[ALL SITH, IMPERIALS AND ALLIES] Inauguration

[Sreeya]

OoC: This is no kill. Don't make me have to crack skulls <3

The smell. The taste. The chill. All of it came at once, beginning as a thin wisp before blossoming into an almost tangible snake that coiled around her body. Each step was practiced, each step held purpose, and each step was ascension. Ascension beyond the realms of gods, beyond the realms of any prophecy, any prediction, any hopes and dreams. There was no humanity, but an embodiment of chaos, of tortured perfection, of beautiful and glorious injustice.

The hems of her dress, slithered along the marbled floor, the rustling of the black fabric almost deafeningly loud. Like black water, the dress rippled and furled, languidly guided by the monster that donned it. A slender, pallid hand hung at her side, the dextrous fingers moving as if roaming over the keys of a piano.

The aura emanating from this abomination was so wretched, so contorted, that life itself began to decay around her. Flowers withered, and any critters outside were silenced. The guards within the halls stepped aside, shock clearly upon their features. This was not a presence they had expected to feel ever again.

Yellow eyes gazed ahead, the piercing orbs a testament of the animal she had become. Her hair hung in curled wisps, extending down to her back. The power that existed within her was not something that could be felt or experienced. But it existed, hauntingly so, and deceptive. She was a demon, and any around her knew it. She did not have to have disfigurations, she did not have to wear a mask, she did not have to appear as a monster, but her eyes betrayed it all. Her aura betrayed it all.

The Imperial Palace was pulsating with strength. She came into a large hall, stepping up towards the large throne her husband had once occupied. The memory brought a faint grin to her red lips. She paused for a moment, not sitting yet. She ran her fingers over the seat, feeling tendrils of memories wash over her, too obscure to make out. She closed her eyes, opening them again to face those before her.

“Sith...Imperials... soldiers and those that worship the Force...”

Her voice boomed across the hall, her calculating eyes roaming over everyone.

“We have grown complacent. We have grown comfortable in strength. We have grown detached. One of our key foundations on which we exist is passion. Passion, strength, and drive. We are forged by chaos, molded by battle, conditioned for war. Conditioned and directionless. A well oiled machine that idly sits. No more..”

She strode across the platform, shooting them all glances.

“Close your eyes for a moment and think of our accomplishments. Think of the battles. Think of the victories. Think of the confidence with which we began to cut a swath through our foes. Think of the name Empire and think of that single chill that runs down your spine at the thought of it, that single trickle of fear. The fear that we strike into the hearts of our enemies, the fear that brings them to their knees, the fear that shatters them to pieces. I ask you, Imperials, bring back that fear. Bring back that chaos. We are the catalysts, we are what drives this galaxy toward a new era, while the Alliance strives to nurture weakness. I ask you to bring the Empire back to what it once was.”

She came to a pause.

“Now open your eyes and gaze upon me. I have been with you since I was but a child. I have ascended from an acolyte to rule by my Emperor’s side. It is time I divulge the truth. It is I who killed Darth Exodeus, former Emperor of the Sith. While he has ascended and has been freed from his binds, my time has not come yet.”

A thin smile began to form on her face.

“I have returned because my Empire needs me. Because I can lead us to victory. I can succeed where my husband had failed. I will bring all those who oppose us down to their knees. I will crush their numbers and their very desire to fight. I will bring back the terror we once invoked within them. I will bring back glory and I will bring back chaos. I simply ask you to stand by my side as we pave our path to a new dawn. A new era where we are the masters of the galaxy.”

She stopped in front of the throne, the last of her words fading before she spoke again.

“I am Andraste, and I return today as your Empress.”

 

[Twisted Reality]

Drakus had come to the imperial palace for just this reason, the crowning Inauguration of a new leader. He had heard of the woman that ruled at the side of the former emperor Exodues, and that she had vanished after his death. But that was before his time, while he was still a Jedi hopeful, and the story was just talk among the acolytes. He now stood there a full sith, while he was still young, he looked to the future, Since he rise from Acolyte to Full sith, most of his time was spent training and seeing to it that the next batch of Sith warriors to come from Koriban were properly trained and had a strong foundation in the art of Lightsaber Combat.

