Private The Springtime of Nations

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Alvaria was beautiful.

There was a breeze in the air, one that wafted through hair and brushed against one's skin with a weight that one stood at attention. All married beneath the rays of sunlight, bearing down from clear, if still cloudy, skies above. There was little threat of rain, which was part paramount of the reason that he had gathered them all outside this fine day. The first chills of winter were felt, but winter had not yet come, even as the leaves of the trees above them whistled their end, their leaves having turned a brilliant orange, their death knolls sounding.

There was bias in his view he supposed, after all, he did rule Alvaria, and held a connection to it that went far beyond that of simple rule. Sat upon the chair, the long table laid out before them, filled high with plates of finger food, sandwiches, skewers, and rolls, while chalices were filled high to the brim with wine, juices, and water. Sat upon the chair, he could not help but wonder if those of his blood sat here once, gazing upon the end of fall, to the embrace of the snows, feeling the coldness of the wind whip against their face, with only joy, that it was not the unending beating of the heat to cause sweat upon their brow.

There was bias in his view no doubt, there was a history to the courtyard gardens that he had gathered them all today, for Alvaria held a beauty that was felt by few but felt ever keenly by him, a serenity, a calm, a familiarity that was nigh impossible to find anywhere else. Alvaria might not have been his first home, after all, he was born on Jutrand, and spent most of his life there, after all they said when he was but a boy, Dromund Kaas had been his home...

...But he did not remember Kaas, and Jutrand... the polluted skies that concealed the entire galaxy.

Where here, if he gazed to the moon, he would actually see it, dream of its magnificence, as its lupine influence lulled him into a sweet sleep...

...If only his mind was not so broken, that sleep so often was stolen away from him. His bed, lying empty, as his heart fell to twisting daggers, and... simple tragedy.

But there was little time for those thoughts now, awakening himself from his thoughts to the chatter of private conversation, he rose from his commanding seat, he was armoured, yet, his pose relaxed. Ready for war, but his blade still sheathed. The masked man sent a signal to all those gathered here, to the purpose of their gathering, gazing upon all their masked faces, he knew each and one well, or at least well enough, but for this moment, as was the way of the Tsis'Kaar, they could not be sure.

None could be sure.

Certainty was the enemy of shadows.

"I thank you all for gathering here today, I have spoken to each of you privately at various times about the problems that plague us, and I believe, today, we shall make firm headway on what it is we need to accomplish for the Order," His gaze fell towards the droid, and the masked face of his blood, "Helix Solutions and MarrTech shall be fundamental in our efforts, it is thus my opinion as is the way of the Assembly, that the companies gain seats upon the Assembly, I imagine none of our fellow Governors here shall disagree?" He spoke, red eyes glancing at those assembled, their defeat in the last vote had stung... but it mattered little if he could turn it to their advantage.

...If he could bring more seats onside, and indeed, in this instance, make seats.

"But beyond that, these companies, along with the resources gathered here from our respective and Tsis'Kaar worlds, must go to the construction of the Third, a Legion that shall not operate as the ruthless sword of the first, or the brutal hammer of the Second, but as as silent vicious dagger, we shall require new classes of warships to accomplish that task, it is to pursue this matter, that is most fundamental." For a fleet of technologically advanced constructs, might give them the edge, against the overwhelming number of hulls and guns of their enemy, an enemy that still relied on vessels that were approaching decades of age and design, it might be exactly what they needed.

That... and the Mors Vistra.

An annoyance by his brow reminded him of the latest humiliation, as to the opposite end of the table sat another, one which certainly did not belong to their cadre, "And, as a show of faith to our glorious Emperor, I would like to introduce you all to Allyson Locke, she shall serve as the... representative of His Imperial Majesty at this meeting, and within the Tsis'Kaar, I expect you shall all to show her proper treatment, and that His Imperial Majesty shall be reassured that we have nought but loyalest intention for our Empire."

He offered forth his glass in her direction before he took his seat, a reminder too, to those particularly boisterous amongst them, that they were in the presence of... that kind of company.

And so the meeting would begin.

Reicher Vax Commodore Helix Mariah of House Marr Darth Strosius Zachariah Conway Darth Fury Allyson Locke Serina Calis

 

[Mariah of House Marr]

Mariah's investment into technology had gone well thus far, while her company itself had produced relatively few new inventions. Especially recently, bringing back her old ones under a formal name. As well as her work to aid in the amphibious routes the House of Marr could now exact with more ease had proven fruitfull. And she did intend to work on more new designs, eventually. Though she'd discovered that the droid counterpart was likely going to always out-manufacture her. It would be better to focus on specialized technologies, or those relating to the force.

It was obviously this business combined with her family name, that had gotten her any attention at all. She had grown immensely in knowledge, but never took the front seat in any real battle. Opting to remain, in essence, a noble sith. Aiding by money and knowledge in technology and the force, not as a powerhouse. Though she was working on solutions for that route too.

So she also dressed her part, in a dark red and black dress, with a waist of gold. One of her twin lightsabers, the Initiation, at her hip. Her necklace worn. But unlike how she used to be. She opted not to carry her blaster or assortment of offensive and defensive tech around. Not on her anyway. White-6, known as Arana, was available not too far away for her to be summoned with her equipment if need be. Either for the need of violence, or simply convenience.

Finally, Darth Malum of House Marr spoke. The boy had gained so much power and influence, it was truly impressive. It was also, now that she had become a member of House Marr, amusing how terrified she'd been at the initial meeting. Back when she was as mortal as everyone else. She smiled in response to his reference of Mariah and Helix's businesses.

His next lines were effort though, new warships. That would be a challenge for her. She rarely put effort into things that large, the Thranta Motherships were by far the biggest things she'd ever put herself to build. She did, however, already have some ideas. But they weren't really for ships. Not exactly. Those too however would likely not fit the needs he was aiming for. On the upper side of size, he may have to lean more on Helix she considered. But time would tell.

There was another, she looked over as he pointed out Allyson Locke , she gave the woman a polite smile and nod of her head before returning to Malum. "On the issue of warships, I don't specialize that well in the larger types. The motherships I designed were good I think, but they are in essence a generalist amphibian carrier ship. I can often handle smaller types such as fighters, or likely gunships. Besides that my company is still working it's way up, so creating true warships such as star destroyers is still a venture. Helix Solutions may be better suited for the large scale vessels. Though I should be capable of producing custom designs."

Spoiler: equipment/outfit

Mask:

dress

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

 

[Darth Strosius]

There was nothing harsh at all about the day, no great looming clouds, a sun that could barely be considered scorching, a breeze that didn't chill the bones, it was all so reprehensibly simple. There was no threat from the environment nor any possibility of one given the conditions, to the extent that they had even all gathered outside of all places for a meeting. It was far too idyllic today on Alvaria, to the point of making His skin crawl.

How did people live like this?

Darth Strosius fished a flask out of His robes and made only the slightest attempt to hide it as He poured a dark crimson liquid that tinged the air with a slight metallic scent into His recently emptied glass, the straw stuck down in it swirling with the addition of the new beverage. Normally He was content drinking whatever was offered at these sorts of things but the headache from the peaceful conditions of the day was already starting to set in and He needed something to take the edge off.

