Private The First Blasphemy

[Darth Nefaron]

Thyferra Burns.

Even now, great panic sweeps the systems of the Mid Rim.

But all Nefaron can do is brood from within his Citadel. Death had nearly claimed him twice, something he would not see occur a third time.
​

Following the Jedi’s sorcerous strike above the newest addition to the Sith Realm, Nefaron had retreated with his loot back to the darkest depths of his fortress world. The great citadel that dominated Anoat’s barren surface grew ever grander following the assault by the Queen of Korriban, but that did little to improve the Dark Lord's mood. Confined to a mechno-chair with various instruments and unknown chemical concoctions flowing into his withered veins, Nefaron attempted to amuse himself by completing the work he started above Thyferra, watching a horribly mutated creature writhe as its seemingly endless torture continued.

"This one's potential has been robbed by the Jedi. All that wasted effort, and we still laid waste to their world."

Nefaron did little but talk to himself, as the various droids and torturers that filled the chamber continued their own horrid projects under the Corpse Lord's watchful gaze. His prize subject, of course, remained sealed away within a Bacta tank of special design, the final ingredient to complete her only being added once the small fleet Nefaron took within to Thyferra returned. Having to be all but carried off an arriving shuttle and into the arms of the citadel's droid majordomo as his body failed him, even with the return of the Force to his withered flesh. Clearly, his talent for sorcery had been weakened by the witch Revna, though that was partially a fault of his own for underestimating her. While his power grew stronger with each passing year, the flesh he occupied would only continue to wither under the strain of the Dark Side, something Sith from countless different generations have sought to reverse over countless generations. Oh yes, he could produce a glamor to hide his form like others in the highest echelons of power, but why conceal the face of true power? He was beyond simple vanity; now he wished for nothing more than to see the galaxy consumed by fear and misery for an eternity.

He needed help. He knew who to ask.

"Lord Helix, it is by your hands that the majority of my body survived the unfortunate mess above Thyferra. While our grip on power within the Empire's boundary has never been stronger, it is clear we can no longer ignore the threat the Jedi and the Republic pose to our plans. It is time for us to evolve."

Helix had been welcomed to Anoat many times, both as a member of the Triumvirate that sought to reshape the Empire and as the most trustworthy ally the Corpse Lord could call upon. His presence had been requested as soon as Nefaron could think straight, and, to his credit, he came as soon as he could. While Lord Ka continued to support their joint efforts amongst the endless political chaos that was the Empire's governance, Helix and Nefaron could continue to operate as mere outsiders whose peculiarities made them appear to be little more than madmen when, in reality, they were plotting to make the galaxy their playground for all time. But before that could come to pass, they would both need to share the deepest knowledge they possessed, something that would be unthinkable for Nefaron to do with his Apprentices, but with the Warlord? That was merely a guarantee of future suffering among the galaxy's innocent.

Turning the mechno-chair toward the Warlord, Nefaron continued.

"We are reaching the limits of our current capabilities. While there is yet undiscovered power, we cannot achieve it as we are now. My body strains under the weight of the Dark Side, and your form, as impressive as it is, can only take you so far. Your science has proven to be far more capable than any produced by the scholars of Jutrand or Korriban, and so I must ask of you to find some method of keeping my body alive and stable, even if the Jedi deploy a weapon such as the one used against us only days ago."

While Nefaron was cruel and selfish, he could not ask this of Helix without offering something in return. Something that other Sith may view as a heresy of the highest order.

"In return for your aid in this matter, I believe it is time that you were welcomed into our fold, those who can take hold of the Force and bend it to whatever aim they see fit. To put it bluntly, we must grant you a true connection to the Dark Side and ensure you can control it just as other Dark Lords can. Together, we can ensure no Jedi can stand against you and that all will cower in your presence."

TAG: Helix
MENTIONED: Revna Marr Veradun Sharr Lirka Ka ​

 

[Helix]

Tag: Darth Nefaron ​

Helix's spined metal feet clicked across the ancient cobblestones of Anoat. He'd been called with the utmost urgency after the Thyferra debacle, and Nefaron seldom handed out an invitation for no reason. The colony found himself intrigued, as he virtually always did when visiting the withered Sith.

