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Felucia - Jedi Temple


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Qaela vs Leena and Kadi

This was a tricky one to judge. Before I put up my ruling, I have a few notes below:

 

-Good job to everyone for taking damage without taking too much, and respecting each other's attacks. I thought it was well done from all sides.

-Kadi, I really appreciated the specifics of your attacks. Your posts felt very clear and concise with easy to visualize action, and that made them great to read.
-I really have to hand it to Qaela with how she handled fighting two opponents. I never felt like one opponent was being ignored or underestimated, and he did her best to act tactically the whole fight with attacks and reactions intended to rob her opponents of the edge given by their numbers.

-In particular, I like how Qaela used Leena's shockwave to propel her away from Kadi's attacks rather than stand her ground and take both.

-I do have to nitpick a little on Qaela's character sheet, as its equipment and abilities were fairly vague. "grenades when in combat" and "normal abilities for a master level character" weren't helpful for me to determine if the Force maelstrom or psychic attack she conjured was something that was within her wheelhouse, or if tear gas grenades were something she would normally have on her. However, I also understand that she justified in the post having the tear gas grenades specifically for the mission, and that the maelstrom is just an advanced form of telekinesis combined with scientific understanding, but having some detail on what she focuses on and what her arsenal consists of would be helpful in the future. Bottom line, I didn't really have a good feeling for her capabilities or limitations in this fight, though I never felt like you were exploiting that.

-Leena, judging from your abilities and the Healer’s guide you have linked in your character sheet, it seems you're using the Force Blind ability in your 1st round, which has a visible beam of light attached. I’d prefer if this was called out in your attack, as it's a bit vague here when “light” refers to actual light or the Light Side of the Force.

-Kadi, in your 2nd round, you post that you bat away the "force-propelled gas grenade". I don't think Qaela actually launched the grenade at you. In her post, “She kept one grenade where she was to cover the Zabrak”, implying she held onto it or dropped it on the ground.

-We're getting to the really minor stuff here, but Kadi, I would have liked some acknowledgement that the Acklay was charging towards and around an unnatural maelstrom of dark power. Given that it’s an animal (though admittedly one bonded to a Jedi), I would have liked it acknowledged that it was overcoming its instincts to serve its partner's needs. Again minor thing though.

 

So, with that out of the way, here's my ruling.

 

Leena defeats Qaela, Qaela defeats Kadi

 

With everyone bringing their A-game, and all parties using their abilities cleverly, I have to use the minor stuff to determine who comes out ahead. While Qaela was extremely good at fending off two opponents at once (and likely would have won if the power arrayed against her had been a little less), in the end I have to give the win to Team Jedi for their own tactical prowess in how they worked in tandem with Leena remaining in the back to support while Kadi spearheaded the attack, presenting a combination that was difficult to overcome. However, I also have to knock Kadi a little for the misinterpretation of Qaela's grenade attack. Again, with everyone being clever and using their abilities wisely and being respectful of the other writers, I need to use the little things to determine the outcome.


**edited**

Leena has the next post, but must leave Qaela able to physically escape. The result of her final Force Sever attack is hers to determine, as the victor. Qaela may post next, but must leave Kadi alive and intact. Kadi may post after.

**end of edit**

Great duel all around! With a two-on-one duel, this could have gone badly if the parties involved hadn't respected each other, and I think that a compelling fight like this is an accomplishment for all involved!

Edited addendum:
Qaela and Kadi, regardless of Qaela's choice, are out of further duels for planetary control. As the overall victor, Leena may determine the results of the NPC battle and its participants.

Edited by Krath Apothos
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The Rhythm of the winds changed, melding with the songs of sorrow. The Sentinel could feel its gentle whispers across her flesh, drawing the hair upon her arms to stand on end. It echoed inside of her, rebounding in the soul of that fell Krayt, Ysgithyrwyn Mwynfawr. Predators were upon the winds. She moved her hands from the body of the child, the burden of shame and sadness still heavy upon her mind, her heart a lump inside her chest.

 

She stared at the souls of the dead about her, emerald eyes still overflowing with tears. Probiscis flicked at the air, tasting the changing rhythms. Her fingers sought the briar heartwood of her lightsaber, drumming to the song upon the elongated handle. She felt as one amongst the corpses, letting their souls add to her song of mourning. Her locus of control expanded beyond herself

 

So many dead.

