One Sith Response to the State of the Republic (Black Flag order)

[Sage Bane]

Now that his palace on Fresia was nearly built, Hand of the Dark Lord, Sage Bane was enjoying a short hiatus from the One Sith's robust military operations. Clad only in a Zeyd-cloth bathrobe, the Sith Lord had just enjoyed some downtime with two beautiful apprentices who now lay draped half-naked over his sumptuous Corellian leather couches. He had another apprentice waiting for him in his room for later. It was good to be a Sith Lord.

Sage usually only tuned into the Holonews when he absolutely needed to. Although this was not one of those times, he happened be watching the shrill-voiced Republic Prime Minister's State of the Union address. By the Maker, why didn't someone just turn her to the Dark Side already? When he heard the Prime Minister announce the Black Flag order, a rich, dark laugh bubbled up from his throat. The One Sith armies had never been stronger, as evidenced by the Republic's unceremonious trouncing on Ord Mirit. The putrefying vestiges of the Light Side were slowly being burned away by the Dark Side, and as the Force became more and more unbalanced in the galaxy, it only made the Sith stronger. If the Republic felt that this new order would help silence the mewling of the weak kittens that comprised their followers, then by all means, feed them that delicious pablum.

With a disinterested sigh, Sage settled in to watch the rest of the broadcast, knowing that the Prime Minister's speech would bore him to tears. Truth be told, he was simply waiting to see if they would trot out the other one, the blonde, [member="Cecily de Demici"]. At least she was easy on the eyes.

Spoiler

Sage yawned, his finger hovering over the remote. The more things changed the more things stayed the same.


@All One Sith [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Darth Mythos"] [member="Darth Noxia"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="Darth Vizios"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Isamu Baelor"] [member="Vengeance"] [member="Lucas Gravois"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Darth Azurea"] [member="Kinsey Starchaser"] [member="Lord Ajihad"] [member="Xavka Duquo"] [member="Darth Drethi"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Vornskr didn't even tune into the broadcast, but shortly after it ended he was notified of it's existence by one of his underlings. A limping rat-like cretin by the name of Christof hobbled up beside his master as the latter quickly read through the recorded synopsis of the stately address. While Vornskr himself was rather quiet and stone-faced as he read through the data, Christof was not so stoic and quite comically started to cackle, his scrawny frame heaving with the effort of his wheezing laugh. "I swore I'd never see the day when the Republic finally got the stones to mark you planks dead on sight." He laughed a moment longer before he realized his possible error in speaking out of turn, and quickly clamped down and cast a apologetic glance to the Sith. Against his typical nature, Vornskr just smiled broadly and even allowed himself a momentary chuckle; "When you push something to it's limits it either breaks or it adapts to survive, this course of action was not unexpected. The Republic is desperate now, their military campaigns have all but failed and now they can no longer adhere to the teachings of their Jedi backbone."

He rose, his cloak billowing behind him theatrically as he moved several paces forward further into the bridge. He looked out the wide viewport, staring out at the assembled warships as they mingled around a multitude of shipyards around a gas giant whose clouds churned orange and black. It was the Sith-Imperial War Fleet Black Iron, the personal fleet of Darth Vornskr, Voice of the Dark Lord, assembled together to push deep into the Unknown Regions and carve it out for the One Sith Empire. A task that Vornskr had taken to with enthusiasm and unmatched cruelty when dealing with malcontent locals and various brigand organizations that had begun to flourish after the Republic and Fringe Confederacy shrank away from the vast untamed swath of space.

"I once heard a quote from a long deal philosopher and poet; When the heroes abandon morality and ethics to defeat the villain, then evil has truly won." Another short chuckle; "Their end will come soon. By our design or theirs, it will come."

 

[Judah Lesan]

The events of the Galaxy were never new, not to one who had seen the past most only dreamed to relive. There was an old saying Xander had been forced to learn as his school master educated him in various religions, "There is nothing new under the sun. What has once been will be again." It was this proverb Xander used to tune out the news, but tonight he'd found nothing better to do. He could have been training, but instead he sat reclined on the chase lounge in the sitting room of his personal yacht. A glass of wine was in hand, and Xander rest comfortably in a pair of loose pants and his smoking jacket, though the monarch never smoked.

