Pride and Preju-Sith [One Sith Trial, OS Only]

[Reverance]

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A WOLF, meeting with a lamb astray from the fold, resolved not to lay violent hands on him, but to find some plea, which should justify to the lamb himself, his right to eat him.​

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He then addressed him: Sirrah, last year you grossly insulted me.​

Indeed, bleated the lamb in a mournful tone of voice: I was not then born.​

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Then said the wolf: You feed in my pasture.​

No, good sir, replied the lamb: I have not yet tasted grass.​

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Again said the wolf: You drink of my well.​

No, exclaimed the lamb: I never yet drank water, for as yet my mother's milk is both food and drink to me.​

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Upon which the wolf seized him and ate him up, saying: Well! I won't remain supper-less, even though you refute every one of my imputations.​

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Moral: The tyrant will always find a pretext for his tyranny, and it is useless for the innocent to try by reasoning to get justice, when the oppressor intends to be unjust.​

-Aesop's Fables​

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The Manarai Mountains were a place often associated with mystical and spectral forces. Having been taken in the proclamation of Coruscant, the Vahl and their religious sect claimed the place as their own, burning out the flames of the Umate with a sort of irony, upon offering pyre. The place was cold stone of monuments upon monuments, antiquity surfacing in the vestiges of the location and an aura of ancientness that surpassed even that for the domain properly cleansed. In presentation of the temple, the first thing someone might lay eye upon is the open courtyard, columns of stone encircling a large sitting area with pyre as offset centerpiece in large oval.

Sconces burned hot orange flames against the twilight that seemed perennially trapped within the colossal mountainside, a perpetual threshold between night and day. The Wrath of the Dark Lord, donning his armorweave cloak with weapons and War-Torn armor, remained fixed in leaning position against a column, in full view of the ascending stairs which led to the temple. The rush of water was a soothing tempest of sound against the mountain scape, an aura of serenity encompassing a place built upon bone and sinew. It even smelled of calcareous deposition, he thought, mixed with a healthy batch of sulfur. Bemused, his facial expression remained stone, much to the resemblance of the world around him, as he recalled his ascension towards lofty and burdensome title.

He hated Coruscant, he hated betrayal. The two combined made for a fiery and malevolent Wrath, cemented on the notions that right and wrong, just and unjust, were solid black and white with nothing in between. The accused, she was either guilty or she wasn't. And her mannerism, her defense, and the oration by the Voices of this domain would help determine her fate. There were worse things then death and Gabriel was aware of many of them. But as judge, jury, and executioner of the Dark Lord, he remained complacent of his position and removed from the more pleasurable aspects of his life. This was red tape, easily cut through with the heat of a saber, if not for the need to present illusion of justice. It was a search for truth, at least the hint of it. But in the end, betrayal is the only truth that sticks...

It was all a game. And [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"] had been given a fold-able hand. Sometimes, it took guts to play the hand you were dealt, no matter the aftermath. Today, Coruscant would see what she was made of, the caliber of the character. And by Bogan, the Dark Lord would see debit repaid. By [member="Darth Arcanix"], by Alexandra, it would all flow today. Truth would be had and judgment sentenced. And Gabriel would collect his thoughts towards the subject, ignoring the congregation of those accumulating to see spectacle, with the small exception to those he claimed close allies or more. For him, his focus would be on the accused and his co-judges, Darth Carach and Darth Vitium. But even still, Matsu and Vrag retained occasional wayward glances. From the shadows of the area around them, blackblades stood ever vigilant guard, should those in attendance decide that vengeance be theirs - or should the accused attempt to escape. And he always remained a silent warning, misstep met with absolutism.

The court was roman in concept, a large empty square with seating arranged in concentric and elevated circles outward. In the center, a place for one to stand elevated. While the appeal was rustic, some would wonder whether it has always been there or had merely been erected for the purposes of the event.

[member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Silara"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Alric Kuhn"] | [member="Darth Praelior"]

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric stood in a fine tailored suit that seemed to cling to him better than any clothing had a right to. His face was covered by a pair of HUD-G's, ones which ran with data and recorded the proceedings that were going on, as they always recorded everything. There was a certain air of calm about him, one that he didn't really want to or need to work on projecting.

