Faction The Populares | Tsis'Kaar and SO Faction Thread

[Commodore Helix]

Equipment: Same as before
Tags: I still ain't typing all that lol
Open​

Helix allowed himself a slight shake of the head. Not a few minutes out of the gate, and the bickering was already starting. That was the way of things with the Sith, though. Unity, when it happened at all, was temporary. It was just a matter of if a strong personality could force them together long enough to get anything done.

Not that he had a problem with that. It was fertile ground for him to do what he did best. It wasn't his place to interject, so he played the dutiful professional and stayed silent. Little good could come of his input, unless it were asked for.

He was quite comfortable being ignored while the Sith did their usual jockeying for influence. That said, he couldn't help but share some of the concerns brought forward. He had spent enough time in the Outer Rim campaign with the late, great Darth Strosius to know that stomping out criminal elements was often easier said than done.

"And how, Lord Malum, do you propose to actually control the underworld? Criminals, whether career or opprotunist, tend to chafe under strict authority and trying to command them as one does soldiers or the easily cowed masses results in them working against you."

"If I may." He said, speaking up to Darth Malum of House Marr and being sure he would shortly regret it. "While I applaud your efforts to, as they say, 'take out the trash' where Jutrand is concerned, I too would like more detail on how this is to be achieved. If it is a simple matter of military force, then you may of course rely on me. Killing anything that breathes in suspect areas is certainly one way to remove crime, but I calculate that you may find the collateral damage unacceptable. Anything more complex will take time, data, and credits. I am confident that my droids will get the better of any resistance, but simply rolling over the planet will be costly. I trust I will be kept informed of the finer points when they are hammered out."

"Your plan is bold, but what if the Empress does not support our actions? You may claim the Emperor is absent, but the Empress is far from absent and has the ear of many. If she does not support your actions, then anything we do will end before your campaign even begins."

"I share this concern as well, but as for the Emperor's participation or lack of participation, I will defer to your superior knowledge of his habits. I will also caution that sleeping rulers do not often remain asleep at the console when their rulership is threatened, which these actions most certainly will do. I have little interest in antagonizing the wider Order at this time. Not without a far more secure position. There are far too many loose variables unaccounted for. The Worm himself is but one of them. We have much to do yet."

He did not doubt Malum's ability, or for that matter Zachariah Conway 's. Nonetheless, he was not so convinced that simply having the young heir present among them would be enough to make the Emperor deal lightly with what amounted to an open grab for power. One did not rise to the top of the heap, and still have any serious care for others intact. Even one's own.

He studied Zachariah more closely. He couldn't see the boy's face under his concealing garments, but he would be surprised if he shared Malum's confidence. It was his life that was being gambled with, after all, even more than everyone else's.

"Of course, production has been ramped up considerably to deal with these new demands. I can give you the technical details later, if need be. Whatever the strategy, I remain confident any challenges to arise on the Jutrand front, at least, can be handled to your specifications."

 

[Zachariah Conway]

Location: Dorvalla
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tags: All of you! I assume you're watching this thread by now!​

Commodore Helix wasn't far wrong.

It was, of course, on his head if Darth Malum of House Marr 's plan went wrong. Whilst he was certain that Darth Empyrean would wish no harm upon his dynasty he wasn't entirely certain that the Sith Emperor would accept outright treason from the young boy.

Latens, of course, was no fool. Whilst he'd once been young and naive, his years on Alvaria with Malum had shaped him into a different person entirely. He'd been taught the importance of having a plan and a backup plan. He was also smart enough to have contingencies in case the backup plan went wrong.

The young Sith Knight rose to his feet and cast his eyes out over the crowd of people. Many of them were asking extremely valid questions about the plan of his master, a plan that Zachariah himself hadn't heard until this moment. It was a plan that he himself had questions about, however he wasn't about to openly challenge his mentor in public.

"I do believe" he started slowly, attempting to put some form of authority into his voice which had at least deepend over the years "that Lord Malum is suggesting that the Tsis'Kaar return to it's roots of stealth and subterfuge" he continued, pausing briefly. He cast his mind back to his meeting with Darth Ophidia on Elrood and remembered her words well.

He cast his eyes towards Darth Tormenta and smiled under his hood. "You said yourself, my dear. Criminals chafe under strict command. They do not take kindly to those who wield power. Controlling their supply linesis one thing, however there is a key point. They can be brought. All low life scum have a price, sometimes it is simply a matter of ascertaining what that price is" he offered her.