While some would think the speech given by the Prime Minister of the Republic was a marvel of oratory genius, Xander found it to be nothing but an attempt to play at the emotions of her audience. They were a broken people, willing to hear anything, do anything. It was in times of desperation, when the pressure was strongest, the true test of a person's character was applied. Who was this politician under the facade of make up, and mediocre speeches? A loud laugh escaped Xander as the order was given.

"She is no different then the faction she wished to stop," he said to no one in particular.

Under the pressure of defeat, in the moment of desperation, the woman had abandoned the "morality" she had preached, and the eithical uprightness the Galactic Republic claimed to hold dear. In one order they had gone from being a beacon of light to nothing but a bastion of the same evils they accused the One Sith Empire of committing. The signal of an all out bloody was had been given. There would be only one response from the Sith. They were stronger and quicker to action than the Republic. The blood of many innocent lives would rest solely in the hands of the Prime Minister. Her evil heart now plain for all to see, exposed by furnace of testing.

 

[Kenrath]

Vengeance sat in his quarters on board a Razer Class Frigate. He was in meditation when he was interrupted by the Captain.

"Sir your presence is requested on the bridge."

He sighed standing up and making his way to the bridge. Once inside he approached the Captain giving the man a nod.

"What is it Captain?"

The man saluted quickly before speaking.

"Sir we got a notification from Fleet Command." "It came through on the priority channel."

Vengeance nodded and waited as the transmission was pulled up on the main screen. He read through it quickly twice before turning back to the Captain.

"Have we heard from any of the Voices or Hands?"

The Captain shook his head prompting a nod from Vengeance.

"Then get Lord [member="Sage Bane"] on the horn." "I am sure this little stunt is not going to go unanswered."

He waited for another moment waiting for the channel to be opened. Once he got a nod Vengeance spoke.

"Lord Bane............Knight Vengeance." "I was just reading the cliff notes of the speach from the Republic Whatever she is."

He paused.

"Do we have a prepared repsonse and if so where should I meet you and the other Lords?" "I have two Apprentices itching to get into a fight."

[member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Aaron Alphonse"] [member="Vaulkhar"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

The scene was a bit rough. A bit dark. There were sounds in the background, and those sounds one would only find in a certain place, a very specific sound. That of a body being prepped to be eaten. Lucas Gravois was skinning a creature. And that wouldn’t be a bad thing, as the man was an Anzat hybrid and he needed to eat. So why not let him hunt and go after prey that were not sentients.

Except, that sound of skin and hair being torn away from muscles and bone? Yeah, that sound was accompanied by the screams. Screams of a particularly unlucky Bothan. Did Lucas have anything against Bothans? No. But well, this one looked at him weird and took his seat on the hovertrain to the capital district that morning.

And Lucas was the type of person who was able to forgive and forget, after the offender was gone. From life. It was really a mystery why someone like [member="Trin Gravois"] had survived as long as she had. In the background was a particular creepy rendition of a popular song, but he also kept the political channel on when he did most things. Lucas liked to know who he was going to have to kill next.

“Shh.” He said as he turned up the holonews. Something about the Republic. Huh, interesting.

But not that interesting.

“Now where were we?” He looked back to the Bothan, a simple cut here, then gloved hands (no need to get blood under his fingernails) reached into the flesh and tore down. That was a sweet sound, the flesh and the scream.

Then you can start to make it better…

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Meanwhile on Glee Anselm in an underwater home deep in the Nautolan capital of Pieralos, Darth Azurea and [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] had just finished a meal. Their lives had been training, warfare and chasing around Terentateks lately, and it was a rare occurence for them to be together just relaxing in their abode. Azurea put on some music and opened a bottle of kelp wine made from a nearby Nautolan winery, when her datapad pinged with a bulletin to turn on a holonet monitor, which she promptly did.

The HNN news was re-running the breaking news of the recent broadcast of the Republic Prime Minister's speech signing an executive order to execute the Order of the Sith. Alarming announcers, talking heads and pundits alike were now in a heated debate over the order while another camera, inset at the bottom right of the screen, showed the jubilant crowd's reaction.

