Fire and Ashes

[Darth Viscera]

OOC: This RP takes place 30 IC years in the future, and is entirely ficticious with regards to anything occuring in the present. It is merely for fun. Think of it as a possible alternate future. Good luck :-)


The snow fell quickly now on Coruscant, and Darth Viscera was somewhat uncertain as to what to make of it. It had not snowed anywhere on the planet save the Manarai mountains since before the time of Zim the Despot.

By the Heart of Hicchoru, yet another bad omen, he thought, not certain how else to interpretate this.

An off-yellow airbus shot past the Imperial Palace a bit too close for comfort, its stabilizer gyros somehow having malfunctioned. It careened seemingly for eternity, before crashing finally into the side of a lumbering TriOptimum building in the heart of the Sumor Rayial Memorial District. It was not a coincidence that the catastrophe had occured when his mood was most foul.

He had performed this same melancholy routine for the last three decades, since the height of the strategic stalemate known as the Great Galactic War, when he had lost contact with the Emperor completely, the visions which guided him day by day as finished as the peace which had once reined. Thus his abandonment had been made complete. And so, every day he would repeat his routine, and another vessel would be plucked from the skies.

He sensed a presence behind him, and instinctively reached for the hilt of his lightsaber, but it was only the droid, the damned droid. It shuffled its feet across the stone floors of the Emperor's Study, its photoreceptors brightening as it found itself in the dim sky of the palace no fly zone.

"Your Excellency, the Senate requests your presence in the Audience Chamber," it declared in its softly masculine voice. After the Great War, the New Republic had been left in shambles, several of its charter member planets-not to mention hundreds of thousands of other planets-having seceded in fear, watching with growing dread as the resources which they produced were shipped off to some distant planet, while they themselves were plundered by their own corrupt local governments, or better perhaps, occupied by a Dark Coalition force. Thus the bereaucratic system had been almost literally vaporized from the Republic, ironically at the same time as a Coalition Senate was being convened in the Imperial Palace.

"I have not the patience to deal with the Senate today, TeeZee-Nineteen," the Emperor replied. He found the Senate quite abhorrent, and could not tolerate the deep divisions which allowed the partisan system to exist. The Sith fire-eaters arguing ceaselessly with the Purist-Conservative humans, the Cizerack watching from afar, silently manipulating.

The Galactic Empire had grown much since the height of the Great War, and now included the majority of the Sith territory, as well as some which belonged indirectly to the Dark Jedi. That is not to say the Empire had conquered these regions, but that they were forced to join hands with the Empire during the war for mutual military benefit, which had been one of the reasons for the founding of the Senate.

Realizing what he must do, despite his wishes, he followed the olive drab-colored droid downstairs to the audience chamber.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth squeezed his fingers a bit more, Karrde's hands sliding up to keep himself from choking. Nothing the man did helped to ease his suffering, the Dark Jedi merely smiled before releasing the fool to the floor.

"Your failure disappoints me, Talon."

Jeseth's eyes darted, hawk like, and settled on Karrde's back. He considered tearing out the fool's spleen, except he realized that Karrde would be useless to him dead. He didn't have patience for failure. A Jedi Master should not be made to wait under any circumstances, and especially not when patience was a rare commodity in the galaxy.

"I hope you understand that we will be requiring all of the Vjun system to remain free of mining and exploration. No one can uncover what we've constructed there. Do I make myself clear?"

[Talon Kardde]

He coughed as he began regaining his composure, nodding faintly. Being harassed by The Black Hand was the least favorite part of his day, but he knew it was a visit long overdue. Usually another of the Dark Cult greeted him, but today Jeseth had chosen to come personally. He was a little less worried when the others came, but Jeseth chilled him to the core. The man man seemed to have little reservations about taking lives, or anything else he wanted, for that matter. When he really stopped and gave it some thought, he could see some eerie similarities between Jeseth and Thrawn... and if it wasn't The Empire riding him to get ships out before the projected deadline, then it was the Senate badgering him about restricted mining sectors and detailed profit outlines. If they already knew he was running a monopoly, why did they even bother him about it further?