Casting his eyes towards Commodore Helix he offered the droid a nod. "I do not pretend to know the routines of my grandparents" he begun. "I also do not believe him a fool. As you said, Commodore, any challenge to his throne directly will draw his attention" he confirmed, drawing on his knowledge of the Sith Emperor from their previous meetings. "I myself am not privvy to the plans of Malum, however I have faith that he has at least thought through the manner in which he wishes to conduct his plans"

Nodding towards his master, he stepped from the stage and cast his eyes out over the crowd again. What he didn't add on the end was what he was sure the entire room was thinking. He was hoping Malum had thought through his plans. If he hadn't, an entire room of Sith would be passing extremely quickly.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Mining Shaft turned Ballroom, Dorvalla
Tag: Already tagged you all.​

The masked figure remained still as Darth Latens spoke, her presence a whisper in the periphery of perception—felt, but not yet fully grasped. When he finished, when his words settled into the chamber like ink bleeding into parchment, she let the silence stretch. Let it coil, let the anticipation breathe.

Then, like a sigh against the nape of the mind, the whispers returned.

"Faith is a beautiful thing, Lord Latens."

The voice slithered, not from any one direction but from everywhere at once, intimate yet impersonal, seductive yet clinical. It wove through the air, delicate and deliberate, a tapestry of shadow spun in sound.

"But faith alone is a flimsy foundation. It requires something more… something tangible. And we deal in the tangible, do we not?"

A faint chuckle, indulgent but never unmeasured.

"The criminal underworld will never be tamed. It is not a beast one cages; it is a sickness one feeds. A sickness one guides."

She moved then, a slow and effortless glide through the chamber's dim glow, her robe shifting like liquid ink, absorbing light, distorting presence. She spoke, but her voice did not come from her lips alone—it breathed into the room, an unseen specter that wove itself into the thoughts of the gathered Sith.

"You wish to control it?" The whisper coiled around the gathered assembly, each word sinking like a slow-dripping poison. "Then let it flourish. Let the rot spread, let the filth fester—" the cadence dipped, hushed and amused, "—but ensure that every dealer, every thief, every warlord, every single parasite that feeds upon the corpse of this galaxy… feeds at our pleasure."

She tilted her masked face just slightly, a slow, deliberate motion, letting the golden etchings of her mask catch in the dim light, the shimmer of arcane inscriptions flickering like embers before vanishing back into darkness.

"Make them dependent. Make them believe they are free, while shackling them with their own vices."

A pause. A breath.

"It is not about ruling them with an iron grip, no, no. That invites rebellion. It is about ensuring that the moment they even think to bite the hand that feeds them… they realize their stomach is too full of our offerings to do so."

Another chuckle, deep and knowing.

"The Tsis'Kaar will not crush the criminal underworld beneath its boot. It will become the disease and the cure. We will spread our roots into every shadow, make them believe the darkness belongs to them—when, in truth, it is us who decide what thrives in the gloom."

She lifted a gloved hand, fingers slow, deliberate. A languid gesture, dismissive and indulgent, as though she had already seen the path unfold before them.

"Let them think they are free."

Another pause. She let the weight of her words settle, a suffocating softness that seeped into the chamber, into the minds of those present.

"And when the time comes, they will not fight us… they will beg for our mercy."

And with that, the whispers faded, retreating into silence, leaving only the lingering presence of something unseen yet utterly undeniable.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum stood smiling as the voices of concern at his plans washed over him, as easily as the water over one's back, he was unsure what he had expected from the cadre that he had raised, but at least the silence was broken, as more and more of them began to speak. For others, perhaps for even him, there would have been frustration at such conversations boring into him, raising doubts, raising concerns of his vision, yet, allowing himself an easy breath, as he listened along to each and every one of their words.

It was the reminder of the necessity of this, which allowed him to silently listen, nodding along his head towards particularly poignant measures.

He was not an immortal tyrant, for all which power now rested upon his shoulders, no man ruled alone, and even as much as those around him, varied from the amount of trust, the amount of affection, they were owed. Their words were important, they filled the holes of naive ambitions, they watched his back for blades hidden in the dark.

And while just as easily, they could be carrying that blade, just as easily as they would look him in the eye to twist the knife ever deeper, if he held their loyalty, if he held their command, he might be able to achieve all that he wanted, all that they wanted. He only needed to convince them of that.

Yet, as more voices filled the room, of strangers and those of other creeds, of those with mixed loyalties, and other such beliefs... it did become, readily more apparent, for as much as this meeting was necessary, compartmentalisation was as ever the true method forward, there were those within this room that he trusted more than others, all were not created equally, and that within this cadre, that there be cherished inner circle... hardly was the most unfair of acts.

Especially, as he still lacked a Grand Inquisitor, gazing about all those gathered here, he could only wonder which of them would attain the title. His peripherals looked to the recently raised Darth Latens, his voice carrying over the gathered assembly, a voice of reassurance married with the same doubts as the rest of them gathered. He had one apprentice as his Shadow's Hand, why not the other as his Grand Inquisitor? The Tsis'Kaar, as ever, had to remain cognizant of their true purpose.

The teachings of the snake had to pervade over all.

...But Zachariah might have proven himself the knight, but had he proven himself grand?

It was as the whispery voice of Reicher's agent concluded, that Malum allowed himself a heady breath, he did not much appreciate the invitation of one outside their ranks to this meeting, but, he supposed he had entered that specific precedent when he had invited Pacificus, and if Reicher vouched for them... well, he might not trust her, but he would at least permit her presence.

