The Rebel Faction

Xireon shifted slightly as the call of Sedriss came. With it, billowed forth the identity of the man from whom it originated; most important, of all this, came the affirmation of his identity. The son of Sadow, heir to the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith.

Heir to the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith who had seen personally to the fall of the Sith Empire, Xireon reminded himself. Sedriss was clearly to be treated with caution. Mind your thoughts, Sith... came Divus Kren's words. He is not to be trivialized in such a way...

"And why not?" Xireon replied to the empty room. "You know my thoughts, spirit, you know the many who have laid claim to this title and the few who have done it any justice. Remember not only the failings of those men to unite the Sith Empire, remember the success of this man's ancestor in destroying it."

The spirit seemed to contemplate these words for a moment. Then watch your thoughts nonetheless, even if you must treat this one with caution... but remember his power to unite as well as destroy...

Xireon begrudgingly nodded his assent. He could sense Sedriss' approach, sense him coming closer and closer, tearing through the catacombs. Finally, he emerged into the chamber in which the blue-skinned Sith sat. Xireon's almost scaled skin glistened in the pale light of the room, as did his claws. His clothing was nothing more than the tattered rags that hung loosely about him, and this, combined with his freakishly thin form, gave him the appearance of a living corpse.

"Sedriss Sadow," Xireon greeted the man.

"I know what the Dark Circle's aims are," Xireon snarled. "I helped found the group, after the Battle of Ruusan. And I reside on this planet because it is, and has always been, my home."

The Sith got to his feet, waving his hand at the ceiling of the chamber. "Can you feel them, Sedriss Sadow, heir to the throne of the Sith? Can you hear them? They swirl all around you, your ancestors, whispering and muttering the secrets of the future and past in your ear if only you are astute enough to listen." He began to pace about the room.

"This planet is the home to the spirit of even the very Naga Sadow of which you speak. Do you know what they say, Sedriss?" Xireon asked, turning and shooting a pupil-less glare at the man. "They speak in riddles and dead tongues, and they speak of you, Sadow. You, the child of prophecy, heir to the throne of Dark Lord of the Sith."

Xireon shook his head and glared yet again at Sedriss. His wild eyes gave him the appearance of being quite mad, yet those who dug beneath the surface could feel a cunning mind at work underneath. "How many men will claim to be Dark Lord of the Sith beforev one of them actually is? Your father, Diete Somir; Recon Klain, and the list goes on. Which of these were truly the Dark Lord?"

The Sith spat. "None. What is that title but a measure of your deeds? It is not a quantification of your bloodline. The Dark Lord of the Sith will re-unite the empire, as you say, and until then he is no Dark Lord at all." Xireon's eyes narrowed. "Remember that, Sedriss Sadow. Truly, you are heir to the title of Dark Lord of the Sith. But there is as yet no nation of Sith to lord over, which makes you nothing more than a Sith with a pedigree.

"Remember that," Xireon said again, "which so many Dark Lords have forgotten."