The Rebel Faction

Chambers of the Dark Lord

"It is funny," came another voice, a rasping, tired sound that nonetheless filled the chamber, "What the downfall of the Jedi brings. Another bunch of pretenders to the throne of galactic protector, and a -- a Jedi among them."

"Thank you, Jedi, for opening the door for me -- immensely courteous," Xireon continued, shambling in the door. His blue, scaled skin flickered slightly in the light of the room, as he stepped over the scattered remnants of the double doors. "Though I do expect that the Dark Lord will be most displeased with his doors."

Xireon's form was stooped and sickly, matching his inhuman appearance and impossibly thin body. His white, pupil-less eyes made it impossible to determine where he was looking. Perhaps he was looking everywhere. Maybe nowhere.

"Really," he said, gesturing at the crumpled bodies of the Massassi warriors, bleeding from their ears. "How un-Jedi like -- Slavatio, isn't it? Yes, I have all of my father's memories, and the former Dark Lord of the Sith spoke of you, at least once. I believe you and my father have met -- possibly during that catastrophic failure known as the Sith assault on Naboo."

Slavatio and Neradia still stared at Xireon throughout this monologue, and though the freakish Sith's mouth was covered by the collar of his tattered clothing, the very top of a smirk showed over the cloth. "As to the bit about our visitor not being able to kill you, I beg to differ, Neradia," he continued. "I think he is quite able to kill you. And, evidently, he wouldn't think twice about it -- strange, isn't it, Last of the Jedi Shadows, how you begin to resemble what you surround yourself with?"

A cold laugh. "Come then, let us fight with odds that are -- ever so slightly -- more even."

Aboard his small private ship the dark lord of the sith knew times were precarious and even now Khar Shian and Khar Delba were under assault. Soon the jedi would be suprised and in pain, dying on this planet they so boldly invaded. Looking back to the three clones of Malice Draclau he spoke.

Your master has assigned you to me. We shall deal a devastating blow to this so called alliance. Meditate and prepare for soon we will be ready.

Closing his eyes he sent a private message through the force to a true warrior, man who had served his father for millenia, a man who could deal death on a immense scale.

Lord Kressh, this is Sedriss. I have begun my preparations but I need you to assume defense of Khar Delba. The invasion must end and I need you to assist the son of your master.

Reaching into his belt, Xireon drew forth a lightsaber, igniting its red blade and bringing it shimmering forth. "Two lightsabers, Slavatio," he said, and chuckled a little, "Just like my father."

With neither pomp nor ceremony, Xireon swept forward, slashing downwards with the lightsaber at the Jedi he faced. The blade moved with such speed that it did not appear to be a blade at all, but a swath of blood-red cloth sewn onto the air.

A voice through the Force reached Meschi and was returned.

I shall do what I can, but only at the behest of the Triumvirate.

The communications channel beeped and was opened. The message was recieved and immediately replied to.

"I would like to see you attempt to punish me, you little worm."