But first, to pay respect to the ancients, turning his head towards the union of biology and robotics, "As much as I imagine for one as long lived as you has seen events like this, time, and time again, you honour me so, by placing its memory in preservation, for as much our actions may not be unique to the galaxy nor to history, it does not take away from its necessity, it does not take away from the good we will bring our people," The galaxy was an impossibly large place, and an impossibly long time had passed from its creation to its present, who knew if thousands of years ago, meetings just like this took place, would be reformers, would be revolutionaries, gathered in underground mines, debating philosophy, debating politics, readying themselves for war, how many succeeded? How many failed? Perhaps in his own way, his own great and famous ancestor, the only of his Dark Council who held sense, ruling and defending his people in the face of an absent Emperor...

...How their empires always seemed to so rhyme, was it not in the end, his hope for them to sing a different song?

"The Tsis'Kaar as ever, the preservers of knowledge of the Order we are, are ever thankful for your presence within our party, we remain as supportive of your efforts, as you do ours," A solemn agreement in some sense, his eyes on Korriban, but if he desired more, than the heir of Marr was more than willing to provide.

Even if he had to hide the quirk of his smile, at the words lambasting the Ualaq, no doubt a fight in the making he would have to settle... but for now, he could enjoy this.

It was to Reicher that he next turned, for all that most were (perhaps rightfully) concerned regarding the looming campaign upon Jutrand, ever the military man, it was he that concerned himself with the campaign outside of their borders, "The Lieutenant speaks truthfully, thankfully at least of information, the Tsis'Kaar is not lacking," He allowed his smile to grow ever slightly indulgent, at the low chuckles that erupted out from the crowd, "But that information only speaks of the danger, there lay Panatha, Exegol, Csilla, and the remains of the Eternal Empire and of course, the Alliance will hardly allow us to flank them so easily, already they begin to expand to cut us off, it will be through us, through the might of the Empire, that we will deal with these existential foes to our existence, that we will claim what is the Sith's to rule."

For the rest of them, it was the matter of criminality, eyes levelled upon equal measure the Cathar, the Droid, and the three Humanoids, it would be a graceful dance, but such had been his way for quite some time.

"...Our guest speaks with flowery words, but their philosophy is not false, I believe there might be misunderstanding in what actions I seek to implement upon Jutrand, I shall clear away such doubts now," The temperature of the room dropped a degree, as his consideration was not only for those that spoke, but too those whom agreed, but did not speak, "I am the Dark Councillor of the Sith Empire, I am Lord Inquisitor of the Tsis'Kaar, it is my duty to stamp out the filth that resides within the heart, within the capital of the Imperium, by any means necessary, but too, in a manner which shall end the epidemic, rather than spreading it, this galaxy has seen equally terrible and great criminal organisations, and what they have tought is criminality is not ever so easily destroyed, as distasteful as it may be to some, if we recognise this fact, it becomes evidently clear, the only path forward is to purge the worst of the cancer, and control what remains, for there will be remains, most of it will remain by our estimate."

His eyes fell upon Lady Dyn, her concern was perhaps the most unique and interesting of them all, "I do not claim the Emperor is absent, he is absent, I do not fault him for it, he has won us victory across the Rim, from Ferie Junction, to Makem Te, to Tion, to Sluis Van, what he undertakes within the depths of the Imperial Palace are his own, with our faith wholeheartedly given that he serves the Empire as we serve him, with a fully operational Dark Council, with a fully operational Sith government, what need does he have to concern himself with the minutia of governance?" The words flowed out easily, silkily smooth, as liquid flowed down one's throat, for him... it all came too easily, "As for the Empress..." If it was possible, his smile widened, "We have an understanding, after all, I serve her as loyally as knight would serve a queen, she will support our ventures, for she knows what I know to be true, what we all know to be true, that we serve at behest the Empire, and we serve for the good of the Empire." There was a hint of challenge in his tone, a challenge for them to deny anything that he said.

Then to Darth Tormenta, Darth Latens, and Helix, sweeping his feet through their motions, as he begin to pace the stage, "The rest of you raise compelling points, and I do wish to put your concerns to bed, I do not underestimate my foe, most of us would not have risen to where we are if we did, the beginnings of the assault are already in place, soon like the wind the arrival of the departing guests will bring with them news of what has transpired here today with my earlier speech, Jutrand's underground will learn that Darth Malum intends to root them out, they will seek to... as the expression is, move the body, that is when our agents will first strike, those of our brothers and sisters who have already infiltrated the cartels shall begin to assassinate all those of matter and import as they scramble to hide themselves, a scramble that will become chaos, as blood begins to flow. As Darth Tormenta then suggested, we will begin an arms embargo to choke out all those that remain, while those cartels allied with us will begin moving forth to take over territories lost to the chaos of our actions, these allied cartels united under a monopolistic entity that shall be overseen by the Tsis'Kaar." His gaze fell upon Lady Aivar specifically, her ambitions were hardly subtle, nor did her past actions make it difficult to predict that a larger slice of the pie... may be exactly what she desired... indeed, to have the pie entirely, perhaps it would be too much to resist.

