The loss of a Mother

[Almira Izlay'ti]

Slender fingers lightly came to rest upon the frozen Carbonite, tracing along the outline of the woman lain in repose. Crimson red hues, as stunning and shocking as the golden-yellow hues of the passed Duchess fell upon her face. There was no sadness, no tears. She felt not pity nor wanted it. She felt not sadness, nor did she want others mourning. As she stood there it was clear to many, even those whom could not touch the force. ​

​

Rage... ​

​

Anger...​

​

Hatred...​

​

They all coalesced upon the woman, pouring off of her and flowing through the room as if she where the head of a river. Her hand remained upon the slab of Carbonite, moving upon the cheek that she remembered as soft and loving. Fond memories flooded her mind of times spent with her mother, and just as quickly anger and hatred flooded into her mind. Someone had taken the Duchess from her, someone had taken her mother. ​

​

It had been too late to protect her, too late to stop what had been set in motion. She barely had time to even register what was happening, and what was worst, her own daughter watched her beloved grandmother fall. That stung the most, knowing that her child had seen the whole scene unfold. All that she remembered was the heavy sound of the tea glass dropping before the thud of a warm body touched the floor. ​

​

Clutching her hand into a fist, balling it tightly the rage flowed more heavily now, the small objects about the room began to shake slightly from the tremors that rippled through the force. She couldn't understand, she kept asking herself why it had happened. The Duchess was calling for Peace. Calling for Order to the Chaos of the galaxy. She wanted Balance in the Force, and now there would be none. There would be no Peace, there would be no Balance. All that could be promised was that there would be Order, order brought at the tip of a blade. ​

​

"I have no need for your condolences."​

​

Her voice spoke out, filled with just as much hatred and seething in pain. Barely looking over her shoulder the crimson red hue of her eye glance over the being before she returned to her own mourning. Her eyes falling upon the Duchess that lay in repose. The only thing left of her was pressing against the woman's hand. Looking down she saw a kindred spirit, one whom was feeling just as much pain as she. Nisal, her mother's Nexu remained at her side now, and she already knew whom she would entrust the beast too. ​

​

"I have a need for your vengeance."​

​

[member="Adrian"]​

[member="Alena Beswin"]​

[member="Alicia Drey"]​

[member="Danger Arceneau"]​

[member="Darth Arcanix"]​

[member="Darth Arcis"]​

[member="Darth Venefica"]​

[member="Darth Vornskr"]​

[member="Enigma"]​

[member="Felicity Mason"]​

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]​

[member="Leilani Paaie"]​

[member="Shakk Awaud"]​

[member="Tarek'Gor"]​

[member="Teto Gravos"]​

[member="Zerrene Torran"]​

 

[Onrai]

[member="Almira Magrath"]

"Vengeance, you say?" A voice would ring out as the form of Circe Savan would materialize in front of the Magrath woman. her dynasty was strong, though the Sith Lord wished she had experienced more participation with the Duchess's schemes. Interaction had been minimal, however, because she never seemed to get a chance to talk to the Duchess about what had been going on - fate always intervened.

Now there was no obstacle.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"For the first human being I respected enough to make a gift of the Force itself...I think vengeance can be arranged."

Ashin's voice would have come out cold and flat even if she wasn't wearing her masked helmet.

"Just give me a name."

 

[Via Dolorosa]

The Sith Lady stood at the back, her eyes darting from one figure to the next that had come to pay respects to her fallen friend. She cursed herself for not being here to protect her as she had promised, but duties elsewhere had called her away. She had seen many die and many more by her hand, or by her command, so it was not surprising she felt nothing in terms of emotions for the Dutchess' passing. However, she was not a complete monster who lacked any sense of emotions, so she clung onto the one emotion that has never betrayed her; anger. ​

​

Darth Venefica stood quietly as the daughter spoke short and absolute phrases. She didn't need condolences and she would receive none from the Dagobah Sith Lady. The Magrath girl spoke of vengeance and that was both a powerful tool and a highly sought out motivator; a true course of action. But vengeance on whom? The Dutchess had very few enemies, mainly because the Sith Lady had culled most of them leaving her friend free of the blood on her hands. Was it possible she, or they, had missed one? Or was this a new and unseen threat that, like Darth Venefica herself, was an opportunist?​

​

With the words being spoken by two others, she found her curiosity more than just alittle piqued, but in full bloom. She stood there watching how the daughter of her friend would act. Would she be a ruler or one ruled over?​

​

[member="Almira Magrath"]​

 

[Felicity Mason]

No. Felicity refused to believe it. She could see it right here, and yet it was such an impossibility that her brain simply would not register it- for a time, at least. It was when the oldest Magrath daughter said the word 'Vengeance' that it hit. And it hit hard. Felicity was no Sith Master. She was no Jedi. She wasn't a politician. She was a girl, only recently reaching adulthood. And she was scared.
The Duchess had treated her so kindly since she'd come to live with the family. She'd learned so much from her, looked up to her like a mother. Who would do this? What reason? She was such a kind woman. It made no sense.