So he stood in the front line of the crowed to see with his own eyes, Growing up in the slums of Coruscant this was the first time that he'd see an event like this. He was dressed in his armor, the insignia of the Imperium placed on the heart of the chest piece, His left arm curled around the Helmet,and his right hanging by his side. His gaze rose to the throne, those green eyes littered with speckles of gold, red, and orange. Took in every detail of the craftsmanship, only to look away when there Empress stepped into the room.

Right away he could feel her aura, sending a chill down his spin, Never before had he felt anything like it, but he kept his head up high, and did not let it show. He was not one to be awe struck, but deep down inside he was. Then the speech began and he hung on every word, He indeed closed his eyes, but all he could see was the defeat that lead to his fall, The broken ships on Abhean's surface, his battle with Sixteen, and then darkness. Only to wake up in a cell on Koriban and the sith that opened his eyes to the Jedi's betrayal. It was the one event that drove him to gain more power, and skill with a light saber...to never be put in that position again the next time he was on the battle field.

His anger spiked but soon settled as he opened them once more. His outwardly appearance vacant. That would never happen again, and he had something to remind him of that. The news of her hand in the death of her husband was shocking, but all the same it was before his time in the empire. He'd been an Initiate in the Jedi order when that happened. But with her return, he could see the war effort becoming what it once was. A force to be feared once again, and the end of the Galactic Alliance! Raising his right hand to his chest at the end of the speech and bow slightly, Drakus would be the first to say it.

"All hail our Empress Andraste!"

 

[Lupe]

The Imperial Palace, a glorious structure that showcased the strength and ingenuity of the Empire. It was full of Sith and Imperial alike, all striving for the same goal, to bring back the Empire to its former standing as the supreme power in the galaxy. Brelin was there as well, speaking with one of the Imperial Moffs who was curious as to what happened during the Sith's stay at DSC Daedalus. The man continued to pester the Warrior with question after question, but luckily he shut up, along with everyone else in the hall, for a faint chill could be felt in the air, a sort of darkness that even those who were lacking in the Force could feel; it was as if feeling Death itself had enveloped you and was choking the life out of you.

It only took seconds for Brelin, along with the crowd, to realize where that the darkness was originating from a beautiful woman who calmly walked towards the now empty throne of the Emperor. Immediately Brelin recognized her as Andraste, the former empress and wife of Darth Exodeus, even though he had never seen her before. He recognized her simply because he had heard rumors from other Sith about her deathly essence and how she appeared to be the most desolate and dark of all Sith despite her beautiful appearances. It is now that he realized that such rumors were true, and not exaggerated by the slightest.

For a few a moments the woman stood there, quiet, as she admired the throne. Then she spoke, her voice resounding throughout the halls, keeping everybody deathly quiet. Brelin listened intently to what she had to say, as if under some sort of spell. Still her words held truth in them, and Brelin wholeheartedly agreed, for the Sith had grown complacent and stagnant, it had allowed itself to weaken its grasp and thus began to falter. If the Empire needed anything right now, it needed a strong leader, it needed someone like Andraste. Meanwhile, Brelin closed his eyes, along with everyone else, when the woman commanded them to, proceeding to speak of the Empire of old. The words filled the Sith Warrior with pride and invaded his mind with the intense thoughts of patriotism.

Then they all opened their eyes under her command, but continued to listen to her with cutting edge attention as she spoke of her past, her doings, and why she has returned. In the end Brelin felt nothing but drive, the drive to make the Empire into what once was, to instill fear and power into Galaxy once more. He saluted and yelled out, continuing Drakus' yell, but adding to it "All hail our Empress Andraste! Long Live The Empire!" starting a chant throughout the hall, which was now full of patriotism and pride.

 

[Green Ranger]

Though the crowd were one in their huddled masses, murmuring at the return of the Sith Empress, a small group stood apart from the rest. Dark figures, masked and shrouded in black fabrics stood silently, looking at all and nothing at the same time in silent vigilance. Lightsabers hung from their belts, barely visible beneath their dark cloaks. And amongst them, part of yet seperate from the mindless slaves that served as his bodyguard, the enormous armored behemoth that was Darth Bhalr stood.

Arms crossed over his breastplate, the open helm revealed little of the Sith Lord's features, shrouded in an unnatural shadow, revealing little but two baleful eyes that glowed orange in the dim. As Andraste reclaimed her right to the title of Empress, his helm turned to the crowd, a frightful visage of a skull, twisted and contorted into a baleful maw that revealed the fire of his eyes within, great twisted horns and spikes making his impressive stature even more imposing. From within, his voice boomed, a raw, hoarse voice that filled the chambers and resounded off the walls, filling every inch of space with the sound of his voice.

