Resurgence. (Paecian Empire)

[Malok]

Paecia, Outer Rim Territories​

The wisest of men have said: "Troubled is the head that wears the crown."

For years, the former Emperor of Paecia uttered that saying until it was ingrained in the mind of his successor; yet she did not understand its meaning until now. Sweet naivety had blinded her eyes, and for some time she had deluded herself into thinking that ruling the masses would be easy. How mistaken she had been...Now, that to which she was blind danced before her in plain sight. Now, she was beginning to understand the tribulations that came with wearing the jeweled crown of Paecia.

And she, the White Empress, would endure them all.

The man before her was exceptional, of this there was no doubt. However, he had become infected by a disease that had settled within the Imperial Court. Complacency. The essence of Sloth itself settled into the Emperor's bones and prompted him to do the most atrocious crime of all: Nothing. He, ruler of what remained of the glorious Paecian Empire, whittled away his last years without taking a single step towards reclaiming his birthright. The Galaxy was his to conquer and his to rule...yet he sat on his hands and did nothing. So too did his generals. So too did his advisers. So too did everyone...

When the day of his passing came, the crown was then set upon the White Empress' head. All eyes were placed upon her, and the expectation was that the trend would continue. Yes, the Court anticipated some bold ideas and perhaps a mobilization here or there; but their complacency had slain their ambition. The Galaxy around them was in Chaos: the timing was right for resurgence...and that was what the White Empress pushed for. She shattered the expectations of her Court and readied her people.

The Paecian Empire would reclaim its birthright.

However, that devil of Complacency reared its ugly head. It stirred within the hearts of those her sire had trusted the most and caused them to move against her. Gentle chiding and attempts at dissuading the Empress' ambitions quickly turned into dissension. While smiles were worn whilst the Sun was high, schemes took place in the shadows. Only whispers of dissent reached Her Majesty's ears, but that was enough to guide her hand. Treachery would never be tolerated, and the Court reeked of it.

Troubled is the Head that wears the Crown.

To remedy the virus of Complacency, the White Empress was forced to act with the same guile as her Court. Ignorance was feigned, but a single plan was put into motion. The upper echelon of Paecia was now corrupt, and so a new generation would need to be forged; one befitting the goals of its monarch's aspirations. As opposed to turning to the "perfectly" groomed younglings of her treacherous Court, the White Empress set her eyes upon the Galaxy she sought to rule. Thus, she boldly proclaimed to the stars that Paecia had returned. By Force and By Net, her summons went rippling out into the heavens.

The White Empress sought those who hungered for power and lived by ambition. She invited them to her realm and showed them the way to the world that was thought lost. To the Outer Rim, her call beckoned, where a reception awaited those who came. The Great Hall of Castle Albast was adorned with its finest luxuries: a veritable feast prepared for the "new generation." Yet this was but a prelude, for greater things were in store for those who arrived. The seed of corruption would need to be snuffed out.

And only the Champions of Paecia could achieve this task.

Adorned in gems and draped in alabaster, the White Empress waited. Seated upon a troubled throne, her gaze was set forward towards the towering doors. The arrivals would be escorted from landing to the Hall, where they would be welcomed with open arms by the monarch herself. They were free to make merry and meet their fellows; but soon the real fun would begin.


[member="Ailyn Cyar'ika"] | [member="Arctica"] | [member="Count Morcus"] | [member="Darth Kentarch"] | [member="Darth Praetorias"] | [member="Horde Mother Kyriss"] | [member="IT-0001 Brutus"] | [member="Jarek Deram"] | [member="Kit "]| [member="Kitsune"] | [member="Lilith Engelis"] | [member="Lisa Ticon"] | [member="Meric Nadun"] | [member="Odysseus"] | [member="Shadowheart"] | [member="Slade Zambrano"] | [member="Syn Zimadir"] | [member="Ta'ra Kenja"] | [member="The Devourer"] | [member="Tyuk Asha"] | [member="Vladkione Dawnpierce"]

 

[Vladkione Dawnpierce]

Awakened at last. Eyes open to see the new age of where things had gone wrong and disappointment. The first thing the ancient felt was disgust and the long-time sense of betrayal aching in his mind and throughout his formerly inactive body. He was unsealed from his tomb by a rather peculiar group of people, people insisting that he go with him for a "calling" of some sort. Vladkione had little say or choice in the matter as he was already being rushed and hassled into a shuttle headed for a destination unknown. Silence loomed over all within the vessel, and he sat still fully armored from the day he was frozen away by treachery incarnate. Wherever the ancient Sith was headed, he still kept his wits about him and all the caution that came with being awakened by an unknown party.

His connection with the Force was dampened severely due to his long sentence, but that wouldn't stop him from lashing out if the need were to ever surface. This all depended on who he was about to meet, assuming that this was a retrieval for his execution since stasis didn't seem to do the job. Within a short span of time, they had arrived at a city unlike what Vladkione had seen in his era. A banner with a foreign symbol that perplexed him as it passed by the porthole, things had definitely changed. The rest of the galaxy was a mystery for the time being, yet to be rediscovered.