Felicity did not often wear black. Mother said it made her look ill, too pale, drew attention to her freckles. But wearing anything else would have been disrespectful, at least, she thought so. That was the color of mourning on Naboo, at least. It still counted if the intention was there, right?|

She wiped her wet eyes on the back of her lacey sleeve, sniffling. Pathetic. Mother would have scolded her for crying in public. And what's worse, she couldn't even manage a 'pretty cry'. Mother could pretty cry. She could make a single tear roll down her face, elegant, perfect. Celeste could do it too. Then there was Felicity. When she cried she whimpered, quivered and sniffled. Her tears came in great big drops, one after another. Her nose ran and her eyes got red and puffy. And she'd make faces. Ugly faces. There was nothing pretty about Felicity when she cried.

She wished Owain was here with her. He'd know what to say. He'd hold her hand and let her cry into his shoulder. But he wasn't here. He was basically on the same level as a servant. Of course he wasn't here. But he would be thinking about her, she was sure. That almost made her feel a little better.

 

[Almira Izlay'ti]

"The Republic..."​

​

"The Mandalorians..."​

​

"I will watch as their worlds burn for their transgressions. Any whom would stand in the way will be lain low."​

​

Another tremor of Dark Side energy pulsed off of the young woman as she kept her hand upon the frozen Carbonite. Slowly pulling her slender fingers away she stepped forward. Her eyes falling upon those whom had remained in the room. She knew many of them, though had spoken to even fewer. Falling upon the Colonel, her crimson red hues didn't need to see his face to know that he himself was already driven to madness and anger at the loss. She knew he was a close confidant of her mother, and she could tell with a simple glimpse that he was willing to go to any length for his own retribution against those whom had wronged the family. ​

​

Those same crimson red hues fell upon her next, Darth Venefica, a woman whom was just as filled with anger. She understood that not a single soul in the room was to blame for the death. She could even feel their own anger and sorrow washing over themselves as she moved through the large mourning room. Stopping just before her. With a soft motion of her hand the beast that had been following at her side strode forward, its two paws resting heavy upon the young woman's shoulders as it rubbed its cheek against her. ​

​

"Nisal is yours to care for now. If you mother has a desire to say otherwise, then simply tell her it was the last request of her old friend." ​

​

She was about to turn back towards the Carbonite, then she stopped, a soft smirk crossing her lips just as it always seemed to happen upon her mother's. Turning back towards Felicity, slender fingers slipped under her chin to lift her head up. Almira could see her own pain and sorrow that was taking over the young woman's heart. Crimson red eyes looked deep into hers, piercing just as her mother's Golden-Yellow hues had been. ​

​

"That is if you desire to return home. If you want to find out whom took the woman that was a mother to us from this Galaxy, then you are welcomed. If you choose this, then you shall become a Magrath." ​

​

Almira turned back towards those that had gathered. The Avidonian Dominion was her mother's dream, a view of what could have brought Order, Peace and Balance upon the Galaxy. She herself knew that to taint it with her actions to come would destroy her mother's dream. A dream that she wanted to allow to remain intact. That was why she did not plan on staying. ​

​

"There are many whom would see me become the Autarch, to take my mother's place. I do not want that. Her desire was for Peace. For Order. For Balance. This Galaxy will soon know that it could have had that dream, and now, it shall have WAR."​

​

Looking upon her mother's form, she let her eyes move over the Carbonite. She was not about to let her mother remain on Avidon, no the slab would be taken where ever she went. Watching it carefully, she turned her head to the side for a moment. A whisper, it was faint, though it was there. Turning her attention back, she looked to those in the room. ​

