NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: This RP is modern tech. The use of Star Wars terms is based on Crimson Sith RPing as a modern tech nation dominated by force wielding Sith Lords. It is pretty much closed but if you would like to participate ,TG either myself or Crimson Sith and we may be able to work you in somehow, doubt it though.)

Chancellor Franklin Eldy sits alone at a simple wooden desk in his small office. His three-piece suit is ruffled his badly combed-over gray hair is disheveled and his middle-aged face wares a stern frown as he reads a memo from General-in-Chief Reart.

Chancellor,

I have finished my evaluation of the possible military applications for “force users”. My experts concluded that there is no practical way to implement them into our armed forces. There are simply too few “force sensitives”. It is also notable that any nation possessing these “force users” is not a further military threat beyond prior evaluations.

From the desk of General Charles Reart.

P.S. This is, of course, assuming that the entire force thing is more than mere superstition, eh Franklin.

Eldy’s eyes travel from the memo to the surrounding room. Finding nothing of interest in his barren office, he swivels his chair around to look out his wall-spanning window. The landscape that stretches out before him is barely visible on the moonless night but he is able to make out the various craters and rocks that dot the otherwise barren landscape.

After several minutes the chancellor turns his chair back around and opens a drawer in his desk. He pulls out a large book with a silhouette of broken chains emblazoned on its cover, opens it to the middle and begins to read.

The next morning a tech officer is handed a letter and instructed to transmit it to the government of Crimson Sith.

Hail The Sith Lords of the Dominion of Crimson Sith,

I am very interested in your Sith philosophies. Though the generals of my nations have lost interest because of a lack in significant uses, I am still interested in a sort of cultural exchange. I believe that my nation would positively benefit from having our own force adepts available at our disposable and I am sure that you are eager to export your ideology.

Chancellor Franklin Eldy of The Dominion of Undelia

To The Chancellor Franklin Eldy of The Dominion of Undelia; Greetings and Salutations

Though it pleases me to no end that you have taken an interest in our "Sith philosophies", as you have so quantly described our way of life, I feel it is my duty to inform you that aquiring access to our Order is not as simple as you may perceive it to be. We guard the secret of our art very closely, my friend, and allow only the most trusted of our allies access to it. The Darkside of the Force is not a toy to be tampered with, something I should hope you understand.

I gather from your letter that your armed forces have already tried to apply our art to combat situations, a fact which I find deeply disturbing. I would conclude that your generals were experimenting with a pale caricature of the true force, for our art cannot be self taught. However, if you have come into contact with some rogue Sith who has actually agreed to participate in these experiments without my approval, I would ask that you hand him over to me without delay. Such activity is illegal, as all proliferation of the knowledge of our art on the continent of Qer Tu without my explicit approval is strictly prohibited, and is punishable by death. In the name of furthering the good relations between our two nations, I urge you to place this rogue Sith in our custody, should this be the truth of the matter.

I would also like to advise you that we are not apt to participate in "cultural exchange programs", or to teach outsiders our ways. As I have already mentioned, the secrets of our Order are strictly guarded, we have very strict guidelines as to the spreading of our knowledge and the taking on of new apprentices. We do not spread our art like some vile political ideology, ours is sacred knowledge, available only to those who would prove themselves worthy of it. The only thing we could do which would be remotely similar to the cultural exchange you have suggested is establishing a chapter of our Order within your territory. As one who is genuinly interested in the well being of your nation, however, I must strongly advise against this. The presence of the Fel Order within your national boundries would bring about changes which, though positive in the long run, would lead to the present collapse of your state. It is a fate I do not wish upon my allies.

Still, as a friend and ally to Undelia, I feel it would only be proper conduct to discuss this matter with you further. However, such things must be spoken of in private, behind locked doors, for to even speak of the Sith is a sacred matter which should be conducted with the utmost reverence and discretion. I would therefore invite you to my own seat of power, in the capital city of Seidherod, so that we may conduct a full interview, and discuss this matter at length. I await your input.

Darth Forge

To the Sith Lord Darth Forge,

First, allow me to apologize for my servant's perceived naivety. He is well aware that the Sith are an extremely exclusive organization. I can assure that my interest is completely practical and grounded in logical moorings that we can both appreciate. I do indeed understand that the Darkside, or the Force in general for that matter, is not a toy and I assure that my interest in it is not that of a petty scholar, unlike my Chancellor’s.

