Shaper's command stood silently vigil over Corbos's blasted, storm-shrouded surface, though unlike his last.... visitors... Lady Talon did not provoke a gaze from the mute troopers on guard. Though a greater threat than those previous visitors she was far less likely to act on that status and Lady Talon would find herself cordially escorted to The Shaper's presence.

Standing not in his throne room, upon some raised dais, The Shaper stood in the midst of what was once the ballroom where they had first met. Servants and acolytes skirting the edges of the room, both supplying and shaping metal and material, altering the walls and building something likely only The Shaper knew the true final form to be. From the Master of Corbos a low, murmuring network of commands would hiss through the Force, instructing and directing each servants and acolyte, both within and without this room, like instruments in a perfectly directed orchestra. It would be a simple thing should Srina wish to connect herself to this network, to overhear the instruction as it were, though even should she choose not to do so The Shaper kept her waiting but a moment. A final syllable of command leaving his form before he turned, the other beings in the room pausing as if they were nothing but marionettes with cut strings, before their eyes alighted upon the meeting and they shuffled out of the room.

With the two masters of the dark left in privacy, among the in-process work of a ritual-to-be, The Shaper's eyes met hers, once-Exarch to once-Emperor, and he did not flinch from the distance there. Instead his voice echoed through the Force, not by his lips, in a low, polite tone.

"Lady Talon, a pleasure, one I hope is mutual. While I am sure you have your reasons for visiting I am sure it is for more than to survey my work."

The Shaper's echoing, ethereal tone was silent now, he did not venture a guess for the woman's presence. She would either supply it herself or wish to keep it hidden, but either choice on her part made the meeting different kinds of interesting. Meanwhile The Shaper could sense subtle differences to her, if not in character than in those presences that lingered about her. Ties and bonds in the force, gone, faded, severed and everything in between, hawkish hangers-on eradicated in the tumult of passing time, allegiances shifting and the Force itself twisting a nexus with her every step. Threads of destiny and fate pulling taut. Likewise The Shaper himself exuded an aura that had changed. He had grown more powerful through whatever trials had swept him from galactic history for a time, and a flowing font of darkness invigorated any who wished to sup from it in his presence. Corbos itself seemed laced with his darkness, utterly and perhaps eternally, and here on this planet that connection bolstered him immensely. Though, quietest of all details of his change, is the slow, almost patient breathes he levied, that smoldering passion of brilliance still evident in his eyes but there was something.... more. Like a tributary or other wellspring his passion was feeding even now, quenching that roaring inferno to a low, smoldering flame mimicking patience as he awaited her response.

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Arctus Silmar
______________________________________________________​

She didn't mind the small wait.

It allotted a place for her thoughts to collect without any real expectation of a response. The guards that escorted her were, but, didn't have the capacity for her brand of social ineptitude. The way golden eyes bore through them was unsettling, to say the least. She was too perceptive by half and it made for occasionally poor conversations. She didn't lie—So others often learned things about themselves they weren't ready to when they least expected it. Painfully lovely features were schooled into something that could be mistaken for artwork.

Ethereal—But inert.

It was strange to see a living statue move.

Observant orbs took in the familiar locale and her pupils dilated, adjusting, while The Shaper worked his will. She could feel what he was doing. Imposing his will on those around him to keep everything in perfect time without an ounce of free will to cause any discourse. He would see her eyes following the lines of something invisible, his dark aria, and in turn…Was quite slow to respond. She could recognize what he was doing, Simply, not what it was for.

Curious.

Srina had always been the inquisitive kind. Her eyes had always been on the stars—with her moon mother always ready to remind her what she ought to be doing. It was her flaw. Curiosity. The voice that she felt rather than saw left a pleasant sensation in her bones. The Dark Side was a familiar friend. When everything else fell away, when everything crumbled, it had always been the comfort of shadow that cradled her. Lifted her. Brought her, Maliphant. "The Sepulchral of the Sith Order asked me to."

The status of the Sith Order was always fluid due to the conflicting nature of their people…But it was no secret that Arctus Silmar had entertained other visitors as well. The Emperor had been content to leave him to his designs until that moment. Srina…Srina was simply the one that didn't mind going. It was no chore, nor, did she expect an unpleasant experience. The Shaper had been easily cordial enough at his gala…So long ago. "I thought…"

"That you may not mind."

