Ask Korriban Fit For A King

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest had given Azar minimal notice before arriving on Korriban. Word spread like wildfire across the Galaxy, echoing the news that brought a genuine smile to the face of the Dark Lord. The Empire was weak - perhaps the most vulnerable it had been since war with the Consortium had nearly collapsed its infant regime. Years ago, the Sith had been too weak to capitalize on the ruthless campaign of Emryc Thorne.

But now? They had resources and influence enough to strike back against the very government responsible for their exile. It didn’t matter how much Tempest loved Altair, or the care the Tiefling had for the Empire. It didn’t matter how readily she would burn the Galaxy in the name of the Empire’s greatest hero. Imperials would always be her enemy. And the Dark Lord would relish pulling apart the very foundations of their government.

And Tempest knew precisely who was responsible for granting her such an opportunity.

It was one of the rare times that Tempest traveled to meet one of her followers, rather than demanding their presence on her own grounds. It was the first hint of the value she placed on Azar. On the respect he had garnered from the multitude of victories delivered on a silver platter over the course of months.

Tempest stood at the very edge of a cliff - a jagged and rocky outcropping that jutted up from the desert, overlooking the endless dunes and rolling hills of Korriban. It was miles away from Ur. Away from any holy site, temple or tomb. Azar would know better than to bring anyone with him for such a meeting.

In silence, the Dark Lord of the Sith gazed out across the sand-scorched horizon - feeling the energies that radiated from the unique Korribani nexus. She had not roused from her meditation since arrival, and would not until the arrival of the Sith Master. She was adorned in robes of Zeyd-cloth, dyed a dark maroon and trimmed with gold. The hood was pulled up to cover the upper hemisphere of her face, though the helmet she typically wore was omitted for the evening.

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar had mixed feelings about the Dark Lord herself coming to visit Korriban. Part of him wondered if it was a gesture to 'remind him of his place'. Another wondered if it was to show her appreciation. The fact that she purposely chose a place to meet in private instead of demanding to see him kneel in front of all his people led him to believe it was the latter.

He dressed in his traditional attire, complete with a headdress, earrings, nose ring and golden piercings along his nipples. She would understand this was his domain and his culture, and he would dress accordingly. His slender yet athletic, crimson frame was displayed, along with the countless tattoos across his body. His torso told his story and he would have it revealed at any given moment. The gold matched his striking yellow gaze that studied her. The way he carried himself like royalty made him appear far taller and grander than he physically was.

Azar had no qualms with kneeling before the Dark Lord, showing her respect before he stood again. He hadn’t forgotten the way the Force coiled around him back on Thule. The single act made him more wary, but he wouldn’t bring that up now.

“My Lord, you humble…and surprise me by making the journey all the way out here,” He said, his gaze meeting hood where the shadow cast over her eyes, “I have prepared the finest quarters for you in Dreshdae when you are ready,” Azar said, “To what do I owe this honorable visit?” He knew, of course, but he had to hear it from her.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest didn’t immediately turn to acknowledge the arrival of Azar - though her sensitive hearing detected his footsteps long before he joined the Dark Lord overlooking the dunes. Her mind expanded through the Force, delving deep into the Nexus that radiated through every fiber of Korriban. Coursing through earth and stone like the very blood in veins, fueling millennia of ancient rituals and enchanted structures. It was a place like no other in the Galaxy. It was the true home of the Sith, and Tempest had long desired the planet returned to her control.

The Dark Lord paused from her meditation - finally shifting when Azar dropped to one knee. Only then did she turn towards the Pureblood, taking in the traditional attire he opted to wear for the meeting. It was the regalia of nobles and royalty, and befitted the Master that stood across from her. Befitting the future ahead of them.

She was silent - allowing Azar to speak - before she offered him the smallest nod. “You have my gratitude, Master Kressh.” Though she didn’t express the sentiment openly yet, the Dark Lord had hoped to see the city before her departure. The simple reality was that most members of the Order rarely ventured from the Valley of the Dark Lords - secluded within the Academy, temple and military bases nearby.

But first? The very business that has brought Tempest to Korriban in the first place. There was a purpose for her arrival - a purpose for meeting Azar in private, rather than forcibly entering Ur to flex her own strength.

Her head tilted. “Your own actions, Master Kressh.” Her lips tugged upwards at their corner. “The present, crippled state of the Empire is reason enough for me to depart Mustafar.” Facing the Pureblood fully, Tempest brought the tips of her fingers to tug the hood away from her face, revealing her features hidden underneath. For the very first time, Azar would see the face of Vahliri Kahtal without the Dark Lord’s mask - her bronzed complexion, intricate facial tattoos and eyes of molten gold. Her black hair was braided intricately in multiple places. Each strand was held together with bands of precious metal, curved around her fluted ears and stretching down towards her waist.

“You have been acquainted with the price of failure, Azar. But you have granted to this Order success after success.” Her fingers brushed across the surface of a jewelry box gripped between manicured nails - the Force pulsating strongly from within. “You are an asset to this Order. To me.”

“Tell me of your plans for this planet.” She said flatly. The Dark Lord had every intention of giving Azar the reward he deserved, but had her own curiosities about his intentions.