Behind him stood two Sons of Titan wearing their ever significant armor.

In the crowd of Blackblades they fit in quite well, no one had noticed them or Alric, something that he didn't mind. Of course he knew every single face that was present, some better than others. One in particular stood out to him, and he shot her a warm smile that most wouldn't catch.

They were cut off from each other for obvious reasons, Alric was only here to watch after all, nothing more. She had the more official position.

His shoulders rolled slightly, Alric stretching the muscles of his unfeeling back.

Trials had always been boring affairs, and they would always be boring affairs. Granted he had never been to one held by Sith, just civic trials attended for...well childish antics. Yet he didn't anticipate that this would be any different. Though perhaps the ending would be slightly more bloody. Either way, it didn't matter to Alric. This had never been his goal, only a means to an end.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

The Herglic Sith Lord towered behind a Blackblade, arms crossed belligerently. He always liked to see the trials of traitors. Maybe one day they would finally recognize [member="Vilox Pazela"]'s death as a worthy method of disposal and make all executions from here on out Death-by-Orcus-Bite.

He doubted the defendant would actually be present, whether by capture or of her own means. Likely this would be a Trial in Absentia. Still, he could hope.

Mmm. His mouth watered at the thought. Tasty.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

With a cloth half-mask under a traditional hooded robe, Selka was as anonymous as one could get without looking like one was trying too hard. This seemed like the sort of thing one should attend when one was doing one's best to demonstrate presence to the leadership -- when somewhat constrained in what one could do publicly. Then again, the One Sith were large enough that one more hooded Dark Master was nothing remarkable.
She didn't know the accused, didn't even know of her. Something about a gray Jedi group, if she'd heard correctly. She hoped Reverance the Wrath examined the case in detail, if only so that she'd hear something interesting. Justice, especially here, was generally good for a shrug; it had never held her interest, apart from her favorite corollary to the law of the jungle.

There's no sin in giving someone what they deserve.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Alexandra's eyes remained closed as she looked around her rather with force sight than with that of her physical eyes, her hands bound infront of her and her mind clear as she went over the information that had been delivered to her for her defense, the videos and the true traitors in the Sith. The lies that the two had told the dark lord's wrath would be exposed and she would make sure they suffered for the deceit. It was a waste to be honest though, having learned who called for this trial only caused her to smile as she now understood why the man was so... spiteful. Those around her were signatures that she knew from her time in the Sith, those that she was forced to fight during that annoying engagement but she just breathed in as she knew her only choice had been to fight or she would have been dead.

 

[Darth Ferus]

This was not something the red man would miss. Sitting in the background, he would keep his signature hidden as ever, just waiting for the trial to get underway. What a beautiful day this was. Ferus had a large grin on his face as he watched.

 

[Carliah Dakrone]

Carliah hovered in the back, a large black cloak thrown over her with the hood up to hid her face. She would wait until [member="Darth Arcanix"] and [member="Darth Praelior"] were present before making herself known. She had only ever had brief dealings with the defendant, but if Taeli trusted this woman enough to go into business with her, then something here was very wrong. The Mad Queen of Widek smirked slightly beneath her hood. This would be interesting to watch at the very least. [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Alric Kuhn"] [member="Selka Ventus"] [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"]

 

[Vrag]

A trial. What a joke, the woman thought with a small shake of her head as the whole sorry affair began, clad from head to toe in her typical armor. There was no differentiating between business and pleasure for her, for in her chosen line of work, the two were inseparable. She was standing rather close to the podium, for a reason that still eluded her, but she found comfort in the fact that she was close enough to watch it all come down.

She didn't know anything about the accused aside from what she'd heard whispered and rumored in the days before the trial, and in reality didn't really care to know either. The white-haired woman set to be judged was just another face to the Knight, easily replaced with a thousand others. No matter what happened here today, Vrag would have no trouble sleeping.

Her cold eyes met the crimson gaze of [member="Reverance"] for but a few moments before they both moved on, but the hardened mask he'd put on amused her more than a little. It would be a show for the woman; little more than spectacle to laugh at while she absently wiped the blood off of her hands.