Our limited knowledge of the Darkside comes from a rather odd book that the Chancellor has spent his free time attempting to glean information from. It was recovered from the remains of a bombed out rebel base. Most of its pages are burned and much of the handwritten text is smeared, illegible and possibly in an archaic language. We believe it may have been written by a rouge Sith that has fallen in with the rebels that are a constant threat to the stability of my dominion. I have enclosed photographs of the book, so you may determine if it is indeed authentic.

I respect your reverence for the your beliefs and, if it pleases you, I shall dispatch my Chancellor to your nation on your discretion.

The Immortal Overlord of The Dominion of Undelia

Enclosed with the overlord's letter are three large high definition photographs of a book. The first is a picture of the cover with a silhouette of broken chains on it. The second is of a page of smudged, illegible writing. The third is more interesting. Like the second, the text is unreadable except for a small paragraph in the middle of the page, it reads:

Peace is a lie
There is only passion
Through passion I gain strength
Through strength I gain power
Through power I gain victory
Through victory my chains are broken
The Force shall set me free

To The Immortal Overlord of Undelia, Greetings and Salutations

It pleases me to no end that you have chosen to correspond with me directly my lord. You seem to display an educated respect for the Force, and especially its darkside, and in so doing you have earned in return the respect of the Crimson Sith. I must say however that I find your henchman to be somewhat lacking, and I'm afraid that my continued correspondence with him may have caused irepairable damage to our fragile alliance. The Chancellor is, as far as I myself can tell, a pathetic little being, and not at all worthy of acting as your representative to us. It will most probably be best for all parties concerned if we cut out the middle men, who so very often prove themselves to be incompetent, and deal directly with one another from this time forth.

I have examined the photographs you have sent me, and have determined the volume you have written of to be authentic. It is strange, for we have no records of a rogue Sith amongst our number. Still, it is possible that the Sith who brought the book amongst the rebel faction was not of Qer Tu, but a foreigner from some distant shores. By right of aquisition the book is now yours, my lord, and I would ask that you keep it with reverence. It was perhaps not the best of decisions to allow the Chancellor access to it, and I would reccommend that you remove it from his possession as soon as possible. Such things should be reserved for the most exclusive of eyes, and I would not count your henchman to be among those worthy of deciphering its passages.

Furthermore, I must say that I no longer feel that it would be prudent to meet with your Chancellor. It is our tradition amongst the Crimson Sith to communicate only with the man or woman with whom the true power lies, and in this situation, that would appear to be yourself, my lord. In this situation, the Chancellor has become completely irrelevant to our further discussions of the matter at hand, and he is no longer welcome within our nation. I would therefore extend the invitation to you my lord, and must once again insist that we correspond no more on this matter. Come to Seidherod, my ally, so that we may speak of your interest in our art face to face, as is our custom. I await your reply.

Darth Forge

Darth Forge

I agree that to meet with you face to face would probably be best. I usually give my servants great flexibility in their actions but perhaps such sensitive matters can only be understood by two people of our stations. In my limited dealings with other nations I have found that those who do not truly have an entire nation riding on their shoulders tend to act irrationally. Understand that I consider this to be of the utmost seriousness or I would not be leaving my Citadel at all.

About the Chancellor, he is a bit eccentric and can become overly enthusiastic when it comes to his interests. I assure you, though, that he is a skilled administrator but I think I shall take your advice and consider limiting his contacts with foreign lands. I shall also take the book from his possession. In fact, I think I shall bring it with me when I visit your capital of Seidherod.

One thing concerns me though. Although your nation is safer than mine, it is still not absolutely secure. I request to being a detachment of elite soldiers, to serve as my bodyguards. I understand that you are more than capable of providing protection to myself but I would feel infinitely more comfortable with my own fanatical followers.

The Immortal Overlord of The Dominion of Undelia

Reply

I have no objection to your coming with an attachment of your own bodyguard, my lord. As I write this, preparations are already being made for your arrival. I look forward to meeting with you, and do wish you a safe and uneventful journey. May the force guide you.