@Sreeya

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar’s face betrayed visible surprise when she revealed her features. The Pureblood studied her in stunned silence, allowing his gaze to roam over the tattoos, the piercing eyes that almost matched his own, the bronze skin that shimmered under the sun. He noticed the ears, guessing her to be Annfyn or Sephi. He listened to her praise, allowing a smile to grace his lips.

“No praise will ever amount to the honor of gazing upon you, my lord,” Azar said, his tone genuine. His gaze flicked over to the box she held, but he said nothing of it. He guessed she was Induparan, another fact he wouldn’t voice just yet. He would commit that face to memory, remember the lines, the shadow of painful memories in the eyes, the emotions that resided just beneath the surface.

Azar stepped over to stand next to her, his gaze panning over the same horizon she looked out into earlier, “I wish to become King,” He said simply, “King to my people that span across here, Ziost and Dromund Kaas. I wish to reclaim the planets that were taken from us and unite them under a single regime under the banner of the Sith,” He said, turning his head to regard her, “I had lost my sense of purpose and path when I was exiled from these lands. I have started to reclaim the lost chapters of my life piece by piece. I have found a new cause because of your guidance.”

He eyed her curiously for a moment, “Perhaps my plans will include giving you a tour of the great cities of Korriban,” He suggested boldly. Azar crouched down for a moment, hovering his hand over the sands. She would feel a pulse of the Force in use next to her, lightning churning between his fingers that intricately fed into the sand. It was a complex technique where the sand spiraled and wove with lightning and pyrokinesis to supereheat. At the end of it, Azar drew out a glass flower with a vertical prong to serve as a beautiful hairpin.

“While you are here,” He extended the pin to her, “Take a moment to simply be Niphredil,” Azar said, granting her a name for her time in Korriban that meant desert flower in his language, “Niphredil who knows not of the wars of the galaxies, does not know the burden of a people, does not shoulder the responsibility of judge, jury and executioner,” Azar said, giving her a choice to take the pin and temporarily become someone else or to turn it down.

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest couldn’t help the smirk that gradually tugged at the corners of her lips - pulling towards the smug, sideways smile that Vahliri Kahtal had been known for. It had been years since the Dark Lord of the Sith had openly revealed her face in the presence of her peers or followers. Years since she was anything other than the feared ruler shrouded behind a crimson mask.There was power in a face - and every persona that Tempest had carefully woven for herself.

Through his contributions and deeds, Azar had earned the right to gaze upon another facet to the Dark Lord.

“Flattery suits you well, Master Kressh.” She said smoothly. The accent and tinge to her voice was clear as the summer day - hints of her Induparisn heritage never forgotten. Even if exile was to be her fate, Tempest would never change the pieces of herself that beckoned home.

Her gaze followed as Azar flicked his own across the horizon - staring across the dunes as if he owned the sands that stretched beyond sight. She recognized the look behind his golden eyes - the hunger and ambition that burned like the brightest braziers. Though she didn’t vocalize the thoughts that passed within her mind, there was no denying the kindred she felt. Both of them had seen exile from the places they loved. There was no small part of her that envied being able to retake what was rightfully his.

“Then you trust you will fare better than the last Pureblood to promise me the same.” Her gaze flicked to rest upon Azar. “The witch was given my support and assistance to claim the throne, and squandered the opportunity entirely.” There was purpose in the words, beyond some desire to gossip. Cyu was carrying a child that could easily be passed off as Azar’s over Karys - and previous ambitions had already designated the woman as a rival. A threat.

What Azar did with the information was entirely up to him. As far as Tempest was concerned? There was only one correct answer.

“Listen well.” She began, hands knitting behind her back. “Evolution is survival, Azar. The Sith had no choice but to change after Exile - to abandon the way we had operated since the Eternal. We evolved from the old way. We survived. We prosper.” Her gaze flicked to regard him. “The Pureblood houses are no different.”

“Bloodshed and warfare have been the only method of unification employed by your people - fear used to little success. A true king has not had the throne in millennia. The last monarch? A woman gifted the crown by a better Sith. Someone too weak to defend herself from challenge, and who had done nothing to earn the loyalty or respect of her peers.” Had a single Pureblood defend the interests of Malicia or her twins as monarch? Had a single Sith attempted to intervene or attack Stolas?

“If you wish to reign supreme? Make yourself unassailable. Collect the regalia of your people and the divinity it conveys. Build alliances with the Houses that do not despise your family, and suffer not a single rival beyond them. Not from Sadow - and not from desert dwellers.”

“Remind the nobility and soldiers who serve you why it is more profitable to support you, instead of your rivals. Demonstrate the way in which your own loss would be theirs.” It was the very same philosophy that Tempest had employed within the Sith. The very reason that Azar donned his new bracers or Karys had been treated as royalty in recovery. “Listen well, and you will be a king to rival Adas.”