"Do you think we need more security at the Academy?" she asked, uncorking the wine with a satisfying pop. She poured them both a glass and sat down by the Togruta Knight on the sofa. Even they were powerful figures in the Order of the Sith, they had their mundane moments too. With a soft touch she squeezed his knee and tried not to look too distressed by the news. Being a former Jedi, Azurea was much more prone to weaker and fearful moments than her counterpart. But that's what made their relationship so symbiotic. Pyrrhus chose to sneer at others for their fragility or perhaps he would go so far to take advantage and kill them. But Darth Azurea had embraced the Dark Side of the Force because of her weakness for him. This was a vulnerability she showed only to him, and to date, he had allowed her to show it without question. I just hope this isn't the thing that precipitates a change in any part of our situation, she thought. Her grief over her sister's presumed death was just a faint fingerprint on her psyche now. Her life was routine and almost satisifying. This new development unsettled her to the core, but she knew it would fuel the Togruta's passion for bloodlust and revenge.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus, taking a break from meditation and training at [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]' Acadeny on Glee Anselm, sat in a comfortable reclining chair in a lounge. There were a couple of other Sith Apprentices and Acolyte's around.

Their young eyes did not stray to the holonews until a breaking new broadcast came on. The woman on the holo spoke of a Galactic Republic executive order. An order to give the Order of the One Sith...

No mercy. Because we...asked for it.

Most, if not all of the surrounding acolytes burst into laughter, mocking the Republic almost in total unison. "Aww, Republic scum's grown some gall!" "How adorable! They think they're tough!" "They think they're intimidating! Ha!"

Mullarus leaned forward in his seat, on the edge of it, watching and listening closely to the newswoman's words. He said nothing and a smile did not set upon his face like the rest of his comrades. He did not mock the Republic. He did not laugh. He was not amused. At all

The room almost seemed to shake faintly. Anger and hatred flowed down Mullarus' veins like fire in a dry forest. His fists clenched tightly. His eyes shut tightly. A couple of acolytes glanced at him. One even asked him, "Hey, uh...Pyrrhus' apprentice...?" The young, golden haired human man asked, feeling somewhat afraid of what kind of passion hid beneath the Sith Lord's Apprentices calm demeanor. "Y-you...okay, bro?"

Mullarus' mask of neutrality he seemed to always wear now faded, being covered by a sinister scowl. He stood up fast, gaining the attention of a few more sith hopefuls. "No, Acolyte...i'm...NOT...OKAY!" The young man angrily hurled a fist through the air, accidentally sending an acolyte flying against the metal wall in the process.

"LISTEN to this garbage! HEAR THE REPUBLIC! How...how KARKING arrogant! They act like they're the victims! They act as if they are the speakers of truth and the beacons of hope and...they...they speak to the galaxy as if they are the ones in the right! They talk like they have never done ANYTHING to deserve the war that has been brought before them! They speak as if they have NEVER murdered children and citizens of the One Sith before..."

Mullarus' voice raised, his anger rising, "The Galactic Republic look upon themselves as the glorious 'good' in this war! They think they are the examples of 'truth and morality'. Well...LOOK AT THEM NOW! Just as bloodthirsty...only they try to cover it with...excuses. 'We are the victims! We meet the Sith's needless spilling of blood with more!' UGH! WHAT FILTH THEY SPIT BEFORE THE GALAXY!"

Unable to control his rage, Mullarus kicked over a table nearby, making a mess of the lounge. He seethed with hatred before the eyes of every Sith Acolyte in the room. They knew who he was and why the founder of the very academy they trained at chose him over them to train personally. They did not dare stop him.

"Let this be a lesson to you Acolytes! The Sith might breed many of ill-intent. The Sith might train their young soldiers and warriors to be brutal, bloodthirsty monsters. Maybe our war with the Republic has forced our hand to take lives we should not...But at LEAST we do not LIE to the ENTIRE GALAXY about what we stand for! The Sith...we are at least HONEST...we do not boast before the entire galaxy and call ourselves the victims! I'm sure many of you have witnessed Republic lies and corruption...they're right here on this holo! Many of you may have lost family needlessly to the wrath and dishonor of the Republic, too! Like ME!"