All in all, age and fate had been less than kind to him... but it was probably only half of what would be in store for him. He knew that lady luck had been clinging to his arm for far too long... He could only hope that eventually she'd blow him another kiss. Maybe then he'd be able to leave all this behind. The money had been nice, but then the Dark Jedi hadn't been so involved. At first, it had just been mutual business. How in the world did he let it get so out of hand? He should have seen it coming, but he was once again far too formal in his dealings. Jeseth had not been quite as forgiving.

[Zorin Hexes]

Grand Admiral Zorin Hexes grinned as he watched Yaran drop the last of her clothing for him. After nearly thirty years serving together onboard the same ships, the inevitable had happened: Zorin Hexes got married. He wasn't young at all my any means, and as she tossed herself on top of him and began to tear off his white uniform without consideration, he realized that 67 was a strange age to be making love in. He felt weak, insecure, and almost embarrassed about himself and his performance, but Yaran had always made him feel like he was still in the prime of his life. He couldn't help but wonder sometimes if a 38 year old woman wouldn't eventually tire of having an old war-hawk by her side, but as she pushed him off the bed and tossed away the last of his inform, his answer came all of it's own accord.

Several hours later they were laying on the floor by his bed, Yaran leaning against his chest as both of them listened to the silence of space passing them by on board the Super Star Destroyer, Executor III. Maybe 67 wasn't such an old -

Buzzzzz.....Buzzzzz.....

Zorin sighed and looked up at the ceiling of his quarters, realizing that Yaran was now asleep. He was being called down for a briefing before the Senate, and he couldn't be late today... He hated to do it, but he'd have to wake her and get her to head back up to her room.

[Jerred Rez]

Jerred couldn't do much but turn his head away from the scene which was transpiring in Karrde's office. His first instinct had been to reach for his blaster, but he knew he wasn't supposed to interfere in business transactions... even if they did get messy. He had spent fifteen years working at TriOptimum and still had trouble following protocol. It was a wonder they ever appointed him to be head of security and defense... All he could was look away and lean back against the side of the side of the polymer-glass door.

[Khendon S]

The dark room was designed to house a prince or maybe a king, with its spaciousness and ancient, yet still vividly colored, carpets and wooden furniture. The only window in the large space was to the right of the king size bed, a tall window, framed by oak that had seen its share of time and had tinted glass, to block the dreadful sun from the room’s occupant’s slumbering eyes. Khendon turned in his sleep, his silk and fur blankets tumbling down next to the bed and forming into a pile of cloth.

Khendon hadn’t been getting much sleep for the past eleven years, ever since his one true love died… and then he lost the Guild to the wars… and his friend Mark Fenix. Khendon awoke, brining his body in an erect position, cold sweat dribbling down his face, like a miniature waterfall. The meek figure shook his head, disapproving of the dreams. A cross fell from the elderly warrior’s sleepwear along with a dog tag, both lined with gold. As Khendon ran his hand through his hair the dreams came back to him.

He was in a field, but the grain was on fire. Khendon ran towards a sound, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Mark! Mark, where are you! Please, Mark! Tell me where you are!” As Khendon ran through the fire, his skin bubbled and curdled, blisters popping. “Mark! Whe…” then he would see him, Mark, engulfed by flame, falling to the ground in slow motion… dead before he knew what had hit him. That’s usually when Khendon would wake up, but this time he had awaken only after the great fireballs coming down from the sky of the planet killed his son. He then saw the ships, large asteroid like ships, bombing the planet, destroying the billions of people on it.

Khendon shook his head hard, a little blood dribbling out of his nose. He was fifty-two, and showing the signs of combat, old wounds opening up all of the time. Khendon looked at his right hand, tormenting by arthritic and shaking. He got up, taking a deep breath and wiping a tear from his eye, he went over to the closet, taking out a sleek black uniform that had been taken in the day before.

Khendon smiled, his face showing the signs of age, a white streak in his hair. Khendon took a pill, smiling as the pain from his hands miraculously disappeared. He put on the suit, making sure everything was in perfect order. “I-eight-twelve, please put all of today’s meetings on hold, I would like to walk in the park for an hour or two,” Khendon said wearily, a note of sadness in his voice.

