Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Heir To The Snake


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There were few who didn't know of them. Darth Strosius Darth Strosius , Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr . The pair that once served Darth Ophidia before they turned and killed her. It was a proper fate for a Sith to be killed by their own apprentices. But now Strosius continued to speak his disdain for the current Lords of the Sith, and with it, chaos would rise again. Sith fighting Sith. It felt as if the infighting was only at a brief intermittence.

In truth, Vazz didn't mind one way or another on what might happen with the political side of the Sith. He only cared in the continual existence. It was what brought him here to Alvaria. To the home that Malum had made here. He didn't hide himself, didn't turn invisible, didn't bother with stealth. Even if it worked, it'd only make a threat where there shouldn't be one.

And if Malum turned out to be the type of threat that Vazz felt a need to deal with, there were plenty of other options.

The Defel walked calmly, head high as he let out a low whistle. They would have words before Vazz decided anything. Words could lie, but he was skilled enough in knowing someone's true intents. Fear often brought such intentions right to the forefront.
 
The twin moons of Alvaria made for quite a sight in a clear dark sky like this. He had never been to Tython, and very likely never would, if the Galatic Alliance still held dominion over the Core of the Galaxy as they continued to do, but he had to imagine that the moons, Bogan and Ashla were just like the moons he now saw just above him. It was ironic in that sense, that Bogan and Ashla had been named as such because they were seen in opposition to one another.

The twin moons of Alvaria on the other hand, were named so for another reason entirely, a reason far more complimentary, Xadrius and Schyzo by some lineage that he could not even imagine, he supposed were his kin, separated by centuries, bloodlines so separate calling them kin almost seemed farcical. Yet named after two great Emperors of the once-standing Holy Alvarian Empire, the first the Great Unifier, and the second the Great Restorer, both men he would never know, but whose histories were well told, and well discussed throughout this world. Of two legacies which he now held on his shoulders, and speaking rather than opposition, of conciliation.

If these two moons were named for men of greatness who had brought the Alvarians forward, why were Tython's names moons named after those of great division, whose struggles would see their Order split in two, between the light and darkness, between Jedi and Sith?

Had it all been so inevitable as both sides said, as both sides believed?

He was not so certain.

It was these vague musings, of thoughts that depressed him and made him want to think of anything else, but inevitably returning to the point, which had for the first time in a long while been able to undertake. Walking along the grassy knoll, far from the distant ruins of a palace which he was meant to call him, yet still, some part of him found foreign, but still within its grounds, even with the depressing thoughts, of musings that meant little and little else, he for the first time found himself relaxed.

Far from the Guard which would fuss over him incessantly. Far from the locales of this world, who needed so much from him, and which while he felt the paternalistic protectiveness for, he could still not quite help but view as alien to him. Far from the stresses and tribulations that rule had brought him.

It was simply nice to breathe, breathe in the darkness and feel as it flowed through his veins, as the Nexus, recovered from Adeline's attempted stealing of it, gave him an uneasy calm.

Well, it was probably time to head back to the palace. Of course, as with most things, as that thought struck, so did a feeling of irrational distrust, one not even born of the vague whispering at the back of his mind. For once, and for reasons beyond him, his mind had been thankfully quiet.

He began his walk back to the Palace, staring up at the stars, and wondering... if this was what he truly wanted.

No answer came to him.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"I've never seen a Sith so melancholy before. It's quite the fascinating sight." Vazz spoke from nearby, drapped in the shadows of the night. It wasn't hard to figure out that the Lord of this palace had gone out for a walk prior to his arrival.

What he hadn't expected was to walk upon a Sith staring at the stars as if in a dream.

"What does a Darth day dream about? You seem to have some insight."

Vazz spoke with a false, friendly smile. Kept his distance, kept himself in the shadows. If there was going to be a problem, he would be ready to handle it at least.

Though he hoped there wouldn't be too much of a problem.

