Private LotS │ On the Verge

[Aspect of Passion]

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Naboo
Polaris Court
864ABY

Soft winds across rolling plains, Naboo was as beautiful as ever. Clouds wistfully moved in the distant sky, threatening to run aground on the urban horizon - sky scrapers reaching for the stars dotting the evening sky. Distant purple began to drive back the orange as the sun set, and lights began to mark the surface of the buildings across Theed. There, far from the lights of downtown, stood Polaris Court; home of the Vicelord, a throne to his Empire.​

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Beautiful and grand, it stood as a monument to what he had created for himself - he who once abandoned the Council of Sith to declare another Emperor. Perhaps it was not his reasoning for it, but the Worm Emperor had looked upon it as an act of rebellion against a Sith who weakened themselves with 'Order' and 'The State'. A meeting was long overdue, and after the tearful meeting with Ingrid L'lerim , the Worm moved to meet another.​

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When the home was empty, when Metus was alone in his personal office - the doors would quietly lock, sealing the room. As all before, there would be no indication of what was to occur except the most subtle of details. Insects outside the window, animals, vehicles and all grew deathly quiet for a few select seconds - isolated from the room they stood in, until a chill would snap through the air and between blinks would the Worm Emperor appear. A boogeyman, three meters tall with five electrum masks, he was an imposing figure who carried the void in his very nature.​

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"Isley Verd.", a male spoke with no hint of aggression.​

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"Vicelord.", a second, more relaxed male followed.​

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"Darth Metus.", the last, a woman, ended.​

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"We come to speak of the Sith, of the future of the Order.", it said as it floated forward, trailing the cloak behind it.​

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"More directly, your connection to the Sith Empire."​

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His voice implied nothing was strange about his odd appearance in the Office, nor the sudden isolation they existed within. Was time passing? It was hard to tell, only that the cold terminating off the Worm Emperor was painfully insistent.​

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Darth Metus​

 

[Darth Metus]

POLARIS COURT

The day was yet young.

For the most part, there was nothing out of place within the jewel of the Confederacy. Theed was bustling as per the usual. And given the hour, the garden just behind the Vicelord's desk was teeming with sound. The chirps and songs of the birds. The rush of breezes through the foliage. All came together as a calming symphony for a man busy at work. Per the usual, Darth Metus sat behind his desk - eyes bouncing from datapad to datapad. Betwixt them all was a notebook, upon which he was scrawling key facts regarding the reports.

His handwriting was nothing to write home about, but at least it was legible. That is, until the silence. The Sith felt the arrival before the quiet. A shadow befell his world, coupled with the low clink of locks sliding into place. Odd. The birds went quiet. The breeze ceased. And in their place came an apparition of many heads. The arrival was surprising and caused the man's pen to jump ever so slightly upon the page. A low tch escaped him as he settled his gaze upon the unannounced visitor.

The being spoke. A trifecta of voices, of tones, regarding him with each of his names. The intent? To discuss...the future of the Sith? His connection to the Empire?

The pen was set simply upon the notepad.

He leaned back in his seat, eyebrow raised as he regarded the being.

"What connection?" he began. "Though, the better question is - and you are?"

Aspect of Passion​

 

[Aspect of Passion]

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Naboo
Polaris Court
864ABY

"Many have asked.", the voice offered in return.​

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"Few believe.", the woman instructed.​

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The Worm Emperor did not move from his spot, nor was there anything visible beyond black robes. As each crest was lined with the electrum, Metus would notice each carried a different word from the Sith Code - written carefully in High Sith. It was not a simple construction, but it fit the aggrandized nature of most of their ilk. Gaudy and overbearing, but there was a certainty in the statue like nature of the Worm Emperor that could not be doubted.​

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"But we know you, Isley Verd. You who abandoned the Sith Council, you who conquered, and you who created an Empire of your own. It is respectable. Understand I mean that as a compliment."​

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"How long will it last?", a deep voice intoned.​

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"Until an Exarch spills your blood.", a child said with malice.​

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"However, the Sith as a whole grow weak - full of cancer and sin against the vows they once swore."​

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"They rely on you."​

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"They grow sick on the blood you shed.", the deepest said through gritted teeth.​

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"The help your legions have given them. That is the concern, Isley Verd. Each man that dies in their defense means another thousand Sith fall in the years to come - and while you may have no love for their Order, they will drag you down with the corruption in their spit if you let them."​

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Darth Metus​

 

[Darth Metus]

POLARIS COURT

And so the cycle would repeat.