Justice? With the Sith? What an absurd notion. The Order was a practical bunch, the Wrath more so. Knowing that the traitor was in good, capable hands — well, more of the latter and less of the former — the Knight turned he head to the left, looking down to meet the eyes of a certain petite Sith Lord. She would not speak, of course; the very air was heavy with ceremony and procedure, and even Vrag knew not to disturb that.

She grinned at [member="Matsu Xiangu"] instead, knowing full well that the expression would convey her thoughts on the matter anyway. They'd killed enough people together to reach that point.

 

[Darth Isolda]

The Temple of Vahl.

This was the holy ground that all had come to step upon. Here, within the Dark Force nexus of power, the Bogan Goddess representing the destructive nature of the Darkside would be worshiped by her faithful. By the new cult that had taken over and baptised the ground with blood and spirits of the Terrible Glare.

There, within the public theater, seated at the rear upon a throne carved out of Nihil Smokestone, sat the High Priestess of the Chosen of Vahl.

The Eye of the Dark Lord.

For one so mercurial in nature, this was a cause of curiosity at what her stance would be or if she would even partake of the trial at all. Her argent gaze would fall upon the accused with a stoic expression. What manner of thoughts would percolate behind the twin mirrors of her eye would be unknown.

What was, however, is that Darth Isolda was the vessel of the Dark Lord. And if he were to make an appearance, it will only be through her.

Her words were His.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Oh she was here! Orcus had the instant urge to clap his flippers in glee. He squelched it with a happy hauum. Imagination easily skipped to curious pondering of what the albino-haired inveterate might taste like. Slightly sweet with overtones of bile? An acrid, acidic drizzle with a bland, numb-tongue aftertaste? Or maybe a sort of chewy, doughy texture, tender and sticky.

A petrifying smile spread slowly, working its way across Orcus' face until it seemed to stretch from ear hole to ear hole. Wide, spreading lips were ever so slightly pulled back to reveal rows of conical teeth and a mouth that was now overflowing with saliva.

Oceans below! He couldn't wait for the main course.

 

[Onrai]

In the crowd, for reasons yet to be determined, was a woman cloaked entirely in shadow, eager to see how this trial would traverse down the line. She was someone [member="Darth Arcanix"] could potentially recognize, though it was unlikely that most would notice her in her current form. Why was she here? Well, Alex had gotten herself into some sort of trouble, and here she was to see what sort of issue that had been brought forth. Seeing as she had a laboratory located well away from main One Sith space, one which consistent amounts of genetic experiments had been run through at, it was a perfect place for the Echani to disappear to, likely forever.

In the back of her mind, she wondered what the thoughts of Vulpesen were right now, considering the relationship she had with him. Regardless, what would happen here would happen straight-up, with no derivations. Her presence in the Force was toned down as best as she could reduce it - the last thing she needed was another lynch mob.

Then again, she had helped with the One Sith's latest warship, so she was in good.

 

[Lord Ajihad]

Vi'kas had "acquired" a set of Blackblade armor. He was disguised as a Staff Sergeant, and his duty was a guard for the Judges. He did this so he could get a front-row view of the trial, and he wouldn't miss a thing. His force signature would be minged in with all of the other Siths' in the room, so he wouldn't be detected. Everyone would see him as a Blackblade, but in reality, he was a hidden assassin, getting a front-row seat. He didn't intend on causing any trouble, just doing his duty to the Sith as a faithful (disguised) guard. None would be the wiser.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu had been to her fair share of trials, some that genuinely held her interest or ended in bloodshed, and some that bored her to tears. If one wasn’t counting the episode in the Throne Room with Apparine, this would be her first trial with the One Sith and she hoped it would prove to fall in the first category.

There was a giant whale present, so it was moving in the right direction.

She’d found a seat right up in front, close enough to [member="Vrag"] that the taller woman would catch the smile Matsu returned despite it barely changing her expression. She too wore that mask that seemed to amuse her Firrerreo friend. The Atrisian liked ceremony, the ritual presented. Settling in, she waited as the accused made their appearance, her eyes shifting first to her old Master and then to @Reverance. She wasn’t going to break the silence or the pall of judgment that hung in the air.

