Leaderboard

Children, nearly all of them children. It seemed like they lacked the capacity to speak without using barbed words, subtle jabs, and direct insults. All meaningless of course without the verity of combat or other means of measurable challenge. It was all posturing and bravado without the conviction to make any meaningful claims or reveal any quantified outcomes. Some were more guilty than others, but reforging them into a singular spearhead was more important than naming and shaming individual parties. It’s a shame Master Sheog wasn’t here, he probably would have eaten one of these pfaskers by now, and it would have been hilarious. Sound left the room, followed shortly thereafter by a perceived thinning of the air. A profound sense of emptiness saturated the room, an absence so great that its emptiness inexplicably created the sensation of sound and presence. A true manifestation of how many pfasks she had left to give. Sharpened wills numbed and dulled, words caught in the throat and refused to vacate, and the tyranny of the Dark Lady’s will held dominion over the room in all of its dark glory. “I came into this meeting thinking that we were all professional enough to keep the pettier aspects of our nature in check while we worked towards the betterment of our people and our place in the galaxy. My court is not a schoolyard for little boys to try and validate themselves by bullying each other. From now on you will keep civil tongues in your mouths while we are gathered for the purposes of planning and ceremony, or I will avail you of your tongues.” Now too did the sense of gravity and inner balance fade from the room, making standing a nigh impossible feat. Light itself fled from her presence, until the room was revealed only by the crimson hues of her visceral energies, pulsing and throbbing like a raging heart. From the ether the throaty chanting of ancient Sith traversed time and space to resonate within the chamber. This was the power, the legacy, of the throne that she had claimed. It was high time the others were reminded of it. She plucked Darth Mavanger out of that perilous abyss and steadied him, like a goddess plucking a stone and affixing it in the night sky as a moon, majestic in its own right but undeniably serving to reflect her own presence and purpose. “Warrior. Chain breaker. Conqueror of death. Warlord of the Southeast Quadrant. You have led our armies and our people in battle. You have struck down agents of our ancient foe in single combat. You have put the needs of the order above your own pride and ambition. I exalt you in front of our kin and release the title of master from my clenched gauntlet. May your blade sharpen when mine dulls.” She turned to Tros Ardell, who was not experiencing the same wrathful force as her unruly children. “It seems that my wayward underlings require an education in the fields of respect and hierarchy. I offer you the honor of leading the final preparations for our assault on Nar Shaddaa, with these Sith under your direct command. And if any of them get too uppity I give you my leave to shoot them. Use them as you see fit within their roles. Except for Darth Mavanger, I have a special task for him. As for those of you that have been so carelessly wagging about your barbed tongues, I am instituting a “Pfask about and find out” policy. Any unwarranted insult, any baseless accusation, any whispered snide remark, it will all be considered a matter of honor to be resolved in the ways of forebears, by means of single combat. Now, I have had taskmasters organize refreshments and entertainment in the palace’s feast hall. I encourage all of you to use this opportunity to find value in the skills and talents of your fellow Sith. I have no delusions of this assembly becoming fast and timeless friends, but you should endeavor towards at least professional courtesy as if your lives and livelihoods depended on it.”

Lok's gaze shifted toward KL-434, the Space Docks just a few blocks away and not that far off. It wasn't much of a trek, but as he looked the distance, he wondered if he could very well be classified as in fighting form. Physically, perhaps. Mentally, he was for sure the toll that the Altercation had taken. He seemed fine. He felt fine. He had guarded his mind well. But given what had happened to Mon Cal and what he had seen these past few days sent chills across his form. The Darkside was a powerful enemy. Still, his findings need to be reported personally. And if he felt that his mind was beginning to linger, he felt the Vice Admiral and Escort would be a safe space. Responding, Lok signalled his heading. "Reporting to KL-434. Skyshatter out." With an 'Arvoir' and bow of the head, Skyshatter said goodbye to Sir Tarko and Lady Andromina as he made his departure, the Stormtroopers confiscating the explosives along with the droid to be sent ahead to ISB for analysis. It honestly felt that the moment below was finally over and safety had been found despite the unease he felt within. But then again, Lok had always been over conscious when it came to mental attacks. They always tended to have a lasting and nasty effect. Scanning his Imperial ID at the Space Port check point and gaining entry, Lok walked along the gangplank until he came across the one numbered by the Guards. Stepping aboard, he didn't like the appearence of what he saw. There was much death here, the air sinister with foul intents. It almost mimicked the deep. And yet, amidst the fray, at the very center of the Bridge, he would find the beacon of light that Mon Cal begged for: Vice Admiral Kolchak. With a sharp salute, Lok presented himself. "Skyshatter reporting in, Vice Admiral, sir."