Diplomacy Unholy Union: The Bridge

[Mercy]

Ord Vaug, Moorja, Retice, The Maw Cluster

Darth Malum of House Marr Lysander von Ascania Darth Nefaron Helix Astra Sadow Helix
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There is an understanding in warfare, once the bridge has been established, it is incredibly difficult to dislodge.

The moment that stream of muscle and blood starts flowing... well, you can try and stop it. But you will most likely be trampled underneath the mass. Four and four are gone. Another four are left before the hungry wave of Sith. They come and descend down on another four sectors, but now they are diving deeper into the heartland of the old Sith Order. The sort of worlds that have known the oppression of the Sith for decades now.

It is a tough thing to think about. What will prevail here? Old loyalty? Will these worlds simply smile and nod, as new conquerors arrive with the old standing next to them? Or do they look at freedom as a new breath of wind that they must hold onto by any means necessary?

But their desires do not matter.

The Sith'ari has spoken.

Go forth and claim what you can. As quickly as you can. Bring to me these worlds and their allegiance, expand our territory until you are sick with avarice and your veins are running black with exhaustion.

Do what must be done. Make your Empress proud. Make me proud. Bring as many of them home and we will reward you.

This, your Sith'ari decrees.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Moorja
TAG: Helix

The Sith's assault on Moorja had been utterly devastating.

Their rule, tyrannical.

But now, a new order was to arise. Far more cruel than ever before.​

The arrival of the two ambassadors of the Sith was expected, but those who stepped free from the maw of the ship were entirely unexpected. Where the landing party thought to meet bureaucrats simply there to negotiate treaties, they were met with two agents of evil who had entirely different ideas. The Corpse Lord said nothing, simply striding onto the landing platform as rain pattered against his black robes.

"M-my Lords! This is… most unexpected…"

Nefaron approached the official, dead eyes scanning every inch of his face before the Sith simply shook his head.

"This world will be ineffective for providing new labor. We will have to import slaves from off-world to see production rise."

"Lord-"

Nefaron wasted little time in removing the official's head from his body, a swift stroke of his saber that put the detachment of security personnel on the back foot. They raised their blasters, directed at the Dark Lord, who simply chuckled and turned back to the transport that he had arrived on.

"Would you be so kind as to show our new guests the grandeur of your new form, my friend?"

In truth, no modification to existing treaties was to be made. This was merely the expansion of a criminal empire that had blossomed from the very darkest corners of Sith space, and now it had come here. The Dzara had come to remove those who would attempt to weed out the corruption they spread and install more favorable rulers. From the black heart of the galaxy, they would strike out at pathetic little worlds like Moorja and see to it that the most vile of their servants were in place to carry out the necessary work that needed to be done to ensure terror reigned supreme in the new galaxy that was to come.

What need was there to rule directly when slaves would do just as well?​

 

[Helix]

Darth Nefaron ​

Helix's looming, black-clad bulk stomped down the ramp alongside Nefaron's slighter figure. His bile-yellow eyes swept the delegation in front of them.

Despite the lack of violence (for the moment), they stank of fear and unease. He didn't need the Force to sense it, either. He could hear the rapid, anxious pulsing of each heart present. They were on the alert well before Nefaron revealed the true purpose of their visit.

Of course, it didn't save them. Helix had seen the Nefaron's withered-looking physique prove fatally surprising more than once. So it was here. A barely-visible flash of crimson-hued motion, and a disembodied head rolled on the floor, still frozen in an expression of shock.

"Would you be so kind as to show our new guests the grandeur of your new form, my friend?"

Helix didn't need to be asked twice. The looming figure alongside the Corpse Lord seemed to evaporate into fine black dust, which swirled under its own power through the security team.

Tarnicite particulate seeped through ears, eyes, nostrils. Those so afflicted died screaming, and more unpleasantly, they didn't stay dead long. Like marionettes with restored strings, they stood up, turning their efforts on their former comrades.

Helix's essence had spread through them now, puppeteering them in body and soul. If done quickly enough, the wider world need not even be aware of the coup. The mechanically-reanimated corpses of their own ambassadors would play ball in death far better than they had in life.

One guard, a little quicker or perhaps a little more experienced than the rest, dove out of the way of the oncoming rush of living crystal. A blaster bolt rang out, passing harmlessly through the semi-diffuse Helix. The fellow suddenly dropped his weapon, clutched at his throat, and hovered two meters from the ground. Helix reformed, brushed off both shoulders in a deliberately-theatrical gesture, then lazily drew a sidearm from within the folds of his jacket. One final shot heralded a period of silence.

"They'll have heard the weapons fire." Helix mentioned to Nefaron conversationally, as though he were commenting on a holonovella or perhaps discussing the merits of Anoat wine.

"It has been some time since I've adjusted a planetary government. This should prove as instructive as it is fun."

He gestured to the infested guardsmen. "Worth keeping the extra muscle, do you think, or should I just make them jump off the bridge?" For their part, these most recent victims remained unpleasantly aware of their dire circumstances. At the mention of a long jump, they all twitched ineffectually in unison. That was about the limit of the defiance Helix would allow them.