 

Kyrie turned as sound came, like the rushing of a rocket in a gale. The rhythm of the predator was growing nearer. It was not outright hostile, as the Sith always felt in the rhythm, but steadfast and resolute hunters. She saw them then, two of those that called themselves Mandalorians twenty meters away, clad in Black and Crimson. The Sentinel had heard that the Rebel Alliance had hired the Mand’alor for her services, perhaps they were friendly?

 

They were not. 

 

The calm, steady beat of predation formed into the heat of violence and the Jedi dove into a roll of her own, splashing into the fetid mud stained as red as Gadfruit Wine by the blood of children. A touch of fire scalded across her left forearm from a pistol shot. A blast from a rifle dug a furrow into her plasteel backpiece, the ARC-Armor distributing the kinetic shock evenly across her back.

 

The Sentinel hissed with pain as she continued her roll, adding the pain to her song as she shifted her rhythm from mourning to a reflection of the heart of Ysgithyrwyn Mwynfawr, the Krayt within. Crucitorn turned the edge the pain, reducing it to a throbbing that echoed her beat. She came from the ground in a spin, the saber-spear washing the world in silvered orange. Crimson mud streaked to orange as it fell from her armor. She ran, feeding the rhythm of the force into her speed and agility, as was natural for her lean body.

 

Her face was set into a grimace, not that of pain but of determination. The tears that ran down that pale canvass of freckled skin began to glow, infused with white, electrical light, evaporating into smoke and dust. She was a blur onto the wind, joining in its unending rush. Another rifle shot from the younger of the Mandalorians tore the quiver from her side, and she let it drop amongst the bodies. Its rhythm was not lost to her, and she kept it within her song.

 

Pale lips formed the words of ancient battle-songs as she advanced.  She asked permission of the souls, and forgiveness for desecration, but the dead only sang of vengeance. The Sentinel extended her locus of control, and a body moved from the ground as if brought momentarily to life. Deep sadness rushed into her song, flooding into her very core, allowing the pain to rise again.  Flesh was not given life, but the body moved at her command, launched in a leap of limp limbs towards the younger Mandalorian (Kot’dral Duvul), propelled by the force. Following after whipped a fine-pointed knife from the belt of the Sentinel, cracking towards the man at parabolic angle.

 

To the older Mandalorian (Tros), the Sentinel advanced, channeling the speed of the wind and the controlled intensity of a Krayt. She angled to the man’s right, intending to keep both opponents on one side of her body. She would not allow herself to be flanked. Nail-bitten fingers twisted the spear in a flurry of silver-orange light. Her forearm smarted as her arms moved, and the woman’s grimace deepened.

 

She transferred her stance to Thyssian as she ran, sacrificing defense for the swift offensive capabilities of a speardancer. She cut at the Mandalorian with a deft strike, intending to bisect the man from his left pauldron through his navel and out through the right hip. She hummed the songs of war, tinged as it was with the sorrows of the dead about her. 

 

((1))

 

Takes a grazing hit on the forearm from Tros’ pistol shot and one on the backplate from Kot’dral. Sends a body and stiletto knife flying at Kot’dral and strikes at Tros with a saber-spear cut.

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The living force surged through the Jedi Healer as her will and it’s own coalesced as one. The dark storm that ravaged overhead suddenly lessened in intensity as the healer struck. The living force glowed about the battlefield, illuminating the lives of Jedi, man, beast, and plant; driving back the darkness in it’s path forwards and outwards

 

The power of Leena’s attack struck the Sith with full intensity, bypassing her armor and defenses as it drove it’s way through metals and flesh without hindrance or damage until it struck at the root of the problem: the evil that was intertwined about the witch’s heart. It struck with the power of a hammer, driving like a nail against the darkness until the darkness shattered sending a shockwave of dark energy echoing the battlefield; hurling Leena, Kadi, and the acklay backwards to the ground.

 

The witch, at the center of the vortex of light, collapsed. The metaphysical power that sought to purge her soul became physical; the tendrils of energized light chased after the darkness as it sought to flee flooding the wake of darkness with a warm glow of comfort and life, forcing the storm up and away from the combat that was beginning to wane all about them. 
 