"We remove the worst of the cancers, we work with who remains, we will not enforce militaristic discipline over them, but our oversight shall serve to protect our people, while the elimination of their competition to the aggrandisement of themselves shall be a prize they will be unable to resist... as indeed, Lieutenant Vax's agent spoke rightfully, they will become too reliant upon us to do anything else but serve at our pleasure, growing fat off the excess only allowed by our watch."

He concluded his pacing, turning back towards the gathering, "Yet, I do not claim myself omnipotent or omnscient, this is a campaign to be undertaken by not only I, but all of us, we shall undertake it as best our means and ability, and I trust your minds as much as I trust your blades, so, are there any other concerns to be raised?"

Kalzok Darth Callidus Darth Tormenta Zachariah Conway Adean Castor Commodore Helix Vulgarion Kadann Akhuul Sautra Trayze Tesar Zanami Pacificus Ansisa Tlaeger Reicher Vax Serina Calis Eira Dyn
Mentioned: Darth Empyrean Srina Talon

 

[Kalzok]

Tags: all

Spoiler: outfit

Amidst the torrent of words, the Dark Thaumaturge listened. Flanked by two guards of the Null 'Legion', the Sorcerer remained silent. Kalzok felt his tattered skin itch in the spirit-sight glare of Pacificus's irradiating glow, and he'd made sure to stay away, trying to absorb the information.

He had not been present for many of Darth Malum of House Marr 's newest plays- Kalzok found himself, in some ways, ill-suited to this new generation of Tsis'Kaar leadership. The vigor and focus required was lost to him, as the days ticked by, and the Sith found his body and soul slowly, irreversibly, discorporating. The past years had been spent amongst the Lorekeepers, reorganising, preserving and (where able) to expand their knowledge.

Knowledge.

Such a curious thing to see reflected again and again, in all aspects, in this gathering. The unliving relic that was Akhuul Sautra and the Commodore Helix , tangible links to the past. Reicher Vax and the Legions, operating in the half-mist of incomplete information, preparing to strike into the frontier. The entrance of Zachariah Conway , named Latens, too, was a display of knowledge and leverage. Kalzok did not know what to conclude from this- access to the lineage of Empyrean was clearly some level of insurance and a tool to exploit, but Eira Dyn had brought up the most important question: did the Emperor and Empress care?

Even this very meeting was a sharing of knowledge - to clear the air and set a course for the diminished but still formidable Tsis'Kaar. Kalzok noted with satisfaction that Ophidia had started something that outlived her, an idea that now lived in the minds of the Order.

The sussurating whispers of the masked figure of Serina Calis were the most intriguing to Kalzok- and in their words he saw the truest flash of the Tsis'Kaar come again. The power of the shadows, of the unseen serpent wrapped around the heart of the underworld, itself a hidden manifold dagger pointed at the bellies of the Order and its empire. Of the illusion of freedom and the freedom of the illusionist.

Yes. This was right. This was the way of the serpent.

The Lorekeeper was intrigued to hear Malum's response. Firm, but ultimately, acceding too much to the ideas of imperial orthodoxy. And ideas in the mind were the power of the Tsis'Kaar- at least, in the Thaumaturge's view. Such a ploy as to empower favoured cartels would only result in revealing the puppeteer to the gutter rats, it would ossify the new governors of the underworld, and it would tie the Tsis'Kaar into the draining minutiae of the underworld. Kalzok would know- much of his life had been attempting to interface with the black markets and hidden societies of the Galaxy in furtherance of the Sith and their knowledge.

He wished to speak, but would that change anything? Lord Malum has made his mind, and he was in agreement with many of those gathered- the many that formed the fist of the Tsis'Kaar, when the time came.

But still it ate at him. Was this fraternity best served as a fist? Was it best served by its catspaws being formed as fists?

He spoke then, a flutter of wind disturbing the tallies and talismans that preserved his body and robes.

"This one understands the necessity of keeping up appearances, as governors or to make a play for the empire, the need to show one's face in policing and striking at the chosen scapegoats amongst the underworld. Yet, this approach in playing favourites and forming a monopoly will, as you say, keep them dependent and complacent. But this one believes that is precisely the problem. They will not last- it is the competition that keeps them sharp, as we Sith all well know. Ossifying, the favoured cartels will fall to more ruthless groups, those with nothing to lose. Perhaps it will not be a group, but a hundred bleeds and cuts from mere thieves and forgers. Perhaps another group among the Sith Order will arm them.

"The Tsis'Kaar are not large enough, fast enough, or with enough knowledge to forestall such eventualities. We cannot be mired in pouring escalating resources into gang wars and alliances with our lessers. Moreover, that is not what we are. That is not our strength, to merely be... rentiers on the underworld. To think like a state. We are not the worms of the Emperor or the Demiurge."