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
As soon as the stranger's voice had been heard, Malum's hand had instinctively drawn to his sabre's hilt, and a vicious flickering hiss erupted across the grounds, as the red lightsabre was unveiled with all its glory, hissing against the wind as he placed it in a guarded position against the new arrival.

One that he quickly realised was familiar.

The wolf from Eliad.

And just as strange as it was to see a wolf walking upon its hindlegs at Eliad, it was just as strange now. Though as surprise gave way to rationality, he had to mentally kick himself, they were not a common sight to him at least, but seeing this close, Malum realised though it looked far more wolfish than most of its kind, this was... a Defel.

To some degree, the wolf reminded him of the disposition of another wolfish creature, that of Gerwald Lechner, yet where it seemed he had favoured his humanity, this being before he favoured its animalism. At the end of the day, that mattered little, what would matter though was if this figure was anywhere close to as competent as Lord Lechner, because if that was the case, this would be far from what he would call relaxing.

"You would be surprised, we do not advertise the fact, but giving in to one's emotion means all of them, the choleric, phlegmatic, sanguine... and of course, melancholic alike," Malum stated simply, taking a step towards the right, keeping the stranger in front of him, and the palace behind him. There was a very key detail that Malum was loath to overlook.

He had been surprised.

"You're growing sloppy, negligent."


He bit back a retort at the voice in his head, so mocking, so... right. He had not known how it had happened, had he truly felt so secure in Alvaria that he had not taken the protections to guard against assassins and clandestine activity? Was he about to pay for that inattentiveness, too busy asking the sky for answers?

Of course, where hysteria could hold ground, rationality quickly came to the rescue. He was a Defel, and if there was one thing anyone knew of their species, it was their very specific ability to bend light around them, to become invisible. It did not save Malum for the fact he had not been constantly alert for the presence of Force users around him, but it did explain why he had not spotted him sooner.

"What do we dream about..." Malum parroted back at him, both searching for an answer to that strange question, and wondering why he would even ask it, "A great many things, but I seem to be at a disadvantage," Malum spoke, his lightsabre not lowering an inch, "Give me your name, your purpose here, and I will answer."

Could he trust a word that came out of his mouth? Doubtful.

But if he was an assassin, revealing himself, and allowing Malum to draw a weapon spoke of extreme arrogance or sloppiness.

Either could be exploited.

Vazz Vazz
 
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"Relax, Lord Malum. You know better than most how inefficient an assassination attempt this would be if that was my intention." The Defel stepped forward, despite the ignition of the lightsaber, to take a seat rather calmly on a bench nearby. He was relaxed, calm even. Smiling the fake smile of a Sith who knew that their smile was fake.

In reality the figure before Malum was completely fake. An intricate illusion while the real Vazz stood close by, naturally invisible and hiding even from the Force. It was a handy trick, to give someone something to look at and speak to while he himself hid away, ready to strike if ever needed.

"I am Vazz, Sith. I hunt and kill threats to thee survival of the Sith. I'm sure that's a familiar belief." That was the purpose of the Assassins, before the formation of the Tsis'kar under Darth Ophidia. No matter what happened, no matter what politics took place, the Assassins would ensure the survival of the Sith and their teachings.

No matter what.

"Shame about your master. Dying twice must take a lot out of a woman."

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
There was something entirely wrong about this, but he could not place it. Of course, there was much wrong about this situation to begin with, a cloaked Defel, a Sith-cloaked Defel, had been able to infiltrate his world, bypass his defences, and now spoke to him, as if he was some familiar sight. There was already much wrong with this, notwithstanding the fact that whether he had been careless or not, he had been able to approach him so close without detection.

Where his eyes were concerned it made sense, Defels were almost perfectly designed to be invisible from the eye if they desired.

But he saw with far more than his eyes.

The invisible black tendrils of Consume Essence emerged out of his form, searching around him, that power which had long ago repurposed to be a field that would detect those who not only felt emotion but felt it so strongly that it emerged into the Force. It had been his saviour for so long, that not one said would he go without the early warning system in place.

Restoring it only filled him more with the wrongness of this situation.