"How many times has an Emperor risen with promises of glory, and produced inaction and stagnancy? How many times are we to trust our glorious rulers to deliver the galaxy to us? Are we now fallen so low that we look to a woman who abandoned us after destroying the stability that we prospered under, under Darth Exodeus? Are you all so willing to give an exile this glorious title so readily?"

 

[The Derp of Hooves]

Yuunda despised large crowds, but he figured he should at least be present for the crowning of the new emperor and stood in the second row. He was hardly seen out of his new robes and mask now days but he preferred it that way. He had been pleased at the capabilities of the force enhancing powers the mask held and had practiced with it to some amusing effects. He had found Qazoi Kyantuska a lot easier to use while he wore it as well as the other powers he had learned. One such incident occurred when two acolytes had approached him to be trained under. He had forced them into a duel to the death then when the winner was decided, he made him kill himself. But that was a different time and place, now he was in the presence of someone truly powerful and menacing.

He had been in the presence of several sith masters before but never had he felt such a consuming presence before. Andraste began her speech and he was entranced by her words as he rarely was was now days. He closed his eyes as she instructed, though one couldn't tell behind his glowing red visor and thought of the empire. However, being raised in the outer rim, galactic politics had never played too big of a role in his life. It wasn't until he had begun his apprenticeship under the jedi that the empire had played a big role. Once he had fallen, he had learned of it even further and tasted their vengeance personally before he turned. He learned the hard way that those who didn't serve were crushed. While he himself was never one to follow others, not since he had been turned, he knew how to show respect to those who deserved it.

He opened his eyes and let his passion for revenge, his general hatred of those who would seek to stop him, and the drive to grow stronger then any other fill his whole being and turn it into a lust for blood. At the end of her speech, he did not shout as some did, but rather let his aura speak for him.

 

[Dmitri]

The Sith Lords were the epitome of success in the New Sith Imperium, at least after the Dark Lord of the Sith. They were an inspiration, someone who should be overcome. They were the bulwark of power. The passionate machinators that decided the life and death of millions. People who should be looked up to, and feared. People to be respected, and shiver in fear when they show up.

But a chef in the kitchens wasn't shaking in fear, but from vexation. He had just banished a Sith Lord from the kitchens (and to his amazement, with his life) who thought it would be funny to "replace the candles on the cakes with sticks of TNT in order to start off the party with a bang." He noticed he had disgraced himself in his pants when the Sith Lord left and left the kitchen to clean up.

The Sith Lord in question was Darth Akrasia. Commonly known by his alias Bom Voyage. Well, he wasn't sure which he was anymore. There had been some leadership changes, and he wasn't sure where he sat in the hierarchy. Was he still a Sith Lord? His answer: Who cares? He wanted to have fun. This was a celebration. Sure, some annoying cook ruined his mood, but he would remedy it. After all, what couldn't alcohol and some grenades cure?

As Akrasia entered the area, he saw that people had already begun the festivities. The returning empress was giving a speech. Something about passion and crap. Geez, these people loved to talk. Thank god not as much as the Alliance and that they actually did fun things.

People cheered after Andraste's speech. He clapped a little, almost comically. Such gestures were empty, and the mentality behind them should be expected. It was the way of the Sith. Respect power or you'll get mowed down. Most likely a lot of the sillyheads in the room were trying to kiss up to their new leader. How many brown noses can fit in a room? Answer: a lot, when you blow them up.

But he had promised his best behavior. Sure, he wanted to surprise everyone with exploding cake, but who doesn't like exploding cake? The easier it is to spread it around after all when it's flying everywhere. You don't even need to cook it. The only thing you have to look out for is the occasional shrapnel.

However, not everyone was happy. Most evident was a Sith Lord named Darth Bhalr. He though the tin can had left the Sith, but apparently had come back after killing his girlfriend. Akrasia shrugged. That was probably why Bhalr was unhappy. He couldn't get a girl. Kept killing them. After all, who wants to date a Vader wannabe who's probably compensating for something?

Akrasia noticed a dwarf near him. The dwarf seemed relieved that Andraste's love pet wasn't here, due to tradition. Grinning, Akrasia decided to continue that tradition. While the dwarf was looking the other way, Akrasia kicked the dwarf down the stairs and at Bhalr's face. "Come now, Bhalr," greeted Akrasia as if oblivious to the action he had just done. "Don't be a sour toilet."