Soon the shuttle had touched down on a landing pad, and once more, the ancient was practically guided by the hand. A massive set of doors beset his eyes, and suddenly he found himself traversing a hall that complimented the size of the aforementioned doors. Guards walked on either side of Vladkione, directing him towards what looked to be a throne. And atop said throne sat a woman of great mystery, looking to be waiting for someone or something. Was this the calling he had been unsealed for? His expression changed from blank to one of more sincerity beneath his helmet.

"And is it you I should be thanking for freeing me?"

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Shadowheart]

Ailyn Cyar'ika | Arctica | Count Morcus | Darth Kentarch | Darth Praetorias | Horde Mother Kyriss | IT-0001 Brutus | Jarek Deram | Kit | Kitsune | Lilith Engelis | Lisa Ticon | Meric Nadun | Odysseus | Shadowheart | Slade Zambrano | Syn Zimadir | Ta'ra Kenja | The Devourer | Tyuk Asha | Vladkione Dawnpierce



Shadowheart stood attentive next to the aunt of the Empress, guarding her with his life so to speak. He cared not for the Empress's wants, or desires, he was loyal to her aunt as she was the one who brought him to this place, and gave him purpose for living. He no longer killed for no reason, but killed for honor, and glory.
His helmet masked his face, and is robes hid his body. Only a tall, and dark figure could be observed from the eyes of the others.

"Do you think this will come to war, Shadowheart?" She asked him. "M'lady, war comes, and goes. If it comes, I will be at your side." He spoke softly with a tone too cold to be warmed back up to what it may have been.
"I am glad to know I have you by myself." Shadowheart bowed his head. "Thank you, M'lady." He was he hound to sick upon her enemies.

 

[Kit]

Kit had been sitting on one of the window frames. He watched as his comrades moved to and from. Out of all of his comrades he was the least menacing. At least that wasn't when he was on a blood lust for force energy. He had sighed. Although he did play pranks on most of the maids and other droids everything started to get dull. There was seemingly nothing to do and, of course it bothered him.

Kit wasn't exactly trusted to see the Empress. People would think of the worst and keep him away. It was more of a safety precaution then anything else. He hoped to at least talk to someone instead of just sitting there.

The guy simply groaned and looked around. Now trying to find something better to do.

@Ailyn Cyar'ika | @Arctica | @Count Morcus | @Darth Kentarch | @Darth Praetorias | @Horde Mother Kyriss | @IT-0001 Brutus | @Jarek Deram | @Kitsune | @Lilith Engelis | @Lisa Ticon | @Meric Nadun | @Odysseus | @Shadowheart | @Slade Zambrano | @Syn Zimadir | @Ta'ra Kenja | @The Devourer | @Tyuk Asha | @Vladkione Dawnpierce

 

[Taa Nul]

The Count had heard word of the White Empress's intent to restore the Paecian Empire to it's former glory. He had been a supporter of it's efforts before his exile from his former homeworld of Serenno, and desired nothing more than to see his former ally arise from the ashes. He had arrived in orbit above Paecia in a large Lucrehulk-class Battleship, flanked by two unmarked Star Destroyers, a show of his power and extravagance. He intended to make a name for himself as soon as he met with the Empress, who he'd arranged a personal audience with. Descending to the planet surface below in a shuttle flanked by two Vulture-droid escorts, his arrival was met by a small procession he had organized.

As his shuttle landed in the main docking bay of the Paecian Royal Palace, it would be met by the full number of his personal bodyguard unit, the Morcusian Steel Legion. Around fifty IG-100 Magnaguards, split into two organized ranks on both sides of the boarding ramp, stood to attention as said ramp lowered. The Count slowly descended the ramp, his long white cape dragging behind him. He'd be garbed in in attire styled with a very Imperial theme, like the white Grand Admiral uniforms of the old Empire, with an elegant golden lightfoil attached to his regal belt. He'd be followed by a group of various advisers, diplomats, businessmen and....former high-ranking officers of the now defunct New Order? Their uniforms clearly stated as much. Count Morcus had something interesting planned, to say the least.

The large group was soon escorted into the royal throne room by the Paecian Royal Guard, and as the large doors of the throne room opened, his arrival would be announced by the royal herald and a chorus of trumpet-players playing the former Imperial anthem. ''My Empress, the esteemed Count Veril Morcus of Serenno, joined by dignitaries from the ACA and the remnants of the former New Order have arrived.''

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-bzWSJG93P8

@Ailyn Cyar'ika | @Arctica | @Count Morcus | @Darth Kentarch | @Darth Praetorias | @Horde Mother Kyriss | @IT-0001 Brutus | @Jarek Deram | @Kitsune | @Lilith Engelis | @Lisa Ticon | @Meric Nadun | @Odysseus | @Shadowheart | @Slade Zambrano | @Syn Zimadir | @Ta'ra Kenja | @The Devourer | @Tyuk Asha | @Vladkione Dawnpierce |

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

[A message has arrived for you, sir.]