Darth Forge

It is mid afternoon, three days after the message from Darth Forge was received. The Imposing figure of the Overlord is sitting on a hard black throne bolted to the floor of a large private jet en route to the Dominion of the Crimson Sith. He is wearing his usual black spiked armor along with a thick red cloak that covers the upper part of his face. Around him in the cabin sit his five elite guards in less intimidating chairs. They are outfitted in Kevlar body armor that mimics their masters, their faces are serious and reverent, their M-16s loaded.

Among the guards is Colonial Richard Gralft. For any who have ever met him, he is impossible to forget. His face is molted, like the skin bubbled up. His nose is contorted upward, creating huge nostrils. His lipless mouth slowly works its way into a grin as the pilot announces, “We are approaching our destination in the city of Seidherod.”

“It’s about damn time,” he grumbles under his breath in a voice so deep and unnatural that it makes weaker men’s skin crawl.

The other elites make no visible response as the aircraft lands on the foreign runway and an airport docking mechanism extends out to the doorway of the aircraft. Inside the Overlord gracefully rises to his feet in one smooth motion. His elites immediately respond, rushing to the door, one opens it and two more immediately run up the hallway created by the docking mechanism. As the Overlord begins following after them, Gralft moves into step slightly behind him and the other two guards follow behind them in turn as the Undelians get their first glimpse of the Dominion of the Crimson Sith...

The entourage was greeted at the gate by a tall, slender woman in dark red leather attire. High, polished boots, riding gloves, slacks and a tunic, what she wore was effectively a military uniform. It was the uniform of the organisation which ruled this land, The Fel Order of The Crimson Sith, and she wore it with grace, pride, and reverence. Her dark hair was formaly styled and pinned back, and her pale blue eyes were clear and piercing. The woman radiated an aura of officious vigor, but behind the formal countenance a subtle visage of darkness and dementia could be just barely decerned.

The woman bowed low before the Lord of Undelia, and introduced herself in a melodic, hissing voice.

"Greetings and salutations, my Lord. I am Felfeather, Lord Forge's primary apprentice. I have been sent to escort you to my Lord's seat of power, which lies at the heart of our great capital city. If it pleases you my lord..."

She swept a gloved hand before her, toward the exit where two parked limousines awaited the host. The entourage was quickly and effectively moved into the waiting vehicles, and they quickly sped away, into the heart of the dark capital city.

As the caravan wound its way through the city, the entourage could get their first impression of what kind of place Seidherod was. It was by all standards a fairly large sized metropolis, with a population of almost two million citizens, which seemed to grow daily along with the city's burgening industrial core. Seidherod was indeed an ugly city, ugly, and dirty, and miserable. It was dominated by factories, refineries, powerplants, manufacturies, distileries, and all kinds of other buildings of industry. These seemed to intertwine with the brick-building slums, cheap bars, government subsidized whore houses, and pawn shops which made up the residential area of Seidherod's 21 borroughs to form some horrendous, gargantuen monstrosity; a monstrosity which seemed to sufficate all those who had been entangled in its great web. Few schools and public facilities could be spied, but what perhaps stuck out the most to a first time visitor was the utter lack of trees, or any other sort of foilage. Seidherod seemed to be covered in a thick noxious smog, the manifestation of generations of environmental neglect. This smog blocked out all natural light, shrowding the borroughs in darkness and gloom. The streets teemed with the people of this damned place. Many, those who could afford such luxury, wore gasmasks to filter oxygen through the toxic, stagnant air which surrounded them. Others were horribly deformed and mutated, suffering from ten thousand different kinds of ailment; tumors, genetic disorders, biomechanical experimentations gone awry. The rest were mostly just wragged little people, junkies and drunks who saught any kind of escape they could after completeing 13 hour days at whatever factory they happened to work at. Music blared from thousands of apartments, dark and savage music telling of pain and suffering. Seidherod was indeed the industrial heart of the nation, producing billions of dollars worth of machinary annually, but this great financial success story had a darker, tragic side which was told everyday in its proletarian borroughs.

