[VOICE] Exile - Restricted Run-On
First Orbit of System
Landing Zone Aurek
Vitiate stood stoically. His men shuffled the exiles from the great ship’s mass and herded them into brooding groups. Alone, apart from his disciples, the broken Sith Lord Okemi was held in chains of cortosis and phrik, pikes at his throat. Once the entire vessel was emptied the gathered looked up to the executor of Lord Marka Ragnos’s vengeance and will.
His coal-black eyes gazed down on the worms, beings of so little worth to be counted among the true Sith. Pureblood though many may have been, their allegiance to Okemi was their doom and his great boon. With one of the Dark Council removed from Sith Space for all time Vitiate would return more powerful, more prestigious, and in much better a position to challenge Ludo Kreesh.
It was all but a game. In this game you won or died. Okemi was exiled, unlikely to survive upon this virgin world. It was but a death sentence delayed for as long as the Lord could resist it. His drawn out suffering would serve as a warning to all who opposed Ragnos, and Vitiate.
Gently clearing his throat the human enhanced the clarity of his voice with the Force, “You are hereby delivered upon this world to live out the remainder of your natural life. You are exiled from the Empire, Naur’Sith. You are stripped of all titles, all rights, and all duties. Darkness be with you all.”
Spinning on his heal the Sith Lord returned to the interior of the vessel. It was shortly buttoned down and begun whirring with the activity associated with lift off. Loosed of his bonds, Okemi slowly back-peddled, watching as the great warship left the ground and rocketed skyward.
Looking about him he saw nothing but untouched earth. This world was his island; marooned here for all eternity with his closest followers, few supplies, and nothing else. He would not die however, he refused to bow to Vitiate’s vile scheme. He would adapt. He would overcome. His would become a new Sith Empire, something that would withstand the test of time and trials of suffering. He would become Dark Lord of the Sith one way or another and when the time was right his children and descendants, and those of his followers, would return from their deportee with a vengeance and would claim their inheritance.
As Yet-Unnamed Planet
First Orbit of System
Landing Zone Aurek
Lord Okemi watched the nascent skies with piercing eyes as the vessels of his nemesis departed. “I call this place....” his voice quieted as he felt within the Dark Side of the Force. “Antei. What is done here will live forever. I have foreseen it.” The Sith Lord turned quickly on his heel, thoughts of domination foremost in his mind. "Let Us make the acquaintance of the native population. The Theocracy of Darkness will begin with them.” The red skinned Sith wasted no time and immediately began giving direction to his minions. The conquest and subjugation must begin at once.
Around him a grim-faced population of loyal servants and followers stood. Many bore scars from recent conflicts. This population of Force users had been beaten by those loyal to Marka Ragnos and they had been thereby exiled. Marooned was a better word perhaps. Interestingly, they had been left alive. They began to take stock of their meager supplies and weaponry.
Ironically although they had been left with no star transports, they had been left with some weaponry and technology. There was a strange code of honor among the Sith for a formidable foe.
“One has to wonder at that,” murmured a young man cowled in a simple black robe to himself quietly. Anthurak Jadoku stood far back in the group that surrounded the Sith Lord. “Why? I can only assume it was to sow us like seeds,” he wondered. “That is what Father and Mother would have said.” His thoughts cast backwards to the form and figure of his mother and father. Hafalia Chunasca Seprosin was his mother and Matih Jadoku his father. One an Ombi Princess twisted by the Sith into an Ekind, and the other a Massassi warrior twisted by the Dark Side. Theirs had been a story of star-crossed lovers with a penchant for evil.
Matih and Hafalia had fought with Okemi against the others. They had paid the ultimate price. They died in the brutal conflict between contesting Sith. The Sword that Hafalia had wielded was lost, and so were her tales of her former life in the Orian System. The young Adept of a mere twenty four revolutions considered his fate here. His mother, a former slave had rebelled first against Urias Orian, and later against the Sith. His father had rebelled against the higher caste of the Kissai. And Lord Okemi himself had dared to defy the status quo. The hand of the Dark Side could be seen in these events although the future was uncertain.
First Orbit of System
Nearby the Landing Zone Aurek
Velathir slowly followed the group led by Okemi, sunk in his thoughts. The situation of Okemi’s disciples was indeed bad, but much better than he could have ever hoped to be. They were banished to that remote, isolated planet…but alive. They were indeed lucky.
