Ra Vizsla
The Undying
Selvaris
I have a private theory, Sir, that there are no heroes and no monsters in this world. Only children should be allowed to use those words.
Artemis stood on the embankment of Mount Estraphia, looking up at the precipice.
His mind was completed, his body infused with the rush of seven centuries of triumph and technology. The Simulacra, an ancient artifact devised by the Dread Lord of another era, had given Artemis Obauldi's mind a gateway into the present. His vessel was Tsavong Kraal, ex-leader of the Hrosha-Gul and all Yuuzhan Vong factions within One Sith territory, ex-Voice of the Dark Lord. The Myrshavong, a hybrid descendant of the Yuuzhan Vong, had exiled himself following the defeat at the hands of a specific unnamed Tournament combatant. During this same time period, Tsavong had experienced several religious setbacks, leading him to discover his ancestry... an ancestry that led back to the ancient Supreme Overlord Artemis Obauldi... and to the Simulacra, the trap devised by Artemis to divert his consciousness into whichever vessel dared disturbed it.
And after having removed the hybrid's... physical impurities... the Yuuzhan Vong was once more alive and well.
Artemis Obauldi had a vast array of knowledge at his disposal. He had led a massive empire when he was once alive, the largest Yuuzhan Vong faction that had ever graced the face of the Galaxy with the only exception being their initial incursion. Many would hold Supreme Overlord Obauldi as superior in nearly every way to his predecessor Nas Choka in the history books. Many more would hold him as even more idealistic than Supreme Overlord Shimrra Jamaane. Ferocious in his first life, the Dread Lord had conquered his way across the Galaxy in the hopes of instilling a new empire of the Yuuzhan Vong, superior to all those that came before it. Artemis was a family man, and all Children of the Gods were his family. Artemis was a leader, and all subjects were his to defend.
Artemis was a vengeful, tyrannical warlord... and all Jeedai were to be destroyed, without recompense, without negotiation, without acknowledgement or legitimacy.
The memories of Tsavong... this brutish warrior, though intelligent he may have thought himself, had been deceived. By the One Sith, by the Dark Lord, by this pretender Yun-Amon, by Darth Moridin and Daella Apparine. He had been nothing but a pawn to them, nothing but a trinket for them to collect. The Sith viewed the Yuuzhan Vong as tools to wield against their enemies, a manner of which the Galaxy was unprepared for. A manner of waging war in a way unexpected, for the Sith to collect what they viewed as rightfully theirs. It was not rightfully theirs. The Sith had not changed in seven centuries. Conniving though they were, the Sith too were led by sheep, by cowards who masked themselves behind thrones. They planned, they plotted, they manipulated, they claimed they dominated the Force through sheer will.
But they didn't know the truth.
There was no Force. There is no Force. There will never be a Force.
Artemis was the only Force, and the maelstrom on which he rode to the factions of the Yuuzhan Vong on Selvaris would turn the outsiders into ash. He would free these slaves, these children of Yun-Yuuzhan and their creations, from their arrogant overlords. He would free them all and plant an Obelisk in the face of this mountain, overshadowing the rest of the Galaxy.
A Rebellion is coming.
The wrongs of Tsavong, of Yun-Amon the Dark Lord, of Darth Moridin, of the Hydra Queen, of these... pretenders... would be righted.
A Rebellion is coming.
The One Sith would have no choice but to react, and for this, Artemis was prepared.
A Rebellion is coming.
Do-ro'ik Vong Pratte.