Mullarus exhaled. He caught his composure again befoe finishing. "I...hate the Republic. I hate them all. I train and grow so I can slaughter and annihilate them. They took my family from me...i'll take theirs from them. Blood for karking blood, I say. What say you, Acolytes? Do you fight for the Sith for personal revenge? Does the thought ot vengeance drive you? Maybe you're just a patriot. Just know...the other Sith Lords we train under will not praise you once. Hear it from me. I am grateful to fight, train, and die beside all of you. I am glad this filthy cesspool of corruption that acts like it is the beacon of hope and the savior of the galaxy has this kind of young, hopeful opposition.

"We see through their deception."

Mullarus approached a nearby closet and started taking out some cleaning equipment. He began to clean up the mess he made in his fit of rage. Other Acolytes joined him without a word.

"The galaxy is not as black and white as they make it, friends. We are not all evil. As you can now see, the Republic has it's villains, too, and they are...everywhere.

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

She frowned.

It wasn't that she couldn't accept the reality of war- Drapeam had spent twenty years on the front lines. It was the fact that the 'good guys' felt the need to give an order like that. What did that say about how the war was going?... They were losing, so it seemed, and they felt like they were reaching the end of the line. Or so many would say, but not all. Not everyone saw it as a last-ditch effort to come out on top... or simply an attempt at staying above water.

She didn't see it that way.

They were losing the war, yeah, but they weren't sinking. They weren't drowning or falling or halfway to the bottom already. Not yet. No, they were trying to get past the bump. The One Sith were at the top, on a frakking throne, and the Republic was storming the hill. It hadn't been going that well, and now they were trying another tactic. If they wanted to be King of the Castle then they'd have to take desperate measures to get there.

Maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe they'd lose themselves in the conflict and they'd be left with the scraps of what they used to be. It was a hefty price to pay for a shot at knocking out the biggest player in the game. Were they willing to pay that price? Perhaps they thought they were.

But when it came to the end of the day, Drapeam Nyx wondered how many of the soldiers, the Jedi, would break before the Sith even came close to backing down.
And she wondered if Corvus would make it out alright.

 

[Darth Hauntruss]

Hauntruss had been watching the speech from the personal chambers aboard her star destroyer The Tormentor, while it was en route to a naval operation she was about to conduct.

With her chin rested in her hand the red skinned Sith Lady cracked a grin and softly whispered a response, "How unfortunate." The feed was then cut and her attention returned to a holographic projection of the space system regions of Telti.

 

[Ire'Rain Sekairo]

It wasn't surprising to her. They're losing. That makes people do things they usually wouldn't. It's understandable. She didn't care, really. Death was unavoidable, she knew that, and she knew that she'd die eventually. If the Republic was now more willing to kill her, then she'd just have to keep doing what she was already doing: Fighting.

But the others, the Sith she was training with on Glee Anselm, they didn't seem to share her apathy. Some of them jeered, others yelled, and still a few practically cheered. They welcomed 'the challenge to come'. Ridiculous, she thought, nothing has changed besides how they're presenting themselves.

One acolyte seemed to have an especially hard time accepting the news. His rage, his anger, filled with room, and he sent another apprentice flying into the wall. Well that's... much. No one seemed to question him though, they simply watched as he ranted, as he kicked a table. It... annoyed her. And when he finished, when he went to clean up the mess he made, she stayed back, away from the others.

Experience makes all the difference, she thought. How much has he seen? What makes him... interpret these things in such ways? Does he only hear what he wants to hear? Vornskr's apprentice frowned, debating whether or not to say anything. She didn't know the acolyte. Didn't care for him, for his story, or for whoever bossed him around. Simply staying quiet seemed like the logical thing to do to her, yet...

"We're at war."
A few people glanced in her direction. One or two seemed... worried.

"They say what they say to keep their people going. To keep them brave, despite the defeats we have brought to them. What does this announcement change? Nothing. We will still fight. We will still kill, and some of us will be killed. That is the way of war. They usher out lies just as much as we do."