FiGi had them in hyperspace, so he'd received the message by hyperspace transceiver no doubt. Punching up the console, he read the message with a small amount of curiosity. Under normal circumstances, a summons such as this one would go ignored by him. What use did he have for being summoned by a so called leader of a so called government? This wasn't even a widely recognized group of individuals. This was some puppet government that had been hiding in the shadows for ages. Why should he answer a summons?

Then the thought occurred to him that this was more than a summons, it was an opportunity. An opportunity to find a large, powerful group of individuals that desired the downfall of galactic tyranny and disorder. These were a group of people that he could mold into fighting injustice. This government might be ancient or it might not, but it existed and therefore he could make use of it from within.

"FiGi, bring us out of hyperspace. Set course for this world known as Paecia. I have some business I must see to there."

[Yes, sir.]

The droid did as instructed and some time later they arrived at the world of Paecia. Not the most hideous of worlds that he'd ever seen. Still, here lay injustice that needed to be settled. Someone wanted to take the throne for themselves, and in so doing they would wipe out countless innocents who sought nothing but to be left to their tasks and meaningless lives. This was something he could not stand for, and was yet another reason for him to answer the summons that he'd received. The Harrow settled down on a landing platform and he departed for the palace.

An escort was soon offered to him but he paid them no mind as he strode along. No escort was needed for the one sometimes known as Silence. He could handle himself. Into the throne room he went, only a slightly civil glance offered to the various dark entities as he approached the Empress. When he was sufficiently close, capable of seeing every curve of her form, and each pore in her skin, he stopped and offered a formal bow.

"White Empress I am Sith Lord Meric Nadun, sometimes called Silence. I am here to assist you."

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Malok]

Caution.

If any word could be utilized to characterize the daily life of Darth Metus, it would be caution. So many in the Galaxy sought to have his head mounted as a trophy that he had to exercise great care in keeping it attached to his body. For one thing, he tended not to travel via the more populated hyperlanes; but instead took the "back roads" as often as possible. Whilst this trend often brought him closer to "backwater" worlds than he had ever been comfortable, it did prevent him from being exposed to the foreign patrols and hunters that were eager for his demise.

The present was one such day, for a business venture had seen it necessary for him to travel to the Outer Rim. Due to his proximity to the former Confederacy, the Sith Lord exercised extreme caution whilst proceeding about. Originally he had intended to make this trip as swift as possible, for at least he would be a touch more secure back "home." However, as his vessel sliced through the depths of Hyperspace, Metus was alerted by a transmission that blared across the local channels. It was rare for such a happening to occur way out by the edge of the Galaxy, and as such curiosity saw to his listening.

A call...an opportunity...

"Now this may prove interesting." he began, addessing the trio of passengers present in his vessel. "We may have an immense opportunity here...so let us see this so-called Paecia." With that said, the Sith Lord adjusted his heading and set a course straight for the heart of the returning Empire. Upon arrival, the Mie'yebo dropped out of Hyperspace with little fanfare. The planetary authorities promptly directed the ship down to an appointed landing pad; and Darth Metus promptly landed the vessel.

Turning in his seat, the hooded Sith Lord settled his gaze upon the two who had accompanied him. A child, a Zabrak, and a survivor of the former Sith Empire. All three were his to instruct and to protect...and bringing them here could potentially spell danger. "Ailyn. Lilith. Tyuk. Stay close at all times. We have no idea what we are dealing with here..." he said, before getting the "genius" idea to incorporate an extra measure of security for his apprentices. With but a flourish of his dominant hand, the Sith commanded the Dark Side of the Force.

It's presence crashed down upon him and consumed the negavitity of his very essence as fuel, driving the Magick that Darth Metus wrought. An incantation was uttered in a tongue long-lost, resulting in a billowing pillar of darkness to manifest before him. For a moment it was but a formless tower of the Dark Side, but soon it began to take form. [member="The Devourer"] had been summoned. "Rise." he commanded. "Rise and do my will. These three shall be your charge...for now...see to it that no harm comes to them whilst I investigate this summons."

With that said, the Sith Lord rose from his seat and lead the way down from the vessel. He, like all the others who had heard the call, was given an escort to usher him to the Grand Hall. An initial glance of the space impressed the Sith quite a bit for extravagance was thoroughly present. In fact, a feast was laid out for the indulgence of all; and Darth Metus made a mental note to grab a bite before departing. However, his goal was an audience with she who had made the call.