The explosive internal battle of the light and dark sides of the force was powerful enough that it tossed Qaela through the air, above the trees and into the sky, only for her body tumble haplessly back towards the ground. The entire time, the living force surged and purged, seeking any crevice that the darkness might hide in and exposing it’s content to the blazing light. Even the Sith’s skin glowed, piercing through the cracks in her armor, as she rushed past limbs and leaves, slowing slightly as she became entangled in the swinging vines and brush, coming to a stop just before she struck the ground, cradled and entwined by the foliage of the planet. Her glowing form would not extinguish back to normal until the last vestiges of darkness were cast out. The force raced through the slack Sith’s form, tracing along nerves and blood vessels, bones and muscles, tissues and tendons. Not a cell would be left untouched. Darkness was removed and the bit of light that could be found bolstered. The healing energies of the Jedi rejuvenating the woman’s decrepit flesh and worn body erasing years of dark side drainage in moments.

 

When it was done, the light that radiated from Qaela’s skin would fade, leaving her feeling refreshed and confused. Her life was returned to her; but her mastery of the force was gone. The world about her would be as unto any other, a place of life and wonder with an odd sense of something out of place in the jungles of Felucia. Gone would be her connection and control of the force, her manipulations of and by the dark side severed by the light side of the force. As with much of medicine, the final outcome rested with the will and strength of the patient. After three-ish days, the shunt that prevented the Sith from touching the force would dissolve, as would the healing it offered. Only by a continuation of will by Qaela herself, and a rejection of the darkness, would the healing become permanent. Similarly, only by her own mental block would the Nightsister’s hampering of the force continue beyond. It was all Leena could do to save a life that many would have ended.

 

The healer had little more time to concern herself with the Sith as the attack was no longer pressed. She had her friend and ally to think of and the remnants of the storm driven high above to contain as it’s fuel source was extinguished. 

 

Even as the living force swirled about her, churning into a froth of tidal energy as it radiated through and from the Jedi, Leena turned her laser scalpel focus back to the chaos at hand. The Sith’s powers had ravaged the environment and even as her arm ached against the scorch of lightning, so too did her comrade-in-arms require aid. As the surge of light side energies ebbed from their onslaught, Leena gently pressed them, echoes of calmness radiating about the clearing. She turned, looking for Kadi and warily eying the green-shelled acklay from a distance. 


“We are alive and the threat has passed my friend. Come, let me aid you in your healing.” she offered, reattaching her saber to her belt, sensing in the distance that though their fight may be over, the onslaught of darkness was not.  She reached  down to pick up the fallen spear of the witch, eying it momentarily before stabbing it into the ground.  That could be dealt with in a moment; but for now, it was not a threat. They would need to be at their best to help the locals, contain any captured foes, and combat any other Sith that might present themselves a threat. “I suspect that the Mistress of Darkness will no longer be a threat to us for a time. I hope that this battle will be a turning point in her life and that she might begin coming back to the light.”
 

The storm clouds tumbled and surged overhead, their power torn from them by the natural wind currents of the planet; their lightning unable to reach the ground as it rose higher and higher, weakening in the light of the sun. 


In the dense undergrowth all about them, the Squibian allies of the healer had an advantage. Small and lithe they could slip over and under vines, brush, and branches in the shadowy environment. Outnumbered and outgunned the squirrelly beings engaged in a sort of hit and fade style of guerilla warfare, drawing the Sith forces deeper into the jungles before vanishing and attacking from another angle and vantage point. In groups of twos and threes, the worked tirelessly, descending on the soldiers of the Sith Empire as soon as they fell from view of their comrades. Those that surrendered were quickly bound and stripped of their weapons. Those that did not were extinguished in balls of explosive flame, blaster fire, and gnawing teeth.  Not all of the Squibs faired well. Some of their own succumbed to the assaults of the enemy. Bolstered by their Jedi comrades and the will of the force as it surged in what they could only describe as ‘magic’, the Squibian forces carried the day. As the storm overhead dissipated, they marched a tired and worn group of Sith soldiers, their hands bound about their heads, into the clearing. Many of the diminutive creatures sported a variety of gear and weapons striped from their prisoners. All about them was an aura of gritty confidence. The day was not over, but for now, they had won. What these w had was by all rights their to claim, their lives, the Squibs’ to barter with. It was not the Jedi way; but Leena knew better than to question it. They were not Jedi and she was not a Squib. Yet they remained stalwart allies.