"Some of the most successful, not the best, successful, assassins are rather inefficient I find, far more willing to speak with their targets, make themselves known, before driving the dagger into their hearts and escaping with dramatic flair," Malum would know.

He was one of them.

The tendrils reached out, and while he could feel the Force shining through the figure before him, it was dulled in some way, was he concealing himself even now, as his presence and identity were revealed? Had it been because of the concealment that he had gone undetected?

It was possible, it had been what he first theorised after all, but he could not forget that first most fundamental yet hidden rules, the first explanation though seeming the most explanatory, was usually, always, wrong.

He kept searching, his gaze narrowing, as he felt the Force flow through his form.

"Greetings then... Lord Vazz?" Malum questioned, raising an eyebrow at the lack of a last name, even indeed, a lack of rank, "You seem to know much more about me than I do you," Though it was not as if the teachings of the Tsis'Kaar had been a secret, though the most secret of the triumvirate, being in something as public as a triumvirate required some public relations, "Perhaps you would have fit in well with us, perhaps you still could." It was an offer he expected to be rejected, but if the Defel was genuine in his words, Bogan knew the Tsis'Kaar required more members to rebuild.

He broke eye contact, lightsabre lowering in the closest show of trust he could provide the stranger. For it was as if in his sight, there was something.

But he could not place what.

It was as heard last of the Defel's words, that vision swam with red.

"Do not mention my mistress." Two harsh voices sounded through one mouth, as Malum found his head whipping away from the Defel on the bench, and towards... nothing, as he was almost brought to his knees as a brain-splitting headache took hold.

A plain field was what he saw, as the wind blew over them.

Why was he looking this way? Why had he looked this way? Looking away from a potential foe was lunacy, so why?

Yet, even then, why had his feeling of unease transformed into something far greater?

Vazz Vazz
 

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"If you continue such hostile actions, Lord Marr, I will be forced to respond in kind you know."

The Defel had answered in kind. It wasn't a field like Malum could create, but a targeted, specific form of consume essence that sought to devour Malum's own emotions. Or would, in response to the field that had been created. Vazz was up to playing nice, and could even understand that by showing up as he did there would be some hostility.

But he wouldn't take it all lying down, would he?

"And why should I not mention the late Darth Ophidia? Her hand kept the Assassins strong until her attempt at a coup. It was not our way, it was never our way. But she chose to play the political game, and it cost her her life. By your hand, no less."

He paused, glanced out towards the field. Towards nothing.

"Guilty conscious?"

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
He felt the emotions bleed out of him, it had been a long time since one used that ability back on him. It was almost enough to make him smile, almost, if it had not been for the brain-splitting headache that had arrived out of nowhere, the grinding of his teeth as energies flowed around him as chaotic as the waves amid a storm. He felt the hot air blow out his nostrils as he attempted to centre himself.

It was proving an uphill struggle.

"We must have different definitions of hostility, Lord Vazz, most would think the hostility an expectation after ambushing one at their home," Malum grunted out, eyes still facing away from the Defel, as they were tracking... nothing at all, something that did not exist, something that was not there.

Yet every instinct in his form, as his hairs stood upright, straight at attention, told him there was something else here.

Someone else.

The realisation brought him no pleasure, relief, or joy. It simply was.

And after all, the wolf gave him little opportunity to, as his head snapped back, unnaturally so, as the sound erupted across the clearing, towards the all too casual Defel sitting upon the bench.

"You know nought of what you speak." His voice commanded, with an echo, a ghostly whisper of someone else, he breathed out fresh air, closing his eyes for but a moment to internalise, to calm.

To imagine the joy he would feel of ripping out his own brain to make the fucking banging stop.

"My Mistress would rule this empire if circumstances had been different," If the one who he had trusted, and still trusted to watch his back, had not betrayed them all in a fit of childish impatience, "You say it is not our way, to partake in the games of political machination and rule?" Malum's crimson eyes opened, seeming to glow in the darkness, "Well, I say it be the only way to make certain the Sith Order shall be what it needs to be."