Seated upon a throne was the Empress, draped in White. When those addressing her concluded their introductions, the Sith Lord took the opportunity to approach. Long, confident strides bore him along until he halted only a few feet away from the shining monarch. A formal bow was rendered, for Metus was not one to offend foreign hosts, before an introduction escaped his lips. "Your Grace." he began, "I humbly thank you for this invitation. I am Darth Metus, and these are my pupils. Your summons has been heard, and I gladly answer." With that said, the Sith Lord righted himself and awaited the response of the monarch. Of course, he gave the trio a telepathic nudge; for they would need to introduce themselves properly after all.

[member="Lilith Engelis"] | [member="Ailyn Cyar'ika"] | [member="The Devourer"] | [member="Tyuk Asha"]

 

[Thalia Sigismund]

Music: Dead Can Dance, Host of the Seraphim

As the ancient incantations of the Dwomutsiqa were spoken by the Sith Lord Darth Metus, a spiral of black smoke suddenly appeared out of the ether, swirling and writhing, and slowly taking on a terrifying shape, a visage of pure black smoke with a monstrous corporeal form, and a face twisted with pure malice. Hateful yellow eyes pierced through her whirling mask, to look down upon any wretched things unlucky enough to be designated as her victim. The Devourer, daugher of smoke and ash, the embodiment of Dark Side Force power manifested herself on the earthly plane in order to serve the Sith Master she was linked to by stygian ritual. The Siqsa undulated near Darth Metus, waiting, hungering. As she was given her orders, her face moved slowly to look to the charges that she was commanded to protect. She could not speak aloud as most beings did. Instead her voice would slither into the consciousness of those she wished to communicate with. For now only Darth Metus would hear her words inside his head, So be it, Master, she would hiss.

The Devourer floated along beside her charges, following closely behind Darth Metus and his pupils. Merely her presence would be enough to make most cower. Especially if those knew what she was capable of. Transforming her physical form into a victim's greatest fear and then vaporizing the body as she feasted on the soul. The Siqsa hungered with the emptiness of a thousand barren planets. Until she could get her fill, The Devourer simply waited. She could wait for eternity.

[member="Darth Metus"] [member="Lilith Engelis"] [member="Ailyn Cyar'ika"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Certain circles were tread often, mostly from habit born a long time in the past. While he had abandoned Naboo as his home when word got to him of an impending attack, along with his resettlement after the fall of the Confederacy, he hadn’t severed his connections. Idle lords who had ties in other governments, which often led to events best not missed, thus his presence. He’d come as a ‘friend’ to one such useful connection, a ruse as being someone to keep him from being bored. However the idiot left him high and dry, but he still had the means to go alone which suited him just fine.

The sea of swirling colors, flashing jewels and other finery fair dazzled the eye. One could easily see the wolves among the sheep, so easily some of those around them failed to mark others that could cut their indolent lives short. Some of the local nobility seemed rather overdressed in comparison to others, including himself. He’d given to the need to dress fitting the part, but not so much that he was weighed down to the point of foppishness. In the end he saw the wisdom his servant had given, he would have been very odd dressed as somberly as he had wanted. However he wasn’t sure he’d liked her taste, but it was much too late to go back.

What he didn’t notice was that it made his lit ruby eyes stand out. He was much too preoccupied with the conversations and people around him to care about the glances he got. So then… He wondered to himself what games are being played by this little fete. The undercurrent of darkness to the seeming merriment almost makes me believe sharks swim about instead of idiot prey.

However true ability and perhaps power wasn’t simply in the form of a crown. The woman sitting above them all had the look of someone who understood, its price and the weight. Whether it be borne of the Force or in authority, those who didn’t see the cost never tasted its truth.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Kentarch's eyes slit open. The Sith Lord awoke suddenly as if startled by something. His arms and hands having a slight tremble to them. It only took him a second to regain his composure. There was no denying it, he was broken and defeated, cast aside with the sting of failure lingering in the back of his mind. Part of him still doubted himself, he wondered and entertained the idea that he should have died at Drunkenwell. The wounds may have healed but the mind was not always as resilient. No. He pushed those thoughts aside. To add insult to injury, he was now an exile. Chased from his homeland by a group of Rogue Jedi in the name of some Reformation. With no tolerance to Sith, Kentarch left everything behind. He may be a Sith, But he was always a man. And man can never be defeated, only destroyed. In a final act of defiance he survived to live and push on. Perhaps there was a victory in that fact.


Paecia was a reflection of himself. A long lost power forced to live out in obscurity in the edges of Wild Space. And Just like Kentarch, the planet in essence refused to accept it's fate. The call had been made by the new empress, the white figure calling the worthy. Darth Kentarch heeded this call, a chance at redemption to lead this new generation. One last shot at glory. The doors to throne room swung open. The figure that was the Lord of Guile, clad in a black cloak with the hood drawn to hide his face, made his way across the great hall with a strong pace. Finally before coming to close to throne, Kentarch stopped and gave a bow. He said nothing. For now he would wait. Many other figures of varying power and status had arrived for an audience, and many formal introductions would be needed. Not shifting his gaze from the throne or the White Empress, nor stopping to introduce himself to the others who had come to this gathering. For now he awaited an audience.

