Diplomacy Unholy Union: The End

[Mercy]

Coppperline, Stennaros, Aur Diamonds

Naamino Zuukamano Matt the Radar Tech Darth Nefaron Veradun Sharr Taeli Raaf Darth Carnifex​

The last stage.

It had to be.

They had traveled so far, done so much, the horde had to be tired by now. Her hunger must be sated by now. Except it never was, they all knew this. Even the ones that had never met her, knew her by reputation. This monster that was called sister by their Empress always wanted more. More worlds to swallow, more meat to turn to mist in the grinder. Abregado-rae had been nothing but a warning to her, while for some it was a tragedy on an unspeakable level.

To a creature such as that, would there ever be enough?

Don't think about it. Just keep going, one more, one more step forward before the stage was set and the end was finalized. Then they could rest. But for now, these worlds, diamond and otherwise, were waiting to be plucked.

To be taken.

Remember the words of the Sith'ari. Let them invigorate you. Let them excite you. Because at the end of all this... there would be a reward, a prize, for those who saw it all through.

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]

STENNAROS
TAG: Veradun Sharr

Though reborn through the darkest mysteries of the Force, Nefarious had not forgotten his near-death experience above Thyferra.​

While he now strode the galaxy as a living plague in all but name, he was acutely aware that there were other, more terrible powers hiding in the darkest corners of known space that could be used against him, something he could simply not allow if he was to see his grand design through to fruition. But he could not trust the hunting of these rogue elements to mere agents; he must attend to such things himself.

But he also needed to secure an equally rogue element.

His Apprentice.​

Now a Dark Lord, the boy had become something altogether different from the frightened child that he had taken from the confines of the Sith Academy. He was vain, greedy, and above all else, ambitious, unaware that his master had also taken steps to increase his own powers. That is why he was summoned, why they traveled alone to bleak Stennaros to seek out the power of the local inhabitants, the so-called "force-eaters". While looking nearly identical to the native inhabitants of the embattled Stennaros, the force-eaters possessed a unique connection to the force that saw them gain abilities not unlike those of the Jedi or Sith, but some took it a step further, able to consume the living force that every living being was composed of.

This power was a threat to Nefaron.​

He wanted it for himself.​

But that meant finding one. The issue was that the force eaters had been hunted since the days of the Republic's founding, reduced to a few hundred thousand in a galaxy of trillions.

A task for his Apprentice, it seems.

Which is why they strode the pockmarked surface of Stennaros, going from hamlet to hamlet in search of Nefaron's prize. They had already visited three different locations to no avail, but this next one appeared the most promising, given its remoteness and seeming hostility to other nearby villages. They might resist the arrival of a pair of Dark Lords, precisely what Nefaron hoped for. Their ship had just touched down, and the pair had descended the ramp when the Corpse Lord at last addressed his Apprentice.

"Lord Vanitas, I can sense your frustration. Make your concerns known."​

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Stennaros
Tag: Darth Nefaron ​

Veradun had been silent the entire journey to Stennaros, a shadow amidst the shadows, as he and his wicked Master embarked on yet another mission the Dark Lord felt was paramount to his schemes and plans. He didn’t attempt to engage his Master in conversation, content to simply sit as still as a statue and either ponder whatever new Force skill he’d taken up learning, where and who his next meal would be, and of course - how he would one day usurp his Master and rip everything away from him for himself.

He knew that Nefaron knew of that desire that lurked within his black heart. Every Sith Apprentice - well, almost every one of them - had that desire too. To kill and overcome the Master and take their place. For most it was out of a sense of accomplishment or vanity or whatever, but for Veradun - he liked to believe that his desire to murder his Master was born not from vanity but from necessity.

Evil like the Corpse Lord should not be allowed to exist.

And yet…he did. And Veradun Sharr - Darth Vanitas - served him. Did that make Veradun evil too?

That stray thought pulled a rare but very slight curve from his lips. He did not deny his wickedness, and he never would. He was a Sangnir - one who consumed the life essence of another to extend his own life beyond what was natural. His victims likely thought him evil and cruel as he ripped their life from them.

He was also a Darth, a Sith “Lord”. Or Dark Lord, according to his Master. That by itself made him evil.

His thoughts shifted elsewhere, always turning - though not as frantically anymore. Giving up one’s mortality for perpetual life had a way of bringing everything into focus and clarity. He had, quite literally, thousands of years before him (should he live that long). He could afford to slow down these days. In action, in words, in thought, and decisions.

He knew it irritated the Corpse Lord to no end - but he didn’t give a chit about that. Nefaron was always pissed off about something and taking it out on Veradun. Those beatings or other torturings had only gotten worse too, when he discovered his Apprentice could heal faster now. Bruises and broken bones mended within minutes - provided Veradun fed well enough to support such rapid healing.

Upon arrival to the unfortunate planet, Darth Nefaron wasted no time in dragging his Apprentice along as they paid a visit to several hamlets in search of what Nefaron was seeking after.

Of course, he used Veradun as his Fist, so to speak. But even with the threat of immediate harm or even death hanging over the inhabitants’ heads, the knowledge that the Corpse Lord sought after - any useful information, actually - was hard to come by.

The last hamlet the Sith duo came upon, however, promised to perhaps be different. It was remote, and the individuals within appeared to be more hostile than the others - especially towards other villages.

"Lord Vanitas, I can sense your frustration. Make your concerns known." Darth Nefaron said, his voice sounding like gravel moving through mechanical gears - rather aggravating on the Sangnir’s heightened sense of hearing.

How about ‘you’re not dead yet’ - that is a frustration of mine… Veradun thought to himself, though he didn’t dare voice that aloud. Truth be told, he was responsible for that frustration. Nefaron still had something to offer the Sangnir, and so the Corpse Lord would be allowed to live a little longer.

But right now, his Master had asked him a question, and he knew better than to make the Dark Lord wait longer than necessary for a response.

He was likely to still be “punished” for it.

Pale eyes that held an almost otherworldly shine to them, turned in the direction of the “blind” Sith Lord beside him.

“Even with tormenting these lovely hamlet denizens - we have come no closer to whatever it is you are seeking here, Master.” the tall and pale Sangnir said, his voice rich and velvety - unlike his Master’s. “What makes you think this will be any different?” ​