If the simpering fools who thought her an errand girl thought she cared to play their political games they were very, very wrong. Things had changed. He was stronger. Or at the very least he felt stronger. Srina kept her Force Signature pressed so low that one had to be searching specifically for it to even realize she was present at all. The carefully crafted clothing that she was wore befitting more than a little bird. It was made onyx fabric, so fine, that it seemed to catch starlight when she moved. Long white hair had been pulled up into a high ponytail with braids woven in with intricate knots.

Heeled shoes clicked on the floor while she took the liberty to spin slowly, viewing, what she could without seeing anything at all. Primrose lips eventually formed a small frown while elegant eyes finally fell on her host for more than a moment. It reminded her of walking through the Sith Academy…Watching them spin up magnificent feats from nothing at all.

"I am interrupting?"

Srina had thought the Shaper had been made aware of her arrival. The small cadre of guards that had been assigned to her knew better than to treat their charge as infantile. They remained on one of her fastest support craft, rather, than chasing her heels like lost children. If Srina had need of them?

She would call. But in most instances…If that happened?

It was already too late.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Her reason was plain enough, though nothing else about her was, and as The Shaper drank in her presence in the Force he found Srina Talon had become quite twisted, quite the enigma and contradiction, from what he recalled of her. The Shaper allowed her her soft words, her ventured guesses of his mindset, and bade no verbal reply. Not yet. It was not until Lady Talon twirled about, taking in the now bare ballroom, and almost meekly seemed to concern herself with offense, that when her eyes returned to him she could plainly see his eyes gazing off into space above and beyond her head. That primrose frown, that bearing of a porcelain bird, sculpted so elegantly yet so gently, lost to his occupied attention. His presence in the Force flaring and wavering from his form, stretching out to Corbos and then.... beyond.

It was not until Lady Talon asked if she was interrupting that his presence focused enough to cause his eyes to lower to her, his voice level and firm, but not harsh or reprimanding as he stated.

"I do not brook interruptions."

To ones more sensitive to social niceties it may have seemed an insult or a reproaching statement directed at her, but in truth it was simply a fact stated from one who did all within their power to ensure every circumstance and motion was perfect in their actions. That statement would hang in the air a moment longer before he inhaled, slowly, through his nose and exhaled from behind pearl-hued teeth. It was, all at once, a simple "no" as well as dismissing the possibility of her being an interruption in the first place and he used the moments following it to focus his presence back to the woman before him, contradictory in one of so much power yet making herself so small, and in her presence he regarded familiar wounds. Wounds so familiar, so intimate even, to himself that he hardly needed a moment to regard her before he simply stated.

"All things change, Lady Talon, usurped and supplanted by the march of time and the passion of countless lives...."

If there was one being who could accurately surmise how time rent and tore at the concept of permanence... it was The Shaper. He was especially aware of this due to his own obsession with crafting artifacts to last the ages but, still, whenever he allowed his passions to dim and think of all he had lost, all he had left behind in a different time, it made even the darkness feel hollow in those brief, empty nights.

"... the Sith... the Jedi... You.... Me.... what you see before you is simply a step in embracing that reality."

One change The Shaper had noted about Srina's countenance, her demure demeanor, her presence in the Force, was something he had felt starkly when in the presence of both individuals. A connection, now silent, a yawning space wherein the presence of another once filled, a bond of closeness and familiarity that he was also too familiar with. Cocking his head slowly to one side, his expression neutral and as statuesque as the woman before him, he would simply ask.

"Is the change you are subjected to one you can bear alone, or does your Maliphant play more roles yet to be seen?"

In truth The Shaper equally expected not to receive an answer at all, and so he added in a more quiet tone. Barely a murmur in the Force.

"Would I sound a fool for venturing that you should cherish him, for whatever part he plays, so long as they serve your passions? Every flame sputters and dies, and their offered warmth is a commodity few can live without."