​

"Where I am going Darkness reigns. Where shall you find yourselves?"​

​

That sly smirk crossed her lips once more as she moved towards the Carbonite, allowing her hand to run along it slowly once more. She was calling for those that were true friends, those that would follow her into the Darkness. For where she was going, she would return with the horrors and twisted creatures that lay beyond, hidden in the Unknown Regions of the Galaxy. ​

​

[member="Adrian"]​

[member="Alena Beswin"]​

[member="Alicia Drey"]​

[member="Danger Arceneau"]​

[member="Darth Arcanix"]​

[member="Darth Arcis"]​

[member="Darth Venefica"]​

[member="Darth Vornskr"]​

[member="Enigma"]​

[member="Felicity Mason"]​

[member="Jaster of clan Awaud"]​

[member="Leilani Paaie"]​

[member="Shakk Awaud"]​

[member="Tarek'Gor"]​

[member="Teto Gravos"]​

[member="Zerrene Torran"]​

[member="Ashin Varanin"]​

 

[Onrai]

Circe paused, her eyes, though enraptured in shadow, turning to look at a certain [member="Ashin Varanin"] she had not spoken with for a long time.

"Sounds like a plan."

[member="Almira Magrath"] [member="Felicity Mason"] [member="Darth Venefica"]

 

[Darth Arcis]

Cold, unblinking yellow eyes and a dark cowl were the only things that marked the man called Dranok. A wretched being he was, with his arched back and eternal grimace, you'd think the old Sith Lord would just fall over and turn to dust one day. The lightest wind could have toppled him as if he were a sapling, the roots snapping in the tiny gale. Those sun-hued eyes flicked from person to person, no doubt reading the emotions and unspoken words of each being present.

What they wanted was what he wanted: blood. Dranok desired more than just a tiny helping of that decadent fluid - he wanted all of it. To bathe in such a thing would cleanse him of all the sins he'd ever committed and drinking it would only reinvigorate his body and mind, turning a stale, old body into youthful vigor and muscle.

Blood.

If this heir-apparent was anything like her mother, it was sure to come soon.

Dranok gave a wretched cough, angling it into the crook of his elbow before settling.

Into the darkness, huh? I can tell you a thing or two about that, little one.

[member="Almira Magrath"], [member="Enigma"], [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Almira Magrath"]

Jaster and his daughter [member="Shakk Awaud"] stood in the back of the group of people mourning the carbonated women. Jaster didn't know the duchess personally, just when he meet her at a party and when he swear his honor to the dominion. This was an unseen misshap that Jaster did not see, he and his daughters life were now in the hands of people he didn't know. His company was at stake, his livelihood, his honor...

Though he was not fearful of what would happen, he was worried where it all would lead. He was not blindly loyal to a women he didn't even know, he wanted profits by selling his genetic soldiers to the duchess. Still he swore on his honor as a Mandalorian to serve the Dominion, this meant even after her death. As long as the idea of the dominion was in a single persons mind, he would be at their service. Though to be honest, watching his homeworld burn was also convincing, as he was an exile.

He stood and walked to the group of people as they listened to the daughter of the duchess speak. As she finished Jaster made himself noticed by the daughter.

"Clan Awaud, and my company are at the service of the Dominion."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Almira Magrath"]

Ashin shot a glance at [member="Enigma"], then looked back to the Magrath heir. "Who of the Republic? Which Mandalorians?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Does it matter?"

Said the voice from the darkness, echoing off of the walls of the chamber with sickening reverberation. The owner of the voice made himself known very quickly visibly as well, stepping out from the shadows to bathe in the gloom of the chamber, his body language proud, yet mournful. He wore a robe of zeyd-cloth covered by black armorplast, and his hood was pulled back to reveal his youthful, yet experienced features. A short cropping of pitch black hair sat upon his skull, his eyes were a deep brooding emerald that pierced the soul with a mere gaze, and his mouth was pulled down into a frown that conveyed his displeasure at this whole affair with the now deceased Duchess, whom he thought of as a friend.

"Some of them? Most of them? All of them? It does not matter in the end, all that matters is vengeance. The Duchess and I had talked at length of what we believed was to be done with this fractured, strife-ridden, woefully broken galaxy of ours. While our methods on how to achieve a united galaxy differed, the end goal was the same. It angers me to see such a proud adherent of order and justice be struck down in such a cowardly way." The Sith Lord walked past many to reach the carbonite slab that held the Duchess' body, and he gingerly touched a hand to the side of the slab, feeling within and contemplating.

"I will see those responsible burn."