 

 

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The blaster barrage began a very successful movement of the jetii until she caught her wits about her and forced movement in a way that she attempted to push both Tros and Kot’dral on a less offensive front and instead on the more defensive front. A single curse went through his mind and almost as soon as he thought it, a body went flying towards Kot’dral in a very fast rapid motion. There was a loud thud, followed by a grunt. Tros made the small mistake of turning to see what happened, only to realize his opponent who was far deadlier than some random soldier was still in front of him. 

 

Turning to look at the jetii, the distinct hum of a lightsaber in motion caught his ear before he even saw it. Turning instinctively to protect himself, his blaster in his left hand was cut through cleanly before he was able to get his vambraces up in a v formation, protecting him from any further damage. The pure beskar vibrated as the blade against it, while making no progress, still threatened with heat and the constant vibration. The tactical pad on the left vambrace began to spark as the blade was able to damage basic functions of the pad. The blaster in his right hand had dropped to the ground and Tros stared at it for a moment before a flash of words went across his HUD. 

 

::Dampeners up-Sonic incoming:: 

 

Using the controls within his HUD, he quickly put up his dampeners as his own peripheral vision caught sight of the sonic detonator mid air near both jetii and Tros. Quickly he pushed back and rolled backwards in an attempt to break free from what would have resulted in certain death had he remained where he was without support. Coming out of the roll, Tros hit his right vambrace, utilizing the flamethrower in a quick short burst. Nothing that the jetii would be able to avoid. It was simply a tactic employed to get space from his attacker. After the burst finished, Tros stood up and picked up his other blaster. Kot’dral on the other hand activated his personal shield and withdrew his vibroblade and charged the jetii head on with the knife still in his ribcage just below his main armor. Tros simply took aim with his blaster and fired off a few rounds.

 

((2)) 

Tros lost a blaster and his tactical pad to the lightsaber strike, Kot'dral took a knife to his ribs. Kot'dral tossed a sonic detonator at Kyrie and Tros gave a burst of his flamethrower. Finished off with Kot'dral charging Kyrie and Tros firing a few rounds at her. 

Tros_Sig_4.png

Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore.

 

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𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

 

As the storm raged, the area around the clearing became darker, lit only by flashes of lightning and the flares of blaster bolts. The energy it took to create such a storm took much out of Qaela, but its potential for destruction was great. She could sense the attacks of the Jedi coming for her as they struggled through the storm and gales of wind and moved to avoid the strikes.

 

She managed to evade the slashes of the Zabrak, but in doing so, she fell into the blinding light of the Mon Calamari's strike and her world dissolved into whiteness.

 

* *                                      * *

 

Qaela woke up with her helmet off, staring into the ceiling of the shuttle she had arrived on Felucia in. She struggled to make her mouth form words, but one of the commandos put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Turgin came back for us when he saw the storm," the soldier said. "I won't pretend to know what happened, but the storm and the damned furries pushed us back. We found your unconscious body seventy meters from the clearing and got you on board. Only four of us made it out, but we did take some of them out with us."

 

It took a little longer than it should to process that because she was still groggy and disoriented, but there was something else clearly wrong. She felt physically intact, but there was something missing. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized she could no longer touch the Force. Perhaps she had burned herself out with the storm, but she suspected that blasted Mon Calamari did something to her.

 

The shuttle climbed out of the atmosphere of Felucia away from any of the other fighting and made the jump to hyperspace. They would rendezvous with the Herløv while she decided what to do about this. She clearly couldn't return to the rest of the Sith until she figured out what was going on with her ability to touch the Force. Being on board the Star Destroyer would be an opportune place for her to figure out what was happening while in a safe place.

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Send PM's to Travis.