After an hour's drive through these bleek surroundings, the caravan finally found its way to the lighter side of the city, its commercial and administrative core. Downtown Seidherod stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the city. Here the air was kept relatively clean by way of a complex filtration network, and the great blue sky could actually be perceived. Trees lined the streets, and various parks complimented the landscape. In this place there were hundreds of high rises, elegant government buildings, clubs, escort agencies, malls, and other attractions for the rich and powerful. At the center of it all stood the towering Temple of Unending Darkness, that dreaded place from which the Dark Lord exercised his power over the nation.

After another twenty minute drive through Seidherod lush core, the caravan finally slowed to a stop infront of the Temple. As the entourage disembarked from their respective vehicles, they found a small party of uniformed officials awaiting them. One of them, a woman clad in the black tunic and slacks of the Ruin Smattered Maidens, Forge's personnal bodyguard, addressed them;

"Welcome to Seidherod, honored guests. My name is Isabella Cole, and I shall be your caretaker for the day. You must all be famished and exhausted from your long journey. If you have no objections, I will gladly show you to your quarters, and have dinner prepared."

The Overlord and his men were stunned as their limousines moved rough the city. It was complete culture shock. The sound of the music coming from the windows was the most notable. The very sound of organized noise was new to their ears and it took some adjusting to. Also shocking, were the large crowds of people milling about uselessly in the streets. The elites had heard rumors that the rebels often wasted large amount of time but this was ridiculous, they thought.

“Shouldn’t these people be in their homes or at work? I mean they are only workers after all, aren’t they?” one young elite officer inquired.

“I would keep things like that to yourself, boy,” Gralft spat. “People’ll just look at you funny.”

As the limos moved into the wealthier part of the city the Undelians immediately recognized that this must be the wealthy part of town. They were relieved to see that not everything was so different from their homeland. The rich enjoying an opulent lifestyle, now this was civilization. Even the impressive Temple of Unending Darkness felt familiar. If you squinted real hard it looked like the Overlord’s Citadel.

As the group leaves their vehicles the elites immediately surround the overlord, with Gralft taking the lead. In response to Cole’s question, Gralft simply replies, “Fine, lead the way.”

The delegation was lead into the temple, a grandious building, all marble pillars, expensive tapestries, and antique furniture. They made their way to the end of the main hall, to an archaic looking elevator which took them seventeen floors up to the temple's guest suites. Each member of the delegation was provided with his own suite, and they were given several hours to unpack, bathe, and generaly settle into their new surroundings.

After the elites thoroughly inspected the rooms, the Overlord took one for himself and the elites immediately took shifts patrolling the hallways and resting. Colonial Gralft was unpacking his luggage, a parade uniform and some toiletries, when he received a knock at the door.

Opening it quickly, “What do ya want?”

The elite saluted, “Sir, the Overlord would like to speak with you. Sir.”

Without responding Gralft barreled through the door, almost knocking over the smaller man, as he made his way to the Overlord’s suite. When he reached it, he knocked on the door once and then opened the door quietly. The Overlord was standing next to a window looking out onto the glistening city below.

“Come in Colonial,” the master of Undelia calmly said in his baritone voice. Gralft slowly moved in the room, closing the door behind him, and immediately kneeled with one knee on the floor and his head down.

“Do you know why we are here, Colonial?” the Overlord asked, still observing the scene on the streets below.

“I thought it had something to do with the rebels, my Overlord,” he responded in as reverent a tone as his ghastly voice would allow.

“No, something far more important. Something a bit more… mystical. You were involved in the experiments with the Force, were you not?”

“I was. We looked at the stuff Eldy gave us and figured we couldn’t use it for nothin.”

“Correct. But we do have our own force sensitizes, right?” he turns to look at his kneeling servant.

“Odds are, gotta be some out there. These fellas are the only ones round who train’m, though. I hear they even run the place.”

“Precisely. There’s a need. They need them to run their society, and we have a supply.”

“So, we’re here to see if they wanna trade? Seems like ya shoulda sent Eldy for that… but it ain’t my place sir, forgive me.”

“Your question was justified. This is a sensitive matter, however. It is something that the Chancellor is not equipped to deal with,” the Overlord turns back to the window, “You may leave Colonial.”

“Yes, my Overlord.” He gets up and quietly leaves.