Once upon a time The Shaper would have needed to stoop and place a hand upon the stone beneath them to effect what came next, but now the stone rose, altered and shaped by his will, smoothing and flowing in unnatural ways to become a pair of polished and finely carved chairs facing one another. The seat of the chairs utterly subsumed by his will, the atoms and physical matter pliant to his whims, and should Srina wish to seat herself she would feel the puzzling reality of stone that was all at once solid, fluid, firm and soft. The atoms comprising the seat being held in a tenuous cycle of change and fluctuation to afford the two comfort as The Shaper sat.

"Tell me, Lady Talon, what it is you wish to gain from returning here from my presence, and we shall see if it something that can be discussed."

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Arctus Silmar
______________________________________________________​

Srina didn't need to raise her voice.

Not anymore. When she spoke—No matter how softly, all within earshot, paused to listen. She didn't need to let her presence fill the Force with her full might in a display of power so that their enemies might think twice. Empyrean was beyond anything she had ever known. The Sith were always looking to topple each other and even with the need to deceive and betray built into their conditioning…They hesitated with the Corpse King on the throne. They hesitated, moreover, because she stood beside him. Because against all odds…She worked in harmony with Carnifex.

It was telling that one of the most functional relationships the Sith had ever witnessed at the top was between a corpse, his bride, and his enemy.

The shimmering Echani took the words of the Shaper for what they were. He did not brook interruptions, yet, he accepted her presence. This meant that she wouldn't have been counted among them. "Noted.", was her chilling, ghostly reply. Still. Her eyes danced over the threads he pulled in the Force. Following what she couldn't see, but feel, as if she had drawn it herself…In another time. Another place. Mercurial orbs finally settled back on her host when he began to speak once more.

This time…It was personal.

"…I know."

The breathy response was filled with more than words. More than acknowledgment. It was decades of fighting, winning, losing, and everything else in between. It was walking away from Eshan for however long it took to secure the safety of those she required. It was fighting alongside a Master who had retired into the Shiraya Expanse. He was always with her, ever, a guiding hand…But this was a path she was required to walk alone. Without his protective shadow.

It was the rise of a nation. The fall of many. The birth of future potential—And it's death. It was the passing of the life she had hoped for. It was dreams, crushed underfoot, and ground into a powder so fine that it sparkled. It was trial by fire. It was rebirth...Only to repeat the same hell. Over and over into eternity. The wheel would never stop turning.

So…She could never stop fighting.

There would never be a time when she would lay her head down and rest. There was no room for that softness. No room for that weakness. The Sith Order required her to stand taller than she ever had. Her husband required her resilience—And everyone else? The little conqueror who never knew when enough was enough. Who refused to be defeated, even, when her castles burned and the stars aligned against her in every conceivable way.

It was interesting that the Shaper referred to the Emperor by his name from before. Srina relived the ritual on Odavessa nightly. Her failures. She should have been able to protect Maliphant from the Jedi, from the Worm, and ever from himself if need be. She hadn't been strong enough. That was the tipping point…The change. The moment she began to seek power versus letting it come to her when the universe felt it just. Srina would never let circumstance steal from her again.

All things lived. All things died. That didn't mean she had to stand by and idly watch.

" Darth Empyrean is always with me.", the svelte woman spoke plainly. It wasn't a threat. It wasn't a guess. It was a statement of fact. He was her shadow as much as she was his. The wedding ring she still wore on her left hand was a firm symbol of that. "But…I will bear what I must. That is the way."

The Echani way. To never fall. Never crumble, bend, or break under any circumstances. She was a warrior behind every yard of fine silk. Every bit as brutal as a common thug or mercenary. As inventive as the lowest thief and mighty as the strongest Sith. She just looked better doing it. There was something endlessly captivating when alabaster skin was stained with so much rose red…When she dropped from the sky like a falling star and those below could only brace for impact.

"You would only be a fool, Lord Silmar, to suggest that I do not."

Srina had gone through extraordinary lengths to keep her vows for Empyrean no matter his current state. There was a certain pain associated with not being able to see the man she loved as she once had. Echani spoke primarily through body language. It was…Difficult to read the walking dead. Even more difficult that his eyes had been taken by the Enclave. With iron eyes and a decaying form…They could only ever be so close. And yet—That distance was nothing.