[member="Spirit of the Empire"].

 

[Vesphira So'Kil]

Ineffective. Pointless. Yet deemed of worth...~



This diversion only fueled her annoyance at being here, fueled the insanity that dwelt deep within this woman's mind. Images began playing in her mind; re-telling the tale of how her fall into insanity had occurred. A typical daily occurrence on her part. Snapping out of her mental reverie just in time to hear Darth Metus's words, she would give a simple incline of her head, signaling that she in-fact had heard all he had to say.


Keeping silent; She would watch, wait, and follow the one she had gone against her very emotional foundation to tag along with under the guise of being 'taught'. It wasn't long before she made her way after him, following close behind. Glancing around, she cataloged everything around them, her brow arching the second Metus's "Pet"came into being. Glancing backwards from the corner of her eye, she would keep her normal stoic mask in place; neither questioning nor caring. As far as she was concerned, she went where her teacher went thus was the way of things.


Coming to the grand hall where the empress appeared to be seated, she would glance around quickly taking in the sight of those gathered. It was then that she lowered herself into a graceful yet feminine bow.

"My Lady," Speaking softly, she started, keeping her gaze adverted out of respect. "Allow me to offer up my humble Introduction, I am Lilith Engelis, Pupil to Darth Metus."

Introductions given, it wasn't long after that she would rise in one fluent motion awaiting the next course of actions given by any around.




[member="Darth Metus"] [member="The Devourer"] [member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Malok]

Patience.

That was one of the many tenets that the old monarch had personally instilled within his successor. Through patience, a ruler could see the undoing of her foes. Through patience, a young Empress could see the fulfillment of her Call. As the minutes rolled by, churning into hours, she did not waver in the slightest. She knew the realities of travel and trusted that her call would be answered.

And it was.

Accompanied by a melodious fanfare, the towering doors of the Hall opened. A thunderous creak characterized their movements before brisk footsteps echoed upon the polished floors. At once, the interest of the Empress was piqued, prompting her to lean slightly forward in her throne; for her Champions had finally arrived. The first of the host was [member="Vladkione Dawnpierce"]: an ancient to say the very least; and the Empress knew full well of his particular arrival. Her subjects had been sent forth to see this one returned to the light of the living, and they had succeeded tremendously.

"Indeed." came the silken voice of the Empress. "It was I who gave the command to see you liberated. I bid you welcome to the world of the living. Come, enjoy the bounty that I have prepared in honor of your arrival."

No sooner had the words escaped from the Empress' lips that another arrival had made their presence known. Heralded by the Imperial fanfare was [member="Count Morcus"] and his assembly of foreign dignitaries. In this moment, fortune smiled down upon the monarch, for she had taken it upon herself to learn of the nations of recent history. As such, there was no end to her satisfaction: knowing that foreign nations, perhaps, would assist Paecia's restoration. When the procession of Droids and dignitaries came to a halt, the Empress first acknowledged their presence with a brief descension of her brow.

"I bid you all a warm welcome to Paecia!" she said, speaking with a louder tone to ensure that the assembly could hear. "I am sure that travel has brought weariness to your bones, so please, enjoy the fruits of my home. And you, Count Morcus of Serenno, may approach my throne. I wish to hear more of the noble who has graced my Hall with such a procession."

Of course, the presence of so many automatons did not elude the notice of the monarch, or her staunch defenders. While the Empress held her peace, there was a justifiable tension that swept across the host of guards posted about. After all, it was not everyday that a battalion of Droids strolled into the Great Hall. However, what soon arrived at Castle Albast did manage to arouse a physical response from the White Empress. She could literally feel their Darkness from afar. She could practically taste the might which radiated from them. A small twinge of satisfaction manifested itself upon her lips as the Sith Lords arrived.

The first was a man who left his escort in the dust, and as such no fanfare was given. However, the very nature of the Sith was such that he didn't need one. Silence suited him just as well as the Dark Side. Upon rendering his bow of greeting, the Empress returned the courtesy with a respectful nod of her own. "I bid you welcome Lord [member="Meric Nadun"]. In this time of chaos and change, your assistance is most welcome."

Shortly thereafter, yet another master of the Darkness entered into the Great Hall. Accompanied by a quartet, one of which being...an apparition of some sort...he soon came to a halt before her throne. "You are most welcome, [member="Darth Metus"]. I welcome you and your fellows to Paecia and thank you for answering my Call." From here, the Empress settled her gaze upon [member="Lilith Engelis"], who lowered herself into a polite bow. Once more the monarch returned the courtesy before saying: "I bid you welcome, Lilith Engelis. I hope you find your stay in Paecia enjoyable."

Finally, another yet another graced her throne with his presence...Yet unlike the others, he did not utter an introduction. While monarchs born of pettier stock would have found this an affront, the Empress viewed this with curiosity. Obviously this man wielded power and had heard her Call like the others...and as such, he deserved an opportunity before her throne. "Welcome to Castle Albast." she began, "You may approach. Come and tell me of your travel."

