An Interlude to War

[Rom]

Darth Vereor moved easily across the rooftops of Coruscant, leaping across the roofs and spires of the shattered skyscrapers as smoothly as a regular man walked along the sidewalks below, his sanguine eyes located on the edge of the Temple District where the ship waiting to carry him to where Destiny waited. Sanguine eyes darted around in constant motion beneath the faceless helm, corded muscles flexing beneath hard scales and cold metal as the Barabel looped around the Jedi Temple. A squack of interference burst from the helmet, the radio faltering as he continued the looped message he had been broadcasting on Imperial and Mandalorian frequencies since he had left Drakus and the Senate Rotunda;

'Imperials and allies, thiz is Darth Vereor.... Disengage immediately. Remove yourselvez from the battlefield. Death approachez on silent wingz and a dagger'z blade.'

It would not be enough he knew, but it would help more of them survive.... his spirit still railed at using this ritual before the battle could be finished, but they had no choice. During the Battle of Coruscant there could be no half-measures.

A soft nudge from the Force caused the lithe armored figure to twist to the left and roll off of the west face of the skyscraper he was traversing before using the Force to guide his descent onto the roof of an apartment complex east of the Jedi Temple. His eyes swept the roof, moving past the small figure he had been seeking and locking onto the burning central spire of the Jedi Temple.

His voice was calm and composed as he looked upon his former home, the mask lifting with a hiss of air to show narrowed eyes and a barely perceptible scowl.

"Master Raide... report."

 

[Kiro]

"Master Raide... report."

As soon as that deep, hissing, snarling, voice eminated from the Dark Lord's reptillian lips, the short Sith Master dropped promptly down to one knee. The action was so expedient, so swift, so immediate, that the sound of her armour striking the tiles of the roof-top rang out, loud enough to attract the attention of a couple of passing Stormtrooper officers. A hand shot up to pound against her heart over that highly polished, chrome, breastplate. Raide's cloak was nearly gone, having been reduced to a tattered, charred, rag clutching feebly to the armour, which was covered in minute scratches and soot.

"By your will, my Lord," Raide replied, her soft voice sounding quite at odds with the nightmarish, appocalyptic, backdrop that was the martial subjugation and devestation of Coruscant, the most powerful, the most important, planet in the galaxy. She rested one hand on her hip, where her sword would normally have been, but that weapon had apparently gotten left behind somewhere during the battle. "The Jedi's archives are ours. We lost ten Stormtroopers of the 103rd Brigade in the initial assault, and Major Rufus Scryer, of the same unit, suffered grievous injuries, but is currently recieving bacta treatment at a field hospital. I assume he is being evacuated off-world at the moment."

The human's eyes remains closed as she delivers her report, awaiting her Lord's pleasure before even assuming the concept of standing in His presence. She had spent half her life seeking Him, and the Empress, and all of her adult life serving Them, and mastering the Dark Side. Her existence, her life, her soul, belonged utterly to Darth Vereor and the Empress, just as her visions had promised. "We faced initially two Jedi. One escaped, the other was subjugated by Crusader Xanthus, and is being transported to Korriban for indoctrination. However... we had a little surprise," She explains, her voice still light, and the Force betrays her her amusement, and a slight hint of curiosity. "We faced Darth Silentius' pet. Ebberla Daw. She has apparently been restored to the Force. But, the archives are ours. There was a 26% data loss, and a starfighter crashed into the archives, but the data is still valid."

 

[Rom]

The Dark Lord turned to regard the Sith Master prostrated before him, sanguine eyes sweeping across soft soot covered features and bright grey eyes facing the floor in reverence. Raide Vakri was perhaps the most loyal Master in the Sith Imperium; efficient, intelligent, and devoted to the Dark Lord and Empress. He had chosen her specifically for the Archives mission due to her track record of success and he allowed a vicious smile to cross his scaled visage as he used his tail to push her to her feet with a gentle motion. Making sure that she was standing as was her due, Vereor nodded deeply to show his approval before voicing his thoughts.

"Operationz analysts guessed we'd get maybe a quarter of what you accomplished... very well done, Master Raide. Very well done indeed."

Waving a clawed hand forward, Vereor turned and faced the battle-scarred surface of Coruscant, the burning Jedi Temple dominating his vision. The Force around him felt uneasy, conflicting thoughts and duty warring within his mind. Turning to regard the shorter woman, his head tilted to the side as he looked at her. "So, Ebberla Daw haz come out to play again, hmm? Interesting.. very interesting. She'll be one to watch going forward.... the Grandmaster mantle iz empty, and any Jedi who survive will be looking for leadership. Perhapz..... Bah, for now it'z immaterial. The Archives are ourz, and at your handz. If it iz within this one'z power, you may request any boon that thiz one could give, in recognition of your victory."

 

[Kiro]

Raide's heart surged at the praise from the Dark Lord, and she rose to her feet as his tail nudged her back up onto her feet. She had spent her entire adult life seeking the Dark Lord's attention, to be praised by the Barabel, to serve him faithfully. Though she was standing, she bowed at the words of praise, a broad smile on her not unattractive face.

"Thank you, my Lord, but it was but the strenght of any Sith harnessing the full fury of the Dark Side." The blonde Sith replies as she watches the Dark Lord carefully, a carefully groomed eyebrow raised as she senses the conflicting emotions surging within and around the Sith Lord. Passions fueled the Sith, and was key to the Sith Creed, but emotional control was as important to the Sith as a Jedi, so Vereor's emotional status was a curiosity.

