WHERE ALLEGIANCES LIE
A Prelude to a Prelude
Written by @Darth Kain, @corinthia, and @Dark Lady Makaria
A Prelude to a Prelude
Written by @Darth Kain, @corinthia, and @Dark Lady Makaria
Today was the day. The hour was upon them, and there would be no more waiting. The fate of the Final Sith Order rested in their hands. If only they knew it in that very moment.
The sun had only just begun its descent, plenty of the day still left here on this side of Pyxis. The temple of the Sith stood mighty upon the side of its great mountain: shrouded on either side by verdant green, its spires rose above the treetops with grandeur, soaking up the golden afternoon sun. Pennants of emerald green limned with brilliant bronze fluttered in the high breeze, proudly announcing whose residence this was.
And the inside was as the outside– the throneroom was a light, airy courtyard decorated liberally with greenery, with tapestries of the finest craftsmanship bearing the starburst sigil of the Hesperians hanging on the pillars which comprised the edges of this room, if it could be called such. Above the throne, a sculpture wrought of shining bronzium hung from invisible wires, a stunning dimensional artwork of that same symbol, its rays stretching outward like a halo of divine light from the head of whoever sat upon the cathedra below it.
Standing before that throne were two individuals, both the subject of undeniable stares from the guardsmen stationed among the pillars. One was a Dark Councillor, newer to the highest echelons of power within the Order but still well-respected for her loyal service to the Imperatrix. The other was not of the Sith. She was a creature that had grown renowned throughout the galaxy as the herald of Kain and his closest advisor. And though these guards had no doubt heard of her, it was not her reputation that drew their attention. It was, frankly, her appearance.As a Hasturan, Pandora stood far taller than any other here, and her horns stretched even higher. Her wings, though withdrawn, would no doubt extend to twice the length of her already-substantial size. She was no warrior, however. A gown was what adorned her this afternoon, tailored to her perfectly and dyed the shade of charcoal. Her hands were folded in front of her, a device nestled in her grasp.
The Dark Lady next to her was practically a riot of color in comparison. Her many-layered gown of black, grays, and reds made her almost as wide as she was tall. The silver of the embroidery caught the light of this green place, and she seemed a smoldering ember in it. But for all her color, she was a slight thing, towered over by the Hasturan, though her face was as serene and relaxed as though she brought a trusted aide into the Imperial presence.
Perhaps she had. The Dark Lady had gone on some unknown errand and returned with the presumed-dead Kain’s herald. If any were to trust his word, it would be his apprentice. The guards kept their wary glances on the herald, on her great wings tucked away, the way the light reflected off her horns. There were so many questions to be had, and not all the guards were certain how things would play out.
It was then that the Empress entered: escorted by three shadowing ladies-in-waiting wearing the telltale veils of the Hesperians, Darth Hesper wore the simplest of gowns, a rippling satin dress of the deepest crimson. It trailed behind her like a rivulet of blood, and pooled around her feet as she perched herself upon the bronzed cathedra. The three handmaids sat dotingly on the steps by the Empress’ bare feet, their veiled faces turned towards her radiance. Hesper said nothing, waiting for Lady Makaria and the other one to speak first.
Makaria took the signal, falling to her knees in a rippling pool of fabric. The swing of her arms was perfect, her sleeves perfectly splayed, her hands perfectly aligned, and her forehead pressed between them to the cold floor. It was the greatest bow she knew, the purest submission.
“Imperial Majesty, this humble advisor is grateful to be granted an audience with you,” the Dark Lady proclaimed with a face that didn’t even twitch as she changed registers to something so self-effacing. “I have gone on a journey and have brought back with me an emissary of an old and beloved comrade. May this one beg pardon to speak?”Hesper shifted her body, and imperceptibly turned her chin. "Speak, Dark Lady."
Makaria acknowledged this permission by sitting up, her spine perfectly straight and her shoulders a gentle slope. “I was contacted some days ago to attend a certain meeting, led by my former Master, our dearly departed Lord Kain. He has established himself on Hastur, and met with several old friends and comrades to speak with them. He bade me speak with you, to bring tidings of friendship and goodwill. He also bade me speak to you about the Shadow Beings, who can twist any vision to their own need and cruel will.”