Now, the "true" fun began.

The White Empress settled comfortably into her throne before allowing a content breath to escape her lips. As the sounds of merriment and conversation echoed about, she brought focus to the forefront of her mind. The Force, the enigmatic power that characterized so many standing within the Hall, fell upon her shoulders mightily. With but a whim she commanded this power, allowing her to speak without so much as moving her lips. Her voice echoed into the minds of her guests; both those who had spoken, and those scattered about the Hall.

"I offer my thanks to each of you for hearkening to my Call. There is so much that could be said...but the time I possess is not sufficient. I called for Champions; for men and women who would see Paecia restored to its former glory. I called for those of might who would see great power become theirs...and you brave souls have answered.

However, before reclamation can occur across the stars, there are matters of home that must be attended to. Paecia is infected. Sick with the virus of complacency. Once there was a burning desire to see the Empire restored, yet now...now the nobles of my Court as too satisfied with their wealth and power to risk stepping out of their holes. Now, my own kinsmen rally in opposition; choosing regicide over a chance at reclaiming our birthright.

So now that you have come, my champions, let us see that Paecia is returned to her former glory. Let us see those who would opposed our ascension cut down like the vermin they are!"

As the Empress concluded her words, she utilized the Force in such a manner that those to whom she spoke could see. She showed them who, without so much as moving from her throne, had rallied against her so boldy. From certain guardsmen to nobles seated at the tables. From their consorts to their servants. All were revealed by the images shared through the Force. Then, as the supporters were unveiled, the White Empress identified the head of the serpent: her very own aunt.

"Spill their blood in my name...Yet leave this one alive. She, the snake who poisoned my people, is mine."

[member="Serian Loria"] | [member="Kit"] | [member="IT-0001 Brutus"], [member="Marker"] | [member="Ailyn Cyar'ika"] | [member="Arctica"] | [member="Count Morcus"] | [member="Darth Kentarch"] | [member="Darth Praetorias"] | [member="Horde Mother Kyriss"] | [member="IT-0001 Brutus"] | [member="Jarek Deram"] | [member="Kitsune"] | [member="Lilith Engelis"] | [member="Lisa Ticon"] | [member="Meric Nadun"] | [member="Odysseus"] | [member="Shadowheart"] | [member="Slade Zambrano"] | [member="Syn Zimadir"] | @Ta'ra Kenja | [member="The Devourer"] | [member="Tyuk Asha"] | [member="Vladkione Dawnpierce"]

 

[Taa Nul]

The Count proceeded towards the throne upon the request of the White Empress, he soon stood before her, bowing politely to her. ''T'is an honor to make your acquaintance at last, mi'lady.....I come before you today to offer you my services, and many ''thoughtful'' gifts.......'', he said with a smile, beckoning a pair of Imperial Officers who'd accompanied him over. ''You've likely heard of the New Order, yes? Although they've dissolved ''officially'', much of their former military and fleets still remain in the galaxy........when their Empire fell to the Mandalorians, I took the opportunity to ''sway'' a large chunk of said military and fleets to serve me in return for fair payment. They've been rebuilding on the edges of the Outer Rim, and now......'', the Count was half-way through his sentence before the two officers suddenly dropped to a kneeling position before the Empress. ''.....I give them to you, a mighty force to bring about the dominion of the Paecian Empire upon the pretender rulers and governments that question your might. I ask for nothing in return, save the right to serve and aid you however I can, my lady....'', the Count said, kneeling humbly before her. He silently obeyed the order of the Empress, signalling the envoys he had brought with him to stand beside the throne to avoid any....accidental deaths.

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Serian Loria]

One moment gaiety, the next a call for blood. Far too many stood like fowl in the rain, open mouthed and stupid, a few smart ones were trying to make their escape. Meaningless slaughter turned his stomach, but by the end of it far too much blood would stain the marble. This wasn’t going to turn ugly for the Empress’s enemies, anyone with a grudge would take this as an opportunity. She basically gave licence to letting even the smallest of insults be the catalyst for murder. The worst part, he would have to take lives himself simply to deter people from trying to make him their target.

He moved to the back carefully, the mad dash to the doors would be a hazard all to themselves. He would leave the killing to those with a desire to prove themselves, he however had no interest. He’d defend himself, but murder for the sake of it had never appealed to him. In a way it was a blessing that his would be host was missing this particular party, it would probably have cost him his life.

Someone took note of his passage and moved to get in his way. All the man had was a knife gleaned from his plate, but it made mark that the madness was already catching. He Sensed a hunger to prove himself, but he made the mistake of choosing the wrong mark to try and bring glory to himself. He had a choice, let the man live or simply kill him. Unfortunately he wasn’t feeling too merciful and eyes watching the crowd would see an arc of lightning snap between them, lighting up that one spot. It broke the silence like lightning did to herald a storm, people scattered around them as the now smoking corpse hit the ground.