A languid gesture at the general direction of Serina Calis .

"This one speaks with the wisdom of shadows. The only guaranteed control- one that we can exploit- is to control the lifeblood of the underworld. Sell and gift to all comers. Allow all to be dependent on us. By utility or leisure. Blasters, stims, information. Grown and nurtured, a bounty of killers and knowledge will flow back to us in the form of payment. And if needed, that chaos can be quickly erased by choking out supply, should public relations of governance matter- and far faster crippling than door-kicking raids and public executions, no matter how delectable they can be."

 

[Mariah of House Marr]

Spoiler: OOC Note:

Most of this is internal. Anything open is in or after the paragraphs with blue dialogue. A lot of this is also so I can keep track of stuff that's happened. Basically only right at the end.

So much to say from the many people here. She had to feel a twinge of something at the idea of sith freeing anyone from slavery though, a mixture of humor, and some remaining guilt at who she'd thrown her lot in with. And just how deeply. Far deeper she imagined than Malum could have known when he first brought her in.

Likewise, the idea of the sith as the servants was an unusual one for sure. Just who was he appealing to? Did sith really have the mindset to pretend the work of servants for long? True, to serve themselves they somewhat had to serve the empire too, but phrasing it that way seemed a bad judge of character. Then again, they were all here, all talking, so maybe she was the one who had misjudged it all. It would make sense. She wasn't truly used to sith company yet. He had more to say of course, including an aknowledgement of allied companies such as her own which she gave a grateful bow of the head to.

Then, there were the others. So many thoughts to share. Among them Akhuul Sautra , a peculiar creation and existence, which alone nearly distracted her from what he had to say. He had things to offer, including his criticisms. She narrowed her eyes but kept quiet. She had her own rather negative thoughts about someone so willing to speak so flippantly, when their 'empire' was already no more. Were it so strong, it would not have needed to fall and change. No empire ever lasted. Give the hutts a few generations, or a neti even a single generation, and they would exist before the birth of an age and past it's end. Empires were blinks in the span of time. What they served was what mattered.

Another, more silent, Zachariah Conway was present as well. She wasn't really familiar with this one. And wasn't sure she'd need to be. But she'd keep an eye on him at least for the duration of this.

Reicher Vax continued much as before in her thoughts. But it was still important, continuations of prior information. She wouldn't slight him that either. He had a job and he was doing it. Though she did feel her own thoughts about matters of the arcane. Those were where her ventures lay, and for some reason she didn't like the risk of even more eyes around her for them.

Serina Calis fit the idea of an arcanist type though with her words. Though mariah felt an interior scoff at needing to be lectured about knowledge being a rarer prize. Ever so grateful she'd already well barred her mind and feelings from others. She was venturing into the depths of knowledge in plenty. And she intended to continue doing so long into the future. Vague, almost threatening she was. She didn't like that. She liked her secrets where they lay. She didn't think they'd be uncovered and wielded against her, but she couldn't help but worry anytime it came up.

Mariah did make a little bit of a hissing noise of uncertainty between her teeth at doubt in response to Darth Tormenta though. She thought that it was awfully presumptuous to think they could somehow disarm a group known for hiding weapons or materials. Sure Malum had found her that way, but she'd gotten a little careless by then. And if it took nearly 70 years before you were genuinely out of your depth, that was still a good track record. She was right though, the results of this would be essentially impossible to predict. Foresee maybe not, the force often provided insight. But even that was an unclear issue at times. Even the most powerful sith didn't always see their end coming.

Eira Dyn raised a good political point as well, though again, Mariah remained silent on it. She hadn't adjusted yet to the politics anyway, and had no interest in making herself seem too interested that someone might see her as a potential rival anyway. Commodore Helix likewise had his concerns. Ah, and now Zachariah Conway spoke. He also made a good point about how the underworld can be bought, but of course, that wouldn't get rid of it really. Just help direct it.

Serina Calis again, and Mariah recognized a good adeptness about what she was saying, cause to Mariah. That was exactly how people like the hutts did so well. They ruled not by snuffing out profits or methods, but merely by garnering from them, and even aiding their subservients at times. There had been entire races who dedicated their existence to the Hutts for such reasons. Though Mariah wasn't entirely sure she could achieve such means. But recognizing them was important.

As malum came again, Mariah finally decided to raise a concern, "Darth Malum, You obviously have more experience in the assassination sector than I do, and politics, however, I'm concerned that that those specific methods will only create too many sects to keep track of. It's very easy for the underground to organize at their own volition. It simply changes the supply and demand, and their destinations, a bit once heads are put out of commission. But also opens avanues for newer people who don't want obligations the prior administration had. Chaos, yes, but they already live in some chaos. Though I otherwise wholeheartedly agree that submitting them is more effective than attempting to eradicate them."