A few hours later, the elites are assembled in the hall, in their all black parade uniforms. Most have a few medals but Gralft is most notable, the front of his shirt is almost completely covered. When the Overlord emerges from his room they immediately surround him as he heads to dinner.

The entourage is ushered into the elevator by miss Cole, and shuttled up to the thirtieth floor, the personal quarters of the Lord of the Crimson Sith himself, Darth Forge. The Great Hall, which the elevator opens to, is a majestic sight indeed. All is made in the oriental style, meticulously fashioned by the finest artisans of the land. Detailed dragons coil around the red pillars which reach up to the high ceiling of the hall. The floor, the ceiling, and the walls are covered in larger than life paintings of the Malchikai's many victories and defeats, of their heros and their explorers, of the great men and women of the Dominion. Mystical glyphs are carved here and there in the walls, faintly glowing gold or silver or red, their positioning apparently intentional. A rich Persian rug stretches before the elevator and down the great hall. At the end of it is a fine, polished table, laden with all kinds of exotic foods imported to the Dominion from foreign lands. The hall is dimmly lit by red shaded lamps hanging low from the ceiling, and insence burns somewhere unoticed, filling the hall with a faint, pleasant aroma. In a far corner of the hall two women sit upon a great mess of luxurious pillows. The two women look very much alike, both pale faced and dark haired, both wearing white kimono and white slippers. One strums away at some outlandish instrument, filling the room with a pleasant melody. The other sits before a great black bong, carved into the shape of a demon, taking occassional drags from one of the pipes which hangs from it.

A man, seemingly out of nowhere, approaches the company with an elegant, refinded step. He wears a uniform similar to that worn by Felfeather at the airport, though the unique trimming on its collar and insignia on its sleeves suggest that this is the dress of a very important official. The man's face is fair and recently shaven, his short cropped black hair parted at the side and sleeked back. He would have given the impression of a common man, if it were not for his piercing, jet black eyes. This was Darth Forge, Overlord of the Crimson Sith, and supreme ruler of the Malchikai peoples.

"Greetings, honored friend." he said in a low, steady tone as he shook the hand of the Overlord of Undelia.

"Welcome to my home. Please, do sit. Let us partake of this fine feast my cooks have prepaired for us. You will not mind if miss Cole joins us?"

The party is seated and served by the Forge's catering staff, and upon vehement encouragement from Forge himself, begin to eat. Forge looks up from his plate, and smiles across the table at his ally.

"So, what do you think of my country, friend?"

The Overlord takes a minute to compose himself before answering. “Your nation is… very… different from what I am used to.” He looks toward his bewildered servants as they pick at the food provided for them. “The Twin Dragons give you permission to eat in my presence,” he reassures them. They immediately begin eating, though slowly and somewhat hesitantly.

The ruler of Undelia turns his attention back to his host. “After seeing your nation, I believe we see eye to eye on many things. Your workers, though disorganized and unsightly, are definitely kept separate from their betters. You pay no heed to those blasted environmentalists constantly telling us to cut into profits.” He laughs bitterly. “But, most importantly, you have obviously not let the evils of democracy and state imposed welfare infiltrate your society, a trait most admirable and one not achieved by many.”

“I believe the obvious,” his gaze drifts toward the two women on the pillows, “differences between our two societies can be overcome,” he turns his attention to his food, “and are not so great as to be a major impediment to relations between our two nations. However, I am curious as to something.” He looks up. “If it is of no major inconvenience, perhaps you could explain to me exactly what you Sith are."

Forge lets out a short laugh, and leans back in his chair.

"A loaded question to be sure. One which is perhaps not easily answered. As you may or may not know, this continent we share is named after the people who inhabited it, long before our own people's first settlers made their way here. What you perhaps do not know is that my people, the Malchikai, were forced into a war with these Qer'tu Tamun, as they called themselves, and once conquered, they were eventually asimmilated into our society. The Qer'tu Tamun practiced what our ancestors found to be a rather unique form of shamanism. Their magics were very real and very powerful, a fact which can be atested to by the thousands of Malchikai they managed to slaughter before finally being subdued. My people are very warlike, and even then, the Malchikai army was amongst the best trained and equiped in the world. The Qer'tu, though armed with nothing more than spears and axes, were very effective against our forces, due to their manipulation of the dark art which they practiced.