He turned to see if others had similar ideas, his lit ruby gaze meeting the gaze of the Empress [member="Spirit of the Empire"] . She’d see the glittering of his lit ruby eyes, before he stalked to the back to take a better defensible position for the massacre that was sure to follow. He placed that death firmly at her feet, that is what she’d see in his eyes, along with anyone else who’d looked at him.

 

[Lok Xiangu]

Late he was to Empress' invitation, but it was better late than never. And it seemed to rude to not heed the call than being a tad tardy to this historical and important event of Paecia. Never had he heard of this uncharted world in the Outer Rim. Never, but today after receiving an invitation that didn't seem to be for just anyone he had heard about this Paecia and this White Empress. An invitation that he happily would come, since he could strive for power and hook up with some influential people at this fiasco.

"My apologies of arriving late, your Majesty," he announced and apologizing at the monarch who had covered himself in expensive jewels and clothing. She was owning the spotlight like always since she was the ruler of this very, unique, particular planet in this Universe. He walked towards to close the distance between him and this monarch andtook quick glances of those who were participating this event.

A bow of respect would be given to the Empress as he was just a stranger entering the home of a dazzling host. "Better late than never."

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Kyla Foy]

It had been a few days after the war. She had been taken away and taken care for by Darth Metus or also known as Isley Verd. She was being protected heavily and fed up back to her average weak state, only to be trained later on in a warrior of multiple factions. She was not the only child under the wing of the Sith Lord, she was with two others. The mission that was ahead, she didn't get much information about it since it was not for her to execute. She only had to observe and learn from the things which were happening.

She was told to stay close to him at all times and listen to his instructions when given. The girl still was in a phase of fear, her fear from the war, her trauma had not disappeared and might've still taken a pretty long time till it would've been completely gone. Her master used the Dark side of the force to call a dark creature to his will and she listened to him bowing before the creature, "Take good care of me.." Her voice was slightly nervous but at least she listened.

When they came near the empress the young girl bowed in a female noble like fashion bending her knees, but after that she hid at an instant behind Metus again. She didn't seem to dare to talk.

[member="The Devourer"][member="Darth Metus"][member="Spirit of the Empire"]

 

[Soldiers By Kage]

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]

Finally.

The ending of the speech sent something far more terrible in motion. The Imperial Troopers, all dressed in dark armor, were waiting for it. They had their orders, given from the Empress herself to lay and wait, and upon her words to mark targets and take them out. Marker headed this operation, a hand firmly gripping the six shot basic slug thrower he had. At a close range, he was always better with a pistol. Waiting from the shadows had its level of boredom, and he was far from the only one of his brothers to become restless as more and more people showed up.

But that was a thing of the past now. With swift execution he and the others came out from the pillars they were behind, from out of the doorways they waited, from a top the balcony they hid behind. Guns all pointed at the assembly, rifles, pistols, shot guns. Twenty of the elite Imperial Troopers stood ready to kill everyone in the room, but they did not yet.

Amidst the confusion of [member="Serian Loria"] frying the man, one could think they were there to arrest him, or worse. But they remained stoic, they're faceless masks staring into the room. Frightened guests would hold their hands up, waiting for something. anything to be said by these armed intruders.

But nothing came. Eventually, one of the marked men stepped up, barking at the troopers. He believed himself able to order them around.

"You will lower your guns now! I'm not sure what this is about, but you will not be allowed to be so hostile to guests any lon-" his voice was cut short as a slug hurried itself into his gaping hole of a mouth. His cheek blew apart, along with part of the side of his head, and he fell to the ground, not dead, but screaming.

Market, with a smoking pistol in his hand, stepped forward. His voice rang out behind his helmet, speaking to all those within the room. "This man has plotted against the Empress." He pointed his gun down to his head. "To over throw her and undermine her at every turn he could." The pistol went off. And the whimpering mans head earned another hole within the cranium. "And this is how we deal with those who plot against our Empress." On those words the room came to life with gun fire, most of the marked targets finding themselves filled with the blasters and slugs. Bodies fell quickly, yet none of the Imperial Troops took pleasure in this. But they did not feel remorse either. This was what the Empress instructed them to do, and they were not told to feel.

 

[Taa Nul]

Sensing the moment the Empress had informed him of was nigh, the Count pressed a few buttons on his wrist-mounted datapad, signalling for ''reinforcements'' as it were, prepared for this very possibility. He'd figured the Empress wouldn't just gather all of her possible allies and rivals in one place without having something......violent planned. Suddenly, the glass ceiling windows of the great hall shattered as a group of eight Magnaguards, assembled from the Count's personal bodyguard, dropped in through said glass into the hall below, suddenly assisting in the massacre being carried out by the Empress's Stormtroopers. Bodies fell to the ground and blood covered the floors as they carried out their gruesome extermination.

