Cameron Centurion
The First Son
Felucia
The winds of change were constant throughout the tumultuous galaxy, but they seemed to affect one group of individuals more than any other. The Sith Empire had seen regime change at all levels on a nearly cyclical basis. Cameron knew that he had been one of the many to be a part of this. Despite this consistent, transitory reality of existence, the Sith and their Empire endured. There was purpose and reason behind this. The Sith had been an ever-evolving group since their inception. In conflict, we are forced to be the best versions of ourselves. This was the quintessential difference between Sith and Jedi. The Jedi resorted to outright conflict only when necessary or as a last resort. The Sith...well...they craved for it. The chance to improve and increase one's personal strength and control was all too natural.
Unfortunately, too many Sith believed that openly stating their determination to kill their master passed for a true effort at strength and control. That was an entirely ridiculous notion. Yes, even Cameron had killed his one and only master, but it had not been something he openly proclaimed to the man or any other. It was merely the natural result of Alathor no longer having anything to teach Cameron. Cameron had allowed Alathor to become so rooted in his over-confidence, that the older man could not even conceive of betrayal by those closest to him. In truth, those closest to you would always be your undoing.
Likewise, strength and control had nothing to do with how many planets you supervised or how many fleets bent to your will because of direct orders issued by another. These elements were useful in their own right, but it was not the end result of a lifetime dedicated to being the best version of one's self. What that meant to an individual...irrelevant to Cameron. He was not one to be a life coach to other Sith. The path through darkness to greater power was not one that anyone could see clearly. It was, quite simply, something that had to be experienced. A guide could only get one so far.
As the shuttle approached Felucia, Cameron was forced to recall his most recent memory of Felucia. It had been during his stewardship of this sector of Sith space at the behest of Emperor Tyrin. Word had reached the Sith Lord's ears that the winds of change had swept through the Empire once more, finally raising Zambrano to the throne. Zambrano had been a rather constant element of the Empire. To that end, Cameron did recall Zambrano from before the man was truly a Sith. He wondered if the massive, altered Leviathan he'd been on hand to watch the creation of still existed on the planet or anywhere, for that matter.
Now was the time for much younger generations to guide the increasingly bureaucratic organization of Sith. Cameron and those like him had...served their purpose. Now, he could only be a guide, and he tended to do so only when requested. That, of course, had nothing to do with his visit to Felucia today. He had fought alongside a child once. A child that had, apparently, grown enough now to be the Lady of this sector. Impressive. Quite impressive. Passing through the august security surrounding the sector's capital, Cameron piloted his vessel along the instructed flight path to the Imperial Palace on Felucia. Traveling, naturally, under the name Ashmedai, the Sith Lord had not been hassled by security.
Steam hissed from between hydraulic actuators as the AlAT/i set down gently on the appointed landing pad. After securing the vessel's engines, the Sith Lord stood from his seat and made his way aft to the loading ramp. The large, dark-skinned Sith stepped casually down the ramp with the hood of his black and silver cloak lowered over his head. His silver-green gaze immediately shifted towards his destination. Gently, Lord Ashmedai placed a hand upon the worn, leather hilt of his Sith Sword as he stepped forward.
@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]
The winds of change were constant throughout the tumultuous galaxy, but they seemed to affect one group of individuals more than any other. The Sith Empire had seen regime change at all levels on a nearly cyclical basis. Cameron knew that he had been one of the many to be a part of this. Despite this consistent, transitory reality of existence, the Sith and their Empire endured. There was purpose and reason behind this. The Sith had been an ever-evolving group since their inception. In conflict, we are forced to be the best versions of ourselves. This was the quintessential difference between Sith and Jedi. The Jedi resorted to outright conflict only when necessary or as a last resort. The Sith...well...they craved for it. The chance to improve and increase one's personal strength and control was all too natural.
Unfortunately, too many Sith believed that openly stating their determination to kill their master passed for a true effort at strength and control. That was an entirely ridiculous notion. Yes, even Cameron had killed his one and only master, but it had not been something he openly proclaimed to the man or any other. It was merely the natural result of Alathor no longer having anything to teach Cameron. Cameron had allowed Alathor to become so rooted in his over-confidence, that the older man could not even conceive of betrayal by those closest to him. In truth, those closest to you would always be your undoing.
Likewise, strength and control had nothing to do with how many planets you supervised or how many fleets bent to your will because of direct orders issued by another. These elements were useful in their own right, but it was not the end result of a lifetime dedicated to being the best version of one's self. What that meant to an individual...irrelevant to Cameron. He was not one to be a life coach to other Sith. The path through darkness to greater power was not one that anyone could see clearly. It was, quite simply, something that had to be experienced. A guide could only get one so far.
As the shuttle approached Felucia, Cameron was forced to recall his most recent memory of Felucia. It had been during his stewardship of this sector of Sith space at the behest of Emperor Tyrin. Word had reached the Sith Lord's ears that the winds of change had swept through the Empire once more, finally raising Zambrano to the throne. Zambrano had been a rather constant element of the Empire. To that end, Cameron did recall Zambrano from before the man was truly a Sith. He wondered if the massive, altered Leviathan he'd been on hand to watch the creation of still existed on the planet or anywhere, for that matter.
Now was the time for much younger generations to guide the increasingly bureaucratic organization of Sith. Cameron and those like him had...served their purpose. Now, he could only be a guide, and he tended to do so only when requested. That, of course, had nothing to do with his visit to Felucia today. He had fought alongside a child once. A child that had, apparently, grown enough now to be the Lady of this sector. Impressive. Quite impressive. Passing through the august security surrounding the sector's capital, Cameron piloted his vessel along the instructed flight path to the Imperial Palace on Felucia. Traveling, naturally, under the name Ashmedai, the Sith Lord had not been hassled by security.
Steam hissed from between hydraulic actuators as the AlAT/i set down gently on the appointed landing pad. After securing the vessel's engines, the Sith Lord stood from his seat and made his way aft to the loading ramp. The large, dark-skinned Sith stepped casually down the ramp with the hood of his black and silver cloak lowered over his head. His silver-green gaze immediately shifted towards his destination. Gently, Lord Ashmedai placed a hand upon the worn, leather hilt of his Sith Sword as he stepped forward.
@[member="Kära Vi'dreya"]