[member="Almira Magrath"]
[member="Ashin Varanin"]
[member="Darth Arcis"]
[member="Enigma"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"It matters to me, Zambrano. Because I'm a Mandalorian. Oh, I'm no use with the gadgets and wouldn't know the first thing to do with a wrist-mounted flamethrower or a jetpack rocket, but I was inducted into Clan Ordo by verd'goten."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

It was right then and there that Kaine literally spit in disgust, hocking a big ole loogie over into some vacant corner away from the Duchess' slab. It was obvious what his feelings were on the Mandalorians, having fought against them on numerous occasions, and having been responsible for many of the Sith atrocities against their people in the past. "How the mighty have fallen, Varanin."

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Onrai]

[member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

"She was always quite capable, as were you, Kaine." Circe continued to look the situation over, pondering how she could best benefit th young woman before her. "Alliances of convenience are the Sith way, after all. Besides, I'd like to savor the opportunity... I haven't seen either of you in some time... Especially you, Ashin." She smiled, though she expected such would barely be seen if at all.

These two had raised hell a long time ago, nearly killed each other. Apparently she was to play peacekeeper.

 

[Darth Arcis]

Dranok felt an odd presence, a familiar feeling of detection that stank of foul, pungent deeds and genocide. A wolfish smile crept across his visage, pink lips nearly a white-grey. The black cowl crept over towards the carbonite fossil, where two of the major players in the galaxy hung, playing tug of war with their words and scowls. It was old Kaine and Ashin, oh how long had it been since he'd been in their presence. Three former Emperors all in one little room.

"Hello, Kaine," his voice came out hoarse, like gravel against stone. "It's been far too long, brother." Yellow eyes glazed over when he heard the woman's confession of being Mandalorian, and Dranok resisted the urge to hock his own glob of phlegm onto the ground.

"You traded power for family?" Dranok scoffed, coughing again.

[member="Ashin Varanin"], [member="Darth Vornskr"], [member="Enigma"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Vornskr"] @Enigma [member="Darth Arcis"]

Ashin snorted. "Please. As if I couldn't still wipe the floor with every one of you at once. When will you 'Sith Lords' clue in to the actual principles of the Sith, hm? You find whatever it is you want, and then you overcome every barrier that stands in the way. Everything else is dross and pretty toys for childlike minds. So I suppose I'll simply have to weather the stigma of Mandalorian association, a daunting tempest though it is."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He smirked, "You'll find me a much different adversary than the one you faced on Lwhekk, Ashin. That hubris of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days, do I have to call Jacobs to put you in timeout?" He turned to face Ashin, his face full of dark mirth, his eyes twinkling at the verbal back and forth. There was a different air about the man, one that was soaked with the depravity of the Nether, and that reeked of new birth. "The realms of the afterlife held new lessons, of which I learned many during my pilgrimage through those worlds of hellfire and blood." He turned back to face the carbonite slab, letting his hand gently caress the stone-like material.

"And I know what I want, Ashin. A galaxy on fire."

[member="Ashin Varanin"]
[member="Darth Arcis"]
[member="Enigma"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"If you mean that sincerely," said Ashin, voice cold and precise, "start with Panatha and I'll believe you."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine chuckled, "Witty, I think I hit a soft nerve, yes? No? It does not matter, starting in the Outer Rim is not part of the design. Even now the Core regions and those surrounding are engulfed in a war between the darkness and the light, worlds buckling beneath relentless bombardment, armies cleaved in two, armadas burning in the blackness of the void. The pyre has already been lit, Ashin, and it's only a matter of time before it becomes an inferno."

[member="Ashin Varanin"]
[member="Darth Arcis"]
[member="Enigma"]

 

[Felicity Mason]

Nisal. The nexu rubbed against her skirt. She was in mourning too, wasn't she? Lonely. Sad. Like her. They needed each other. She bent down, burying her face in the nexu's soft fur as she wept. Nothing else mattered now. Not what the others were saying. She was too busy. Thinking.
She could go back home. If she wanted. Did she want to?
No. She didn't. She loved Naboo. Naboo was home. Imerria was home. But this was home too. This family was her family too. Leaving now was not an option. Not while her mentors killer was free. How could she abandon them now? For a while she knelt in front of the Duchesses pet, stroking her pretty furry head.

"I'm in," she said at last, looking up with wet, red eyes, "Count me in."

[member="Almira Magrath"]