[member="Darth Carach"]

 

[Via Dolorosa]

Traitor! Traitor! Traitor was the only thought she possessed as she stared at the woman whose life was just a snip away from being no more. She knew nothing of the accused's crime nor did she care. If the decree was passed and she was labeled a traitor to the Sith then death will be her companion, the cold grave their mansion.​

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Darth Venefica glanced about not surprised by the turn out to bear witness to the trial, which she found strangely odd. She believed, especially if the accused had no irrefutable evidence against the claims bestowed upon them, that justice at the hands of the Sith should be swift and absolute. Trials only slowed the process of justice. ​

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Regardless of the judgement against the woman, guilty or innocent, this spectacle would serve as a warning to anyone that dared betray the Order. Fear was such a powerful motivator and only a fool would take uncalculated risks with their life after witnessing such a display. But there were always be fools. ​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Reverance"] [member="Silara"] [member="Darth Carach"]

"As requested, my Lord Wrath, I have brought [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"] before you to stand judgment," Taeli said, bowing her head respectfully at Reverance and the other judges. She didn't agree with any of this, but she made sure her thoughts were well and truly hidden away. There was nothing she could do now, but act her part.

"I first began my plan to capture her when I learned from [member="Darth Praelior"] that Alexandra might have had sensitive information that needed to be retrieved when she left, and I took it upon myself to craft a long plan to capture her," she continued saying, making sure to keep respect and formality present. "It took a great deal of time, effort, and patience to gain even a modicum of her trust. She was naturally suspicious of me, but I was able to play to her sense of decency and eventually she trusted me enough to meet me on Utapau. I sprung my trap there, with Darth Praelior present in case Alexandra resisted, and contacted you, my Lord Wrath immediately. She is all yours to question."

Having said her piece, Taeli took several steps back and stood with her head still bowed slightly and not making eye contact with anyone she knew in the crowd, saving that exclusively for the judges.

 

[Hijinks]

Jink watched in slight alarm as he saw the Gray Lady brought to the defendant's post. He knew that both Darth Praelior and Carliah's friend Taeli had known her decently well, and he himself had never heard anything but the truth from her mouth. What was going on here, and what was she standing trial for? The Escher Warden silently dropped from his vantage point on the ceiling to stand near his Red Queen.

"There's something seriously wrong here, darling. Lady Feanor's no war criminal."

[member="Darth Vivaldi"]

 

[Reverance]

Gabriel nodded to Arcanix, her explanation satisfactory for the point of this current conversation. As Alric had said, she was a loyal member of the One Sith and the Wrath was hardly one to punish Sith for being Sithy. Nevertheless, he would need to formally begin this culmination of consequences...

The congregation was starting to form like a funeral procession, the world growing antsy towards the mystery of the process that would soon be unveiled. In earnest, Gabriel preferred the old testament style of justice that would just see Alexandra's head rolling down the stairs and away from the hallowed grounds of the Temple of the Vahl. Not that he felt her guilty, but she wore the stink of the lightside. But for every attempt he would make, he was re-affirmed in the judicial conundrum that had befallen the One Sith. On one hand, they were a machine of war, focused on conquest and domination. On the other hand, worlds are far easier to subjugate when given the illusion of a righteous organization.

The One Sith was righteous in their own right, but they were far from the sort that cared towards the sniveling and wining of those pushed to bending knee. It was the natural sort of state for them, a place that they not only deserved, but also belonged. As the depressions are formed in the mat by the knees of the monk, always in prayer, so too does the duracrete crumble beneath the weight of once prosperous nations accepting the gravity of the One Sith dominion.

This was no different. Alexandra had found herself deep within the clutches of the One Sith justice system, a side project built for the purposes of distilling Wrath for those who angered The Dark Lord and subsequently, Gabriel, by proxy. Not to say there weren't checks and balances in place, Darth Carach and Silara would be here to balance the scales so quickly spoken of by Darth Arcanix upon Utapau, across worlds in the holovid. And witness testimony, something unmoved by tampering and deletion and meddling, would be provided by those scorned upon the battlefield. That when the One Sith needed prosperity and unity, some decided to detract from that purpose, indifference towards the protection of the One Sith domain and rightful planet. As the court settled, Gabriel unpinned himself from the column and walked slowly forward. The lack of his hood would draw focus to the scar across eye, the defining feature of his visage. Most knew him as Reverance and he would serve as preceding judge for the currently damned.