 

[Vencu]

He snaked his way through the crowd in silence, the heavy, jet-black cloak wrapped loosely around his armor. The hood was up, but there was no face visible in the shadows beneath it, only a cold, metallic visage with its signature T-slit visor. In just a few short steps, he had come up behind the man that had just spoken aloud and with his identity, his emotions, and his intent bottled up deep within him, Corden Vencu-- Mandalore and leader of the supercommandos-- raised his heavy blaster in one fluid motion. The cold metal tip of the barrel touched skin at the nape of Darth Bhalr's neck.

"Sounds like treason." Corden said aloud, his voice void of emotion.

In his left hand, he primed a stokhli grenade, gloved thumb holding down the dead man's trigger. He knew all eyes were on him now and so he made no effort to conceal himself any longer. Shifting his head backward ever so slightly, he let the hood fall free of his helmet. His finger was just a hair's breadth away from depressing the trigger to the furthest extent he dared without unintentionally firing the weapon. His grip was strong, but relaxed. His arm and his aim remained steady.

 

[Mr. Teatime]

A relatively subtle presence amongst the Imperials, with an aura like rain-heavy storm clouds and smooth black clothing, Arcturus revealed himself from an alcove to the right of the throne. Stopping at Andraste's right side, a wooden sphere-topped cane in his right hand, lightsabers and Charric pistol on his belt. He was even armored up, everything neat, polished and ironed. For once the hood of his sleeveless cloak was down, revealing his darkly handsome face, his black hair tied back into a single low bun. Though the cloak stopped just below mid-shin, preventing it from slinking across the ground, his overall appearance was calculated for an intimidating Imperial silhouette, mixed with some old Sith aesthetic.

He stood now, in stark contrast to Andraste's shorter form, both hands on the top of his dark cane, the leather wrapping just below the pommel-like top shining softly in the light. He supported Andraste, as Arcturus was fairly certain the previous Emperor had no true claim to it and was merely filling in.

A look of mild disapproval crossed his face as an exiled Darth spoke up against Andraste, followed shortly by two voices against Bhalr's, Akrasia and Vencu. Arcturus looked directly at Bhalr, both with his physical eyes and his unmatched Sight. "If I remember rightly, sir, such were the promises of every Emperor thus far. The Empire and it's allies are dominant. The Galaxy is ours." He banged his cane on the ground in emphasis, his low voice carrying through the air. He gave Bhalr a knowing, warning look. Then he spread his arms in a grand gesture. "Warlords, politicians, Kings of thieves on a stolen throne. Far worse have sat at the helm of the Sith than a claimant to the throne taken away by her Emperor, now returned to us. By right the Ancient Right of Death, Lady Andraste has claimed the throne." Another short pause, during which both hands grasped the top of his cane, and brought it down with a thunderous sound that echoed throughout the room of gathered men and women.

"Lords and Ladies of the Empire, Mandalorian Clans and Chiss Ascendancy... The old Emperor is dead! Long live the Empress!"

 

[Green Ranger]

As Mandalore moved to raise his blaster to Bhalr's gorget, the Sith Lord leant aside to avoid the dwarf that came barreling at him from Darth Akrasia, doubtless sending both dwarf and Mandalorian tumbling - he gave no indication of even noting the occurrence. Instead, the enormous man bowed his head towards the throne and Andraste, his fel eyes glowing balefully.

"As such is the will of the Sith, so I shall honour it. All glory to you, my Empress," he said, though his voice seemed to have a slight edge to it, as if choking on the pride he had to swallow. The dark shadows of his bodyguard - his Coterie - quickly moved to place themselves between the Sith Lord and Mandalore, though Bhalr himself continued to give no indication of dignifying the man's presence, instead moving through the crowd towards the exit. Bhalr had never been one for pomp and ceremony, and today it seemed was no different.

 

[Orphen]

Silen avoided crowds, though there was a presence in the room, ghostlike and a presence of mind more then a presence of body. Outside the area, Silen watched through the force, seeing everything as a cloud, walking through the ceremony room as a geist, an astral body. The world seemed to be made of smoke, though she could feel the great and terrible power of the dark side deep within the woman, she was not unlike herself, a giant in the force. Though whether or not it was of her own merit, was another story all together.