Darth Metus needed not a straight answer to identify with whom he was speaking. The ancient lyrics scrawled upon the gaudy visages did not provide an immediate key. The truth was in the words. The same sentiment which he had heard time, and time, and time again. The exact sentiment which had driven him to break away from the formal Sith Order and establish his own way.

"Altruism? How kind."

His hands folded neatly upon his lap.

"And you - let's say my legions cease tomorrow and the regime of the present dies the day after. I presume it will be your face...s...leading a new chapter. Is that accurate?"

Aspect of Passion​

 

[Aspect of Passion]

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Naboo
Polaris Court
864ABY

"Is it altruism that a Father might defend his children?", the Sith voice offered back.​

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"Do not misunderstand me, Isley Verd, the future is my only concern."​

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The air hung heavy around the gilded masks, empty eyes like the void all seemed trained on the Vicelord himself. Void like, they seemed as infinite as they did empty - pulling at him, pulling at everything around them with the subtlest of tugs; yet there was no obvious reason as to why. A vacuum in the Force, a thousand voices in a room no bigger than a dozen, and whispers in the darkness spread behind the Vicelord.​

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"The future of the Sith, and the future of the Order. When the regime falls, if I still stand then it shall be me you see - but only as long as I live. Vulcanus, Varanin, Maliphant, Judas of Vahl - a thousand Sith seek my many heads, and one of them will succeed; for it is my existence that drives them to strength."​

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"And when we fall...", the woman offered.​

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"... it will be their strength that drives on the next."​

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"You know of what I speak, Isley Verd. Struggle, hardship, forged in the flames of effort - it is these things that make Sith strong, and it is that which made you strong. It is the lack of such that has made the Zambranos weak, their once-Emperor believe himself a god despite losing his throne, and what they seek to spread to you through osmosis."​

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"An empire of gold..."​

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"Supported by pillars of clay."​

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Darth Metus​

 

[Darth Metus]

POLARIS COURT

The Vicelord's thumbs began to orbit about one another.

"And so the cycle repeats."

The void and voices were not lost upon the Sith. Nor were the names mentioned. Maliphant? The sole result was the slow raising of his eyebrow. His sulfuric gaze simply wandered from visage to visage before he spoke again.

"For as long as I have lived, we Sith follow the same pattern. Galactic dominance, until ambition runs rampant. Rebellion. Schism. Coups. Kaggaths. I can see why Bane only permitted the existence of two - anymore, and any venture taken...well, ends up with concerned fathers hoping for its downfall."

His lips curved into a genuine smile.

"It is the cycle which saw my departure from the formal Order. The future of the Sith is no longer a concern of mine. For the moment, the survival of the Empire suits my goal."

He motioned with his dominant hand. "So, pray tell, outside of the potential of being dragged down with them. What's in it for me?"

Aspect of Passion​

 

[Aspect of Passion]

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Naboo
Polaris Court
864ABY

"Bane knew that the cycle must repeat.", the Worm Emperor interjected.​

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"We would know.", a man chimed in through the whispers.​

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"Or would you have us believe he was not killed by his apprentice?"​

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The voices inflection made it so Metus could nigh hear the eyebrow cocking beneath the metal - but there was no movement the Worm Emperor offered to show such. The masks stayed still, his robes hung loosely on broad unseen shoulders, and the air itself seemed to bend its knee at his presence.​

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"It is foolish to turn your back on the cycle, Isley Verd. You do your own apprentices a great injustice by crippling their ambition."​

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"How many resent you for it?", a woman chimed in from behind him.​

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"How long until it all falls apart, again?", a child mused behind the lowest of masks. It seemed to bounce off the metal, echo'ing before ceasing - but it left a wake of whispers behind it.​

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"If it is not the Order than concerns you, then Qual'al-Selim was correct. You are blinded by politics, married to a throne that can not return love. Destined for a pointless death, and an empire that will fade.", the voice offered almost solemnly, disappointment lining his words.​

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"A shame.", a man offered from the corner of the room.​

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"What you have to gain is a more powerful ally. The Sith suffer, and your reach is limited. Your goals beat themselves bloody against the stone walls of the Rule of Order, and it is only a matter of time before your efforts fail you. Should the Sith be replaced, that the Code take precedent once more, you may yet find a more powerful ally in the Outer Rim. Be it us, or the Zambranos - it is the struggle you take from them that will reforge them, see them fit to extend your reach."​

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"Until the day you are undone."​

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"By your own hubris.", the child offered with malice, this time from besides Metus.​

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Darth Metus​