It was slightly comical seeing the masked man sipping from His wine glass through a straw, the implement slotting in through the bottom of His mask without any need for removal of the visage. A skill that He had evidently perfected given how quickly He drained the glass of its contents. Again. Malum's address did provide a nice distraction from the weather at least, even if His grip on the glass did cause a slight crack when the other Sith mentioned their apparent guest.

What was the point of having these little gatherings if they had agents of the corpse around to listen? He had traveled all the way from outside Sith space for nothing but a glorified picnic it seemed. This meeting could have been a holocall.

Stuffing down His irritation and resisting the urge to stare daggers, mostly due to debating who to stare at between the host and the new guest, He refocused Himself as one of the other guests spoke up regarding the topic of warships. At least they could get the simple affairs taken care of He supposed. "The Shikkar-class Corvettes will be of little issue for my Sanguine Defense Works to produce, as well as any warship from the Inquisition's catalogue." He paused to take one final sip from His glass before setting it aside.

"Once the Kissai have reached full production they can help bulk out the starfighter compliments as well. The only concern I have is regarding output." Darth Strosius idly gestured towards the mostly clear sky. "My shipyards are few and minor, if you want an armada worthy of a Legion then we will need access to proper shipyards and those are only found on a handful of worlds in Sith space. Seswenna would be the perfect world to provide for everything a Third Legion would need. And would give plenty of room for research and development of new vessels as well."

Darth Malum of House Marr / Reicher Vax / Mariah of House Marr / Zachariah Conway / Darth Fury / Allyson Locke / Serina Calis / Commodore Helix

 

[Darth Fury]

Springtime of Nations
Alvaria

Equipment: Robes, Armor, Lightsaber

Darth Fury sat awkwardly at the table. He wore his robes to this meeting and his helmet from his armor with the hood over. He wasn't sure why they were all concealing themselves if they planned to work together in the future but he would never question the choice of anonymity.

The planet itself was beautiful. The weather was perfect and the scenery almost classified this place as a resort world.

He hated it.

It was obvious he had tension within himself as his hands were placed on the end of the table, red eyes behind his mask searching each and every person in attendance. This was a rare sight outside of the Assembly or a battlefield. So he would enjoy it's intentions. Though he was ever so excited to talk shop about their own ventures and how they planned to build this 'Third Legion'. Something that greatly interested him.

As Darth Malum of House Marr made the opening address, Fury switched his gaze to look down the table and at the head of it. His words definitely did not bring any worry from Fury. He and other Governors were already in the process of getting more of them among their number. A few extra seats would only benefit everyone involved. Especially when he negotiated for a share of said companies as the price of his vote. But that was for another time.

His cold and calculating gaze, still hidden behind his helmet, locked onto Allyson Locke and judged her presence. No doubt the Emperor had concerns for their lot and wished to get reports first hand rather than through hearsay. That was concerning in of itself. Fury intended to task some of his agents with finding out just how concerned their leadership was. Though he was a recent inductee he did not want to get blindsided by power moves between the Dark Council and the Emperor. Still, he would watch his words carefully with that one present.

As two people he hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet spoke, Fury no doubt was eager to offer up his own holdings in assistance. The more companies of his fellow Tsis'kaar operating on his world only improved his standing and monetary gain. And his planets. The more the merrier.

Waiting until they had finished making their opening comments, he followed suit.

"I do believe I can aid in those efforts. My planets industrial capacity is only waiting to be realized and I have already personally invested in the construction of many shipyards built and to be built in orbit. If there are any here with the resources to offer, I would no doubt be grateful in hastily moving the project along." Fury looked around the table as he spoke, making indirect eye contact through his helmet with his distorted voice masking everything about him. "Once it's full potential is realized, I would welcome a production list from any of you. That includes establishing offices for any of your companies or any other structures that may be required."

It all made sense. Though Fury abstained from speaking on how much said agreements would benefit himself he no doubt knew that was only obvious.

They were Sith after all.

​

 

[Zachariah Conway]

Location: Hologram
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Strosius | Darth Fury | Mariah of House Marr
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet
​

His blue form shimmered into existance.

Whilst not able to be present in person, the Tsis'Kaar's newest Sith Knight had still attended the meeting none the less by using hologram technology. He was tied up with other matters across the galaxy, yet he knew his presence would be expected by Darth Malum of House Marr . So Darth Latens presence at the meeting would be as a blue hologram in the corner. Not ideal, but it worked.

"No-one is doubting how much Helix Solutions and MarrTech support the duties of the Tsis'Kaar" he acknowleged, having only caught half of the conversation. He had decided that he hadn't been late, he was intead fashionably making an entrance.

"Their votes on the assembly would indeed serve to further the Tsis'Kaar agenda through the reach of the Imperial Party" the Sith Knight admitted, his voice masked by his helm. "Certainly, no-one can deny that Commodore Helix earned his right to sit on the assembly after his heroics on Woostri"

Latens smiled under his helm. Commodore Helix had visited Jutrand alongside the grandson of Empyrean and had been offered any reward within the Empire for his services and had opted for a "well done". It was a choice that was very human from the droid.

"The reach of the Tsis'Kaar expands further than just the Imperial Party however" he noted. "Lord Malum suggests his intentions to build up the Third Legion, commanded at the behest of the Tsis'Kaar" he spoke softly, pausing briefly.

"Unfortunately, I have nothing to offer in relation to building ships. I leave that speciality to my peers around the table" he gestured softly to the table. "I may be able to offer bodies however, a commanding officer for these fleets that we seek to build"

His eyes finally cast to Allyson Locke and he said little in relation to her.

They would have their own conversation.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Zachariah Conway
Darth Fury
Darth Malum of House Marr
Commodore Helix
Mariah of House Marr
Allyson Locke
Darth Strosius
Serina Calis

The holo-image of Reicher Vax flickered into existence, a spectral blue silhouette seated in the same poised, disciplined posture as if he were physically present among them. His presence in these gatherings was not uncommon, but today, there was something different about his tone—measured, firm, and assured. The assembled Sith Lords and corporate magnates of the Tsis'Kaar had spoken of ambitions, of warships, and of industry, but now it was time to make those words into something tangible. And as ever, Reicher was a man of results.

"Darth Malum. Esteemed Lords and Ladies, the esteemed Allyson Locke, representing our Emperor's interests." his crimson gaze swept across the table through the shimmering interface, nodding with the respect expected of him. "You have spoken of building the Third Legion, not as a blunt instrument of war, but as a sharpened blade, poised to strike in the places where our enemies are most vulnerable. I have listened, as I always do. And so, it is my pleasure to inform you that the necessary infrastructure has been put in place on Polis Massa."

He let the words settle for a moment before continuing, his voice carrying an unshakable certainty.

"The planetoid itself was already suited for this task—stable, secure, strategically positioned beyond the primary hyperspace lanes yet close enough to our logistical arteries. I have arranged for a large and stable workforce, vetted and conditioned, prepared to begin construction of the shipyards at your discretion. These are not the aimless rabble you find on industrial worlds—this is a workforce trained in orbital construction, drawn from the most efficient labor pools available within and outside the Empire's borders."

He leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled before him.

"The financial element, as I suspect some of you may be wondering, is already secured. I have acquired significant investment from the Trade Federation, far beyond what was initially projected. Their interest in our success is considerable, though their reasons remain their own. Regardless, the credits flow freely, and we should use them while we have the chance."

He let that statement hang in the air, understanding that Sith minds were already calculating.

"A shipyard unlike any other in our domain. One that does not simply maintain our fleets, but creates them. One capable of rapidly developing and producing the specialized warships necessary for the Third Legion. If our enemies rely on old designs and outdated tactics, then we will rewrite the doctrine of naval warfare."

His gaze swept across the gathering once more, locking onto Darth Malum.

"You called this meeting to discuss a path forward. I am here to tell you that the foundation has already been laid. What remains is your decision: Will we begin construction?"

His hands unclasped, resting lightly on the table before him. He had spoken his piece, and now, he watched the Sith Lords of the Tsis'Kaar as they contemplated the weight of what had just been handed to them. A free investment, a ready workforce, and an infrastructure already prepared—this was not merely an opportunity. It was an inevitability waiting for their command.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Death Eater's Meeting //:

Hearing the introduction, Allyson realized she was late and was trying her best to sneak in. Her boots barely made a sound against the cold, polished floor, but they still made enough sound that the group of masked figures suddenly paid her attention. She winced. This was never a good sign. Her instinct told her to retreat, but she was already there. Instead, Allyson continued to walk, trying to figure out what the whole mask deal was.

Slowly finding her seat, she slipped in and stared back at the masks. Had she missed the memo? Was this group one of those groups? Was this a cult? Allyson covered her mouth as her brow furrowed in confusion. Why did they keep saying her name? The reason for the chaos was that people were constantly looking at her and nodding.

Maybe she was to be sacrificed to their weird Sith god?

Allyson clamped down on her wandering thoughts. She wasn't going to let them go any further. Nope. Not today, brain. Not today. Awkwardly, she raised her hand with a little wave and remained silent. Hopefully, this meeting was quick and easy, and she could escape before they started getting weird.

The need to blend in started to take hold. A hand reached into her pocket and rummaged through it to find exactly what she needed: a fake mustache. Slowly, Allyson sunk into her seat peeled the backing off and pressed the cheap, scratchy thing onto her upper lip. Allyson then crossed her arms and pretended like she completely fit in.

Silence washed over the group; people shifted in their seats, and somewhere in the back, someone coughed.

This was fine. She was blending in.

Everything. Was. Fine.
​

Spoiler: Tags

Darth Malum of House Marr Reicher Vax Mariah of House Marr Zachariah Conway Darth Fury Commodore Helix Darth Strosius Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

The Springtime of Nations.
Location: Alvaria
Objective: Survive the meeting.
Allies: Reicher Vax
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Malum of House Marr Zachariah Conway Darth Fury Commodore Helix Mariah of House Marr Allyson Locke

"Reicher can deal in the practical, I am busy playing a deeper game."​

Serina had remained silent through most of the meeting, her presence more of a shadow than a true participant. She sat toward the far end of the table, her posture poised but relaxed, listening rather than speaking. The discussion of warships, shipyards, and funding intrigued her—power always did—but these were matters that concerned the Sith more than her. She was not Sith. Not truly.

Her fingers rested lightly on the polished surface before her, gloved hands tracing the edge of a chalice she had yet to sip from. The wine inside was untouched. It was more a prop than anything else, something to occupy her hands as she observed.

The others had their roles to play—the architects of war, the merchants of death, the masked manipulators of the Tsis'Kaar. But Serina? She existed in the liminal space between them, neither entirely within nor apart. She was a whisper in the Force, a presence felt but not always seen, a melody drifting through the darkness rather than the hammering drums of conquest.

And then she arrived.

Allyson Locke.

Serina's attention snapped toward the woman the moment she entered, her crimson gaze, hidden behind her mask, locking onto the newcomer with a precision that was both unsettling and inquisitive. This woman—clearly unmasked and exposed—had an air about her that made Serina's lips curl behind the smooth veneer of her own faceless disguise.

Allyson fidgeted. Hesitated. Scrutinized the masks.

And then, in an act that defied all sense of reason, she pulled out a fake mustache and pressed it to her lip.

Serina blinked once.

Then twice.

Her fingers, delicately placed on her goblet, tightened, resisting the urge to shatter the fragile thing between them.

Across the table, she could sense the ripple of unease from the other Sith. A cough. A shift in chairs. The weight of a hundred unspoken thoughts.

A single, slow exhale escaped Serina's lips as she leaned forward, just enough to close the space between them. Then, in a voice smooth as silk and edged with an almost teasing whisper, she spoke.

"I do not believe that will be enough to fool them, dear."

The words barely left her lips, hushed and intimate, as if meant solely for Allyson's ears. Serina's tone carried an unmistakable lilt of amusement, a sultry hum that danced between genuine intrigue and quiet mockery.

Slowly, her fingers lifted from the chalice, ghosting through the air as if tracing the lines of the ridiculous mustache Allyson had donned.

"Though, I must admit... I admire your boldness."

She leaned back, her posture languid, composed. Beneath the mask, she smiled, unseen yet undeniably present in the way she carried herself.

"Tell me, are you always this... resourceful?"

Her voice was softer now, playful, but beneath the flirtation was a sharp edge of curiosity. Who was this woman? Why was she here? And more importantly... did she know how utterly out of place she looked?

Serina already felt like an outsider amongst the Sith. But Allyson? Allyson was something else entirely.

And Serina was fascinated.

 

[Commodore Helix]

Objective: Enjoy the weather.
Tags: Darth Strosius / Darth Malum of House Marr / Zachariah Conway / Darth Fury / Allyson Locke / Mariah of House Marr / Serina Calis​

Helix had never been fond of meetings. He was a creature of action, more than happy to lead from the front lines. He wished he were there right now.

He stared disdainfully out at the world, having shifted his molecular structure to resemble, in about every way that mattered, a robed humanoid figure. His chest rose and fell with artificial breath, and he'd even gone so far as to form a heart within himself, should any be able to sense such a thing. He'd taken apart enough humanoids to know them inside and out. Such was the control he now had over his own form. Should he wish it, he could be as much flesh and blood as any here.

Equally, he had control over the forms of others. He had rewritten the genomes of several lifeforms, strand by strand, built his own species or reforged others into shapes more pleasing to him. He was now considering reshaping Darth Malum of House Marr into something with less fondness for pomp and circumstance, right here in front of everyone. Perhaps some sort of fish. Helix liked fish, as they seldom made noise.

He was surprised when Malum skipped the formalities and got down to brass tacks. He wasn't sure how he felt about having a seat on the council, but it hardly mattered now. It was the natural consequence of becoming so vital to the Tsis'kaar's efforts. He'd dug himself in like a Droch, and now could hardly be removed easily. He had to go where his host went, for better or worse. If it were deemed necessary, he'd go along with it.