Silen knew little of this woman, she had seen her at Exodeus' hand when he ruled the sith. She smiled up at the girl, she was young, and had a long, long way to go, before her journey could be completed. Though Silen listened to her boldness of youth, she spoke of stagnation and action, she saught to rally the Sith under a banner by making herself the banner bearer. A pinnacle of which to become, but also, the pinnacle to destroy. She had made herself a target to the empire. Defeating her would be the epitome of attaining power. So she needed to be strong, have strong allies, as well as strong connections.

She did not speak to many, though her spectral form moved closer and closer to her radiant darkness, before speaking through the incarnation of her mind from the edges of the Shadowlands.

My Empress, many will seek your blood in coming days. But in my heart of hearts i believe you can change the sith, and lead to absolute victory. To this end, I will serve you, and know that in me, to the fullest of my being, you may trust."

The invisible specter bowed before disappearing entirely from her direct presence becoming only sight, and senses of Silen. Silens' eyes did not open, and she began to wander the outskirts of the area, watching, angered by the words of the Darth, but smiled as he was intimidated by the simple minded Mandalorian. She judged those in the room, Arcturus, stood in his glory. One of few she respected, for he knew the ways of the Aing-Tii. She looked over the Shark Girl also in the room, as well as several others she had felt through the force.

 

[Vencu]

Corden side-stepped as the dwarf stumbled past, then lowered and holstered his blaster. The Sith Lord and his escorts slipped away into the crowd and disappeared from sight. He made no move to follow. Instead, he disarmed the grenade, activated its coded safety mechanism, then clipped it to his belt. After a few moments, he started for the platform where Andraste stood. When he finally reached the steps, he aimed a curt nod in her direction.

"They tried to disarm me at the door. That didn't work out, which is a good thing. I think that one might have spoiled your first day in office if they had."

 

[Twisted Reality]

Drakus felt so insignificant among most of the presences in which gathered here. Among them, from what he could see, was the sith comindante, the empress herself, the strange sith lord that kicked a dwarf down a flight of stairs...which to him was just freaking histarical, and a sith lord that didn't take to the empress's claim to the throne at first, but quickly honored it. These were just a few of the strongest presenses that he paled in comparison to. A silent sigh, as he moved his right hand which at the time was under his cloak, and resting on one of his duel sabers on the back of his waist.

It would have been disgraceful to shed blood during such an event, but none the less. It seemed everyone here looked foreward to a brighter future for the Empire they all fought for. And if he had to be completely honest, it was quite infureating to know that with as hard as he worked. He was still no were near the level he wanted to be at. Even for a Crusader, he was a skilled duelist but he'd bed hands down he wouldn't last more then a minute if he crossed blades with any of them. His right hand clenched into a fist, his anger bubbleing under the surface. But deep down inside, he knew that if he had stayed a Jedi after his capture...he'd be dead...and his life waisted to remain a Jedi.

He looked around the crowed to see the one sith lord that had just moments ago withdrew his previous words was now on his way out of the throne room. He'd never heard of the man, so he didn't have any real reason to speak of him but he was one that should have an eye kept on him. Much like the empire, drakus had become paranoid, knowing it was common place to do so. Knowing that as you gained power, you could easily lose it if you grew complacent and over confident. He drew the right side of his cloak tighter around himself as he silently observed the going on's around him.

That's when he finally noticed it, which was strange because he'd never seen one before. But a Mandalorian seemed to have come to see the crowning of there empress. He knew they had an alliance with them, they've always been a force to be feared, second only to the sith empire. It was strange, though, like the sith themselves the mando's have in the past beat the old republic back and still fell short of ending it's existance. And with the current campaign could vary well be the last push to Coruscant and the end of the GA as they knew it. News stated that the council was dwindleing away, and Drakus would have bet every credit he had, that they were rushing to fill those spots. They were weak and everyone knew it.

none the less, Drakus was here to inspect the compition who he'd have to best when he was ready to take on the title of Darth. Which at this point seemed so far out of his reach but he wasn't doubting himself...if anything it was testing his patiance and confidence. If they would hold up that long or fall short, and it was a challange he was more then up for. Watching the Mando walk past him to the platform where the throne sat.

"Then he would have been killed, i'm sure there are many here that would have assisted in that regard." He stepped up and bowed in Andraste's direction, "After all, we need to stand together in order to succeed or we suffer the same fate as the old Empires that came before us." He bowed to Arc and smirked a little bit. "Commandant" from his study of sith history it was always power plays that plots against each other the indirectly lead to the demise of the most feared empire in galactic history.