One brave fool of a guest, wanting to go out in glory, drew a hidden blaster and suddenly charged the Imperial throne, attempting to assassinate the Empress. Sensing the impending danger, the Count suddenly span around to face him before unleashing a torrent of Force Lightning upon the man. His charred, smoking corpse soon dropped to the floor. ''Brave.....yet foolish.'', the Count said with an evil smirk. Oh, how he'd missed occasions like this back on Serenno. He'd carried out the same method himself once before, annihilating most of his rivals in one swift stroke. He briefly turned back to speak to the Empress. ''I shan't be a moment, mi'lady....'', he said before removing and tossing aside his long cloak and drawing his lightfoil hilt before igniting it and force jumping into the carnage, skillfully slashing away at any who'd survived the initial torrent of gunfire alongside his droids.

[member="Spirit of the Empire"]
[member="Marker"]

 

[Kamon Vondiranach]

Meric simply nodded his head. While others were busy cleansing those in the very room, he chose not to. They killed, slaughtering those that stood against the Empress, but he removed himself, stepping out into the city beyond. Pulling out a communicator, he activated two probe droids which he sent in search of some of those that he'd been shown by the Empress. In this case, however, he wasn't looking for the lowlifes, or those that would pretend to be supportive when they weren't. The lesser of those that had come calling could search those out and destroy them.

No, the one he sent his droids to look for was none other than the chief of them all. The head of the snake was his target. Why would he target the head when there was fun to be had killing the rabble? Because Meric didn't believe in needless bloodshed and destruction. All out war on these people would see many innocents killed. Children with no families. Husbands without wives. Mothers with no children. That was unacceptable. That was barbarism. He was above the petty and foolishness of the One Sith. He only killed when there was a clear, distinct reason for it. This was not such a time.

"Find her. I'll do the rest."

He stood at the entrance to the palace as the droids moved out into the city. She was there somewhere, he had no doubt about that fact. No, her forces were arrayed to strike, to make their move. The Empress calling upon them was timely. Had she waited any longer she would certainly be dead and Paecia would continue to be nothing more than a simple world in the dark of space, long forgotten. Meric didn't care for it becoming well known, but he did care about the innocents.

Down into the city proper he went. The command unit was returned to where he'd gotten it, as the droids would alert him when they found their target. He walked slowly down the streets, feeling out around him with the Force as he moved from one street to the next. So much precious life here. He absorbed the feelings it brought to him, felt the fear and pain and anger that washed all the way out into the city from the palace where people were being slaughtered for their lack of fealty to the true Empress of Paecia. A deep breath passed through him as he felt them moving towards him from every direction at once. They should have known better, but they weren't smart. They were just grunts.

They attacked him with blasters, but their bolts did nothing. They slammed into an invisible barrier around him as he stood there and turned his gaze to look at each of them in turn.

"Tell me where she is and I won't destroy you all."

None of them spoke up. A thermal detonator was thrown in his direction. He redirected it with the Force and it splattered the guts of one of them all over the walls. Holding his arms out to his sides, he gripped the hearts of two more through the Force and literally crushed them. They fell to the ground in a heap. Now there were only three of them left. One of them charged at him, and Meric smashed his face in with a Force enhanced punch before turning and blasting another one with such a potent blast of the darkside that it melted his flesh and he fell to the ground a charred body.

"You have on chance. Tell me, and live."

But the last one wasn't having any of it. He turned and started to run away. Meric grabbed him with the Force and pulled the man back towards him with such ferocity that he was able to literally punch his hand through the mans back and out his chest. The man was still alive, and Meric peered into his mind, but he found nothing of what he was looking for. This one didn't know. He tossed the body aside and started walking again, only to have the scanner on his belt beep. He drew it out and confirmed and then looked around him to get his bearings.

Then he winked out of existence.

 

[Shadowheart]

[member="Meric Nadun"]

Shadowheart stayed by the true ruler, his lightsaber extended in front of him, and watched as people came in to hurt her.
"Kill the Shadowheart, let them know, I have the stronger ally." the aunt spoke in his mind.
Shadowheart shot forward with his saber going into the first to confront him, killing the man in an instant, but it didnt stop the others from coming at him with their own. Red sabers clashed, and sparks flew as Shadowheart, ducked, and weaved, blocked, and countered the group growing, at fist it was just three, then two more came in, then another one. Six in all? This was it?
Shadowheart feinted an attack, and twirled around the first man, sending his saber into his back, and out his chest. Quickly he pulled it out to block the next two coming at him. With a swift kick, to push one off, Shadowheart slammed his head into the nose of the other, crushing it, and spilling blood on his helmet. "I am the darkness of Paecian!" He roared out as he gripped the man by the adam's apple, and ripped it out with sheer power.
The one he kicked away came back, with two more, slashing, and dicing, Shadowheart began to use a fast style, making it hard for the men to block him, till he eventually started to cut them into pieces. Two more remained after him, and man known as Shadowheart was upon them to quickly for them to react. His saber came in a single swiping motion, cutting off both their heads.