He shifted his attention to the others present. He had known Darth Strosius (or at least, he was decently sure it was Strosius) long enough to almost smell the irritation wafting from the vampiric Sith in waves. It wasn't hard to guess why, either. Malum, for reasons known only to himself, had invited a stooge of the Worm here. He didn't know this woman, but then, he didn't know most of the wider Order half as well as he'd like. Allyson Locke displayed a surprisingly cavalier attitude in such grim and melodramatic company, and he decided he liked her. Someone may as well do away with the unnecessary ceremony.

Perhaps this was an attempt to convince the Emperor that Malum wasn't at all planning anything bad for his health. Helix knew Empyrean wouldn't be fooled for an instant, no matter how much they sanitized their speech. He wondered how long it would be before Strosius confronted Malum about Zachariah's little revelation on Woostri.

It wasn't difficult for Helix to tell the difference between them with (he felt) reasonably confidence, just as he was sure they knew it was him. No matter how perfect his disguise, he was still a thing of voidstone, unable to be affected nor sensed by the Force. It wouldn't take a genius to deduce who he was, but Malum did love the pageantry.

He listened to who he assumed was Zachariah Conway , speaking about his "heroics" at Woostri. Perhaps they were, or perhaps their enemies had simply been incompetent. Strosius and himself had made their own entrance with as little finesse as a hurricane. It was a simpler thing than he was given credit for, but now, the Order knew he had been instrumental in their victory. He was on the radar, and that was worth more than any material reward that he could take. The thought tickled his towering ego more than he would have ever admitted out loud.

"Ships will not be a problem." He intoned, his voice a serpentine organic tenor rather than the chainsaw snarl that it normally was. "Helix Solutions can provide, but it will take time." He had the advantage of needing no shipyards. Everything he had had been constructed in the void, mostly of pillaged materials. He wasn't fond of making port for long, or of having any home base his enemies could strike. His fleets were fully nomadic, an advantage that was probably the only reason he still had a fleet. Pinning him down was near-impossible. Still, ships took longer to build that way, and there was no getting around that.

He was leery of taking the Trade Federation's money as Reicher Vax suggested. They weren't to be trusted, no matter how benevolent their goals seemed. He far preferred to simply steal what he needed, and he had interacted enough with the modern-day Federation to know that they had changed little since he knew them originally. Still, he bit his newly-formed tongue and said nothing. That thread could be snipped later.

He noted one of the masked figures schmoozing the newcomer. That, he guessed, would be Serina Calis , though there were others likely to kiss up to new faces. He gave the maybe-Serina a quiet nod, despite himself. He'd come to respect the woman's deviousness, a deviousness remarkable in its intensity even amongst present company.

For now, there was little to do but sit, listen, and see how things played out. He had no doubt that there was a method to Malum's madness, as always. Some would argue that there was a madness to his method...

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Serina Calis //:
//: Death Eater's Meeting //:

Allyson had been through a lot in her time—wars, betrayals, life-and-death situations where a single misstep meant the end. But nothing, absolutely nothing, had prepared her for the absurdity of sitting in a room full of Sith while a barely-grown shadow of a girl tried to flirt with her like this was some schoolyard game. She took a slow, deliberate breath through her nose, the fake mustache still proudly affixed to her upper lip. If the child next to her thought she was going to pull a fast one, she had another thing coming.

Tilting her head slightly, smirking as her eyes looked over the featureless mask. "Resourceful? Sure, let’s go with that," she said, voice dry. Her hazel eyes flicked toward Serina, scanning her with the same weight of scrutiny she was being given. "Though I gotta say, for someone trying to act all mysterious and aloof, you sure do talk like a kid playing dress-up at a war council."

She let the words hang there for a moment, watching, waiting for any shift in Serina’s perfectly poised exterior. Sith or not, she wasn’t fooling Allyson. She had spent years dealing with people who assumed they were more dangerous than they actually were. Serina bled that same energy—like, testing the waters, and figuring out how much she could push before getting burned. Allyson shifted in her seat, leaning back in her chair with ease while one boot hooking around the leg of the table as she made herself comfortable. "But hey, I get it. Gotta be tough, sitting at the big kids' table, trying to find ways to entertain yourself while the adults talk about things you don’t really understand yet." Her smirk widened just a fraction. "I respect the effort, though. It’s cute."

She reached up, adjusting the fake mustache nonchalantly, making a show of stroking it like some great tactician deep in thought. "Maybe next time, you can bring a disguise too," she mused. "Something to make you look a little older. I hear beards work wonders for credibility."

The moment stretched between them, thick with the push-and-pull of unspoken challenges. Allyson could feel the silent glances being exchanged around the room, the tension threading through like a wire pulled just a little too tight. Some of the Sith were annoyed, some entertained, but none dared to interrupt.

She finally let her hand drop, fingers idly fumbling in her lap. "So," she drawled, "we're done playing, or do you wanna keep trying to impress me, kid?"

 

[Serina Calis]

The Springtime of Nations.
Location: Alvaria
Objective: Survive the meeting.
Allies: Reicher Vax
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Allyson Locke

"Reicher can deal in the practical, I am busy playing a deeper game."​

Serina did not flinch. She did not recoil. She did not even shift under the weight of Allyson's words, the subtle condescension, the dry humor laced with something sharper. No, Serina had spent her entire life measured, underestimated, dismissed. It hurt her deeply, always bringing some form of gut wrenching feeling to the stomach.

She had stood before a GOD who thought her nothing but a trembling girl and had defied them. That experience taught her the power of being underestimated, she may of been deeply hurt by such comments, but on Manaan she had learned to control that, to channel that anger into power.

No. Her ego demanded her to play her part perfectly, her ego demanded her to be underestimated now.

Because she knew in time, it would be fed to bloat in the corruption of all.

So why would she falter before a woman wearing a cheap fake mustache?

No, this was not insult. This was opportunity.

She could prove today that she could finally surpass Darth Malak in one thing, anger management. She still needed to attend the courses, otherwise Dominic and Reicher would be less than thrilled, but Serina had always been a self-made kind of woman.

A slow, languid chuckle escaped her lips—warm, silken, edged with something sweet.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, voice light, almost affectionate, as though Allyson had just said something endearingly foolish. "That was a lot of words just to tell me how much you've been watching me."

She lifted her hand, fingers trailing in the air as if dancing on unseen currents, entirely unbothered by the scrutiny, by the attempt to rattle her.

"You must forgive me," she continued, voice honeyed and low, deliberately playing into the joke, into the persona Allyson had already decided for her. "I'm still learning how to play with the big kids, after all. It's so terribly hard to keep up."

Serina leaned in, ever so slightly, as if sharing something just for Allyson, the edges of her voice teasingly conspiratorial.

"Would you teach me?"

The words were innocent, but the way she said them was anything but. There was a knowing humor, an undercurrent of mockery, but all wrapped in a veil of playfulness. If Allyson wanted to see a child, then Serina would be adorable. She would be harmless. She would be entertaining.

And then, when it suited her, she would remind her just how wrong she was.

It would be all the more delicious for her ego.

Her gloved fingers tapped lightly against the table, a slow, rhythmic sound. "But, oh, you're so right about the beards. Maybe next time I'll wear one. Maybe even a fake mustache to match yours." Her head tilted, her mask unreadable save for the faint glow of red lines that traced its surface. "You're setting such a strong example, after all. How could I not follow?"