 

[Galavant]

Rina stood near Drakus as she felt the dark power radiate from the direction of the new/old Empress. She didn't really understand much of what had gone on with her and the previous emperor,Exodus or some nonsense like that. She never got why Sith Lords felt the need to rename themselves into something fancier when their own name would often suffice. She was pretty sure even her master had done the same thing though when he'd joined the Sith though so she wasn't going to complain where he could hear her. She listened to the Empress intently as she spoke of future victories and ending the era of stagnation that had supposedly fallen over the Empire. She personally found it hard to believe that an Empire could already be declared "stagnant" when it had only existed in its current state for little over a decade, but then again she didn't really know a lot about Galactic Politics. Maybe the woman was telling the truth, or maybe she was just trying to curry favor. Rina didn't know and didn't care, but if she said the Empire would continue and expand its campaigns to crush the Empire that was good enough for her unless the Empress' actions proved otherwise.

Unlike her master or many of the others in the area she didn't start shouting or chanting or clapping. Instead she looked around and took in her surroundings. To her the sight of so many chanting in unison was more awe inspiring than the Empress herself had been. She'd never been among so many beings before and found it curious that so many would bother to show up when the civilized world as she'd discovered not long ago possessed devices that would have enabled them to listen to such a speech without even leaving what they were doing.

More ceremony, she thought in disgust. From everything she'd learned it was a weakness in every Empire. They all insisted that ceremonies and traditions be followed such as showing up to listen to a simple speech or building an elaborate tomb for a dead lord, or rebuilding statues from thousands of years ago that really hadn't meant anything then and meant absolutely nothing now. So many resources and so much time was wasted, which could have been spent if not actively pursuing the destruction of the Alliance and the Jedi than at least doing something more proactive than standing around chanting.

 

[Mars]

A dark cloud stood next to a whirlwind of dark energy. The all-seeing Anzati stood next the child of the Force. It was a unique pairing. Arcturus bred for war and a dead Sith's ambitions while Andraste was a tool of the fates, her destiny written in the stars as one of the Skywalker legacy. Her true past would be well hidden from almost all but a third figure, standing to the newly minted Empress' left, would be one of the few privy to such details. For the duration of his absence he ruled and kept order, crushing an Imperial rebellion in its early stages with the violent execution of a Vandergruff.

Phrik armor covered the Empress' brother from his neck down, his hood down for the occasion to bare a crown of horns and black tattooing in the form of old Sith glyphs. His cloak was long and black, made from the silk of shell spiders and armorweave. The armor itself was the stuff of legend and a purple glow was cast upon the Zabrak's face by it's omnipresent resident. On his hips sat a pair of lightsabers, one purple and the other crimson, not that he would use both simultaneously. The Shard intertwined itself with his psyche and would be the fire behind his words.

"Ascension, sister."

An eerie silence would no doubt fall across the room as his deep voice boomed. Although he no longer sat on the throne, when Vires spoke people listened. Although Varek shared a powerful bond to the Shard it paled in comparison to the dormant connection between the former Warmaster and his sister. With but a turn of his head to face her in the physical realm, those gathered would feel an explosion of energy as he reopened the Bond. It would be a surge of power like none other as arguably the two strongest Force Users alive were united across a single, decades old link. Even the great beast within Andraste would stand in awe of such power.

"The Empire breaks the shackles of its past rulers. The Sith are free to act as catalysts of galactic change unburdened by the ambitions of Exodeus the Fallen."

His words would fall like hammer blows upon any remaining supporters to the former Emperor. Varek himself had slain Exodeus' chosen son, Sicarius, the night Andraste had taken the Emperor's life. A dance of death the Zabrak would remember until he was eventually laid low.

"The path we pave, Sith, will be littered with the bodies of Jedi and Alliance soldiers. As we move onwards out of the great stagnation and into the golden age of the Imperium, soldiers will be needed for the front lines. Forget not your duty to serve for neither I nor the Commandant nor the Mand'alor have forgotten ours. The Galactic Alliance will fall."

His head bowed for a moment before returning his gaze to the crowd, likely sending chills up their spines as he reached out across it with the well of shared energy from him, Andraste and the Shard. Varek spoke the words that concluded his ascension to Darth, slightly altered for the ceremony.