“I am sorry, Sir. The senate is being convened, you must attend or forfeit your rank.” Khendon’s face grimaced having to go to the dullness of the senate, it was better suited for youth then the elderly like himself.

“Fine, fine… we better get on our way then, I-eight-twelve.” Said Khendon, capitulating without any protest. The droid smiled, its false flesh curving. Khendon shook his head and commanded the door to open, walking onward, the android in lead.

[Jeseth Cloak]

Jeseth held a hand up to the security officer, shaking his head. He could sense what the man was thinking easily. He hadn't even needed to search his thoughts.

"Keep your dogs on their leash, Karrde."

The TriOptimum president narrowed his eyes as he laid back in his chair, finally managing to get up off the ground. There was a time when Jeseth had trouble matching wits with the man, but that was a long time ago. Now the Force ensured that Jeseth would remain in the prime of his life, while Karrde would not. Glancing down at his pocket watch, the Dark Jedi brushed himself off.

"I have to be going, old friend. Please make sure you properly brief the Senate on your activities."

In other words: lie.

Jeseth smiled at him one more time before stepping forward through the glass doors which slid open. He gave a appraising glance to Jerred and smirked, then turned down the hall, on his way to meet with Taja.

[Fae DuFrene]

Fae stood on the balcony at Zaetre Ree, the one adjacent to her suite that overlooked her garden, the one she was so proud of. As she breathed in the Zaetrian air, tears came to her eyes. On a normal day, she would smell the soft scent of Roses and Minta Trees. Maybe a Zui Bush or two, but today the air smelled harder. The horrible smell of machine exhaust and other mechanical filth skirted he air around her nose. Her wings were a pale shade of blue, almost translucent, as opposed to the typical vibrant dark blue with silver flecks. With a great sigh, she knew that her life here had ended. The war had shattered her dreams. She considered moving into the Imperial Palace on Coursencant. Her friends there had invited her to come live there a time or two. She had declined, prefering to live on Zaetre Ree and commute there every day via teleporting. She was extremely proud of her job as High Chancellor in the New Republic Senate. She had become a senator for Zaetre Ree, and later Cosa Nostra, after graduating top of her class in the first class from the Diplomatic Corps. Fae turned and packed her belongings into a few boxes as she could. she new the next strike by the enemy would probably take out her palace. The large emperor bed would have to stay. A pity really, it had been the same one she had slept in as a child on Utopia. Fae teleported the heavier of her boxes out to the landing pad by her personal carrier, the rest she picked up. Fae loaded a large container with her belongings. She gazed at the palace one more time before disappearing into the shell of a carrier. her last thought before she teleported herself and her belongings to Corsencant was:
*what now?*

[Taja Loraan]

Hate. Such a wonderful word, that - the sum of everything. A latent demon implanted within the hearts of each and every individual, no matter how pure in soul. For none can truly be such, as no state of absolute purity exists. Only charred souls, tainted forever by the plague of ignorance. Those who choose to turn their heads to reality, to all that is left in this existence: that one emotion, and all that has spawned from this hatred. Those who have accepted the gift of the blind.

Though one could not, however, be blamed for refusing to see. What did realization result in other than a perpetual void within the empty vessel carrying this burden, the burden of what we call "truth"? It failed to eliminate the sense of nothingness. Nor did it succeed in answering why this truth is, and more importantly, it failed to answer her cries. Her cries of diminishing hope: why are we?

Her visage obscured by natural near-white locks of hair, Taja exhaled, her breath condensing in the cold wind that howled through the open window, twisting and melding into taunting dark shadows. Forever reminding of their freedom ... freedom, something she had once craved. Taja shivered ostensibly, though not for body feel - the air was still. Her thoughts scattered and her mind drifted to another plane of existence, one where all she could feel was this cold.

So she had finally attained this "freedom", but for what? Taja had been expectant of naught, as there had never in the past appeared any possibilities of this. And now her voices were silent ... maybe she had found herself, recovered a lost identity. A blank identity.