Velathir looked at Okemi. He had tried to convince the leader of the uprising to launch the assault later, under more favourable conditions, but he had failed. Velathir, one of pure-blooded Kissai, was a firm follower of Okemi, who fought to overthrow the rule of the half-breeds, but was far more careful. The Kissay displayed great courage during the fights, especially as for a priest, but he was also very prudent.
Due to that fact, Velathir blamed Okemi for their banishment as he saw it to be a wasted opportunity to become the leaders of the Sith Empire. ‘Maybe patient planning and careful moves would make us victorious,’ thought Velathir. ‘However, Okemi failed us due to his impatience. He will need pay for this…in a more suitable time. Now, we need him and his powers to establish our rule on this planet…’
Words of Lord Okemi, who gave the name to the planet – Antei – brought Velathir back to the reality. By the order of their leader, they were looking for the nearest village, where they could start introducing the Theocracy of Darkness, the rule of the Sith, on that backwater planet. The Kissai smiled with a grim satisfaction, as he hoped to play a significant role in the new order brought to the native population of Antei.
After a short consideration, Velathir had to admit that their future was far brighter than he had thought before. With new vigour in his heart and mind, he marched alongside other of the Okemi’s followers, ready to use his abilities in the service of Lord Okemi and to indoctrinate the natives to obey the will of their new ruler. Indeed, the Kissai mastered countless ways of indoctrination…Now, his knowledge and skills in that matter were to be in use again…in the service of Lord Okemi…and to himself.
Brigakh slunk forward, his weary frame draped in dark robes that left him virtually indistinguishable from his fellow disciples. Aging, the Kissai lacked the vitality that had driven him to pursue his dark studies so many years previously, honing the skills that would make him so vital to the rising Lord Okemi. His ascent now stalled, but not yet grounded indefinitely, Okemi would likely rely on Brigakh in different ways.
Antei, a word that had not yet become synonymous with the landscape that the disciples now called home, would have to become their salvation. Around him, the Kissai heard whispers, low voices talking of the great boon that their weapons and technology would be, and about how serious the error had been in leaving them thusly equipped on the new planet. Their climb back to the top of the Sith Empire would be meteoric, if the rumors were to be believed!
The weapons would do them little good. Any creature or species encountered here could be swiftly dealt with through the Dark Side, and the weapons in their hands would result in the deaths of far more allies than enemies. They lacked the truly critical components to getting off-planet and the obstacles that they would soon face on this planet would prove far more challenging than any of the cautiously optimistic disciples presumed.
Brigakh trudged forward, morose and somewhat sentimental. He longed for the days of Marka Ragnos, the days he spent studying the Force, and he wistfully dreamed of the unification of a Sith Empire that was sure to crumble. Those days were no longer within reach, and the Kissai was forced to face his new reality. With only a handful of years left to live, the disciple was resigned to following Okemi’s orders and carving out a new existence on this strange world.
“A village,” Okemi’s voice carried over the mass of people, his statement’s simplicity giving it the strength needed to bring the exiles to a halt. Despite the humiliating and debilitating punishments the Sith Lord had endured, his voice remaining remarkably strong. It still bore Okemi’s noted confidence.
Brigakh knew that whatever inhabited the village on the edge of the grasslands through which they now trekked was aware of their presence. Their unceremonious drop-off had been conspicuous, to put it gently, and it was possible that interstellar technology had never graced the planet’s serene greenery. The impending meeting between the Sith and the natives would be and interesting study, and Brigakh’s scholarly habits precluded him from the cold indifference that most of his fellows felt as they approached the village.
And thus begins the theocracy.
Antei, Sal mused silently. A very curious name. As the others began the trek to the local village she fell into step just at the end of the group, her eyes flashing over each member of the group in turn. All of them she had known, fought with in the battle prior to their banishment, and now she had the possibility of dying with them. How long before they all went mad and turned on each other? How long before--in the best case scenario--Lord Okemi actually completed his plan for domination once more?
But didn't they all? Loyal to him his disciples might be, but not a one would blindly put their full trust in a event that may or may not happen.
The Echani shook back her metallic silver hair and a hint of a smile curved across her lips at the idea. Though she had no end of faith in his will to succeed, she had her doubts as to the actual occurrence. Out of habit her left hand dropped to the hilt of the weapon dangling from her hip as they neared the village. Her fingers ached to wrap about her weapon and put it to good use but she ignored that impulse. Now was not the time, but she sensed that time would indeed be soon.
