Months of planning. A year, even – the young, grey skinned woman had been gathering people far before she was brought into the world of the Sith.
Darth Vitium’s Apprentice stood on the deck of the Jen’Midwan, hands clasped behind her back as she observed the surface of Rhelg – ancient planet of the Sith, former home of the Lord Ludo Kressh’s fortress. Surrounding her flagship, if one could call a light freighter a flagship, was a flock of other, similar ships. Ten in total, and together they contained one hundred of the most grief stricken and unstable souls in the Galaxy.
And that night, if all went according to plan, every last one of them would die, sacrificing themselves in the ultimately vain hope of reaching an afterlife that didn’t truly exist.
The Apprentice nearly shook with anticipation, but on some level, she was utterly calm. This was where she belonged. In power. In control. She had the lives of a hundred men and women in her grasp. And the best part – they were ignorant of it. They believed her a savior, a metaphorical angel sent from the beyond to bless them with her wisdom and kindness. Some part of her wanted to experiment, to see how far she could push them. You, kill your sister. Yes, I know you love her. Do it anyway. A small, uncharacteristically feminine giggle escaped her at the thought.
The Acolyte shook her head, taking a deep breath. She had to appear solemn, calm and in control for this. A few quick strokes at the keyboard in front of her, and her voice and image were broadcasting to every ship on the same frequency. “Brothers and sisters,” she paused, to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her tone was raw, emotional, and utterly fake – not that you could tell unless you knew her. “It’s time. Head down to the surface. You all know the coordinates. My companion and I will be there to finalize the ritual. My only regret is that I can’t join you all on this last journey of ours. It breaks my heart, but I know what has to be done. One day, perhaps, I’ll join you all…but I have more work to do in the Galaxy.”
Grief, protest, and applause all followed her finishing statement, at which she quickly shut off the comm system, ostensibly to prevent her flock from seeing her cry. In truth, however, as soon as communications were down, all she could do was grin. This was far too easy.
“Kasa!” She yelled towards the cockpit of her ship, her raw and emotional voice replaced by one that was distressingly upbeat and chipper for what its owner was about to do. “Land the ship near the site. We’ve got work to do."
[SIZE=10pt]---[/SIZE]
[member="The Rusted Queen"]
Darth Vitium’s Apprentice stood on the deck of the Jen’Midwan, hands clasped behind her back as she observed the surface of Rhelg – ancient planet of the Sith, former home of the Lord Ludo Kressh’s fortress. Surrounding her flagship, if one could call a light freighter a flagship, was a flock of other, similar ships. Ten in total, and together they contained one hundred of the most grief stricken and unstable souls in the Galaxy.
And that night, if all went according to plan, every last one of them would die, sacrificing themselves in the ultimately vain hope of reaching an afterlife that didn’t truly exist.
The Apprentice nearly shook with anticipation, but on some level, she was utterly calm. This was where she belonged. In power. In control. She had the lives of a hundred men and women in her grasp. And the best part – they were ignorant of it. They believed her a savior, a metaphorical angel sent from the beyond to bless them with her wisdom and kindness. Some part of her wanted to experiment, to see how far she could push them. You, kill your sister. Yes, I know you love her. Do it anyway. A small, uncharacteristically feminine giggle escaped her at the thought.
The Acolyte shook her head, taking a deep breath. She had to appear solemn, calm and in control for this. A few quick strokes at the keyboard in front of her, and her voice and image were broadcasting to every ship on the same frequency. “Brothers and sisters,” she paused, to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her tone was raw, emotional, and utterly fake – not that you could tell unless you knew her. “It’s time. Head down to the surface. You all know the coordinates. My companion and I will be there to finalize the ritual. My only regret is that I can’t join you all on this last journey of ours. It breaks my heart, but I know what has to be done. One day, perhaps, I’ll join you all…but I have more work to do in the Galaxy.”
Grief, protest, and applause all followed her finishing statement, at which she quickly shut off the comm system, ostensibly to prevent her flock from seeing her cry. In truth, however, as soon as communications were down, all she could do was grin. This was far too easy.
“Kasa!” She yelled towards the cockpit of her ship, her raw and emotional voice replaced by one that was distressingly upbeat and chipper for what its owner was about to do. “Land the ship near the site. We’ve got work to do."
[SIZE=10pt]---[/SIZE]
[member="The Rusted Queen"]