"All will fall before us, my sister. All will bow to you, my Empress. None will subject the Empire to stagnation again, Andraste, for our chains have been broken, and through power we have been freed."

 

[Wit]

Jagged Lightstone, once an Imperial Knight, turned to the Dark and the Sith by the very woman now seated on the Imperial throne, stood in silence as he observed on goings near the throne. Observing but ignoring it all, for his attention was on Andraste alone. He had felt her return, even after all the changes she had undergone, he felt enough of a connection with her to be able to do that. He had thought of coming to find her, but something had made him hesitate. When he had received the invitation to attend the coronation of a new Emperor he had know who it would be, so her appearance in the chamber had not been a shock to him. The flowers were dead and all that seemed to be left was a bed of thorns.

Taking a breath, he began moving to the throne, he could not put this off any longer. Coming to a stop close to the armored man he guessed was the Mandalore, he looked evenly at Andraste and nodded respectfully to her, right hand in his breast, just below a single rose that was pinned to his cloak. She had given it to him a long time ago, and through the power that had always been in her, the flower had never withered.

Plucking it, he would place it at her feet before stepping down. As Varek stepped up and started speaking, he would send a silent question to her through the Force. "So you have returned, and accomplished so much. What did it feel like?" He always had been blunt and to the point, so he blurted out what was in his mind. He knew she would know what he meant. How did it feel like killing Exodeus, her husband, her emperor, the man who took her daughter from her.

 

[Nightmare Moon]

At the heart of every coronation lay an item of great importance. Desired by many it was royal symbol of office entrusted to the clergy since days long past. The duty of bestowing it on the rightful ruler had in recent times lapsed. However this was different, for the first time in over a millennia the Archbishop of the Sith was to bestow the crown upon the Empress. This ceremony would be sanctioned both in the eyes of the immortal gods and the blessed dead that dwelt within the bowels of Chaos.

The circlet itself seemed tiny nestled gently in the massive talon that was the Hand of Typhojem. A circlet of black Varium, its worth unfathomable to even a master jeweller. Alceaus Vox ascended the platform with slow purposeful strides there was no need for a rush this had to be done correctly as all rites. Towering over the new empress the bearded bishop made his proclamation to those attending.

"The eyes of the immortal gods are upon you. I bestow the blessings of Typhojem upon your reign. For as long as you follow the true path of the Sith let no demon or spirit raise it's hand to you and no enemy land blows upon your brow. May your reign extend far and may all who touch you find faith in your presence."

And with that the crown was placed.

 

[Defiance]

Avlis watched with anticipation near the back of the crowd on the new Empress as she made her speech.

He knew this woman. The woman known as Andastre. Not personally, but he knew her name. He recognized her face. How, one might ask. Avlis had seen her in a vision. Multiple visions. Avlis' ability with farsight was very untrained, however, thus all his visions were choppy and not always chronological. But he specifically remembered Darth Exodeus and Andastre. And his death. And the Jedi. And the duel. And the baby. This was the Dark Lady of the Sith. Some would say she was the perfect candidate for the place.

His opinion on her ascension? He could care less. Everybody around him seemed so happy. And festive. It was an emotion Avlis knew no personal connection to. If someone asked him for a time he once felt joy, he wouldn't have one. He wasn't much of the 'long-live-the-king/queen' type anyway. Avlis had some serious problems with superiors. The dark jewel at Avlis' neck quivered as he shifted, moving into sight for a fraction of a second. He immediately readjusted to keep it hidden in his clothing, fully conscious that it was revealed. Cheering erupts at the conclusion of her speech.

Then, an opposite side of the spectrum shows itself. His name was Darth Bhalr, dressed in fancypants armor and skull helm. The rebel dog was put down before he could gain any speed.

Avlis happened to know that one of his old friends was back, and he would not be happy to see this.

⇷☺⇸​

Meanwhile, Aneuryn was having the time of his life. Or death. What was happening again?

"I LOVE YOU!"

Aneuryn smacked an Imperial on the back of his heels. In surprise, he tripped over immediately. Aneuryn's voice was all gravelly. In the wake of his bath was a confused Sith with a chunk of his robes bitten off.

"YOU LOVE ME!"

The Mad Rabbit was on the floor, pretending to be a snake. The song didn't make any sense at all. Before anyone knew it, he managed to get himself to the Empress.