There was another speaker too, Kalzok a being equally strange, perhaps more so, than the machinelike lord of before. He however offered an even more radical approach, than eradication. What almost sounded like total freedom to those enterprises. She was a little surprised, but wasn't yet willing to fault or agree with it aloud. There was some truth to it, but plenty of risk too. She'd rather keep silent, let the others sort it out. Avoid picking any fights.

Spoiler: equipment

dress
ITEMS:
mariahs-necklace (worn)
WEAPONS:
Initiation (lightsaber)

 

[Serina Calis]

The Populares
Location: Dorvalla.
Objective: Remind them.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Kalzok Darth Callidus Darth Tormenta Zachariah Conway Adean Castor Commodore Helix Vulgarion Kadann Akhuul Sautra Trayze Tesar Zanami Pacificus Ansisa Tlaeger Eira Dyn Darth Malum of House Marr

The Tsis'Kaar were never meant to be rulers of the dark—we were meant to be the darkness itself. Not the hand that guides, but the whisper that commands, the hunger that cannot be sated, the vice that no soul can resist. We do not govern. We do not plead. We consume, and in our shadow, all things kneel.
​

The silence was unbearable.

It slithered through the chamber, thick and oppressive, cloying at the lungs of those present, pressing against the walls like an unseen tide. Where once the air crackled with ambition, with hunger, with the raw, unchecked power of the Tsis'Kaar, now it lay stagnant—suffocated by caution, by analysis, by restraint.

Rot.

For all their cruelty, for all their sharp words and sharper knives, they had forgotten the essence of what they were.

Serina would remind them.

She moved, not abruptly, not forcefully, but with a slowness that commanded attention. A single step, so soft it should not have been heard, yet it echoed, threading through the silence like a whisper of something inevitable. The figure in the dark robe glided like a phantom, her presence unfurling, spreading, not merely through movement, but through the very air, through the unseen currents of the room itself.

And then—

A laugh.

Soft. Sultry. A ripple of sound that curled like smoke, brushing against the senses like the trace of unseen fingertips. It was not one laugh but many, layered like voices in a shadowed hall, a whisper that somehow reached into every ear, a phantom caress against every mind.

"Oh, how pitiful this is."

The words dripped from the air like honeyed venom, slow and deliberate, settling not just in the ears of those present, but beneath their skin, seeping into them, coiling in the spaces between breath and thought. And then—

"I had such high hopes, truly I did."

Her voice was warm now, indulgent, rich as the finest wine, yet cruel in its amusement.

"A gathering of the darkest minds. Of those who claim to wield the night itself. The serpents who slither between the stars, the unseen, the whispers that shape destiny."

A tsk-tsk, a sound delicate yet biting, a mother chastising a child. The darkness chastising the indecisive.

"And yet… look at you."

Another step, slow and deliberate, her hands clasped before her as though in patient observation. Her head tilted just so, like an artist regarding a flawed masterpiece, as if she were studying something broken. The mask betrayed nothing, its golden etchings shimmering faintly in the dim light, but the voice—it dripped with something dangerous. Something teasing. Something starved.

"Once, the Sith inspired fear with words alone. Once, the Tsis'Kaar were a name that brought men to their knees before they even knew why they were kneeling. And now?"

A slow inhale, deep and savored, as though she were tasting something forbidden.

"You argue over governance."

The last word dripped from her lips like acid, spoken with such disgust, such mocking disappointment, that it stung like a blade slipping between ribs.

The silence after was unbearable.

The room was hers now. She felt it—how their gazes shifted, how their bodies tensed, how the very darkness seemed to stir once more, drawn not by duty, not by allegiance, but by hunger.

"You speak of cartels, of supply lines, of regulations and oversight."

A chuckle, rich and decadent, but never kind.

"Tell me, my lords, my masters of shadow—when did we become so… small?"

She pivoted slowly, her hands spreading, her fingers long and delicate, as if welcoming them into an embrace that was both invitation and trap.

"When did we become keepers instead of devourers? When did we trade our serpentine cunning for the pettiness of bureaucrats?"

The words dripped with something unspoken—something taunting, something sinfully indulgent, like the soft scrape of nails across bare skin.

"Power is not maintained, dear ones. It is not kept, not safeguarded, not governed."

Her voice dipped lower, richer, taking on a purring cadence, like silk sliding over steel.

"It is taken."

The words settled into the chamber like poison, sinking deep, spreading, infecting.

"We do not manage criminals."

A pause. Her voice dropped, dark and knowing.

"We do not shelter them like frightened children."

A slow step forward.

"We do not sit in the dark and wait for power to come to us like karking street freaks waiting for a stare."

The words were deliberate. Insulting. Cutting.

She savored the way their minds recoiled—felt the sting of it, the way it sharpened their focus, peeled away the layers of civility and left behind something raw.

Good.

Now they were awake.

"What is crime, if not a symptom? What are smugglers, warlords, filth beneath our feet, if not the inevitable decay of weak rule?"

The air shivered with the weight of her words.

