The Mastery of Power - TSE Post-Galactic War Rally

[Darth Carnifex]

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Dromund Kaas
New Kaas Cityhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/110651-kaas-city/

The climate of Dromund Kaas had warmed since those snowy days of dancing and revelry, a refreshing torrent of rain and the distant rumble of storm clouds. Despite the increasing drizzle, the streets of the Sith Empire's co-capital were packed to beyond capacity as strike craft flew in elaborate flight patterns overhead. Black and crimson banners brazenly displaying the Sith-Imperial crest fluttered from every parapet, some large enough that when they were unfurled they covered the sides of the city's dazzling skyscrapers. Gargantuan holographic projectors lined the streets as well, displaying images from the event that had drawn each and every citizen of New Kaas City out into the rain and thunder.

Before the Imperial Palace was arrayed the grand might of an entire army, over three hundred thousand Legionnaires of the vaunted Imperial Legion in full war regalia and arranged in divisionary blocks. Military officers of high rank stalked among the rows of Legionnaires, shadowed by the flowing black zeyd-cloth capes of Sith Lords and Ladies. Every soldier carried a ten-foot tall vexillum upon which the iconography and Aurebesh numeric of the division to which they were assigned was displayed.

Rising up before the multitude of soldiers was a platform ten meters tall, more Sith-Imperial banners billowing from its edges and the ornate wall behind it. The wall depicted the history of the Sith in highly stylistic mosaic, from the Exile's resettlement on Korriban to the coronation of Emperor Carnifex; a legacy spanning over seven thousand years of well-documented and highly revered history. Those that stood atop the platform were the most decorated soldiers and Sith that the Empire had to offer, alongside a small cadre of Imperial Crownguard that served as the Emperor's personal guards for the ceremony.

The Emperor himself stood at the front center of the platform, his own elevation slightly raised despite his gargantuan stature. He wore a lavish robe of maroon lined with golden silk, ancient Sith runes stitched into the open sleeves. A cuirass of dark metal, likewise trimmed by gold, was firmly affixed to his broad muscular chest. From his elevated position, he could see all of the assembled warriors, those brave soldiers of Imperium who have put their lives at great risk to ensure that their Empire would not be toppled by those who sought its destruction.

This was for them, this grand and lavish ceremony.

"Today, we are gathered here for a singular purpose." The Emperor's voice carried across the great flat expanse, augmented by several amplifiers built into the platform. "To recognize and honor the vast military achievements of those men and woman who have gladly dedicated their lives to bringing security and stability to countless systems. For without them, our Empire would have certainly fallen many years ago. It was they who crushed the Dominion at Krayiss II, protected our sovereignty at Mirial, laid waste to our enemies at Thyferra and Gree, and brought the Galactic Alliance to its knees at Coruscant. Without them, the Empire does not exist."

A brief pause, to allow the last vestiges of his reverberated voice to dissipate. "We are a people who understand simple concepts; courage, determination, strength... We understand perhaps above anyone else in the galaxy the righteous of power, that those who possess the strength to act and to lead are those who deserved to rule the galaxy. Because of that understanding, we are Imperial -- a destined people. But there will always be those who do not comprehend our way of life, those who will never understand that a strong hand, stern but just, is required to bring order to a galaxy beset by conflict and injustice. These people would leave the fate of the galaxy to chance, to the whims of a mob."

"Future historians will look back upon this time, and they will know that it was the Empire, not any Republic, that brought back the rule of law to civilization. Stability will be restored, but much will be required of us to ensure that this glorious future written for us in the stars comes to pass. For that is what it means to be Imperial, my brothers and sisters, to have the strength to do what must be done even if it exacts a heavy toll upon us. But, because we are a strong people, we will bear this burden as we have all others."

The Sith Emperor raised one clenched fist to the sky, "Empire, Emperor, Loyalty! Imperius! Nyashjontû Wo!" The gesture was replicated by the hundreds of thousands in attendance, a collective roar repeating the Empire's battle cry briefly drowning out the rumbling storm clouds on the horizon.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

The ground resonated with the pulsing activity of the Sith-Imperial celebration. She could feel the air quaking with every breath she drew, and sensed the high-strung sense of pride, joy, fear, and excitement that bubbled out of the masses like smoke from a factory. Their manufactured ecstasy, fuelled by a steady diet of propaganda and outside war, soon overtook any inward dissent and turned all voices to one: Unity under one Empire, one Emperor. They cheered truthfully for the legion that fought foreign wars to protect the homeland. The returned legionnaires basked in the glory and honest cheer, reaffirming the hero worship and imperial ideals that made many of them sign up to begin with. The war machine was not just guns and armour, but banners and papers too. Without something to aspire to, an enemy to fight and a victory on the horizon, the Empire would surely crumble.

And in this Empire there were many who aspired to great power. Joycelyn herself was not exempt as she had played a dangerous game to come thus far, and arrive on Dromund Kaas on this auspicious day.

She ran a finger under the collar of her ceremonial uniform, pulling it away from her neck for a second. Her yellow eyes were transfixed on the distance, where her father made his address to the people and the guests of honour. [member="Darth Carnifex"] stood as a giant towering over his people, dais or no dais. Joycelyn knew she was about to go there, and while she felt secure in her preparations, she was anxious.