The Shaper offered her a seat and the endlessly graceful woman seemed to slip into it the same way liquid might pour from a glistening vase. Her hands settled in her lap as her shoulders rolled slowly to find comfort in the strange arrangement. The question that followed caused golden eyes to raise toward the Shaper with a certain measure of birdlike curiosity. "Must there be something?"

Just because the Sepulchral wished her to do something specific didn't mean she would abide their wishes. She was their largest disappointment. A wayward Empress with a mind of her own.

"If it pleases, we can devolve into political goblins that speak in tongues…I leave that to your discretion."

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

As ever Srina Talon was a glass of cold water inside a crystal cup that ever shifted to avoid being drank, with a marble demeanor, difficult to scrutinize expressions, and yet so painfully obvious contents, it made him contemplate her words in their totality before he gave rise to a table between them, it's surface that of flowing stone and uncertain matter as he watched her above it's surface. His first response did not address that which he had stated only for posterity and to highlight his efforts in the current day, so instead he simply worked with what little he knew of the woman from oh so long ago. At times logical consistency could seem, to some, like prescience. Thus when he gave voice to his thoughts they were soft, but meaningful.

"Darth Empyrean is with you, yes, though your Maliphant is within you."

Of course he had his own version of what his assertion meant, but he chose to not elaborate further, and make what she will of the words presented to her. Even to he, working through sources and contacts left within the Sith during his galactic absence, knew of Maliphant's current form in vague details. A living corpse god, or so they said, all but as much a fixture as his throne and this... even The Shaper could not see as being desirable to Srina. Not for a woman who, in his sole meeting and what his reports had told him during her time as Exarch, was a women flush in the midst of many caring individuals. Force Bonds, friendship.... family. No, much as it was her nature to conceal and hide he had felt she and Metus in close proximity, the man interjecting to dance with him so as to spare her his attention, and knew it impossible for Lady Talon to find Empyrean a viable alternative to Maliphant. When next he spoke the stone upon the table would bubble up like a fountain, into the vague likeness of a man and woman in a variety of poses, all melded together, from dancing together, to holding hands, to standing with backs turned to each other, a small hole in the stone where their hearts should be.

"Though change is, in and of itself, immutable Lady Talon... it is not always good and, once again, you know this. But knowledge of the mind and passions of the spirit rarely coincide or give comfort over the other."

He gave a tight smile to her assertion he would only be a fool if she did not cherish her Maliphant, and her Empyrean, a barely perceptive shake of his head prefacing a simple reply of...

"No, I do not."

Thus, with finality, we came to a light-hearted offer overshadowing quite heavy topics. A soft, purring chuckle would leave the ancient Sith Lord, and he would once more shake his head, though this time more notably.

"No, I am afraid the politics of the day are rather too simple to be worth an Empress's time. Our people once more fracture, and scales are balanced only in the fact they are disparate and scattered, though perhaps some would call me unwise to state this in front of the Empress of one of the scale's sides...."

His tone would lower, just a tad, showing that he did not truly care to present her with what might be an otherwise inconvenient fact. A fact that other nobles, other Empresses, other Queens or Chancellors or rulers, might scoff or become infuriated on hearing. Simply because, yet again, he knew she knew, he was not informing her, rather giving her the opportunity to comment if she wished. At least after he added a small, final thought.

"At least, in so far as I am a piece returned to the board, I suppose. Whether Pawn or King, even I cannot say just yet."

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Arctus Silmar
______________________________________________________​

The pale woman leaned back in the chair and her right leg moved to cross neatly over her left while delicate hands settled in her lap. Were it not for the fact that they were in his otherworldly locale with dancing figures on a pedestal her posture could have been confused with a young woman merely waiting patiently for tea to arrive. Lord Silmar was…Clever in his own way. Using the familiar shape of a man and woman to paint the picture of the hole so succinctly in her heart.

It reminded her of a shadow box she'd had as a youngling.

Pieces of elder wood cut and shaped to fit into grooves so that when a candle burned low in the middle the shadows that it threw created a story. Each box was personalized. Her own had been a story of adventure and daring deeds in which she served the Queen of Eshan faithfully until her heart took a final beat. It had been entirely fictitious of course, a treasure, for a youngling steeped in war and bloodshed with Thyrsian incursions on the rise. With the Collective barking at their door.

With the Queen missing. Her people dead.