"And yet here you are, wondering how best to play with your little rotted toys."

A beat. A breath.

And then, a whisper—intimate, poisonous, brushing against their very souls.

"You should be asking—how do we replace them?"

Another step forward. The hem of her robe skimmed the floor, silent, fluid, as though she moved through water.

"We do not guide the underworld."

Her voice softened, turned to silk, to something almost tender.

"We become it."

Another pause. Another beat. Then, slow, indulgent, teasing—

"Do you remember, my Lords?"

She let the question linger, pressing against them like a heated breath against the nape of the neck.

"Do you remember what it means to seduce power? To conquer without lifting a blade? To make the strongest beg for a taste of the poison only we can offer?"

The whispers in her voice coiled through the room like velvet, brushing against skin, against nerves, against something deeper.

"If you wish to rule the underworld, you do not manage it, you do not police it—you become its greatest vice."

A soft, knowing hum.

"What is power, if not an addiction?"

She let the thought settle, let the implications linger, stretching out the anticipation like a taut wire ready to snap.

"Give them everything—until they cannot breathe without us. Until their every move, their every need, their every desire can only be sated with what we offer."

She exhaled, and it was almost a moan, a breath filled with longing, with promise, with hunger.

"Power is not seized by the hand—it is drawn into the mouth."

The silence was thick now, suffocating, electric. The room throbbed with something primal, something forgotten but not lost.

She stepped back, slow, deliberate, letting her shadow settle behind her once more. Letting the weight of her words coil around them, sink into their minds, take root.

"You have forgotten what it means to own the dark."

Her voice turned to a whisper again, a thousand voices speaking as one, curling around their thoughts like a lover's fingers beneath the chin.

"Or are you simply too weak to remember?"

And then—silence.

She did not need to say more.

 

[Darth Tormenta]

Khamesi waited for a few moments before smiling and laughing at the speech given by Serina Calis . She was never one to mince words herself, and while she did not agree with everything Serina said, the brutal, unrelenting honesty was refreshing in a room full of forked tongues and false smiles. There was just one problem, one Khamesi had to address. It was shortsighted, as so many Sith were. Besides their own infighting, it was the biggest reason, in Khamesi's mind, that the Jedi had triumphed over them time after time throughout history. Everything was just power to Sith, and while she did not disagree, most Sith disregarded soft power, prefering brutal hard power. So she added.

"There is just one problem. It is on the backs of the bureaucrats empires are made and unmade. We can conquer a thousand worlds, break the wills of the people there, and dominate every major center of power this galaxy has to offer. But it means nothing if we cannot profit from that power. I have spent years worming my way through the black markets and gangs of the outer rim. I have crushed those that oppose me, elevated those that support me, and destroyed those that disgust me."

She paused, tapping her finger pointedly on the now-metal arm she has to wear. A reminder that sometimes, even a dying, desperate force can get one good bite in. Not that it hadn't been worth it, but that was a different matter.

"We are Sith. We are masters of power, of conquest, of force. But you know what all the most succesful leaders of the Sith have in common? They know how to manage, not just dominate. That is the greatest weakness of us all, we grab for more power before we have total control of what we already have. But, Serina is not wrong. Not wholly at least. If we are to actually accomplish any of the lofty goals that have been spoken of today, we must not be overly cautious. "

She narrowed her eyes as she continued to speak.

"But once we have that control, we need to actually use what it gives us. Not just relish in the power we gained. So many of you relish in victory, lavish yourselves in riches and power, but use almost none of it. If we are to control the underworld, it must be used for more than just money and prestige."

Khamesi pulled a page from Dima's book as she finished her thoughts, though she phrased it far differently than her lover would.

"We hunt their leadership, seize everything they have, and use them for what they were always meant to be. Our weapons. You only need look at my fleet to know that even a band of misfits and scum can be made into warriors and conquerers with the right hands directing them. They will be our soldiers in the shadows, sabatoging our enemies, and lining our pockets. Credits we do not simply sit on, we use them to expand our might, to turn the weak willed to our cause, and to take the gluttons from their thrones."

She left it at that. She was no weaver of words, no temptress, nor diplomat. She was a warlady, and Sith Lord. She was more patient than many Sith, but there was one fault with the gathering here, it was that they were to...timid. It was one thing to be patient, it was another to be some secret council playing at ruling, instead of truly taking power. If they wanted the underworld, then she would take it, and turn them into proper weapons to be wielded. Not simply some vague promise of richs and power. She would turn them on their rivals, and they would leave naught but Ash in their wake.

For true Dragons did not simply sleep on some horde, they were living conduits of strength and power. And when the time was right, those very same weapons would turn on those that opposed Khamesi, not just the Tsis'kaar. She would not be denied her seat of power, not even by those that claimed to be her ally. Until then they would be soldiers of the Tsis'kaar. And so long as the Tsis'kaar was worthy of her service, they would remain true.