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Kadi staggered to her feet, leaning on her spear. At first, she ignored the other Jedi's words- there was a sadness in her as she saw the battered form of the Rancor. The beast had been caught in the Sith's storm, and was hurting. She limped towards it, reaching out with the Force to soothe its rage. What was done to it was unforgivable- its mind was dominated, it was forced to fight, and then it was abandoned as though it were merely a tool. It visibly began to calm. Her injuries ached, but she used the force to soothe the pain of the beast, reaching out softly. The Rancor responded- it was still a wild animal, but for now, it was docile.

 

"Go, friend. Your pain is over. You can return to your life."

 

She watched as it snorted, turning and lumbering back into the forest. She wouldn't maintain the link- it wasn't her place to interfere with the Rancor any further. She sighed, turning to face Leena.

 

"You shouldn't have let her go, Master Leena. She was their leader- she ordered them to wipe out an entire village. And for what? Wanton cruelty? That is not the type of behavior that self-corrects like you hope. She will kill more people. She will continue to warp the world around her, to twist its beauty into violence and hatred. When you asked earlier why we fight... To stop her. To stop people like her who without our direct intervention, will go on to kill thousands. I hope you are right. I hope that you prove me wrong and that she stops her life of violence. But I know that she will not."

 

And it wasn't just the Rancor she had damaged- the very weather around them still buzzed with the Dark Side, waiting on a hair trigger to be whipped up once more into the cruel mockery of what natural processes would normally occur. Unfortunately, she would have to trust the healer to fix that- her own abilities were always more physical that spiritual, with the exception of her ability to bond with creatures.

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Leena offered a brief warm smile towards Kadi, “I am sorry that you feel that way. Sometimes to live is a fate worse than death. To live and to die is the will of the force. Regardless, I sensed some good in the dark sorceress. I touched it, amplified it. She cannot use the darkness anymore. Somehow I think the Sith will find her more a liability than an asset now. Regardless, she has been given the chance we all hope for when we stumble, a chance to be be forgiven. Her fate is in the hands of the force. You will have to suffice yourself with that. I will not stoop to the level of our enemy. Ours is the cause of righteousness. Let us not taint it. Let me tend to your wounds” 

 

As she spoke, Leena moved closer to the Jedi, reaching out a cool hand to guide the healing waves of the force as she probed the naturalist’s wounds and urged her body to begin anew purging any foreign contaminants and beginning to knit themselves back together at an accelerated rate.

 

“Many of the Sith’s soldiers, some pressed into service, some not knowing any different life, and others controlled by fear and lies, have been captured. If you would please escort them back to the Temple. We can yet help them as well. Their fates will be determined by the authorities. I will go seek our foe. If she can be found, she too will be brought to stand trial.” she spoke as she mended the worst of Kadi’s injuries so as to allow her and her acklay companion to move freely. When she was finished, she offered a hand to Kadi in friendship before nodding to her Squibian companions. They would not part with their charges readily; but would help ensure that they remained relatively unharmed. To negotiate with them was for the Alliance. Right now, other darknesses needed the Healer’s attention.

 

Setting off into the jungle, Leena began to search for Qaela, reaching out on the waves of the living force, finding good where it might glimmer and amplifying it; surrounding herself in light side energies and forcing the darkness back wherever she moved.

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There’s a sensation tied to absence, to the sudden jolting realization that there is a void that was once occupied. Even for all of its subtlety, the absence of the Dark Lord’s presence was starkly apparent, the way that breathing was an action rarely noticed by the mind until it stopped. The full meaning of Exodus handing her his lightsaber crystalized rapidly, and she realized that she was even more without guidance than she had initially realized.

 

That mother pfasker…

 

She didn’t know if he had decided to slip away from it all, or if he was pursuing some power beyond the physical plane, rumors had been spreading of the Dark Lord experimenting with something that could have only been called abyssal. Perhaps his doom had been foretold in waking dreams by those gifted with the talent of prophecy. Regardless, if it had been a temporary thing he would not have expressed his intent by a literal passing of the torch, a simple order or directive would have sufficed.

 

Further probes revealed that Qaela was noticeably absent as well. The troops that they had brought with them were well trained and armed, but not likely a match for the Jedi that were present. The light of the Jedi barely felt diminished and the Sith were down two masters. If every element of the force had struck at once then they should have been able to rupture the Jedi lines and mopped up the survivors, but piecemeal the assault would fail. She needed to preserve and withdraw what assets were left and rendezvous with the Sith forces in the south eastern quadrant, while delaying any pursuit.