Ire paused, her face now expressionless. This was what she considered the truth. There was no need for her to put emotion into her words, or into her thoughts. Anger wasn't always the way for things.

"Do you think we are honest? Perhaps some of us are, if only at times. If we were honest, the people of the Empire would not follow us. They would not accept the Sith as rulers. Who would? It is in our code to strive to make ourselves the best. To fight for ourselves, to become as powerful as we can be, if only to serve ourselves. Most of us follow each other only so we can further ourselves, or so we can avoid their wrath."

Someone motioned for her to stop talking, but she paid them no heed.

"We lie, they lie, we all do what we must to keep the masses on our side, or to keep them longing for our victory. Perhaps it is not honorable. But war is not honorable. It never is. That is fact."

The apprentice paused again, still wondering why she bothered. There were things for her to do, tasks for her to accomplish for her King, and people for her to kill. But she knew war, her family knew war, and they knew honor. Even if the Sekairos had stopped trying as hard to keep it as they once had. They still knew it's call, it's feeling.

"Stand amongst the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters in the end."
"Spoiler: It doesn't."

[member="Mullarus"]
​

 

[Reverance]

The water bubbled and frothed as Gabriel clicked through the channels. Landing on this particular showing, looked to be Chazwa from what he could gather, he paused and listened.

"Anything good on?" Dr. Neist walked in, datapad in hand.

"Uhh...looks like a sit com...or maybe a rom com of some type?"

The Good doctor made a disgusted face as he fixed his glasses, focusing on the imagery. "Sit coms...they're the lowest form of entertainment." He tapped his foot. "Come on, lets check out the health of that arm."

Yes dad. Gabriel turned off the device and lifted himself from the hot tub, preparing for his evaluation of the voxyn arm.

 

[Krux Mullarus]

Mullarus listened to the lone acolyte who said something in response to his...angry rant. Looking back, it probably wasn't smart to go on like that. He let his emotion get the best of him again. It was no wonder he was still an apprentice. Full of passion, but still so...untempered.

He did not lock eyes, or even seem to care what the girl was saying. He was almost embarassed, as if he had stepped out of line in doing what he did.

Until she began to talk about how much honor didnt matter. That struck a nerve.

He turned his indigo gaze in her direction, "Heh. Of course. Honor doesn't matter. No. We are all animals deep down. All we do is kill. Slaughter without meaning. One's character does not mean anything in the field of battle, no, for that you are right."

He did not allow his anger to best him again. He let it out a frustrated sigh. "But if I had a blaster with one bolt left and the choice to shoot either a Jedi Knight who chose to spare the life of a wounded, beaten Sith out of respect for how well he had fought, or a Sith Lord who slew an unarmed Jedi after he had fought valiantly to defend his country...Republic or not, I would take the Sith's life. But what do I know? Honor and respect are for civilized folk, and we are all meant to be heartless brutes with a lust fo death and blood!"

He locked eyes with the girl, "Yeah. Those trillion souls perished. They died as men that even their enemies could respect. I'll be sure to reccomend you when we need some brave soldier's family slaughtered in their sleep.

[member="Ire'Rain Sekairo"]

 

[Nerius]

Nerius sat at his Throne on Taloraan, with an odd look on his face. He had happened upon the showings as it began, and with mediocre interest he watched through. She was a powerful spirit, full of energy, no matter how displaced it was!

Unnecessary destruction and slaughter was a time of the past. Yes the Empire still claimed planets on a regular basis, but did unification for the betterment of all have any I'll will behind it? He doubted it. As far as he had seen, though servants to the darkside, the Order of the One Sith was fighting to bring everyone galaxy wide to the same government.

They would bring peace!

 

[Ire'Rain Sekairo]

She nodded.
"The others might question your loyalty to the Sith for that. They might call you weak," she replied, almost sounding like she was going to say the same thing. But she paused, seemingly forming her next sentence carefully. After a moment she continued. "Perhaps I should have articulated myself better. Honor matters not in war, not in the rush of battle, or in the height of conflict. You will find yourself in fights that do not end until either you are your opponent have died, regardless of whether or not there are any families to come home to. Honor has been the death of many... unfortunately."

