Victorious No More

[Darth Tagus]

Darth Victress was dead.

This was news to some and not to others - apparently most battles these days ended up on the holonet in one form or another and Victress' defeat had been reported to the Sith Order in rather short order. A tomb had been readied for one of the Dark Council to die as far back at the time of the Old Empire and the Republica's little tiff.

How long ago that had been.

The remains of Victress had been laid to rest within the casket within the main hall of the rather blank tomb (it hadn't been personalized at all of course) and Tagus stepped up to the raised dais. Sith from across the Order had been welcomed to the funeral of Darth Victress.

Tagus, personally, thought it was an utter waste of time.

Just like their first real meeting, where he had called Victress out for her funeral for the nameless Sith who had died during her campaign. It had been a plea for attention and it had gathered her the wrong kind at the time.

Standing beside the stone casket, Tagus patted the stone-carved face of Victress' death mask.

"We gather to honor the passing of Victress."

His gauntlet's fingertips dug into the stone of the casket a little.

"She fought against our enemy to her last breath. Remember her for that, even if you saw nothing else of her life. Remember her for her battle against our foes."

Tagus leaned in close to the casket as though to saw a private farewell. Instead he hissed low and quiet, a secret between himself and the corpse.

"Your death was supposed to serve me and you cheated me of it... your final victory, old friend."

Standing up again, Tagus moved away from the casket to address whomsoever had arrived to pay their respects.

"My brothers and sisters I ask you this; what will you do now? What will you do now that Victress lays dead, yet another of our number slain by the Mandalorians?"

Spoiler: OOC

No PvP, Death Disabled, Open to Sith Only

 

[Taalong Vorr]

The death of Darth Victress had come as a surprise to Taalong Vorr. His thoughts on the Sith had been mixed, and nothing if not marred and shaped by the viewpoints of others. It was not an uncommon feeling among many of the Sith. He had never formally been introduced to her. She was a Sith of substantial standing before Taalong Vorr had even been found on the harsh landscape of Kalee, and her power was spoken of even then.

Vorr's view had been shaped by Darth Tagus in no small part. He knew and could sense the utter distaste the Sith held for the deceased. There was a time that the two, bitter rivals, could have been guessed to kill each other before either could ascend to rule. Moreover, many would have seen Darth Victress as the more likely to be head of the Sith state. She was known for grand campaigns, one of which Vorr himself had ventured upon. She was a skilled commander and a cunning warrior, worthy of all the admiration of a Crusader such as himself.

But Vorr had been oathed to call Darth Tagus Master. It was he who was to be followed, and Vorr saw Victress the same as his Master... as a show off, a miscreant, and a false idol for fools that hoped to achieve glory. Many had been crushed under the weight of her forces, but those troopers and acolytes that followed her had died in vain the same as she had. For that Empire that she fought for was as dead as she was.

Taalong Vorr stood still, his ragged robes and armor worn no different the if it were any other occasion. He silently breathed through his war mask, listening to the words of Darth Tagus, and looking upon the cold tomb, which held the fallen Sith.

Darth Tagus looked to those that stood there, and asked what answer they would give. He held his words to himself for the moment, but stayed near enough to answer. He was no great orator, his skills were different then that. Here he would wait and speak when, or if, it became necessary.

 

[Julias Tannaras]

It almost seemed out of place for him to be attending. But he had witnessed the sparring match between the Mandalorian and the Darth. He had watched them go back and forth. One would think the young Sith whose origins were entirely pompous and aristocratic, and whose interests were almost exclusively in fields that didn't much involve the clashing of sabers, the explosions of grenades and the sounds of blaster fire- well, one would think he would either not care at all, or be so blinded by a sense of self righteous superiority that he couldn't have possibly imagined any other outcome besides Victress' final victory.

But that wasn't what he saw while the belligerents met and fought. He saw only conflict. Only the raw clash of emotion and will as an overwhelming backdrop that hung over a pair of opponents.

It was surreal. Perhaps it was the nature of the Sith to have a fascination with death. The Sith code focused upon the teachings of freedom, breaking chains, overcoming boundaries. But this was the one boundary not a single soul to ever exist had ever, would ever, or could ever defy. All that lives would innevitably die. None could break the chains that bound them to the inevitable fate of death.

But he had been pulled away from his original train of though, away from those of the Sith lord herself.

Every move the two had made, he was surprisingly impartial to. Up until the end he genuinely had no clue about who would inevitably succeed. Would it be that badger, or whatever he called himself, or that snake of a woman whose venom was that of lighting and whose fangs were those of the force? Perhaps the badger had an edge in defeating snakes, but the snake in question was one of the biggest snakes any could every try and bite the head off of.

Perhaps, deep down, he was afraid of what a badger could do to a much smaller snake. What it could do to any who stood before him.

It was fear that had brought Julias here, to this soon to be very dark and very empty crypt. It didn't show upon his face, but someone feeling him specifically would feel the ripples of uncertainty, the waves of unease, and direct it back to him.

He didn't attempt to hide it. He'd close his eyes for a brief moment, and open them once more. It was gone- buried. The little echoes had been snuffed out at the source, and that source had been placed in the deepest recesses of his soul. He'd pull it out again, along with all it's brothers of terror and horror, when he finally required it.

Taking one last look back upon the Sarcophagus, he would think for a moment.