 

[Akhuul Sautra]

Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr Serina Calis Darth Tormenta Kalzok Mariah of House Marr Commodore Helix Pacificus Darth Callidus Zanami Ansisa Reicher Vax Eira Dyn Adean Castor Trayze Tesar Zachariah Conway Vulgarion Kadann Tlaeger
Location: Cleaned up Tunnels, Dorvalla
Equipment: In Bio

Wrath and Spite.

Those were the words that characterized much of what this assemblage has turned into. Such was the way of a culture where rage, fear, and passion are held in reverence. I did not complain though. From a perch in the shadows along the periphery of the crowds that I retreated to after my initial address, it was a grand spectacle. Truly, it would be something I would request the Scribes on Sautra Vokh to regale me with eons from now with the sheer entertainment this has brought me.

Those two things, wrath and spite, produce spectacular entertainment.

The greatest of these came from one seemingly known as Serina. It is true, Darth Malum's speech was as well executed as the others I have heard from him. However, I could feel the passion and rage from that woman chastising the room. It was like a delectable meal for the vestiges of my soul as I felt the sensation of such emotion in the air. It was possibly the closest feeling I had to being "filled" since leaving my flesh behind all those thousands of years ago.

Such a speech was what I was drawn to this organization for. I cared not for the politics of these mortals around me. It was the preservation of Sith culture I sought after, that I have made myself occupied with for all time as far as I saw. It was the fact this organization was not hampered and hamstrung by the politics of mortals. I could see the Scion of Marr's logic for gaining power through playing the political game. Yet, then if one plays politics, they lose the game in the shadows. It was the long game I came here for. I doubted the surrounding mortals' patience, but it seemed sentiments close enough could be found.

While one who has grown ties with the criminal syndicates spoke, my digital consciousness also recalled remarks made by another who seemed to have similar sentiments. One spoke now of power and exercising it in more than just brute force. The other regaled "wisdom of shadows" which was something I ought to incorporate in my lectures to those initiates on Korriban. Indeed, the Sith were fewer than the scum of the galaxy. Eliminating them would bleed resources dry. Therefore, leave little space for any culture to be preserved. Both seemed to agree on ends but not the means. That the Sith render the criminals obsolete. One suggests to cut the heads off and sew on new Sith heads, while the other cuts the legs out from beneath the heads and letting the body bleed slowly and painfully. I would nod as if listening to the two points at once. One the current situation, the other a replayed memory from the data storage sections.

Probabilities were being calculated. Success was certainly more possible when not policing them. Calculations for playing the games of politics and success were not optimal. "Being the darkness", as the chastiser said, had a greater optimal probability. A whirring sound from the mechanisms of my neck was heard in the immediate vicinity where I stood as my head jolted back from calculations. My digitized mind in the full present once more.

"I am pleased to hear voices of patience.", I said in the ancient tongue emerging from the periphery once more, "Your goals are lofty Scion of Marr. Be wary to not lose sight of what has gotten this den of serpents this deeply entrenched. I have knowledge and ancient wisdom. I have reverence to the ways that all you mortals' forefathers put into place for you all to stand here." I gestured my clawed free hand around me while standing with artificially perfect posture. "Since I promised knowledge, I will give some more publicly here. Ask yourselves why all those Empires of the Sith, or those who claimed to be Sith, fell. It was not the Jedi and other barbarians from the Core. Those were mere vultures who smelled the stink of decaying flesh, and leapt at the meal presented in the Caldera. It was not weakness of the Sith's ranks, as we are unshackled with power. It was not philosophy, as the tenants of the Sith ways have allowed us to survive against the deeds of those aforementioned barbarians.

I would pause a moment and bask in the brief limelight. Even though they were older, and more wizened than an acolyte at the academy, all ought to still be students. "The Empires of Sith fell because we stooped down to the level of politicians. We no longer were beings of raw power that the Sith code says we are to be. We became bureaucrats, diplomats, and creatures of civil service. We are not meant to play the games of mortals despite assumably all of you being mortals yourselves. How are we to be puppet masters if we are attaching strings to ourselves? We will never win playing games at the level of our rivals and enemies. We must transcend them. Of course, now was the time for a solution, but oh how enjoyable it was to be one of the hands that pushed history along. "What the Scion of Marr proposes makes for the perfect veneer to our nature. Let us use it as a mask so they think we play their games. Yet, we must never let it become our nature. As it was said, we shall be the darkness. Yet I say, let us be darkness so deep that our enemies and rivals can only scratch the surface of what lurks in the abyss. We will win unshackled, and by enslaving those who oppose us either by putting them in true chains or by chaining their minds."

I would pace back to the periphery before one more remark, "Heed the words of your elder who has witnessed the history you revere. You may have raw power, yet this assembly shows that we are not all truly aware of where to direct it. Unshackle yourselves from mortal folly." With that, I slunk back to the shadows to observe. Though, I was visible enough to have any retorts directed at me, it was enough to allow someone else to have attention. As far as I saw it though, my lesson to the Tsis'Kaar has only begun.