It painted a pretty lie.

So, perhaps, did the Shaper. Was he trying to coddle her like her mother had when the bombs fell? Was he trying to shield her from the fact that she would never see the man she had married ever again? To assure her that it was perfectly reasonable to be frustrated, angry, and hollowed out from the lack of which she required most in this galaxy? She didn't know, precisely. Likely…That was the point. To stir her with poignant words and bring a swift curtain call to what seemed like an unsatisfactory ending.

Her aching desolation was inconceivable. Unfathomable—But it was real. True. She would rather go through a million lifetimes with the shadow of her other half than to go without. His current state was punishing. Being without him? Not being able to feel his Darkness in the Force?

That would have been the cruelest fate of all.

"Maliphant and Empyrean are inherently one and the same. He is always with me. Within me. Around me. Breathing through me. Even with the corruption of the Worm…He sees who I am and has never turned away just because it hurts to look while I live and breathe…", Srina intoned softly, though, her expression never moved from the same dulcet expression. A lesser woman might have sobbed with conditions as they were. Cried about how unfair it was. About how change had ruined everything. They would have lamented day in and day out about never being able to see him as he was or be as they were. "Memory…"

"Memory is the sweetest balm and an everlasting sorrow. It sustains me. It has damned me—But I have long ago come to terms."

He moved on to the next topic of discussion and she listened quietly once more. The Sith were always prone to splintering. "You know that you state the obvious in regards to our people, Lord Silmar. I will not fault you that…One on top, then another, then another. The cycle is endless and even if my eyes were removed from their sockets…I would know it."

Srina fell silent for a long moment while considering all that he had spoken. She turned it around in her mind and eventually drew a light breath before releasing it in a small sigh. "You are a King far more than I am a Queen…I was not born into nobility. Empress is a title that was granted by right of marriage—Not by prowess nor did I seize it. The Lady Sith of the Order is…"

"Barely a Lady at all. I am a soldier, a warrior, and excellent in that role. I assume…That is why the Sepulcher have sent me to you. I underwhelm their expectations of all else."

It was interesting, but, not unexpected.

"All I seek is betterment for our people. Who provides it—Matters not."

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

As Srina Talon began to speak The Shaper watched her and he did not bother with even the vague nicety of hiding his inhuman, neigh, unnatural nature from her. His steel grey eyes did not blink, his chest ceased it's movement, and all about The Shaper went unnatural still as he drank in what the Empress of the Sith had to say. He drank in what he knew, and what Srina likely knew, was a lie. That or she had convinced herself it was her truth for the sake of her sanity. A thought only reinforced as she stated how precious memory had become to her, that it was a balm to her, sustenance and sustainment for the spirit and mind. In truth if he thought that shattering this pair of memory-laden lenses would hurt her he would have done so without a second thought, the words burning like embers upon his tongue even as he knew they would be insufficient. No he did not spare her the ugly fact that she may have convinced herself away from out of kindness or a newfound sense of mercy he spared adding the point because it would have achieved nothing and he was stating obvious things to her already in order to elicit a response. Doing such a thing too much would only make him seem foolish and so he let her speak.

As Srina continued, insisting that he KNEW what he said was obvious, he allowed his body to once again take in it's normal functions, and allowed a small expression of his will to travel into the palace's empty halls. All of her words were taken in, the flowing stone between them melting away harmlessly, no longer invoking memories of a little girl and a dead Queen, instead it become a pensive mirror of only slightly imperfect clarity, making features jar against themselves, distorting and warping as he did not care to make stone into a sheer surface with his will. No sooner had she finished her final syllable than a single robed servant entered, a tray in hand, and another table would arise to his right and her left. The tray would contain two pristine glasses and a bottle of fine grain whine, made of Korribani spring water.

The servant would place the tray, bow their respects, and leave without a word as he made it a point to physically offer her a glass, should she choose to take it, and pour himself a glass of the wine. Commenting idly to her to form a break in the conversation.

"A gift from one who calls himself Darth Nwul though I am sure you are familiar."

Naturally should Srina desire some it would be granted before the wine bottle was placed back upon the tray and he thought for a brief moment. A single sip of the wine being levied to his lips before he sighed a gentle noise and nodded to her.