Tempest paused then - allowing Azar to suggest a tour of the cities. In truth, the half-Annfyn had wished to see them since their names were first mentioned in textbooks at the Academy. It was a privilege few would ever know, and despite the strength at her command, she desired to see its beauty and grandeur without forcing its denizens into supplication. Her golden eyes followed the display of lightning and pyrokinesis, watching as sand turned to glass, warping into the delicate flower pinched between Azar’s fingers. For a long while, Tempest could only stare - gazing back at her own reflection in the smooth, crystalline surface.

At last, she finally reached outward - accepting the hairpin with her free hand.

“I accept your offer,” She finally said, glancing up to Azar. “To become Niphredil, if only for a while.” Her hand lifted, tucking the hairpin into one of the many braids that cascaded down her back.

“And my gift to you. Earned for all that you have contributed.” She finally levitated the jewelry box within her hand, its wooden lid opening to reveal the velvet cushion within. Resting there, Azar would recognize a Shard of Palpatine’s crown - jagged metal, fastened to a chain of black iron. Infused with a fragment of the Emperor’s spirit. A presence all its own within the Dark Side. It had been brought to Tempest by another loyal follower, and now it was presented for Azar to claim as his own. “Use it well. Forge an empire in my name, Azar Kressh - and you will help to bring the others shards into our control.” Raze was gone - and there were few Sith who could challenge her. Tempest would seize the opportunity - and Azar would realize what he had to gain for it.

Her eyes never left his own. ”Serve me well, and you will find that loyalty is rewarded in ways others would not dare.”

 

[Darth Arcanos]

Azar listened in silence as Tempest spoke about the histories of his people. As much as it stung at times, she wasn’t wrong in the least. His people hadn’t had a true king in ages, and the latest efforts by Raze ultimately put a puppet seat-warmer in place that did nothing with it. Her wisdom and guidance was something he sorely desired, and he considered perspectives he hadn’t before. Their ways had always been the ways of might and overwhelming strength, and he had planned just that with his conquests. Was that the right way to go about it? Would he truly hold loyalty through fear?

When she expressed that he could perhaps rival Adas, Azar’s emotions almost overwhelmed him. He chewed the inside of his lip, trying to keep his face from revealing anything. It was the first time someone other than Trodai had expressed that kind of faith in him, and it filled him with pride. To have it come from the Dark Lord herself was beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

His thoughts were briefly distracted when she revealed that another had attempted to take Korriban. Azar’s head snapped in Tempest’s direction, his eyes widening slightly as it became clear Nevizkas once had her sights on exactly what he feared. She had been a rival, and if that child in her belly had been his, things would have been potentially complicated considering the Kressh specialties with blood sorcery that were a birthright. Fortunately, not only was her standing nothing but the baby was conceived while Karys had no royal standing, so the child wouldn’t be a royal bastard either. Effectively, she nor her child could pose any kind of threat to his rule.

“I will surpass Adas himself,” He said at last, his tone one of rigid determination, “And bring many worlds to heel in your honor.”

Azar looked at the box, feeling the pulse of power that hummed within. His eyes widened at the gift, and he almost blurted out asking if she truly intended to give such a gift to him. More than the artifact itself, the gesture of Tempest giving away something of her own was powerful. His voice broke slightly as he took the box, “I… I don’t know what to say..” He whispered quietly, overwhelmed with emotion as his eyes began to mist. Darth Raze had been the only other being in the galaxy to have possessed any shards.

It took a moment to get over the emotions and collect himself. He turned to her and offered her a smile, a dignified and princely smile. After all, if she was Niphredil, he was still the royal crown prince of Kressh.

“Have you ever ridden an eopie?” He asked, leading her down a path towards where two of the creatures were waiting. He would help her onto the back of one while he mounted another, “They will carry us across the dunes towards Dreshdae.”

@Altaris

 

[Darth Tempest]

Tempest couldn’t help the smirk that gradually spread across her expression. Even if Azar kept his emotions hidden from view, the Dark Lord could feel pulses that echoed through the Force all the same. She could sense the pride and determination that laced his voice - the astonishment upon being gifted a prize so great as a Shard of Palpatine. Only Raze had gathered other pieces of the Crown - each conveying a deeper understanding of and power within the Force.

“Your actions will speak for themselves, Master Kressh,” She said simply. The artifact would serve Azar well - who would, in turn, serve her well. It would make his conquest of the Sith Worlds all the easier to obtain. In time, the Dark Lord would turn her attention to the Shards left in the wake of Raze’s demise.

The Dark Lord followed Azar down the path - careful steps leading down the steep cliff and towards the two beasts waiting for them. They weren’t an uncommon companion of the merchants that often visited the old Imperial starport, though Vahliri had only ever traversed the dunes on speeders.

“Never,” She said simply, accepting his hand to swing her leg over the Eopie’s back. Her sat up straight and dignified within the saddle, one hand wrapped around the reins that drooped from the animal’s snout. “The Talbuk of my homeworld are rode by nobility and merchants alike. Not so different.” It was the only hint and confirmation of her Induparan heritage, aside from the accent that tinged her voice.

“You were previously exiled from Korriban - from the city of your birth.” She said after a moment - already beginning to ride alongside him, across the rolling and wind-swept dunes. From here, there was little sign of life or civilization on the horizon. No sense of the culture that Azar sought to rule over as his own.

“Why?”