Change was an inevitable facet of life, though one's very essence was never altered. However, she was not as dejected and impassive as had once been the case, and even if so, such emotions were no longer forcefully harbored within her. Taja could feel and had come to view life for all its joys, as hypocritical of her philosophies as it seemed, and was blessed enough to experience these for thirty years since the War. Thirty years ... rather a curse, one of its sporadic fortunes having been to encounter those she had. Not always working in her favor, but a somewhat rare wonder nonetheless. Taja had not been rendered hopeless just yet.

The War ... Taja wasn't sure what to make of it. Nothing remained to exist, though perhaps to inherit a legacy. She did not possess a very strong voice in such matters, but her curiosity was not entirely feigned. Quite the contrary, it was always in her interest to discover new changes in progress and how the general populace adapted to whatever was hurled at them. Amusing, if nothing else.

Taja clasped her hands together and uttered a quiet sigh, leaning further out the window. Jeseth ...

[Jeseth Cloak]

He walked into the circular room at the end of the hall. This was the most lavish and largest TriOptimum building in all of the galaxy. Karrde certainly wasted no time in making sure it would safely remain his base of operations. He glanced around, looking for Taja with a brief feeling of curiosity, and then noticed her gazing outside of a window. He couldn't help but to smile just slightly, the corner of his lips curling up in a smile that was now (uncommonly) born of a feeling other than sadistic joy.

"Darling?"

She seemed to be vexed in thought, not seemingly realizing that he had called out to her, and then leaned further out the window. He remembered the time after Delirion's death. He had been different then... more in control, but the past was a shroud of mystery which became more and more lost to him as the days went on. He was fortunate to have found someone like her. Jeseth was near incapable of taking care of himself by principle: He was the eternal nihilist, searching out his own destruction at every turn. It was a wonder he had survived as long as he had - long enough to wipe out the foundations of what had once been the Greater Jedi Order. The Jedi now existed sparsely, scattered throughout the galaxy in numbers so insignificant they could never hope to contend with the spread of hatred and evil which had seeded the universe. That is why the Sith so rarely hid their presence.

Just like the days of the Jedi Council... Except now it is the followers of the light who must hide their true nature - How the tables have turned.

[Taja Loraan]

Taja looked up upon hearing his voice, both soothing and melodious in all its malevolence. She wasn't too sure in exactly what ways, but she felt very grateful to Jeseth ... he was perhaps all she had left to call hope. Hope, the one thing that remained for her to desperately try and maintain. All was not lost ... yet.

Stepping forward, Taja bowed briskly before him, "Greetings, sir."

Old habits died hard, and now it was more a signature welcome. Raising her head, her lips curved slightly into a smile.

"How did it go?"

[Jeseth Cloak]

Her usual manner always made him smile... but every smile came with it's own amount of remorse for his own life. What use did it do him now..? He really didn't know, but it was all too easy to forget when he looked at her. His life, his heart, none of it really mattered anymore... except maybe to her. Sometimes he wondered just how much it did matter, but he was grateful that Taja had never left his side, despite who he truly was... It had to mean she did care a great deal.

"Well... as usual. Mr.Karrde was eager to talk about rewording his briefing for the Senate."

He offered her his arm and gave a glance to the green goggled security agent who eyed him, assuring himself that the man was staying in his proper place. Jeseth smirked at him and walked towards the window where Taja had been standing, then looked down to see an endless drop towards the lower level. He smiled a little and leaned against the edge, then caught a reflection of himself in the glass panel beside his head. He still looked... young. His hair was gray... and his pupils had faded away steadily, but other than that he didn't look all that much different than he had all those years ago.

"How do you put up with me, Taja?"

He shook his head and grinned.

"Never mind. Don't bother answering that... I shouldn't be so unfair to you."

He tugged on her arm a little bit, starting an attempt at moving away from the window and towards the lift to the landing pad. He had totally forgotten they were on schedule... and he had someone he wanted to introduce her to.

[Zorin Hexes]

The Grand Admiral arrived at his Senate seat, glancing down at his Crono-dial and exhaling a sigh of relief. He wasn't late at all... Perhaps he might even have enough time to get his act together. As he sat, he could see that many of the others were now watching him with shifty eyes. You'd think that after 30 years of loyal service to the Empire, there would be a bit more trust in his abilities from the bureaucrats - but then again, what did they know about war?