The reason he had not stabbed through Alisteri that day on Fiviune had been that simple realisation.

"Now, reveal yourself spectre, for I know there is someone else witnessing these proceedings." He whispered into the wind, with an audibility for all to hear, as he turned away from the Defel before him, and into the field, the darkness, where he was certain, something, someone, awaited.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"We're in a courtyard, not your bedroom."

Still at his home, but the point remained. This could of been a much more.. Wild conversation anywhere else but outside as the Defel had chosen. "Asides, this is one of the few places you ever bother to be alone, isn't it?" There was a dangerous grin on his face. Vazz new things. More than he ever let on, but he was fine with at least hinting a little.

Then, he laughed. A full on bark of a laugh as he looked towards the empty air. Where the invisible form of the Defel actually stood, and not the illusion he puppeted as real. The illusion on the bench faded as Vazz himself tugged down his hood, a playful smirk spread on his lips.

"Don't worry, it's only me. I prefer letting my illusions be my stand in. I'm sure you understand." Now in the flesh he took the seat of his now faded illusion, lounging none the less. Confidence, arrogance. It was hard to say. Everything about the emotions he showed felt so clearly fake and guarded. "We can agree to disagree, I imagine."

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
Of who he had been expecting to unveil, he was confident that it was not the very same Defel he was speaking to. Yet there he was and from the periphery of his vision, who he had once thought was the real Defel gave way to the... actually real Defel. Truly the twists and turns of the night would not cease.

And after all, why would they?

The night was still young after all.

"There will be a lot that we agree to disagree with, I imagine," Malum offered, strangely enough, the brain-splitting headache beginning to waver away into nothingness, apparently content that the danger had passed enough to cease its attempts to debilitate him.

It allowed him a moment to truly consider how cleverly Vazz had used his skills and traits against him so, using a doppelganger and using invisibility was not beyond him, after all, such was what their arts had taught them to use, but it was a clever usage of both that ability and the Defel's natural affinity towards clandestine activity.

In short, it reminded him far too much of what he had done upon Korriban, in what he had thought at the time was a rescue attempt for Ali.

He deactivated his lightsabre, its hiss signalling its end as he rested it at his side, in another show of trust that he was still unsure was truly warranted towards the wolf that had done its utmost to trick, and well... whose words could hardly be considered overtly friendly.

"Indeed, I understand it a little bit too well," He offered a ghost of a smile, he did not trust the man, but he felt an odd kinship with him. Perhaps there was room for cooperation after all.

"While I am not about to invite you into my bedroom, would you prefer to be out from the cold?" Malum offered, his body motioning towards the distant palace, part of what the Defel said had caught his interest.

"Asides, this is one of the few places you ever bother to be alone, isn't it?"

While it was clear he had wanted to speak with him alone, that purpose was still not entirely clear to him, and now as it usually did with Malum, concern and good sense were rapidly giving way to curiosity.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"If that's where you prefer to talk, I'm not opposed. I'm not bothered by the cold, after all."

The hairless species like Malum's were often very cold in the night air from what he'd learned. And, he wasn't threatened by the idea of being further in Malum's territory. Around his guards, his people, it normally wouldn't be a good thing. At least for what the Defel was planning if the talks soured. He just didn't think the talks would sour.

Call it a hunch.

"Though, first; What does being a Sith even mean to you?"

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
"You wouldn't be, would you?" Malum spoke rhetorically, eyes flicking to consider the mixture of dark and light that defined the thick mane that almost entirely covered the figure, the ghost of a smile still present on his features. He idly wondered how the man would handle a warmer climate, he resisted the shudder at the amount of sweat that would no doubt pool off the man.

Warding those thoughts away from his mind, he began trudging off, whether he minded the cold or not, out in a field was not where agreements or good discussion happened. They happened with a roaring fire, sitting upon comfortable seats, with a drink in hand.

It was upon the Defel's question, that his movements came to a very sudden halt.


"Though, first; What does being a Sith even mean to you?"