"And upon this the Sith would see another fall. Fear, anger, hate. Boiling and churning, the wave of the dark side threatening to engulf any. Ride the storm this one created."

He had thought of better things to say, but if it was his true heart that had spoken, he doubted many fewer would appreciate it. He was not in a continued mood to care though. He had to leave this planet. A breathe of refreshment and relaxation would do him well.

 

[Jayscreec Alecwit]

It was merely an accident that Jayscreec attended the funeral. He landed on Korriban to request a hearing with the Dark Lord of The Sith, even unaware how things shaped out until he reached the planet. Since Jay was already here, so was Darth Victress, it was most appropriate to pay his last respects.

Would they let me see her? Jay wondered as he walked to the tomb. After all, he was not a Sith. He was a military leader. Since he wore his insignia plaque the guards saluted him, they had to. That was it, that simple. He walked in.

Jay had had never seen any of the Emperors before. Tagus seemed to be open about himself, probably he had nothing to fear in the bastion of Sith, surrounded by his allies. Not that Jay could lift a finger to hurt him, neither intended to.

Tagus's words brought goose bumps to Jay's arms. The Sith's words found listening ears, because he actually gave it a thought. He gave it many thoughts before, had ideas he wanted to share with Victress. But he couldn't anymore, not with her. When Tagus finished Jay looked into his eyes, and felt like he was starring at him. A sensation overwhelmed Jay, that someone had to answer, and this person would rather be him than no one. Even if it wasn't true, he believed Tagus watched him, like he - here a nobody - was expected to reply. And yet, he was honest, and willing to act. "Kill," Jay said. His throat was dry and somewhat tense. He looked around and repeated himself. "I am going to kill them. I vow to the Dark Lord."

@Morse @Nefieslab

 

[Darth Inheris]

Inheris watched from a distance the funeral for Victress.

She still remembered their first meeting, how long ago now, in the fires of Hutta, some duel where Victress, though that wasn't her name yet, managed to push her back.

And for what? Inheris asked herself now. The Civil War, those skirmishes and battles for a broken peoples they had. It was good it ended like it had, a quick blow confirming it one way or another. She had to laugh, if she hadn't known the right people, the former Emperor at that, she would have kept on fighting for that pointless struggle rather than finding her place now.

A place where she had stood at Victress's side on many an occasion, often in battle. Perhaps that first meeting had framed their relationship from then on. And now she was in the ground. Such was life. Certainly it was in the Sith. And as Tagus had offered his challenge to the room, Inheris kept her place at the rear.

She had her own challenge to meet to make sure she wasn't the next Councillor to find themselves dead and buried.

 

[Kalanda Tishire]

These were trying times indeed. Kalanda kept to the back, watching the procession from a distance. She didn't want to draw attention to herself, least not yet. She pulled her hood over her head before moving on wards, her mind lingering to rather dark thoughts. She had only brief meetings with the Dark Lady herself, was even an apprentice to her own apprentice before Mid disappeared into force knows where. An empty tomb for someone so loyal to the cause. Time would pass, and none would know of her efforts, of her sacrifice. That was rather depressing indeed. Whatever legacy Victress wished to carry on, it would have to come by way of mouth, by the influence she had over those that knew her. What a fragile way to linger about, what a pitiful existence it was to be Sith. It didn't sit right with Kalanda, not one bit.

Having reached the back of the funeral gathering, Kalanda turned her gaze towards the casket, knowing that all that power the woman known as Victress once held was as meaningless as the tomb she was to dwell in. Was this the fate of all Sith Lords? It might as well have been. Holding on to the faintest fragments of power, trying in vain to merge them together, to make something out of nothing. What glory was there in that? The Sith Empire that Kalanda had grown up under was no more, a mere shadow of itself. She had thought that maybe, just maybe the Sith had what was needed to bring balance to this galaxy, to purge the galaxy of Mandalorians and Jedi, and anything else that got in the way of the system. But one by one, she was seeing this great empire for what it really was. A farce. Kalanda's eyes looked upon those gathered here, then to Tagus up in front, before letting her eyes fall onto the casket of Victress. This wouldn't be the end of the Darth, no, Kalanda would ensure her legacy wasn't going to be this empty tomb. A sad smile crossed her features, as the desolate valley of Korriban seemed to roar in agreement with her. This empire was not going to last.

 

[Kyorus Draxx]

The death of the Darth had spread far enough that even Kyorus, a somewhat reclusive Sith, had heard of her passing. However he felt out of place, his sudden disappearance may not have been noticed, however this didn't stop Kyorus feeling as though his presence was unneeded, after all he was a lowly acolyte, a mere speck compared to the masters of the force who surrounded the once great Sith's tomb. However this tragedy was not why he had returned. Kyorus had returned for one reason and one reason only. He felt lost.

It was the figure conducting the ceremony who had brought him back from the uninhabitable depths of the galaxy. The Darth may not have remembered him, however his guidance during a diplomatic mission to Nimban had stuck with Kyorus. Kyorus felt that he may find wisdom within his words once again in hopes that they would reinforce his faith in the Sith. Kyorus believed he may have been right as during that exact moment the Darth seemed to address a question to the masses. The question had definetely invoked a mix of emotions, even Kyorus felt somewhat encouraged. Although he felt however that he would be wise to stay quiet and to simply observe for now. Perhaps returning was the spark he needed after all.