Briefly she reached out towards her fellows and her presence flashed across them, just the barest touch, careful not to intrude too deeply. Curious though she was, the chaos of another's mind was undesirable even in the best conditions. Her mind brushed across that of the male parallel to her and she caught the sense of a thought from Brigakh.
'And thus begins the theocracy,' his voice whispered without words.
Whether he meant for her to hear or if she had unknowing eavesdropped she didn't know, but she didn't wait to find out. Sal eased her presence within her once more and chuckled silently, her eye betraying the amusement her face did not show. So, then, she wasn't the only one with an edge of sarcasm directed at their situation.
Indeed, so it does begin. Here we are and so shall we be, though how and why is a mystery, she thought. The Echani glimpsed the edge of the village and her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her weapon, though she didn't draw it. A few members of the group flared excitement through the Force and she felt her own rise in response.
The only question now is how many of us will live to see the end.
The group of exiles moved swiftly towards a village, where the natives were living at. The place itself was located in a beautiful valley. Thousands of colourful flowers covered vast grassland. Fruit trees nearby the village were just blossoming. Air was filled with lovely smell. However, none of the Okemi's followers paid attention to any of these things. They had only one thing in their minds - to conquer the village and to instill new beliefs to the villagers.
The exiled Sith were very close to the town, when a group of locals came out from the village to welcome the strangers. The leader of the villagers started speaking, but the language, he used, was not familiar to any of the Okemi’s followers. Lord Okemi looked at Velathir and nodded. The Kissai immediately carried out the tacit order, as he was known of his superb abilities to enhance the understanding of unknown languages with the use of the Force. Less then thirty seconds later, Velathir spoke to the elder of the village.
“Kneel before Okemi, your god and supreme ruler!”
The Sith observed the reactions of the natives carefully, ready to carry out any necessary actions. Surprisingly, the locals turned out to be confused. The strangers were not similar to any other beings on the planet that they were aware of. They had to come from the stars, but the way they did it was far beyond the understanding abilities of the natives. What is more, these alien beings knew their language!
However, when the first shock came to an end, the natives started thinking logically. They did not know what the gods looked like, as they were forbidden to make any pictures or sculptures of the gods, but none of their gods was known as ‘Okemi’. Strong faith instilled through the generations into the subconciousness of the locals took over their minds, filling them with unrestrained anger and hatred. They started shouting “Blasphemy! It is a blasphemy!”
Most of the exiled Sith smiled with nasty satisfaction. Finally, they were going to have an opportunity to satisfy their hunger of blood and pain…
Sal ignored the others and slid through her peers to stand just behind Okemi, her eyes flashing with anticipation. The natives by now were yelling with barely restrained fury and she could easily sense the blood lust practically pouring off the elder members as Okemi continued to proclaim himself "the one and only god".
"The hell are we waiting for?" she purred softly. She allowed the Force to carry her words to the others as she spoke and she could sense the other's eagerness. "Let's go start a war." Her hand dropped to the pommel of her weapon, her fingers itching to wrap around the hilt and her own sadistic nature snarling to be set free. She knew that Okemi was amused by her desire to fight, just as he was by the way the rest of her comrades were vibrating in their skins. All except Brigakh, she amended. He stood on the edge of the crowd of Followers, his posture reflecting his calm as the eye of the storm.
All thoughts of anything except bloodshed were erased from her mind when she heard Okemi's murmured reply. "Kill the one in the middle." Her eyes flashed to his face as a sneer curled over her lips. "Just the one, Sal," he whispered warningly.
She drew her weapon and the blade sung forth as she summoned the Force about her like a cloak, her muscles coiling as energy lashed through her limbs. With a burst of speed she launched herself forward and into the crowd, landing on her intended victim as lithely as any feline predator. Her lips peeled back in a snarl of victory as she beheld the fear in the man's eyes; it fueled her like no other substance in the world. In seconds her target was dead, and it was her pleasure to see the light in his eyes flicker out like a flame in the wind. No sooner had the rest realized he was dead than she was back at Okemi's side, her sword once again hanging at her hip.
"Anyone else wish to challenge Okemi, the Lord and God of this world?"
And the silence reigned.