"Alexandra Lianne Feanor...you stand accused..." He paused, the boom of his voice echoing outward across the backdrop of the mountains, as he searched the group that had collected in this holy place. A place of ascension, even for the likes of this 'grey master.' Especially for her. "Accused of treason against the One Sith and Dark Lord...for actions taken against the protection of Prakith." His hand found itself floating outward, as if to gesticulate the turbidity of the situation, knowing full well that both sides viewed themselves as correct. The only problem: One side was Sith, with the backing of the Dark Lord. His singular crimson eye met the woman pronounced in such dire straights, smiling, as if everything was going to be alright. "How do you plea?" No emotion, no personal invested interest. His blood hue view traced her face, as it lifted to [member="Darth Arcanix"] and [member="Darth Praelior"].

[member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Silara"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darth Isolda"] | [member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Alric Kuhn"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Alexandra Lianne Feanor"]

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

She looked up for a moment at the man and opened her eyes to nod to him and spoke clear and loud. “I plead not guilty to the charges of treason in reference to the events of Prakith.” She said no more until she was allowed to explain herself and defend her words, eyes sliding closed once more as she looked back at the ground and waited for it. Only when she was allowed to speak once more did she react.

 

[Isar]

An Ewok shuffled in.

 

[Ellie Mors]

Temple of Vahl

At long last they had arrived, the peons of the One Sith, those who believed themselves to know of this woman's errs and her faults, those who thought of her as a saint, as an embodiment of justice, she scoffed at both parties. She hated them all. Who stood to be tried and judged was a woman that was first and foremost a traitor, a woman who had been her target since her days as the apprentice to Darth Veles, a secret mission given to her just before he himself betrayed the order - an act that ironically spared the woman her life when opportunity reared its ugly head in the form of a telepathic revelation of the previous temple of Gray on Alderaan years back. She had not yet regretted the decision to leave the woman alone, the mission she had been given then was by a traitor through and through - a traitor that had been her master and yet saw her as nothing. Even still, all those who committed treason in the face of the One Sith would face trial, and if it meant using Alexandra as a threat to those less supportive of the Dark Lord's regime, so be it. Silara, herself, was here to preside over the trial with [member="Reverance"] and [member="Darth Carach"], neither of whom struck her as inherently devoted solely to the cause of the Dark Lord, believing the former to be too lenient and the latter too selfish. She, herself, had fallen out of favor with her Lord, perhaps placed on this panel as a sick joke, a way to personally shame her and remind her what happened to failures.

But it amused her that those who brought forth the charges wished to relay only the events on Prakith as their sole means of condemning her as a traitor when she had a far more wide-reaching thoughts herself. The entirety of this trial was a joke to her, merely used as propaganda to keep those who would otherwise stray from the path in line with the status quo, and such a charade that was. In public the Sith were the "good" people, the liberators, and then beneath that veneer was the united Sith, the One Sith, who formed a small portion of the newly recognized Empire of the One Sith, of the Dark Lord. But even that, too, was but a sham in her eyes, for all of this, all of them, herself included, were pieces on a Dejarek board to be moved and played with by their Voss Master. She could almost pity the ignorant, the masses of them, that believed the One Sith was for achieving unity, for glory, for anything but the goals of their Dark Lord, and even moreso the deluded population that presumed he had intentions less sinister than that of the Dark Lords of the Sith before him. So she sat in silence, waiting for a given reason to speak, and quietly judged the entirety of those in attendance, wondering if any of them had a modicum of understanding in what it meant to be puppeted by such things rather than to be aware and support the vileness, the evils of the dark side. Could she see physically she would have stared directly at her fiance in disapproval for his involvement in this - she already could feel through the force that he would be thrust into this and she would have to keep it from happening. Through the eyes of an onlooker she gave herself sight instead, as she had just days prior on Empress Teta and beyond, to stare at Darth Arcanix in disappointment. In all of this she had failed to realize the dangers of playing with a fire that was carefully watched, much less how to use the cards given to her. But doubtless she was loyal to the One Sith, if not the Dark Lord himself, and she would see to it that she would not face the punishments that she would ensure would occur with the white-haired wench.