There was laughter in her voice now, warm, genuine, but with just the right edge of impish delight.

Then, as if realizing something, she gave a small, dramatic sigh. "Oh, but I suppose you're far too busy for that, aren't you?" She lifted a hand to her chin, mirroring Allyson's ridiculous mustache-stroking gesture, as though lost in deep contemplation. "All those important, grown-up things to worry about."

A pause. Then, in the sweetest, most saccharine voice imaginable—

"Like sneaking into Sith meetings and gluing cheap facial hair to your face."

She giggled, actually giggled, as though the entire situation was just the most precious thing in the galaxy.

"Tell me, dearest, is this a usual tactic of yours? It's rather charming, I must admit. I wonder if the Emperor will be as delighted by it as I am."

Her fingers tapped again, a quiet, deliberate reminder that she wasn't just here to play. That the moment she chose to stop entertaining, the game would end.

Serina would always let them underestimate her.

Because secrecy is power.

Because weakness is a lie.

Because when the time came, they would never see her coming.

But for now?

She would play.

So she let her voice soften, playful and coy, a teasing, knowing hum at the back of her throat.

"Now, tell me, oh great mustached one…" She tilted her head, hands folding neatly in her lap. "Are we done pretending you don't find me absolutely delightful?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was a fond smile beneath the mask, unbeknownst to all those who had been gathered here, for as the mask currently faced the hologrammed form of Reicher Vax, out from the corner of his sight, his vision was considering the other end of the table. First, he had stared in simple... bewilderment, as the woman that had twice attempted to kill him, had reached into her side to draw forth a pasted moustache onto their face, only then, for the smile to come upon his features, as such an act, as bewildering as it had been.

Had done exactly what he should have expected it to.

Caught the eye of perhaps the most perfume-spoken individual he had ever met... apart from, maybe himself.

Serina Callis.

There had been design in most of his actions, even if the design most often played homage to that great adage of old, that the plans of great men so often failed in the face of their enemies, yet, rare enough at times, those plans did bear fruit that came to fruition, if he had it his way, Allyson Locke would be far, far away from this place, yet, he could hardly control it now.

And in the same measure, he would wish Lady Callis far, far away from this place too, the one who was playing a game that even he was uncertain of its end purpose, her relation with Reicher had brought his curiosity, her words had brought his attention, but his interest... his trust... that was not quick to be given to anyone.

He thought it an especially inspired measure, placing them side by side, allowing themselves to fall into their own foils, as the rest of them, undertook matters of true importance.

He turned his mask towards his cousin, his amulet burning hot in constant reminder of their blood's closeness, it had been MarrTech's amphibious craft first and foremost that had them score victory in the shallows of Woostri, which had brought the Order's attention squarely upon the up-and-coming company, that shared the name of their illustrious and grand ancestor, it would do it well to begin its expansion.

Perhaps finally tap into the line of credit that had been so long ago granted by the Galactic Mining Guild.

"Do not concern yourself with the manufacturing capabilities, the Order retains the shipyards of Susevfi, Sluis Van, Eriadu, along with many other Forge Worlds, we might not have any of the Forge worlds under our direct control, a matter that should change," He spoke, voice turning upon those gathered before them that had not yet taken upon governorship, "But until then, we have a right to use the shipyards, especially in regards to the Third Legion, create your designs, make them befitting the Third, and construction can begin forthrightly."

His focus turned next to his co-apprentice, it felt that there was still a distance between them, a distance born of a blade thrust in most intimately, yet, still, the fact that he was at this table at all, sipping what seemed to smell most suspiciously of copper, was at the very least welcoming progress.

"The Shikkars and Arbites have proved incredibly useful to us, there is little doubt of that, but one could argue their age is showing, some have said they seemed underpowered even when launched, and considering what opponents we face, we require every advantage we can muster," The question of who exactly those enemies were, was left sinfully open, still he nodded his head at the progress of the Kissai, another question of it would be that starfighter that would foment the heart of their starfighter squadrons, "Of that much we are in agreement, Seswenna finds itself upon the border of the burgeoning Naboo state, it requires a shield that is audacious in its defence, and unrelenting in his counterattack, and it would seem that you lack a world to rule, one to represent in the Assembly, perhaps you might take upon the task of securing us a Forge World?" There was a hint of challenge in his voice, yet, that hint was drawn forth with a japingness that filled all with an uneasy calm, these warriors, these brothers, that had once fought each other to the bitterest ends... it was odd to find them simply discussing at a table.

The rising voice of a helmed warrior, the newest of their cadre drew Malum's attention away from the Sangnir, towards that of Fury, Saijo, as ever proved to be the world that continued to give, "The Tsis'Kaar shall provide what resources and funds are required, bring your shipyards to operation, and begin production... though to a great degree, it shall be the subject of what is to be constructed that I have gathered you all here to question." The most troubling of realisations, that had dawned all the way back during the Ouroboros Crisis, that the Tsis'Kaar could not operate in the business of the scraps of their enemies, not in the way they waged war.

The shimmering form of his apprentice drew a slight smile upon his face, he echoed much of what had been spoken already, acting the role of the apprentice, even as a knight, for in many regards a knight still was an apprentice, and one humble enough to continue learning, rather than being entirely self-assured in their power would go far.

"The Third Legion shall require Legates, those with experience, skill, and loyalty, such is not in question, I have several candidates already in mind, those of which that I do not imagine any of you would protest, those of which sit in this very room," His masked visage turned towards all of them, the black visor hiding ruby red eyes, considering each, weighing their hearts within his hands, before the vision snapped back to his apprentice, "How are matters on Woostri, is there any sign of an Alliance counterattack?" He had given Darth Latens leave some time ago to make Woostri his, it was not the world that he would have suggested for Zachariah, but a world that he desired was a world that he would govern best of all, and protect like nothing else.

And then, of course, there was no denying he required one to watch their most important border.

Finally, then, it was time to address Reicher, red eyes, and a haunting visage turning to consider one of his most key allies, the blue shimmer of the hologram, as much with Darth Latens, a symbolic show of how far-flung the shadow of the Tsis'Kaar stretched. Reicher spoke eloquently, Reicher spoke lengthily, Reicher spoke passionately, there was a kinship of oratory between them, that which power held by the tongues of leaders to bring under their commands a full malice of utterly destructive intent.

He was silent as he spoke, giving him the floor, and with every word, more and more renewed confidence grew within strumming heartstrings.

He found himself standing, reminded of that time ever so recently, yet feeling still an age ago, when he had clasped his hands with this man, "You have conducted yourself far beyond my wildest expectations, my Lieutenant Vax," Malum allowed his favour to sing in the air, a deep pause that fluttered out to touch all those gathered, "I understand the unease which many of you might feel at the prospect of the Trade Federation of Planets, trust me, it is hardly an unease I do not share, but... their motives are known, credits and profits, both of which we can provide, while of course, if they become our foe, it would be a simple enough matter to leak their activities to the Alliance," A hanging threat which he was more than willing to deploy, Malum turned his head upwards, off to the empty sky which gleamed in a rich blue, that later in the quotidian night would strum in darkness embedded with the greatest of lights.