"Hi."

He broke into a nasty cough and coughed out a slimy lightsaber hilt.

 

[Kiro]

Nika Hastor, a Master of the Sith Order, and more importantly, Commander within the Imperial Military, had watched the ongoing ceremony with both bemusement and distaste. It just served to prove all of her misgivings in regards to the Sith. They were all sentimental fools, too tied up in traditions and rituals to see what needed to be done for the good of the Imperium or the greater galaxy. And if they were not fools, then they were insane, like the Kushiban.

At least some, such as the former Imperial Knight - Lightstone, or Commandant Wolfgang, had some modicum of sense. And then there was Mandalore. Not a Sith, or even Imperial, but Mandalorians were so wonderfully pragmatic about things. The Sith were supposed to be the vanguard, the elite, of the Imperium. Not a group of crazed coots that chanted senseless rituals for no reason other than self-agrandizement. They failed to realize they weren't sorcerers or wizards or gods or whatever the frak they belived themselves to be. A Sith was no different from a Stormtrooper, an Army Trooper, or a Navy Pilot. They were Soldiers of the new Sith Imperium, albeit ones with different training and different weapons.

Hopefully Andraste, the new Empress, would bring about positive changes. And as such, she saluted the woman. "All hail the Empress! Long live the Imperium!"

 

[Radiwalker]

Among the mass of servants, acolytes, soldiers and other beings of little to no importance stood a figure, that would usually stand out, but in this case had managed to blend it. The figure was wearing a dark armor, with decorative skulls over different parts of it. A hood was covering his head and a mask his face, only his black eyes were visible, although barely, from his suit of armor. Furthermore the armor of the sith master was emitting a green smoke, that was barely noticeable, unless one watched carefully.

Drenn had not taken his place among the masters, for he wanted to have a better view of the crowd, rather than the returning empress. He had been expecting the eventual return of the empress, for he could remember the glorious victories of the empire, some which had happened even before his time, under her rule and that of her husband. Of course, many things had changed since those times. For one, Drenn himself, had ascended to the rank of master, he had accomplished a lot for his time in the empire and had even managed to locate Andraste's journals and learn from them. It was to the knowledge inscribed in those journals that he owed his armor to. But despite his respect, slight note of happiness and anxiety, caused by the empress's return, the sith thought he ought to keep an eye out for any possible objections, thus he took his place among the mass, rather than with the distinctive masters of the order.

Opposite to what Drenn had expected, the only objection came from a darth and even that darth didn't dare take any offensive actions. The rest of the crowd was cheerful and blissful. The togruta felt at ease, even tho he kept his senses at their peak. He took note of many sith he knew and many he had not seen, but he had heard of. It was, after all, a glorious day, which all sith should celebrate, for it was expected that from this day forth, the sith would suffer few to no defeats, especially disgraceful ones like the battle for Empress Tetta, where they had been forced to retreat. Something that Drenn was ashamed of.

The sith would keep his place till the end of the ceremony, unless he would be called out, or the need for action would arise. He took pleasure in listening to the speeches given by the empress, her brother, as well as the one performing the crowning. There were of course, many side scenes, odd at that too, but Drenn was used to seeing crazy in action, he could even account himself to that group, but not in this occasion. This was the return of the empress and he had to pay his respects, so with a slight smile on his face, concealed by his mask, he kept watching the ceremony, daydreaming about the glorious days that would follow.

 

[Amon]

Kyra had followed her master to the inauguration of a new empress. It was somebody by the name of Andraste. Kyra walked behind her master as he walked up to Andraste to give her a crown. It was a gorgeous crown but more than it's appearance the crown was a symbol. This was their leader. "All hail the new empress. Long live Lady Andraste" Kyra said. She wasn't sure if it sounded right but it was better than not saying anything...right? Kyra now remained silent and waited to see if her master would say something to her.

-----------
High above the mass of soldiers and fellow sith sat a young acolyte. Perched on a rafter looking down on everybody. This young acolyte was named Draven C. Chance. Normally he wouldn't go to crowded events like this but today was special. A new empress was being named. Draven didn't really care but being a sith himself it was important to show up. He had never even heard of the woman being named empress but then again he was young and barely knew anyone in the order other than his master. Watching the people scurry about to attend to the new empress Draven sighed and leaned backwards resting his back on a support beam. He was bored but until told otherwise he would stick around to see the events unfold.