"You are as astute as any legend could make you out to be Lady Talon. Though perhaps this verbal dance of ours has taken a step I would do well to lead you into. Tell me Srina Talon, Exarch of the Confederacy, Empress of the Sith, Wife of Maliphant and Lady of Infinite Secrets as I am sure you are..... why would I.... a man with but one world to my name, no allies, no empire, tell you of all women the simplest reality of our people while it occurs around you and those you love?"

This question, The Shaper knew, was entirely unfair to her. It was both entirely genuine and entirely not, and he would take one more sip of the grain wine before responding to her comments about her suitability as Empress and her final statement about betterment for the Sith.

"Aahhh now there are two statements I can agree with. You are ill-suited to the role of Empress, of courts and politics, it is not your nature. But as for what is best for our people? I quite agree. The Jedi grow fat and lazy in the core and the time of the Rule of Two is long and truly dead, that option is lost to the Sith as we do not have the luxury of waiting centuries for the Jedi to grow truly and utterly pathetic as they have in the past."

The Shaper set his own glass down on the second, only half empty, and smiled a slow, casual smile.

"Were you an Empress in truth, Lady Talon, tell me: What do you see as best for our people? What would YOU do to lead them?"

An unspoken curiosity lay simmering behind The Shaper's eyes, his attention fixated solely upon her.

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Arctus Silmar
______________________________________________________​

His nature did not concern her.

Srina preferred to deal with others as they were. Not the shells, loyal servants, or puffed-up party-political savants they pretended to be. She had no patience for games and unnecessary subterfuge…And thus rarely indulged in it. His stillness barely registered. She was a creature that was often compared to a marble statue. Unmoving, unthinking, unfeeling. Much of her time was spent in the presence of one who did not breathe unless he needed to speak so the air of normalcy was far from shattered. The Shaper could choose to accept or deny her words at his own volition, however, the nigh ancient creature seated across from her would find it exceedingly difficult to render her mind under his control. That was what would have been required to change her mind.

To change her heart. Forcible, painful, spine-breaking—Control.

It was an intrusion that she assumed, even he, dare not attempt. No matter the reason. It was possible that it wasn't even a fleeting thought in his mind…But it did occur to her. To liberate someone from something that sounded so outlandish, so foolish, that they were wasting their potential and youth holding on to something that didn't exist. Their ability to progress and grow stunted by remaining at a standstill. And yet…Her endless love for Empyrean, for Maliphant, remained steadfast.

Evermore.

Srina knew who Darth Nwul was by hazard of her current occupation. "We have spoken.", she offered lightly, though, occluded the details. It had been an interesting meeting but it was neither here nor there. The diminutive Dread Queen declined the offer of wine because unlike most of her brethren that seemed obsessed with the red liquid…She despised it. It dulled her senses and left her feeling slow, encumbered, and dangerously vulnerable. As little of a threat she felt while in the presence of Lord Silmar…It was a thread she would have been foolish to pull.

His first question was met with the faintest smile. If he blinked too quickly, he would miss the ghostly pull at the kiss of her mouth. It was one that informed that she had already thought of this…That she had considered it…And decided to answer anyway. "…To see what I might say. It might be more prudent to make accusations…But letting someone speak is the most surefire way to learn. While I do indulge in necessary omission…I do not lie…."

Something he may or may not have been aware of.

"When I choose to speak it will be the truth as I know it to be."

He agreed that she was ill-suited for the role that she had been provided. No surprise, there. She knew it to be true and took no offense to the assessment. She had been born of Clan Talon on Eshan. Her family was respected on the planet itself for their victories during war, for their skill in combat, but there was no nobility in her blood. She had been raised a warrior. Not a politician. She often handled issues for Empyrean when his temper reached a point of critical mass—But it was only to keep him from obliterating someone or something the Order might have use for. His bloodlust was satiated by her touch and presence, but, that did not make her an expert in dealing with legislation.

Just an expert at navigating the tempest that was the Emperor.

When the Shaper asked his final query…She paused. It wasn't that she needed to think of the answer. She was merely surprised that he asked. Srina handled that which was asked of her by the Sepulchral or her husband…She had not the capacity, nor, the influence that she had held within the Confederacy. She held the ears of powerful men…But not the presence that would bring people to her side without a word. She recalled barely needing to lift a finger as the Exarch. Now…The Order feared her and she fed on that fear, adequately so, but it wasn't the same as knowing that her word was essentially law.