He loved that sky, had stared at it more times than he could count, and found hope within it, that he had lost in almost every other part of his life, as he gave forth all his effort into his dream... their dream.

Would he give this up too?

"Construction... construction..." He pondered to himself, "It would seem then that Polis Massa, Saijo, and Alvaria shall soon endeavour themselves to bring forth the engines of war," He turned his gaze upon Helix, their current most substantial engine of destruction, though at this moment, one could hardly think of him anything more than another human masked and hidden, "Begin construction, my Lieutenant Vax, but what I pose to all of you now, of MarrTech, of Helix Solutions, Sanguine Defence Works, Alvaria, Saijo, Woostri, and Polis Massa, shall be the construction of a fleet and army that which this galaxy has never seen before," He raised his arm, whipping itself through the air in the pointed call to each and every one of them, "We proclaim ourselves as correct, as right, but have we shown it? Have we proved our supremacy?" His arm fell, as his voice lowered, "To fight, to war, in a way superior to all our peers, to all our rivals, and our foes, that is our burden, to build a force that will shatter the Alliance, and bring the Sith to every corner of the galaxy," He smiled beneath the mask, as beneath the visor, rubies burned with the intensity of dying stars, "Our foes have greater resources than us, greater number, and have played this game for thousands of years, but for all the ambition that I see in you all, shall it falter in the face of what opposition we face? Of what opposition we will face?" The fire burned in his throat, crackled in his voice as if he was belching smoke, "We Tsis'Kaar have one advantage most paramount above all others, we stand united in the face of impossible giants, we do not falter, we do not flee in the midst of an unrelenting, and unmoving foe, power is often best concentrated at a singular point for best effect," The smile was audible now in his voice, "And the power of the Tsis'Kaar is nothing if not concentrated."

He allowed himself to fall upon his seat, yet, the energy brimmed within him like lightning coiled and ready to fire, fingers strumming along the armrests, as he gazed upon those gathered, those of which would be the instruments of an orchestra that would sing with the power to cause the galaxy to weep.

"I call upon all of us then to together formulate uniform classes of warship for the Tsis'Kaar, stretching from the lowly starfighter, to a retrofit of the Mors Vistra, designs that shall lay implicit within them the new, sharp, and swift way in which we will wage war."

Reicher Vax Commodore Helix Mariah of House Marr Darth Strosius Zachariah Conway Darth Fury Allyson Locke Serina Calis

 

[Zachariah Conway]

Location: Hologram
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Strosius | Darth Fury | Mariah of House Marr | Reicher Vax | Serina Calis
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet
​

Latens cast his eyes around the table.

Malum spoke, yet Zachariah was distracted doing something else out of view of his hologram. He was a busy man these days, his attention couldn't entirely be in one place all of the time. It was only when Darth Malum of House Marr mentioned the planet Woostri he refocused.

"Forgive me, but I am currently away from the planet which I have opted to call home" he acknowleged softly. "I had a single Jedi return and attempt to cause trouble, and he was defeated with ease" he boasted somewhat, thinking about his duel with Caden Evesa .

"He currently serves as bait for the students of Korriban" he commented with a smirk under his helmet. "Unlikely to trouble us again, once they're done". Zachariah paused for a moment. "I'm mindful that Woostri sits on the front line between Alliance and Sith space, thus once my governorship is confirmed with the support of Lord Fury and Reicher Vax, I intend to hire the services of your own cousin to bring security to my world"

Trayze Tesar would have his uses, of that he was certain.

"I beg the Alliance to attempt to counter attack. Next time, I do not expect that the Sith will be so gentle with them"

 

[Mariah of House Marr]

How strange that Darth Strosius was here still. She hadn't been perfectly kept up with politics, but had expected after what he pulled at the wedding ceremony, results would have been far more lasting. Regardless, she had considered his efforts, while flashy, very interesting. Unfortunately, it seemed he had underestimated some of the attendants a bit. Given his presence though, it didn't much matter what mistake he may or may not have made. Survival was paramount, always. His own offers of support were of secondary interest.

He was followed by Darth Fury , one she didn't know as well, his offer of aiding via his industrial planet however did draw her attention. She smiled and nodded her head, "That could prove very fruitful, we shall have to run over some details on that when available." she aknowledged. She wouldn't confine any operations to his making, nor did she expect to place any unique designs in a planet she felt could be locked down if he so chose. But mass production was something that could be well served that way. Afterall some of her designs were already essentially patented out.

Zachariah Conway had less industrial advice, but his potential military efforts were noted. Reicher Vax had his speech to give, his wording habits fitting ever so in line with the kinds of business propositions she was so familiar with back when she was working more in such sectors. Exactly what the trade federation agreement was, she wasn't sure. But she was willing to accept that whatever consequences followed if he didn't perhaps achieve their goals would be laid on his shoulders, were they too exist

Allyson Locke , already an outlier, revealed herself to be an even greater one. Drawing a chuckle from Mariah. "Curious attendees today." she added quietly. Though she grew ever the more suspicious as a result. Whatever Serina Calis the shadow was up to did not help her suspicions. Anyone who plays the fool should always be the most watched. Mariah'd done so herself a couple times, now she played the businesswoman while she sought greater forms of immortality. Never play your full hand. Mariah once again reinforced the shields around her mind, just in case. Those two felt like unnecessary trouble...eventually. Maybe not her trouble though.

Commodore Helix drew her eyes from the two women as he spoke up, briefly. Darth Malum of House Marr took back to the scene then, assuring them that manufacturing capabilities were perfectly viable. Convenient for her, she could take advantage of those to offset much of any cost and risk she would have to deal with trying to supply this effort. Much else he had to say had less to do with her, though she listened. And returned fully attentive as they came back to issues more pertaining to her.

, "Begin construction, my Lieutenant Vax, but what I pose to all of you now, of MarrTech, of Helix Solutions, Sanguine Defence Works, Alvaria, Saijo, Woostri, and Polis Massa, shall be the construction of a fleet and army that which this galaxy has never seen before," He raised his arm, whipping itself through the air in the pointed call to each and every one of them, "We proclaim ourselves as correct, as right, but have we shown it? Have we proved our supremacy?" His arm fell, as his voice lowered, "To fight, to war, in a way superior to all our peers, to all our rivals, and our foes, that is our burden, to build a force that will shatter the Alliance, and bring the Sith to every corner of the galaxy," He smiled beneath the mask, as beneath the visor, rubies burned with the intensity of dying stars, "Our foes have greater resources than us, greater number, and have played this game for thousands of years, but for all the ambition that I see in you all, shall it falter in the face of what opposition we face? Of what opposition we will face?" The fire burned in his throat, crackled in his voice as if he was belching smoke, "We Tsis'Kaar have one advantage most paramount above all others, we stand united in the face of impossible giants, we do not falter, we do not flee in the midst of an unrelenting, and unmoving foe, power is often best concentrated at a singular point for best effect," The smile was audible now in his voice, "And the power of the Tsis'Kaar is nothing if not concentrated."