Cold air breathed out of his nostrils, a memory he had not considered in some time.

"«What does it mean to be Sith?»"

Memory and voice coalesced into one in his brain, of that day upon Fiviune which had changed everything for him, that had set him on this path a scant near half a decade ago.

"I did not think you a philosopher, Lord Vazz," Malum intoned, not bothering to turn around and face the Defel, yet still grounded firmly in place, "Look to our creed, and you will find your answer, no doubt you know it well?"

All who were Sith had it cracked into the side of their minds.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me

"I will tell you what I told another long ago, the words have not changed, though the meaning will, it means the mastery and control of one's emotions, to derive strength from them, to use that strength to test oneself in conflict to grow and evolve to be powerful alone. Through that power to achieve ultimate victory against any that would stand against one. Through victory, against others, to achieve victory over the self, breaking the chains of limitation placed upon oneself, to achieve perfection. Thus, the final true objective, mastery over the Force itself." To be master over fate and destiny were prizes that were grander than any amount of credit, any strip of land, or anything of material that fools thought the galaxy revolved.

It was why the Sith were right, no matter what the Jedi tried to ordain, willing vessels of fate and destiny, willing instruments of its will, who did not even desire freedom from their enslaved chains.

But the Sith desired more to break their chains, they wished to be masters of will itself.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"Oh I'm not debating philosophy, my lord."

The smile turned to something dangerous. The Defel stood, stepped over as he listened to Malum prattle on about the philosophy behind their creed. Mastery over the Force. Not just ability, but everything. The very fabric of reality. It was as good of a belief as any, but Vazz hadn't asked him of his faith. He stopped short of the smaller human, his red eyes flashing briefly as he stood at his full height.

"Let me rephrase the question. Why are you bothering being Sith? You were oh so reluctant to kill your master. You wanted to make her Empress. What is your.. Ambition?"

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
Malum allowed the Defel to approach far closer than any sane man would have been comfortable with, considering the circumstances of their meeting this twice moonlight night. Of course, Malum himself could hardly be called entirely sane considering the various voices he heard in his mind on the regular and all the other symptoms of insanity that he displayed in increasing regularity.

Madness might have been what he preferred it be called.

Though of course Malum would rather it not be called anything at all.

Every move that the Defel had made to circumvent Malum's expectations, only furthered Malum's amusement, neither an assassin nor a philosopher. What was the Defel that had ambushed him outside his own home? That spoke in riddles with an air of superiority? An honest fanatic?

He offered a smile, his maw filling with enough teeth to make it difficult to call him anything but mad, "To burn Coruscant to ashes, to split it open, and with it watch the rest of the Galactic Alliance fall apart around it, to see the Jedi destroyed, and the Sith reign supreme, as the only force which will lead us against the only enemy that matters." Burning crimson eyes, with fire dancing upon them, stared back towards the wolf's flashing reds, for all they spoke of philosophy, all they spoke of that true enemy that did not inhabit their realm, yet flowed around them, controlling them as willing or unwilling puppets.

It could not done as the greatest puppet, that empire that called itself a free alliance of systems stood strong.

Vazz Vazz
 
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He kept his gaze for a moment longer before barking out a laugh and turned. Walked his way pretty much immediately back to the palace without much explanation. Malum wasn't a threat to the Sith, was the conclusion. For the Defel, Malum's hesitation over killing his master and the already stated desire to have made her into the actual Empress had him.. Concerned.

It didn't matter if the other Sith were going to let Malum run free. If his beliefs were a true threat, Vazz would have made sure to kill him.

It no longer mattered, though. "Do you drink, Lord Malum? I hear nobility has quite the extensive wine collection usually."

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
It seemed Malum had passed whatever test that the Defel had laid for him. What exactly the man had liked about his answer was a mystery to Malum, yet it did seem like the idea that the man might simply be an honest fanatic of the cause, held more water than he had initially considered. He was certainly unlikely to be here to kill him, after all, he had given away several prime opportunities to make the attempt.