"As for a boon, I would only ask for a chance to serve you, my Lord, and if at all possible a laboratory to carry out my experiments." The Sith Master replies as she watches the insanity of a world being subjugated by the Imperium and their Mandalorian allies, and the slow, fighting, retreat of all combatants upon the planet. "What is going on, my Lord? Why this retreat? Are you going to order a bombardment upon the planet, and order the death of trillions of non-combatants?"

 

[Rom]

Vereor allowed a rueful smile to cross his face as she spoke, the smile from honest praise causing her eyes to light up and a tendril of devoted joy lance out through the pain and despair that choked the Force surrounding them. Sanguine eyes roamed slightly over the Sith Master, checking for wounds among the tattered sheath of fabric and scratched armor covering her small frame.. mostly. An imperceptible twist of his tail brought the bladed tip lightly tapping against the back of his skull, forcing him from his inspection and returning to the matter at hand.

"It'z not just a Sith giving themselvez over to the Dark, Master Vakri... had that been the case than thiz one would not have won a bottle of Corellian brandy from Grand Admiral Stark. It takez a special kind of Sith to take the Dark and force it from simple destruction to careful manipulation. So enough with the bowing and scraping, thiz one haz no patience for it, especially if you wish to continue your service. You are to be commended.... and thiz one will ensure you get that lab on the planet of your choice."

Turning away as she voiced her questions about the retreat, the Dark Lord could only shrug and release the misgivings into the tumultuous swirl of the Force, leaving only duty and an iron resolve in its' place.

"Bombard the planet? No.... No Master Vakri, what the Empress haz in mind iz far more damaging than any simple bombardment. Thiz one discovered in an ancient holocron detailing a ritual that could pervert the power of the Force into something darker... When you look around you, what do you see? Buildingz, holoz, lightz from a city that never sleepz? Or do you see deeper, beyond the ephemeral? Can you see, az thiz one can, the purity and light that comes from thousands of Jedi training over hundreds of years on this hallowed ground? The very soul of Coruscant shinez like a beacon from the Core, a symbol of hope to a newly shattered Order... if Light existz it can keep the darknezz at bay, they will say."

His tone changed as he spoke, shifting from the natural charismatic tones of a knowledgeable teacher to the soft sibilant hiss of a hateful predator, a demon haunting shadows.

"Victory at Coruscant iz not enough, haz never been enough. The Jedi will regroup, the Alliance remnantz will unite once more and continue the fight. Victory cannot, will not be achieved without sacrifice! Coruscant must not only fall, it must crumble. The Jewel of the Core will be tarnished and shattered.... and remain a testament to our implacable resolve."

His fists slowly clenched and unclenched as he stood before her, wind and force aura whipping his cloak about him, framed by the burning Jedi Temple and the crumbling city beyond. His face was not twisted in righteous fury or patriotism at his words, which sounded so much like a politician's campaign. His breath was easy, his eyes firmly locked onto her own, showing nothing but the knowledge of what must be done and the willingness to do it, beyond any misgiving he may personally have.

"Coruscant will die tonight, Master Vakri... and no one knowz it yet."

 

[Kiro]

The Sith nodded as the Dark Lord of the Sith spoke, as he explained his thoughts and his plans, how he and the one they both served would permanently alter the course of galactic history in order to utterly defeat their most hated enemy, to utterly extinguish the Light side of the Force. Her stormy grey eyes remained locked onto his, a playful smile on her lips.

"Death is but the final conclusion of life, my Lord." Raide replies as she puts one hand behind her back, the other brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes before joining it's twin behind her. She slowly steps slightly closer to the Barabel, her eyes moving from the humanoid reptile to the fleet blocking out the Coruscanti sun, which caused a surge of pride to swell within her chest.

"The Light will always be consumed by the Dark, and the Guardians and Sheperds will always be consumed by the Predator. It is the way of life, it is the fundamental law of the Mother, as old as time itself. Even stars and planets follow this law. Planets are consumed by stars growing old, and stars are consumed by black holes, giant stars having grown too old, too large."

She turns her head away from the fleet and the retreating Imperial shuttles, gazing upon Vereor's scaled visage. Her next words are soft, almost whispered, but utterly heartfelt, as it radiated through the Force.

"We are the Predator. We are the black hole. We shall consume the Light, and leave only death and darkness in our wake, my Lord."

 

[Rom]

Vereor allowed a small smile to cross his face at her words, the devotion and pride surging through the Force between them as Raide poured her very being into the belief of those words. It was heartening to find someone so confident in the face of his own indecision, a measure of trust established by his own openness and her response. Reaching out a clawed hand and lightly clasping her shoulder as a comrade might before the charge, Vereor felt his smile widen into a savage grin, sanguine eyes glinting in fiery determination.

"Yez, like black holes. Pulling and absorbing and crushing all in our path. Sucking the very light out of the smallest grain of life. Thiz one thankz you, Master Vakri; your wordz have been enlightening..... and by the Hungry One, enough with thiz My Lord nonsense. We are standing on the field of battle as comradez, not the hallz of the Imperial Palace. You may call thiz one Vereor."


Turning his head to regard the small woman once again, the Dark Lord cocked his head to the side in curiosity, a thoughtful expression peering out into the darkness surrounding them. "Master Vakri, this one wantz the Archivez removed from the Temple and the retreat begun... can thiz one trust you to lead this effort?"