She smiled to him, nodding her head in approval and agreement, sending out the same sense in the force. But hidden behind the layers of mental barriers she'd erected, she thought to herself. Oh dear, young cousin, so much power and ambition. Ambition, I fear, that has outgrown your power, and the power of the sith. I will aid as you expect me to, I will even hope that things progress well for you. Your grandiosity is admirable, your ambitions are at least planned for, but your goals are greater than you or me or anyone here. I am young for someone fresh enough to immortality, but the vision your artifact gave me of an instant of the past was a moment, a reminder of not only the fall of our Ancestor, but the fall of perhaps the most powerful fleet and sith lord the galaxy had known. It is folly to think a being as mortal as a sith could ever bring any meaningful lasting change to the galaxy. It will always revert, always start over. If you're lucky, you'll be compared to the likes of Sidious in grand plans. If you're not, you may not be remembered at all. All that matters is us as individuals. The galaxy will go on, and leave your empire behind. Pray only that the empire you make yours, and all your conquest, is satisfaction enough.

Spoiler: equipment/outfit

Mask:

dress

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

 

[Reicher Vax]

Zachariah Conway
Darth Fury
Darth Malum of House Marr
Commodore Helix
Mariah of House Marr
Allyson Locke
Darth Strosius
Serina Calis

The hologram of Reicher Vax remained motionless for a long moment after Darth Malum's rousing oration. The others might have taken it for stillness, for respectful silence, but in truth, Reicher was calculating.

Each word Malum had spoken—every pivot in tone, every gesture, every challenge wrapped in rhetorical fire—was a call to action not just for the Tsis'Kaar, but for those with the vision to take this moment and mold it into legend.

His image finally stirred, shoulders straightening, hands clasped behind his back in that familiar posture of military rigidity, though his voice came with the steady thunder of a man who had long since learned to speak not as a soldier, but as a leader.

"Darth Malum," he began, crimson eyes gleaming through the shimmer of the projection, "your words strike not only to the heart of our purpose, but to the soul of what the Third Legion must become. Not a mirror of our enemies. Not a derivative of the First or Second. But an evolution—forged in clarity, tempered by discipline, and executed with precision."

He turned his head, as though surveying each figure seated at the table—even the masked ones, even the silent ones—as if weighing their merit in real time.

"You speak of unity, and you are correct. That is our greatest strength. But unity is not enough. The Tsis'Kaar must wield cohesion. It must wield intention. A thousand swords scattered in the dark are meaningless. But one blade, forged by many hands, guided by one strike? That is how we shatter worlds."

A pause.

"Polis Massa will be the crucible for that blade."

His voice deepened slightly, that orator's tempo coming through as the general beneath the statesman emerged.

"Construction begins within the week. The orbital anchor arrays are already being laid. Modular ring-facilities, drydock platforms, and resource uplinks are being transferred from the reserve vaults. The Trade Federation's investment has given us access to rare metals previously confined to the Corporate Belt. Alloy refinement is being overseen by the retained engineers from old public extraction divisions—now under our control, of course."

A subtle, almost amused quirk of his lip.

"There is no cost to you. I've absorbed the debts. What you bring are the designs. The specifications. The vision. MarrTech's precision. Sanguine Defense's fire. Helix's technological aggression. This is not a time for fragmented contributions—we must work as one. I propose that we do not merely design ships. We design a language of war—our doctrine, encoded into steel."

He raised a single finger.

"One starfighter, universal across Tsis'Kaar space. Modular. Swift. Agile enough to function as a knife in the void. Let it be piloted by the elite, and feared as the first and last thing our enemies see."

A second.

"A corvette—light, fast, silent. A ghost. One that can mask heat signatures, move through sensor shadows, and tear apart convoys without ever being seen. This is the blade we slip between ribs."

A third.

"A capital destroyer. Nothing bulky. No arrogance. Sleek and vicious. Designed around support and misdirection. Electronic warfare cores, stealth fields, launch bays. A warship that controls the battlefield not with brute force—but by making the enemy fight blind, deaf, and terrified."

And then, his hand clenched into a fist.

"And finally, we will retrofit the Mors Vistra." His voice darkened slightly. "That ship's name has become synonymous with embarrassment. But that is the power of symbol. Let us reclaim it. Strip the bones of its disgrace and remake it as the flagship of the Third—fast, devastating, and built for total operational dominance across multiple theaters."

His red eyes locked on Malum now, steady and unflinching.

"You called upon us to prove our supremacy. I do not build for symbolism. I do not build to match the enemy. I build to crush them. And what we create here, together, will be a doctrine the galaxy cannot ignore. A fleet that haunts dreams."

He stepped back, slightly, folding his arms behind him once again.

"I await the design council's first session. My engineers are ready. My yards are yours. Let us begin."

And with that, the hologram flickered for a moment—but remained. Reicher Vax was still watching. Still listening. And still planning.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Serina Calis //:
//: Attire //:

Allyson's deadpan stare flicked between Serina and the head of the Tsis'Kaar, repeatedly trying to decipher the point of this circus. The masks, theatrical prose, and the girl posturing like a seductress were all wearing thin. The Corellian's patience frayed by the second. It reminded her, unpleasantly, of the prep school her parents forced her through.

Thankfully, the stars had mercy: the man finally stopped talking.

She'd watched him drone on, his followers lapping up the empty rhetoric like it was gospel. Circular speech, veiled threats laced with hollow praise and no substance. Just a bloated puff piece meant to flaunt his supposed power. Allyson had met Sith before. Most were quiet but brutal. This man was none of those things. He was loud and carried weapons she had doubted he could wield. She'd seen enough.

Her mind had already moved on, cataloging the cult's inner mechanics, who was paying attention and who wasn't. A moment later, her body followed; she stood mid-sentence, unbothered by the ripple of startled silence.

Only a handful in the room weren't guzzling down the poison Malum of House Marr so eagerly poured. Her eyes landed on the blonde girl still trying to play a game she hadn't learned the rules to. Allyson leaned in, meeting Serina's gaze.

"When you're ready to actually play the game and not act like this lot," she offered a sly smile, "you know where to find me." She leaned back, one hand brushing the cloth hood atop Serina's head, ruffling it like she would a child's hair. Then she paused, plucked the false mustache from her own face, and stuck it on the upper lip of Serina's mask with a casual flourish.

Without another word, Allyson turned and strode out of the meeting. She didn't need to hear another second. Her opinion was made, and her reports waiting for her.

Spoiler: Tag List

Darth Malum of House Marr Reicher Vax Darth Fury Mariah of House Marr Darth Strosius Zachariah Conway

 

[Darth Strosius]

As more worlds were brought into the discussion of shipyards and production Darth Strosius made note of them, although all of them were somewhat known to Him already. The Tsis'Kaar was the only division within the Sith, aside from His own of course, that He had any knowledge of after all. Woostri would need more fortification and rebuilding before it could be serviceable, Polis Massa had plenty of potential and usage even without some grand shipyard project, but as Malum said there were plenty of worlds already suited to gathering grand fleets without the need for development.