There was a flicker of emotion in her eyes, what almost seemed like sadness. For her that was unusual.

"There might come a time when you will be faced with that situation. Spare the Jedi's life, risking the chance that they might come back to fight you or your kin, or kill them, preventing them from doing any more harm. In a time of peace, letting them live will not harm you, it may even bring you a potential ally. But in a time of war..." Once again she paused, letting herself frown a little. "In a time of war, that Jedi will come back. They might not fight you. But they'll fight the rest of us. Because we are Sith, brothers of the black cloaks, and they are Jedi, so-called guardians of the light."

"Be as honorable as you wish, as honorable as life may let you be. Just be careful that the ones you spare do not become threats, or your kin might think to take you down, even if I don't. I do... feel the need to remind you, however, that only so many lives can be saved. In the scale of things a few souls let go isn't really much. It will matter to some, though not all, of course."

Then she turned to go, seemingly done with the conversation. Yet still something was nagging at the back of her mind. So she halted in the exit-way, not even bothering to look back.

"As for the brave soldier's family... well, I'm an assassin, darling, it's what I do. And I must regrettably say... better his family than mine."

[member="Mullarus"]​

 

[Vaulkhar]

Vaulkhar strode upon the deck of the ship he currently traversed the galaxy with. Rumors spread quickly upon the Frigate he currently strode through of the Republic's speech, as well as the question of how it should be answered. He himself believed it mattered not. Whether this speech was made or not, war would still be had, and blood would still be shed. With that being said, this speech was a direct insult to the Sith, in many ways. He knew it would not go unanswered. The blind man was well aware of the cry for blood that would follow suit. And knowing such, he decided it be best to have council with his Master [member="Vengeance"] upon the matter.

The apprentice heard his master utter his shared-title just before mentioning their desire for blood. Though he most certainly would not agree with a desire for bloodshed, Vaulkhar too would not disagree. He desired to test his skills in a life threatening situation, as that is the only time they mattered. But the death of millions, possibly even more did not exactly fit his fancy. He agreed with the ideal of peace through subjugation, but the genuine idea of seas of blood being spilled over such a foolish idea by the leader of the Republic, was not one he entirely agreed with. Either way, the words of his master and the orders of the One Sith came before his own feelings.

"Pardon my intrusion, Captain."

Vaulkhar nods to the Captain, receiving one in return before he turns to Vengeance.

"What are your orders, my master?"

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Idly zapping through the various channels Carach finally ended up at the transmission of the Prime Minister’s address. Most of the time it was pure entertainment, a joke that was somehow still taken seriously by the people of the Republic - after seven years of losing one world after another, after seven years of losing their entire infrastructure, their factory worlds and shipyards, after seven years of dying for a cause that no longer mattered… Lasedri still somehow thought that her words mattered.

That her faith mattered.

That she could somehow win this war by shouting a little bit louder into the shrinking crowds of supporters, but just as an admiral cannot counteract the effects of Battle Meditation by singing like an idiot… so could a Prime Minister not simply turn around a war by meaningless propaganda.

Besides.

There was literally nothing that changed with this supposed new bill. It was as if the Minister did not know its own army and soldiers, as if she hadn’t been around for the invasions and skirmishes - the soldiers of the Republic had already been shooting to kill, or was she actually subtly denouncing the past acts of her own warriors?

Not even she could be that stupid.

Carach hoped. Mostly because if she was, then it was just a greater insult that the Republic hadn’t folded yet and was still trying to act like its presence was relevant to anyone these days.

His cane hummed softly with a tone of hope.

“No, no. No destruction today. It’s my day off.”

A sad hum came as an answer.

“It isn’t like the damage lasts anyway. They have discovered the art of spontaneous regeneration, whatever damage we do, they manage to repair within a day.”

An angry hum replied.

“Yes, I agree. Distasteful and not very sportsmanlike, but what can you do?”

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Thud, thudthud, thud, thudthudthud, THUD.