It wasn't the same as knowing when she gave the order to descend on an enemy, they would fight for her out of love. Because she respected them, taught them, and took care of their needs. "Power is of two kinds, Lord Silmar. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love and adoration is a thousand times more effective and permanent than that which is derived from fear of punishment. One leads to devotion. The other, to resentment."

"Rebellion."

She paused for a moment to let that sink in before making her way back to the point. There seemed to be some sort of deficiency in Sith culture that made the galaxy think they were incapable of love…But passion had been bred into their bones. It was what moved them to reach for the stars while burning their hands on the light they exuded. It moved mountains, moved armies, and gave them a reason to move forward when it would be so simple, so easy, to give up. In truth…She thought he would know the answer to this as well—But she indulged him nonetheless.

"…I would go to war."

Golden eyes swept down while she continued, softly, and with no small amount of confidence. This was where she excelled. She was a conqueror as Darth Carnifex had so aptly stated in the past.

Not a Queen.

"I would bring the Sith together beneath one banner so we might grow stronger than any maelstrom known to the galaxy. So that we might act with one mind, one might, in a wave so powerful that the deeds of the Bryn'adûl during their great crusade look like children playing with toys. I would teach our people. Show them the face of the Jedi, our true enemy, and guide them to embrace the darkness with unyielding conviction. My reign would be a crucible of power that is tempered with cunning strategies…and sustained by unwavering loyalty."

Srina gestured toward the ever-shifting surface of the mirror he had created and willed it to respond to her in the same way it had created for the Shaper. She was not as skilled at smoothly manipulating matter as he was, however, she was able to coax it into fruition. There was a reason he was called the Shaper and she was not. "My first move would be a calculated strike against known Jedi strongholds. Surprise, our ally. Our fleets would move with a precision that would leave the Jedi scrambling to react. We would…Choke the life from their sanctuaries. Extinguish, the Light of their Order."

With her words, she painted her host a picture of shifting plans, ships, and maneuvers that left their enemies empty and without any safe harbor left to regroup. "But…True victory is not only won on the battlefield…It is secured in the hearts and minds of those who serve the Sith Order. Since love is not an option for most…Fear will be our weapon. Loyalty, our currency. Those who falter would be purged while those who remain would revel in the power bestowed upon them."

Her hand rose as she let the mirror return to its near-flawless and inert state. Deft fingers came to trace the edges of the phylactery she wore around her neck and her eyes narrowed for a moment before she continued. "The Jedi…Preach restraint. I would have our Order surrender to the boundless power of the Darkside. Our academies would be harbingers of raw potential that forge warriors, even greater than I, who are trained to accept their passion and emotion as weapons. I believe that the strength of the Order lies in the strength of its individuals—"

She paused, abruptly, when she realized that she was likely giving him more information than he was looking for. Her cheeks took on the faintest of rouge while her eyes dropped down to her hands. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her opinion on anything, outside of Empyrean, and even then, it could be challenging. He was always making moves in his mind no less than four steps ahead. Srina could have gone on and on but…Felt she should have stopped long ago. "Forgive me my Lord…"

A soft sigh left her.

"The state of our Order is often on my mind."

As if that excused her. Even silent…Her plans to purge the weakness from the galaxy seemed turbulent and near to resurfacing. The Jedi were a lie. Full of false promises and good intentions that left them no better than those they thought they were fighting. "If I was left to my own devices… This unspoken armistice that seems to have settled would be broken. Not out of hatred, nor vengeance, but for the simplicity of ensuring our survival."

Srina…Srina would have the Jedi know that their demise was inevitable. Her eyes darkened while her thoughts spiraled toward battle plans and tactics that were readily available. She had nearly taken a Jedi for her husband, and had, taken one for a lover in her youth. She knew their weaknesses. She knew their secrets. She would have the Sith cast a shadow so dark that even the greatest of the Light would feel the bitter cold. The desolation. And tremble—

While they were erased from the annals of history.

That…That was what Srina Talon would do.