She had risen from being a fringe member of the Zambrano dynasty to taking her father's old moniker and dubbed herself as Darth Vornskr the Second; a decision l she had rooted in the like of Wyyrlock in the days of the original One Sith. When she made that choice she was but a girl, a minor commander in the Imperial Legion. That had been the day she had decided to apply herself to gaining all the power her name could give her, and to have it serve her.

Alk and Ilke, her two trained vornskrs, circled around her feet, sensing her anxiousness. Their barbed tails whipped back and forth and their heads hung low, with ears flicking this way and that perceptively. Joycelyn herself let a hand rest on the hilt of her lightsabre to calm her nerves. She was lightly armed, compared to her usual outfit, but never unarmed. The hilt was also a symbol of her position as a Sith, just as the markings on her sleeves were symbols of her rank in the Legion, and the brooch keeping her cape closed a symbol of her devotion to Vahl. She was all of these things, and some things more. Those supporting bases were part of her strength.

No power grows out of nothing; it is always built on a pre-existing foundations.

"Mother Vahl, watch over me." "She is, and she will. So long as you keep her in your heart"

Her mother, Emma Cuilein put down the lit incense, reached up and adjusted the shoulders of Joycelyn's jacket. A smile lingered on Emma's lips and in her eyes, pride perhaps. She made no words at this time, but pinned a golden brooch on Joycelyn's cape fastening; it featured an eye wreathed in flame. It had been a gift from Kaine to Emma during their initial courting. Joycelyn carefully wrapped her hands around her mothers' knuckles and knelt, placing the knuckles against her forehead. Between them, a silent prayer went to their god.

Rising to her feet, Joycelyn adjusted her uniform once more, then stepped out as the battle-cry and raised fist rippled through the crowd. The two hounds followed obediently at her heels, stingers swishing along the ground. Her procession was a display of power, but nothing too ostentatious in comparison to the sea of faces and banners. Joycelyn was to take her place at her father's side, where he dictated. She would smile and wave, and graciously accept whatever honours the Emperor saw fit to bestow upon her for her service to the Empire.

"Nyashjontû Wo!" -She joined with the chant.

One day, she dreamt, she would be hailed and lay honours on her commanders.

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

Grandiose as ever, she thought. Her Master was unable to attend the rally to showcase the Empire's power and history, being indisposed at a hidden location until her child was born, so Eldaah had been sent to represent the Lady of Secrets. Eschewing her usual masked and armored garb for the more traditional robes of the Sith, hood up against the driving rain from Dromund Kaas's warm season, she sat on the raised platform in her Master's place. A small part of her allowed herself the fantasy of sitting among the Sith Lords and Ladies, the masters of the dark side, permanently. One day, she knew, her Master would see fit to elevate her. Within her mind, she felt her Master's approval of the idea.

It would be soon, but not this day.

She didn't join in the chant, but that wasn't her way, to begin with. She was the shadow, the quiet observer for her Master, the hidden instrument of her will that had frustrated the Silvers when they controlled this part of the galaxy, who had been the proxy of the blame for the incidents on Sluis Van and Xagobah before the Alliance fell. Her loyalty was absolute. She did not see the need for such... exuberant evidence of such. [member="Darth Carnifex"] was in peak form tonight, stirring the passions of the citizenry and the military in one fell swoop. The Sith Empire had done much to bring order back to the lawless northern reaches of the galaxy, stamping out heresies, traitors, and enemies that had done nothing to stem the tide of anarchy and that oft-quoted institution of democracy.

She idly wondered as [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] joined the rally, what the daughter of the Emperor desired in the galaxy. What drove her? Was it a thirst for power? Bloodlust? Hatred of the Jedi and the Light? Her father's dream of Order ruling the galaxy with an iron fist? And she wondered...

A thought from her Master whispered through her mind, a silent observation...

Yes, she had to agree with her Master on that regard. The Light was attempting to recover while the Sith had dealt with heretics. Even as this rally celebrated the great victory, the work was not done yet. Even now, the Confederacy continued its expansion, striking at the New Republic's foundations. The Mandalorians were in a position in the middle, striking a precarious balance that would one day tip soon to one side or the other. The Silver Jedi had grown deep roots and were slowly spreading their influence through the Inner Rim, the Expansion Region, even into the Colonies.

Yes, a great victory was to be celebrated, to show their growing mastery, but the work was not done.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor, powerful and assertive, turned his gaze to his daughter as she approached. By genetic fortune, Joycelyn had turned out just slightly taller than her father, though the dais the Emperor now stood upon nullified that difference by placing him on the high ground.

Truth be told, it was for her that the Emperor had arranged this assembly of the Empire's finest, arraying them out like toy soldiers in neat symmetrical rows. Joycelyn had been more capable of executing her father's will than most of his other children, a fact that he had stated many times over the past few years as simultaneous praise for Joycelyn and motivation for those among his progeny to better themselves. Many of his children sought to earn his praise, but only a few truly deserved it.