“With me is Kain’s emissary, whom I ask of you to look upon and receive his message,” Makaria finished, her eyes carefully trained on the steps.
Pandora had not prostrated herself upon the floor as Makaria had. Instead, she provided a polite bow befitting of greeting a foreign royal. With her head held low, one could see how she could easily impale a full-grown man with those horns of hers. And when she stood back to full height again, she extended her hands, revealing the device nestled inside them: a holocommunicator.
The press of a button on its side elicited the spark of cerulean light, flickering and wavering for a moment before presenting the shape of an all-too-familiar man. It was Kain, dressed in full regalia with a crown resting atop his head. He had fallen into his role perfectly.
A flicker of emotion played across Hesper’s face. Her scarred eye glimmered. "Play the message, then," she said.
As if on cue, the projected foot-tall image began to move, as if a statue had been given life. The holographic Kain straightened his posture, placing his hands behind his back.
“Empress Hesper, I greet you once again.” His voice was much more controlled and even here than in their first meeting. “It has come to my attention that you have suffered the same visions my daughter has. Glimpses of a future where I raise my son and harness his innate abilities to conquer the known galaxy. These are lies, twisted prophecies created by creatures in service to the one that Typhojem served - the Father of Shadows. Such visions have been plaguing seers across the galaxy, not only in the Sith Order but also in the Jedi. It is an attempt to villainize both myself and my family, to further our divides, and make us easier pickings when the onslaught of Ooradryl arrives.
“To provide evidence that the Shadow Beings of Dark Illathurion are responsible for this, I have sent warriors to capture a survivor of the True Sith War, a Pureblood Sith named Daritha Nephthys. She has been a True Sith agent for centuries, and is one of the heralds of Ooradryl’s arrival.
“Beyond this, I am organizing a peace summit with all major players in the known galaxy. Whether they are in Federation space, Sith space, or anywhere in between. The threat must be made known, and we must unite to face it despite our differences. I would be honored if you attended. My chief advisor, Pandora, can provide any further details you need. May the Force serve you well, Empress Hesper. I hope we can resolve this amicably, so we may save the galaxy once again.”
Hesper leaned, propping an elbow on the arm of her throne and fitting her chin into her hand. Her distaste for Kain was a bitter taste in her mouth, especially as she thought back to his intrusion into her bed chamber in the dead of night. She sucked her teeth. There was something else looming. "Very well, then," she said, and flicked her eyes to Makaria again. "Inform Kain I will be at this summit."
Makaria bowed again, her gaze downcast as she straightened. “This advisor is humbled that her Imperial Majesty will grace this summit with her presence, and is both gracious and magnanimous in her decision.”
Pandora’s face was cold and stern. She made no notion that she held any emotion at all, even as Hesper made sure to repeatedly address Makaria rather than her. It was as expected. Kain had prepared her for this meeting, and had made a point that there would be little they’d say to her. He had been right.
With the message played and the holographic image of Kain fizzled into nothingness, she withdrew the holocommunicator and gave another polite bow to the Empress and the Dark Lady. Her steps, surprisingly light for someone of her size, clicked on the way out of the throne room, withdrawing further and further away until the harbinger of the Beloved King was gone.
Makaria stayed on her knees until even the echoes of Pandora’s steps had faded. With only the rustling of her clothes, she got to her feet in the quiet stillness left behind from the herald’s message. She looked to her Empress, waiting for the next move.
The Empress stood as well, and her handmaids followed suit. “Come with me,” she said, gesturing to Makaria with her chin. With a wave of her hand Hesper dispersed the handmaids, who frittered away and seemed to vanish into the foliage decorating the throne’s courtyard. Her guards remained stock still, as if they, too, were carved of the same larmal as the columns. Hesper held out a hand towards the archway she had entered from.
Makaria strode forward at once, following Hesper with unquestioning obedience through the archway, though she kept a careful distance. Even now, she could not trust what eyes could be attempting to peer at them. What incredible powers could be peeling back the layers on this sanctuary to ensure that plans came to fruition.