On the other hand, he neither seemed like a man interested in discussions of the big picture, the metaphysical, epistemological, ethical, or logical. Those discussions went into hours, with both sides bandying about with large works, impossible to precisely define, and then devolving into debates about the smallest point made, at the end of the day, accomplishing little.

No, the Defel was a man of action, the one who struck, and considered consequences at a later day.

Yet he was not a man of action without a cause.

He had a very specific set of ideas that he was beholden to, that defined, and guided his every action.

And if those ideas aligned with Malum, or if he was even able to convince Vazz that they did, the Defel would be his.

Or so the quick considerations, that barely could be considered a plan, postulated.

"From time to time, all vices are acceptable in moderation after all," Malum answered, in the strange position of following after the Defel towards his palace, "Wines, gin, rum, whiskey, brandy," Malum listed off, "Whatever we can spend our wealth to feel more... cultured." He smirked, he could enjoy any of those drinks on a good or bad day, but sometimes he had to wonder who out in the galaxy was inflating the prices so.

And they had the gall to call the Sith evil.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"Perfect. Then whatever you say is the most expensive."

He didn't have a cultured palate or anything, but he did enjoy the more.. Expensive products. He walked ahead, smiling faintly as ever as they made their way to the estate proper. They wouldn't be a threat to each other, at least for the moment. So why not walk into the den of the snake to share a glass of whatever finery Malum decided.

"What do you know of the Assassins? The ones that came before your Master's Tsis'kar?"

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
He offered a chuckle at the Defel's words, he could respect a man who would try to ruin him... by drinking all his expensive liquor, he raised his wrist to his mouth, instructing the Guard contingent at the Palace of his return, and that he was returning with an... acquaintance.

He perked up at the mention of the Assassins, he knew frustratingly little about them, apart from perhaps that his Mistress had served amongst their ranks, the entity within his mind had been suspiciously silent about it when usually it was more than willing to provide him with the knowledge that seemed useful.

"Not much, apart from their renown, and their habit of individually donning themselves in certain specific colours," the fact that the Defel was implying he knew something was all kinds of interesting. Had it been through an avenue of research that Malum had missed? Or had he been so old that he was a peer of the Assassins? That while intriguing made little sense... if the Defel was that old, where had he been throughout the last few years of Sith strife? "Enlighten me?" He asked rhetorically.

Vazz Vazz
 

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"You're master was once the Pale. Once lead the group herself, after her own master." The Defel chuckled. Shook his head. To think that the very apprentice of the woman who once lead the Assassins would know so little about them. Then again, that was their way. The Assassins were always about their secrets.

Vazz rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"It's a shame you don't know more, but I guess that was her intentions."

Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 
Something triggered a memory, a memory not his own, but a memory it undeniably was.

A pale hood stood, surrounded by those of white, red, and black, bowing their heads in submission.

He stood over Darth Carnifex, seeming to consider the opportunity to turn on his Emperor, before ultimately staying his hand.

He saw the Ouroboros move, the snake's maw constantly chasing its tail, the constant cycle of death and rebirth.

"Success or Death." He whispered that old mantra, just loud enough for the Defel to hear, his eyes locked close as the stream of memories, thoughts, and experiences filtered through a mind only designed for one lifetime's full.

"Four heads, Red, Pale, White, and Black..." He opened his crimson orbs into the world, as he made sense of what he saw, "After the demise of Darth Ferrus, her master, the Red, the Pale took command. Turned method... into ideology..."

He turned back towards the Defel, offering an apologetic smile, "My apologies, it would seem I know a lot more than I initially realised, did you desire to know anything of the forerunner of the Tsis'Kaar?" The Tsis'Kaar were the Assassin's will made manifest, that much he could be clear of, for all the good that the Assassins might have done as a so-called neutral party that kept the Sith Order in line, it required its own beliefs to know what the Sith Order was and should be.

The Tsis'Kaar were the only natural evolution of the Assassins.

Success or Death, the old adage went.

Vazz Vazz
 

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