Once the Qer'tu were conquered, the Malchikai decided that rather than exterminate them, it would be better to assimilate them, and tap their dark secret art. Many resisted our initial attempts at assimilation, and were slaughtered. Others of their tribes were more than willing to join with us, seeing the opportunties that our eventual cooperation would bring. These latter vehemently supported our battle with the rebels, often participating in the combat directly, slaughtering their own brethern. It took a few long, hard years of bloody warfare in the dark jungles of this land to exterminate the rebel Qer'tu tribes, but eventually, the grizzly task set before us was complete.

Finally, after much struggle and hardship, the Malchikai were in a position to learn from their new allies. It was then that we learned that the adepts of their dark art called themselves the "Sith", and that their magics were based upon the direct manipulation of the life energy of the universe, the force, as we now call it. Within a generation of the Qer'tu subjegation, the Malchikai had their own Sith adepts, pioneering men and women who pushed the boundries of the art taught to them by the natives. With every generation that passed, our Sith became more and more powerful, pushing far beyond the primitive shamanistic force manipulation of the Qer'tu, learning to exploit the force in ever the more potent ways. Eventually, we Sith became powerful enough of our own accord to seize the reigns of power amongst the Malchikai, and shape the nation according to our own image. It was at this time that the Fel Order of The Crimson Sith was established, that we Sith evolved from a community of adpets into a shaped political force. We set up our own government, and the Republic of Malchkai'an was renamed The Dominion of The Crimson Sith.

That was almost a hundred years ago, my friend. We continue to prod the possibilities that the force presents us with, expanding our knowledge, and our control over the world around us. Such is a rather poor generalization of what we Sith are, but I'm afraid to tell the story in detail would fill up several pleasant nights."

A slight smile curls Forge's lip, and he falls into silent contemplation, awaiting his ally's reaction.

The Overlord, after listening intently, thinks for a minute before speaking. “A very interesting tale. I suppose we arrived only shortly after your order consolidated power. Very interesting and fortunate. Fortunate that you cleared these Qer’tu out. My people would not have been equipped to deal with them, had we arrived while they still existed. As you are undoubtedly aware, we were merely refugees in that dark time.”

“We were exiled from our home continent of The Banks of Utopia after our actions in a rather… unfortunate war were deemed unacceptable by our softer neighbors, but that is unimportant. What is important is the very serious matter I wish to bring before you. You mentioned previously that some Sith matters are to be only discussed behind closed doors. I feel it is time we dismissed our respective minions and discussed these matters.”

Almost immediately after he finishes speaking, the elites push out there chairs, stand up and begin heading toward the elevator. Simultaneously, the Overlord reaches into his cloak and pulls out the worn book, confirmed to be of Sith origins, and places it on the table. “This is that rather odd book that my Chancellor was studying. I thought it only fair that you should receive it. If it was indeed created by another Sith order, I am sure it will be an asset to your organization”. By the time he has finished speaking the elites are in the elevator, awaiting any who Forge wishes to dismiss from the room.

Forge claps his hands, and Miss Cole, followed by the catering staff, enters the elevator behind the elites. Curiously enough, the two women seated on their pillows in the corner make no gesture to leave, a fact which doesn't seem to bother the Sith Lord in the least. The elevator door closes behind the parting company, and Forge slowly rises from his seat. He walks briskly across the room toward his counterpart, and lifts the book from the table with one hand. With his free hand, he flips open the book's heavy-bound cover, and begins to leaf through the pages. After several minutes of inspection, he closes the book, and lays it down upon the table. Forge pulls up a chair beside the Lord of Undelia, clasps his hands before him, and looks into his ally's eyes.

"An interesting exhibit indeed. I must tell you that this volume is not of my Order, or of any I am familiar with, for that matter. It would seem to be very old, several hundred years, in fact, much older than my own Order, or any other which presently exists upon the continent of Qer Tu. It is an intriguing matter to be sure. One can only assume that it was either brought here from outside, or that it belonged to some native civilization of this continent which has been lost to us. Of course this is all speculation.....truly, there are an infinite number of hypothetical ways that this book could have come to us."

