TAG:
Mercy
+ [Open]
LOCATION: The Ferocity [Near Planet Tion]
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"I have been thinking of Tion…"
Her words were for the Dark Councilors…Though she didn't speak to any of them individually. It would plant the seeds of where her thoughts had gone, anticipating, the next crusade. She brushed delicately past the one of the few Sepulchral who didn't summarily loathe her existence and her empty expression would relay nothing. Darth Caedes would have felt differently, however, perhaps, even sensed through the painted mask that left her serene.
"I have been thinking…Of how it might have missed me...It would be cruel of me to deny it much longer."
A pause.
"Do you not agree?"
What use did she have for Imperial trash?
The wintry Empress of the Sith Order was silent while watching the minor planet of Tion grow in the distance. Most of her children would be focused on the practical purpose of claiming shipyards while wiping out swindling
Faithless resistance.
The Ferocity cut through velvet space like a knife while the Second Legion moved in silence. True to form…She had not hidden her plain intention to visit Tion in the near future. Her Dark Councilors were well aware of the monstrous shape her wrath could take and had wisely coordinated movement with the Mandalorian Empire before she could take matters into her own hands. Her patience had grown thin.
The vessel that
Isley Verd
had gifted her when she had been new to Force and this galaxy was among her favored treasures. It wasn't as flashy as the warships she had created for the Mandalorian Empire but there was something timeless about it. It had been built to last, fast, powerful, and it held the same quiet certainty that Srina preferred in herself. There was no wasted motion and no excess of visual noise…Only the inevitability of arrival. All around them, the battle had already begun, with some of the shipyards burning in slow collapsing spirals.
She didn't bother with them.
They had no value.
There was
nothing that existed with former Imperial territory that would benefit her Empire more than what they could create themselves. Certainly, they could use it for salvage…But she didn't find any value in utilizing something an enemy had left behind. Not when there could be back-door codes that would allow Imperial remnants access, likely, as some kind of "gotcha" when they "least expected it" from what should have been a dead carcass.
It was pathetic how swiftly their enemies broke when victory was naught but a dream.
Tion did not glow the way the battlefield did, not yet, merely existing as a perfect marble in the ruin of its orbit. Srina stood near the viewport with one had resting lightly against cool transparisteel. Black and gold silk fell in clean, deliberate lines along her frame, with runes laying dormant. She had no need to hide her presence. This was not war. This was...
A walk. A long, long walk.
The faint scent of jasmine and rain lingered, soft and unnatural, against the sterile air of the command deck. Everything was quiet within the Ferocity, almost peaceful, in comparison to the hell these worlds would soon endure. Srina had no quarrel with them individually. It was the yoke of Faithless scum that would see them burn because their witless masters had turned their eyes toward what belonged to her.
They had injured and killed her children.
Bombed and burned her world, wounding, her young Psilofyr…Who knew not why, he burned.
This was a response to those actions, warranted, or not. It would seem like overkill to target so many planets at once. It was. It was an extraordinary response to the body fighting a virus and excising it with extreme prejudice. The
Faithless in all forms, all of their dirty cousins, were a blight.
Blights deserved to burn.
Mercurial eyes pulled from Tion when she felt the air shift behind her. The diminutive woman didn't need to turn or look to know that
Mercy
approached. She could feel the much larger woman and her hand moved from the window, raised, waiting, for it to be taken. Her battle-sister had been strangely silent during this venture, or, overly loud. This battle seemed to have more weight to it but the Empress of the Blackwall wasn't quite certain where it came from. There was much of Mercy's history that was…Blurred. Perhaps, not deliberately hidden—But cut away.
"The shipyards will either be taken by the Legion…Or they will fall."
The words would feel less like information and more like a sword falling on the neck of a fallen foe. It was damning, hungry, and full of fury for the sins the Faithless had dared to perpetuate. Alabaster skin would seem almost translucent when her teeth ground together and the line of her jaw sharpened. She was aware of the hypocrisy—But cared little for it. Her fingers would curl around the much larger hand of the Titan of Coruscant once her hand was accepted… Taking another, long, slow look at Tion.
"…Shall I destroy it for you?"