He found Nefaron in dire straits indeed. Confined to a hover-chair, the monster was barely mobile. While not normally the liveliest-looking associate Helix had, he now resembled a long-dead corpse more than ever.

I must ask of you to find some method of keeping my body alive and stable, even if the Jedi deploy a weapon such as the one used against us only days ago.

Unfortunately for the galaxy, Helix was inclined to help him. Many would have taken advantage of Nefaron's temporarily-weakened position to wipe him from the board and eliminate a potential future issue. True to form, Helix did consider this, but had long ago concluded that the ghoul was far more useful (and entertaining) alive. Fellow artists were so rare, after all, much less kindred spirits, and leaving him to his fate would be a disservice to future generations.

"The Jedi's ill-advised toy did this?" Asked the spindly mechanical horror, maintaining a tone of polite conversation. He stalked closer to Nefaron, scanning him closely with a thousand and one senses.

As ever, Helix found himself marvelling that the man was still alive, let alone able to speak. Supernatural power seemed to hold him together, along with Helix's own medical micro-droids. The mechanical warlord remotely accessed the tiny machines' mechanical brains, reading the data they fed him. It wasn't pretty, and Nefaron hadn't been exaggerating. The machines were being tested to their limits by the challenges of keeping him physiologically alive.

Still, it was nothing he couldn't fix. After all, conquering the line of life and death was something he'd long perfected, and inflicted on a mass scale on the people of Thyferra.

"Easily done." He replied finally, after assessing the data he could see. "I must say, the fact that you still live is astounding. Unaccountable, even. A testament to the heights of your power. Nonetheless, I am pleased to find it so. The universe can ill afford to lose one of its few remaining men of vision in times like these."

The creature held up one hand, causing the liquid metal of his palm to swirl. A 3-D holographic image emerged, projected at size where both could really see it. Whirling numbers, barely-understandable formulae, and arcane pictographs danced by in an eyeblink.

"In truth, I had planned for this possibility. There are a number of ways to preserve this body. Some will require more work than others, but we will deploy one or more of them. You may rest assured on that front."

"In particular, one method shows great promise. A modified strain of my Tarnaci Blight. If you've watched the news or perused the after-action reports, you know all about that. This unique sample would give your body the same supreme resilience and regenerative properties as my Blightspawn, and would function regardless of the availability of your sorceries."

"Nor would your enemies receive any warning. You would look much as you do now, albeit with rather renewed vigor. The strain is not ready yet, but given the circumstances, I will raise its place on the priority list, along with other methods if you should prefer them." For the thousandth time, Helix restrained the urge to ask about the cause of Nefaron's infamous disfigurements. The ghoul was one of the few who could elicit something almost like consideration from him. "In the meantime, an additional dosage of endo-droids is in order to help repair the damage and get you mobile sooner. I'd offer you something for the pain as well, if I believed you'd accept." Helix was well aware that suffering only galvanized a Sith, at least to an extent.

"In return for your aid in this matter, I believe it is time that you were welcomed into our fold, those who can take hold of the Force and bend it to whatever aim they see fit. To put it bluntly, we must grant you a true connection to the Dark Side and ensure you can control it just as other Dark Lords can. Together, we can ensure no Jedi can stand against you and that all will cower in your presence."

It was Nefaron's second statement, however, that gave him pause.

"Once again, we find ourselves thinking along the same lines." He said evenly. "That too is in progress, but I find myself at something of an impasse on that project. I have secured assistance from contacts in the Covenant to complete it, yet some problems have been encountered. A warrior, a Mandalorian I think he was, introduced a snag in the process and removed a critical sample from my grasp. I was able to complete a scan of the sample before that time, but that is hardly a substitute for the real thing. Progress has been set back by some months."

"If you mean to help, I will gratefully accept. Perhaps your learned mind may spot something I missed in the process, or you might have a viable replacement sample amongst your laboratories."