She led Makaria down an arrow-straight hallway, perfectly symmetrical in its architecture and festooned with dripping greenery, until they came upon a dark, heavy door, fortified and guarded by black-clad Hesperian Guardsmen. Hesper whispered in the ear of one, beckoning for him to lean down to her, and then the guards stepped to the side, revealing the full berth of this most impressive doorway. “Turn away,” Hesper instructed Makaria.
The woman did as she was told, even closing her eyes and bowing her head.
When Makaria turned around again at the Empress’ command, the door had been opened, revealing a modest, yet elegant sitting room– once again, Hesper gestured for Makaria to follow, and entered. The lighting was dim, a moody yet inviting ambience, and the walls bore frescoes painted in broad strokes and muted colors. The door slid shut behind them, and then they were entirely alone.
She took a seat upon one of the velvet couches, and invited Makaria to do the same with a simple hand motion. “Now that we are well and truly alone,” Hesper began, leaning back and crossing her legs, crimson gown shimmering, “as this room is not only designed to be completely impenetrable by all means as well as warded beyond belief, and will shield us from those who might desire to pry… I want you to tell me the truth.” Makaria sighed in relief, all the tension caught in her delicate shoulders unspooling at once. She almost dropped into the offered couch, a much clearer mark of her mindset than anything else could be.
“In truth, my Empress, I almost don’t know what to think,” Makaria said at once, feeling childishly petulant. “It was so strange! Death has changed Kain dramatically, no matter what he thinks. His attempts to turn us were elaborate and grandiose, almost desperately so. I finally resorted to yelling at him before he cleared his head enough to speak plainly.”
She paused, chin on a pillow, staring into the middle distance as she ordered her thoughts. “I believe that he believes his own goals. That he will be some savior, that will protect instead of ruin.”
Makaria looked at Hesper with wide eyes. “But the way he was, the things he did… How can I trust that? Can you trust that? I do not know if there is a greater evil using him as an unwitting puppet, poisoning him from the inside out. Or if this is an element of his heritage, bringing him back from death at terrible cost.”
“As for the others… have they betrayed you in truth? I cannot be sure. They believe in Kain, and believe in helping a beloved friend and comrade in a dark time. So many of us were warped and changed by Typhojem’s coming. But I would keep track of their movements, see what is being done and the larger ripples of it. If you can speak to this Nepthys in private, or capture your own agent, it could help verify Kain’s story.”
Makaria’s shoulders slumped, all of her gone bird-boned in a moment. The war had not been kind to anyone, but some had come through that crucible hardened. Makaria had come out in glass.
“Is it wrong? To hope that you are aligned in this? It seems like there might be a chance to pull him back from some great ledge. I do not wish for a war in our midst.”
Hesper put her hand to her mouth, thoughtfully chewing on the nail of her ring finger. "I don't trust him. And you'd be right not to trust him, either. Something quite sinister is at play, here, and Kain is the catalyst." She used her hand to tuck her hair behind an ear. Her eyes locked onto Makaria. "I fear the blood in his veins, and that of his son. He is no great savior."
The Dark Lady nestled further into the couch. “I fear it too. I worry that others are too blinded by the past to see the present.”
"I feel little control over the state of my Empire these days. I must get it in hand and strengthen my bond with my remaining loyalists. Some will stay blind to the truth of Kain's treacherousness, I'm sure, but I can't let my confidence falter. I've been complacent, Makaria, and the time has come to take action."
Makaria nodded, her delicate face resolved. “There is a saying on my home planet, Majesty, that you might think on. ‘Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.’ This was said by one of our great philosophers, and I think it might help us now.”
Tilting her head, Hesper thoughtfully smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh. Her eyes never left Makaria’s face. “Do I have your loyalty, Lady Makaria?” Hesper’s gaze took on a new intensity, her eyes like two bright stones beneath a river of mysticism. It was mesmerizing.
“Always,” Makaria said, her voice so soft and so trusting. Kain had shaped her, it could not be denied, but Hesper had been her catalyst, her beacon. Nothing could rise above that.