Forge lays his hand atop the volume, and falls into meditative silence. After several minutes, he finally looks up at his ally, and speaks again.

"It would be good to examin the body of the fallen Sith from whom your people obtained this artifact. We Sith have many ways of obtaining information from the bodies of the slain which are not available by means of common medical autopsy. I don't suppose you have this corpse laying around somewhere, do you?"

The Overlord develops a slight frown and then replies, “We may have the body, unfortunately it would be indistinguishable from the other thirty or so rebels killed at that base. You see, when ever we clean out one of those wretched holes, we strip the bodies, dump them in one of our nations trademark craters and burry them in it. I doubt I could even find where they are entombed, considering we don’t mark mass graves and the men make no note of it.”

Out of the corner of his eye he notices the presence of the two women. Without turning his head he calmly asks, “Who are they? Are they high ranking members of your Order? Because, if they are to have a say in the important matters that we are to discuss, it is only fair that I know their names or at least their station.”

Forge frowns.

"That is most unfortunate indeed."

He then looks over to the two women.

"They? Your question is not an easy one to answer. Ancestors, plane striders, transdimensional beings, they can be described as many things. Prophets of a sort, though they do not prophesize in the strict meaning of the word. Both a blessing and a curse, they empower our Dominion by way of their foresight, tied to our line of Sith by way of ancient oaths made in another time and place, indeed another reality altogether. One thing is sure, they are not to be questioned. Though they may not seem to be altogether....present, I can assure they hear and feel our every word, our every breath, and draw conclusions. They are not to be questioned, for their wrath is indeed dreadful. Those two have the power to lay waste to both our nations with but a thought, and a sadistic, twisted sense of humor which makes that possibility all too present. They do indeed make powerful allies, and dreadful enemies. Should the alliance between us flourish and last through the years, they will most probably make themselves known to you. The closer Undelia draws to the Malchikai, the greater an interest they will have in guiding you, as they do myself. They dance along the threads of destiny, and have appeared here today because our destinies have apparently intertwined with one another. Now they observe. Let us both hope that they deem our union worthy of their good graces."

Forge's lips curl into a wicked smile, and he awaits his companion's reaction.

The Overlord’s expression is unreadable as he ally speaks. Waiting just a few seconds after Forge finishes, the Overlord says in a solemn tone, “Yes let us hope.” He eyes the women again before turning his attention back to the Dark Lord of The Crimson Sith and adopting a tone more suitable for a business transaction than discussions of the supernatural. “It is time we got down to business. I take from the history of your own people that all societies have Force capables among them, so I come to you today to offer the deal of a life time. The fact is, that to maintain your society’s hierarchy, you require Force sensitives. I believe some of my dominion’s corporations would be interested in a bit of an… exchange. I already have a business model in mind, if you are interested.” The Overlord’s pitch raises slightly near the end of his statement as he awaits the reaction of Darth Forge.

Forge plops down in a chair across from his ally, and lets out a slight chuckle.

"Interested? I would say that intrigued would be a more fitting word. Please, my friend, do go on. You have indeed sparked my curiousity."

The Overlord smiles slightly at the Dark Lord’s reaction. He continues in his business like tone, “Here is what I have in mind.”

“In my dominion those who break the law are temporarily indentured to corporations, but those who commit violent crimes, speak against my rule or support anti-corporate ideologies find themselves reduced to what you would probably call slaves. We , however, call them unfree workers, as opposed to free workers. Now, a corporation can pay a fee to the government in order to keep an unfree workers offspring, so, over the years, about ten percent of our population came to belong to that class. The corporations effectively own their unfree workers.”

“When I came to learn of The Sith, I got an idea. What if you sent representatives of your order to periodically inspect our nations labor camps? These representatives could possibly single out Force sensitives and purchase them, not cheaply mind you. Thus, you would obtain more Sith and my nation’s corporations would have an admittedly small outlet in which to alleviate the overcrowding and inefficiency at some of their more bloated camps. I trust you see the logic in it.”

Forge smiles broadly at his ally.

"A fine proposition indeed, one which I would be hard pressed to find any reasonable objection to. I accept your proposal, my friend, and am willing to make the necessary arrangements even as early as tomorrow morning."