The bag jerked with each punch Darth Ophidia placed on it. Her bare feet shifted on the sandy stone floor as she flowed around the heavy, suspended object in a continuous movement. She turned her hip and extended her leg in a circular kick which made the bag jump violently on chain. As her foot touched back down on the sand and stone, she extended her right hand towards a canister of water which in turn snapped into her palm. Her left foot slipped under a towel and kicked it over her shoulder. The Rattataki's bald, ashen head was covered in droplets of sweat, trickling down her brow and neck.

Taking a hearty gulp of the quenchiest water she had ever tasted, Ophidia let her pale eyes set on the holoprojector. Seeing Lassendri speaking, she focused so whole-heartedly she spilled a portion of her H20 on her sweat-soaked top. The water dripped from her chin as she picked up the remote control and turned on the volume in order to hear the Prime Minister's address. Upon hearing the human's words, Darth Ophidia's lips curled into a wry smile. She put the remote back down, took another gulp of water, then proceeded to wipe the sweat from her face, all the while listening to the music that was Lasedri's desperate plea to the Republic.

The war was escalating and their foe had abandoned the moral high ground. Carnage was imminent, and it would be glorious.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

Wearing hip-hugging black shorts and a white-tank, one of Sage's apprentices was not laying about half-naked on those leather, Corellian couches. Although, that would probably come later. After she practiced force choking and forms of poisoning on those other apprentices. Well, maybe later. The social teen liked having lots of people around, especially if they distracted Sage so she could practice her rebellious-independent streak.

She wasn't really being rebellious. She was just working on her first love: ships, speeders, and bikes. Smudges of oil decorated the white-tank. With a loud-pop she closed the hatch of the speeder she was making some adjustments to. She turned up the volume of the holo-emitter to hear the Republic's broadcast.

"Huh."

B.O.R.I.N.G.

That reminded her, she needed to ask Sage something. Wiping oil-stained fingers on her shorty black shorts, she wandered her way up toward one of her master's many sitting rooms. She heard the drull-sound of a holocast. "Saaage," she leaned in the doorway, using a sing-song voice. "you promised I could have a comm again and I haven't checked my Spacebook page in AGES." Too-blue eyes looked at him imploringly. Did he not realize how many likes, friend requests, and messages she was missing?!?!

The tragedy.

[member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Kenrath]

Vengeance looked at the Captain for a moment when [member="Vaulkhar"] approached. Such a simple question had a less than simple answer.

"Captain monitor the frequency of Lord [member="Sage Bane"] and let me know what his response is."

He then turned to Vaulkhar.

"Walk with me."

He turned exiting the bridge. Once the doors closed he began to speak. It was not so much that he was hiding anything from the crew so much as there are certain things they were better off not knowing.

"It has been a long war." "One that the Republic and their Jedi Guardians as they fancy themselves have been losing horribly." "We are covering ground faster than they can keep up with." "While individual Jedi may win a fight here or there they are still losing the war." "Even two on one they are having a hard time." "A while back we attacked Ruusan just for giggles." "I was still an Acolyte then but ended up having to deal with two and three jedi at once." "We still accomplished our goal despite being out numbered."

He smiled.

"The Republic leaders are desperate." "Since they can't win on the battle field they are waging a war of opinion." "I am sure they hope they will create more opposition for us on the worlds we subjugate or invade."

He laughed.

"The mistake they made is Sith have never cared or wanted to be loved...........just obeyed." "I don't know what the response will be." "I can guess it will move up the timeline on some operations that were already in the works." "That will be up to Lord Bane and the others Hands."

He looked thoughtful before offering up another bit of information that may or may not be needed.

"The Hands plan all of our military operations." "They are basically warlords." "You don't have to be a Hand to plan an operation but it is wise to keep at least one of them in the loop."

 

[Vaulkhar]

"Then I suppose we shall just await the orders of the Hands."

Vaulkhar offered a nod to his master while continuing to follow him.

"Though I have to ask you Master, what separates a Knight from an Acolyte. I'm assuming it's just a matter of experience and general knowledge, but what do you believe personally? And one more question, can you begin to teach me your style? The one you suggested I learn upon first meeting me? My interest in dueling and swordplay has only increased with training with you, and I seek to learn a form of combat that will not drain me out after only a few short moments."