Eternal Father
The fleet was moored above the Malsheem, hundreds of dagger-shaped warships all arranged in neat symmetrical rows. Screeching starfighters, in pairs or in threes, soared between the lumbering destroyers on programmed patrol paths. Within the Malsheem, the final ships were being prepared. The last had just moved from the assembly yard, and was being boarded by the strand-cast crew, all genetically engineered men and women. They would live their entire life upon the vessel chosen for them, and would most likely die upon it as well. Few strand-casts lived more than a handful of years, they were considered substantially more sacrificial than natural-born crew, and many had embraced a manner of devoted fatalism to their allotted destiny.
Darth Carnifex watched the fleet meander into place from an observation spire jutting out from the Malsheem's surface. He was alone, as He oft preferred to be, save for the pair of Crownguard that flanked the lift door at His back. They stood in silence, never moving or giving any indication that they could be anything more than statues. They were among His greatest and most ardent devotees, and for their fidelity He expunged their identity, their sense of individuality, from them. They knew only service, and lived and died at His word. Had He decreed it, they would take their own life without a thought, and they would kill for Him just as quickly.
Soon, however, the Dark Lord would no longer be alone. He'd summoned one of His disciples to the Malsheem not long ago, and He could sense her moving up through the station towards Him. She would be here within minutes, for what reason she had not been informed. All that she knew was that He called, and she was to answer. It was time for her to discover that He saw many things that others sought to keep hidden, that His gaze could illuminate even the darkest of secrets. She would believe Him adversarial, no doubt, and He would keep her wary and uncertain. But, truthfully, He wanted to see if she possessed what it took to seize the power right in her grasp, for it was a dangerous power she danced with.
One that could lead to her end.
Outside, the fully assembled fleet began to break up, separating into smaller task forces and pushing away from the center group. One by one, they disappeared into hyperspace, traveling far across the galaxy in all directions to serve His will. It was at this time that the lift door opened, and she entered. The Dark Lord did not turn to face her, nor did He immediately greet her. He allowed the silence to stretch between them before He answered, His eyes glancing to her reflection in the glasteel wall in front of Him.
"Welcome, apprentice. How fare your travels?"