"My child, Joycelyn Zambrano." Spoke the Emperor, his voice not as bombastic and roaring at it had been moments before when he addressed the entire congregation, though his voice could still be heard by everyone in attendance thanks to the amplifiers. "Of all of my children, you have proven yourself worthy of many great accolades. You have served faithfully and diligently, never wavering in your commitment to both myself and the Mother Vahl. You alone possess the strength to take up the mantle of my old life, for who else may be called Vornskr the Second if not you?" He placed both hands on her shoulders, his grip was tight but affectionate; a rare display from the Sith Emperor.

"So let it be known to all assembled here and to all observing across our great Empire, that I, Emperor Kaine Zambrano the First," He relinquished his grip now, a gesture with his left hand bidding her kneel while his right went for the lightsaber sheathed at his hip. A second later its crimson beam was activated, raindrops sizzling as they fell upon it. "Henceforth declare you a true and righteous Lord of the Sith, and bestow upon you the distinct honorific of Princess of Dromund Kaas." He gently tapped her right shoulder with his lightsaber, letting the blade bit into her garment and flesh for a half a second before he repeated the gesture with the left shoulder. "This declaration names you my heir to the throne of the Empire, a successor worthy of taking my place should calamity befall me."

Another grandiose gesture, "You knelt as a Knight, now rise as a Lord."

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Rain pelted down over Joycelyn, over everyone. It made her black hair stick to her forehead, and it bounced off her caped shoulders. in time with the drumming of the rain on her shoulders Joycelyn could feel her heart beating hard, in tact with the assured falls of her boot heels. She kept her eyes fixed forward, face relaxed but for the smallest hint of a smile. The smile painted her with confidence. Confidence, even in the face of uncertainty, was like a the forward point of a speeder; it did not propell you on its own, but it made it much easier to stabilise in high speed. The hounds behind her sensed her confidence as well, assuring them in her leadership.

She imagined it assured those watching as well.

As Joycelyn stepped up to the dais on which her father stood, she gave a courtly bow. The two vornskrs sat obediently at the foot of the platform as she stepped up into the presence of the Emperor. Then, in the fashion of the Imperial Legion, she stood in attention. They would recognise the posture and forward gaze, and they would know she was one of them even though she had ascended so high. To be praised so publicly by Kaine Zambrano, it was part of what she expected to face. In ways, the ceremony did not just honour her, but set a goal for others seeking ascension in the Empire.

When her father put his hands on her shoulders, she looked directly into his eyes. Her left hand separated from its fixed position to touch her father's elbow gently, but not in such a way that expressed a desire for him to stop. If anything, the combined movement was reminiscent of times they had sparred, in which she would have gone for the elbow joint to break his structure. However, it was nowhere as forceful.

Joycelyn carried the weight of [member="Darth Carnifex]' large hands well. She did not slump, nor push her shoulders up in response. She felt good to hear him acknowledge her claim on the name of Vornskr. She was Darth Vornskr the Second, just as Kaine had been the frist when he served a dark lord. Just as the Wyyrlocks served Darth Krayt, she claimed her father's forsaken legacy and thus swore herself to preserve the Sith-Imperial way.

She had sworn it by her name, by the Force, and most importantly, she had sworn it by Vahl.

As Kaine's arms retracted, so did Joycelyn revert her hand to her side, then followed the directive to kneel. As she knelt, her right arm brushed the cape further out of the way, exposing the silken red inner lining, and her left hand touched the ground, while the right rested on her left knee. She looked down at the Emperor's feet, but caught the motion to the sabre. Rain dripped down from the tip of her nose in a steady beat. Each landing and creating a ripple.

A roar of thunder cracked once more in the distance, lighting up the skyline with vibrant blue.

Darth Vornskr the Second, and Princess of Dromund Kaas.

The knight had knelt, and the Sith Lord rose. Heir to the Empire.

"By the Force, by the goddess, Vahl, and bear witness all who hear it: I will not fail you, father, my Emperor."

Joycelyn's heart was beating quicker, but less in anticipation and rather in exhilaration. The two vornskrs that still waited at the bottom of the dais now stood up, ears perking in anticipation and then circling each other to face the crowd. Joycelyn turned half way, not presenting her back to the Emperor, but turning sideways enough that she could gaze out over the gathered troops. Her eyes locked with several figures before they passed on, among them [member="Eldaah Aderyn]. She held her chin high as her lungs filled.

"I am Darth Vornskr the Second, the Princess of Dromund Kaas,."

She scanned the crowd, letting the words fall. Her voice rang with authority, carrying through the annunciators and rippling through the crowd. It was the voice of a commander addressing her troops, and a princess to her people.

"And let the enemies of the Sith Empire beware: We will not relent while there is discord in the galaxy. We will not sit idly by while pretenders and rebels hide in their holes like thieves and bandits." "If the galaxy shall burn, then we shall hold the torch that lights it." "And from the ashes of corruption shall rise a galaxy in balance, in prosperity, restored and corrected."

Her eyes returned to Kaine as she let the words sink in once again. A suspense in the troops awaiting resolution.

"This I swear, as heir to the Empire."