 

Darth Nyrys let the fear and uncertainty coil in her breast, only to be consumed by her as power. The girl that would have let such things rule her had been utterly obliterated on Onderon, the remnants ground to dust. With that power she strode across the surface of the glade wreathed in unnatural fog, like a waking nightmare.

 

“Felucia, once a bastion of the Dark and known for its reservoirs of unnatural energies, an odd place to sequester refugees when the Sith are on the warpath. It almost seems as if someone amongst your own intended to invite bloodshed upon them.”

 

There were Sith that could interweave spells and curses with words to befuddle and sway the mind, but Darth Nyrys was not one of them. Perhaps though her words would prove more effective without such tricks, as they were able to stand on their own validity and logic.  

NYRYS.png

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The Force felt different, but why Sandy did not know.

 

“There was a hope, I think, that you would not look here. We were wrong as we often have been and innocents paid the price for that. ”

 

Sandy shook her head sadly, her right hand still lightly resting on the edge of her belt where the clip of her lightsaber was notched. Her clear green eyes looked into the dead and reflective visor of the Sith’s helmet. She wished for a moment that she could see the other woman’s face, to discern how she really felt. So she probed with a question as she took another step forward.

 

“But why do you care? Too many innocents have already died here, and though you may wish to pin their deaths on our historical incompetence, I would challenge you to come and see the destruction your men and fellow Sith have already laid here on innocents.” 

 

She waved her arm towards the distant smoking village then looked back at the Sith Warrior. This woman was an enigma. Not much younger than Sandy herself, but full of power. What had brought her into the clutches of the Sith? What decisive tale of woe? 

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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"I would not call those savages "my men", they were agents of another's design, whose chapter in history has come to a close. Your own hounds are doing me a favor by cleansing them. The Spider thought that he could rule the galaxy through a quiet fear, just as your own people believe that hope can create a gentle kingdom encircled by spears. Or should I say Empire, your rebellion is led by an empress is it not? An empress whose throne world is known to the Empire and yet has somehow against all belief escaped reprisal from a Dark Lord known for making symbolic gestures? When people are afraid, dictators and despots are often recast in the eyes of the desperate as heroes and liberators. The Dark Lord mentioned having something planned for Nar Shaddaa through his agents, but I hold no quarrel with the populace of that planet, they've been through enough with the quiet purges that no one is talking about. Perhaps if you leave now you can save the ones that are left. Tick tock, Jedi, tick tock."

 

The mist gathered around Nyrys in roiling clouds, dissipating to reveal nothing but the echo of her her words.

 

-----------------------------

 

"Withdraw the remainder of our forces, commanders. The Dark Lord is gone, may the Dark Queen Nyrys reign as long as her blade remains sharp."

 

There was going to be a moment of breathless vacuum that would feel like an eternity where the Sith would decide whether to accept or challenge Nyrys's claim. The most likely challenger in terms of raw power was her old master, the Krath sorcerer Sheog, but he struck her as beyond the political struggles of the Sith, his thoughts consumed almost entirely by his need to satiate his hunger. Even so, the hutt was wise and no stranger to battle, perhaps he would accept an offer of acting as her vizier. There had been much talk among the Sith of Darth Mavanger and the campaign that he was leading, but he had not yet been exalted to the rank of master, so a bid for Dark Lord now would be premature. Combining forces with him would give her a chance to demonstrate her abilities to the other Sith on the grand theater stage of military pomp and pageantry. His natural charisma and momentum would be valuable assets if he was willing to fall in line. 

 

She ordered encrypted communiques sent to Krath Sheog and Darth Mavanger. She also would need to quickly fill the ranks of the Sith armies with effective soldiers, so she sent another encrypted message to Delta. She didn't know if she had all of the words to express her feelings on the reality of becoming the ruler of the Sith Empire to someone who was a confidante and lover, nor did she want such information getting to the wrong hands, so she left it at they would talk in person soon.  Finally, as her ship was leaving the planet's orbit she requested a special fabrication from one of the shipbound engineering teams, a tungsten spear the size of which made it impractical for any mortal warrior to wield.

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