Such as Seswenna. Having more than one main source of ships would be ideal, even if it were harder to maintain. That was one benefit of taking control of a world with preexisting shipyards, they could always be dismantled and moved elsewhere. A fair bit cheaper than building new ones. "Then we can update them. The Shikkar was always lacking in stealth systems anyway." An oversight made necessary for wider production but one that could be remedied.

His hidden gaze narrowed slightly at the subtle challenge in Malum's words. The gall, as though he doubted His ability in conquest. "Seswenna will be secured and put to service as it should have been from the beginning, have no fear." The groundwork would be lain soon, although He did have a discussion to have with the Imperator of the Second Legion first. Preferably one that wouldn't result in blows but one could never be certain in this line of work.

Darth Strosius quirked an eyebrow beneath His mask as Malum went from addressing to postulating, sitting back in His seat and making no show of hiding the flask the second time He pulled it from His robes. This time He didn't even bother refilling the glass, a few swigs straight from the source was exactly what He needed to perk Himself up a bit during the grandiose blustering. It wasn't like they could exactly have some discussion of their proper foes with one of them seated at the table so what was the point of espousing?

He slipped the flask back into His robes and leaned forward to rest His chin on His hands, fixing the apparent governor of Woostri with a slight glare from behind His visor. "The Alliance will throw countless bodies as they please, boy. They'll take city by city if necessary. Do not beg for their attention even in jest, for you will receive it. Foolish as they are they are incessantly tenacious. Dig in deep on Woostri, else you'll be ousted before the next meeting." An insult and a warning wrapped into one package, but one that He wasn't at all speaking in hyperbole. He knew well enough what the soldiers of the Core were willing to do for victory, they'd already tainted an ocean on Woostri with their defilement.

He glanced back at the head of Polis Massa as he interjected, mentioning a grand new design project for the armada that would shepherd the Third Legion across the stars. He questioned the concept of focusing on three types of vessel in particular rather than a more diverse range, differences in doctrine perhaps, but designs would indeed need to be settled on and developed. He made a mental note to not ignore any invitations from Polis Massa in the near future.

"The Mors Vistra will be an entire development project in and of itself. A ship that large and in need of those extensive...finishing touches will take more than a year at minimum to accomplish even once we have a plan in place to finalize it." Modifying a shipyard to fit around the Super Star Destroyer would be enough of a challenge, let alone actually working on the vessel. If they possessed a world such as Kuat then perhaps the task would be less insurmountable, but as of now it was a daunting affair to be certain. "I recommend focusing on the fleet first, then the flagship."

Darth Malum of House Marr / Reicher Vax / Mariah of House Marr / Zachariah Conway / Darth Fury / Allyson Locke / Serina Calis / Commodore Helix

 

[Serina Calis]

The Springtime of Nations.
Location: Alvaria
Objective: Survive the meeting.
Allies: Reicher Vax
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Allyson Locke Darth Malum of House Marr Commodore Helix Darth Fury Zachariah Conway Mariah of House Marr Darth Strosius

"Reicher can deal in the practical, I am busy playing a deeper game."​

The tension lingered in the air like perfume on heavy velvet—thick, indulgent, and slightly suffocating. Even with Allyson gone, her departure left behind ripples, like a stone thrown into a pond. But Serina?

She did not dwell in ripples. She lived in the undertow.

And now, finally, she moved.

With the deliberate grace of a noblewoman and the lethality of something far more coiled, Serina reached up—fingers, slender and gloved in obsidian silk—and pinched the edge of the absurd little mustache stuck to her mask. It came away with a faint tug and a small, almost mournful sound of parting adhesive. She held it between two fingers, considering it with the mock-reverence of someone holding a relic of a long-dead saint.

"Poor little thing," she whispered with playful gravity, twirling it lightly in her fingers before setting it down before her on the polished table like a calling card. "Gone too soon."

Her attention, however, had already shifted.

The air had changed again, the conversation moved back to ships and legions and grand designs of steel and flame—and Serina's tone followed suit, though the sultry rhythm of her voice remained. It always remained. It was not something she wore. It was something she was.

She stood.

Her royal purple robes spilled down her frame like cascading dusk, the glowing red veins on her mask catching the low light in faint pulses—breathing, almost. A thing both living and utterly still.

"There is elegance in the shape of steel," she began, voice smooth as glass sliding over water, addressed first to Reicher, her brother-in-law, her mirror in ambition if not always in method. "But more than that—there is identity."

She turned slightly, inclining her masked head to Reicher's holographic figure. "Your vision is... crystalline, Governor Vax. Each vessel a piece of a language—a philosophy—not merely built for war, but for intention. Precision. Expression."

Her fingers rose, tracing something abstract in the air, as if outlining the curved lines of a hull no one else could yet see.

"I would offer my hand to such a project. Not for engines or reactors, perhaps—but for something more nuanced. Form. Pattern. Instinct. These ships we design—they must feel like us. They must move like us. Their silhouettes must tell stories that end before the first volley is even fired."

Then, she pivoted, her attention narrowing like a blade drawn toward Strosius.

The Sangnir Lord's words were cold, scathing—wrapped in subtle derision and hard-earned truth. Serina did not flinch. She thrived in frost.

"My Lord." she said, her voice dropping an octave—lower, huskier. "Your experience in war is not in question. Nor is your cynicism." Her head tilted slightly. "You see oceans tainted and lessons carved in blood. And rightly so."

She took a single, slow step forward.

"But even the most tenacious armies falter when their reality is shattered. The Alliance plays at predictability—waves of bodies, logistics, routine." Another step. "We do not need to match them on the field. We need to undo them before they reach it."

She paused beside her chair, one hand resting lightly upon its back. "When we speak of doctrine, we must think beyond formations and calibers. We must speak of fear. Uncertainty. Psychological collapse. The moment a starfighter shimmers into sight, it should birth a thousand questions: What is it? How fast? Why didn't sensors catch it? Why is it already behind us?"

And then, she laughed again—low, private. "The Alliance may throw bodies. Let them. It is so much easier to crush what refuses to think."

Her attention moved lastly, and most carefully, to Darth Malum.

Her mask tilted downward, slightly, as if in deference. But her voice held no submission—only an acknowledgment of gravity, and of the roles they both played.

"You speak of proving our supremacy," she said softly, with the intimate lilt of a lover whispering beside a fire. "But to prove it to whom? Ourselves? The Sith? The galaxy?"

She turned her body fully toward him now, that faceless mask reflecting the crimson glint of his own.

"I would offer this: we must build as though our enemies are watching—because they always are. We must build something so beautiful, so terrifying, that it becomes the thing they whisper about in their bunkers. A fleet that doesn't just break sieges. It breaks confidence. We should not merely defeat our foes, my lord... we should make them doubt themselves."

The moment lingered. A hush followed—whether out of respect or discomfort was irrelevant. Serina was practiced in both.

She bowed her head, just slightly. "I shall contribute to the design council, and I will ensure the doctrine of the Third is not merely understood... but felt."

Then, with no further ceremony, she returned to her seat.

And the mustache remained on the table before her like a sigil.

A symbol of every lie she allowed them to believe.

Of every truth she kept hidden.

And of every mask she would wear—until the galaxy knelt.