Korriban Horuset System Circa 5110 BBY

Massassi Warriors dragged the pulped body of the once powerful Lord into the throne room, unceremoniously. Seated upon his Great Throne, Marka Ragnos observed the treasonous Sith before him. Pure of Blood, unlike himself, Lord Okemi had been nothing short of a nuisance to the true Dark Lord of the Sith. Many who crossed Lord Ragnos met brutal, anguishing deaths, a reminder to all those who would challenge his rule. Ragnos held a soft spot for Okemi. It was not large, but the time the two men had shared growing up left enough of the Dark Lord’s ferocity checked that no more blood would be shed this day. The Empire had greater things to occupy its time.

“My Dread Lord, Marka Ragnos! King of Korriban, Ziost, and Dromund Kaas. Dark Lord of the Sith, Sovereign of the Realm of the Empire, the Dark Council, and all feifs, vassals, and warriors”, the powerful baritone of Ragnos’s Chamberlian announced the arrival of the prisoner, “Before you lies the condemned traitor, criminal, and enemy of the realm. What would you have us do with… It?”

Marka Ragnos rose from his throne, stepped lightly upon the steps leading to the carpeted floor below, “You have accomplished much in your short life, Okemi. What good you have and may have done is out-weighed by your attempt on my life, and my throne. You are hereby exiled from the Empire. You are stripped of your rank, your title, your fiefdom, your properties, your servants, and your dignity. I proclaim you Naur’sith, Not-Sith.”

Ragnos stepped upon the hand of his would-be usurper. He took great pleasure in the sensation of the man’s bones splintering beneath his foot, “You will be transported to a backwater planet where you will be free to live out the remainder of your short life in contemplation of my mercy and my fury. You may select 100 persons to accompany you into exile. Lord Vitiate will bear you and your company aboard his personal vessel.”

Okemi pulled his broken hand back in toward his core as Ragnos released it. He pulled himself to his knees so that he sat, his back hunched, head hanging against his chest, as he cradled his sword hand. Fury flashed across his face with the mention of his also-rival, Vitiate. The young man had literally sprung from no-where, arising through force of his talents in the schools of Dark Magic and Sorcery. Sensing his scorn, Vitiate smiled. The man’s jet black eyes revealed none of the inner fire that drove him to act, revealing none of the man’s brutality, duplicity, or the tactical genius that would latter mark him as one of the Empire’s greatest.

Marka Ragnos replaced himself upon the throne, settling into the stone emplacement with an air of comfort that none present mistook as anything less than a display of true power. Unafraid of those that would challenge him, unaffected by the recent turmoil stirred up by the broken Sith kneeling before him, “Lord Vitiate: I will leave the Naur’sith’s final destination up to you. I wish to never see, hear or think of this fool again.”

Vitiate bowed and strode from the hall.

---

Aboard the Tempest Terminus-class Destroyer Outbound from Korriban System

Okemi glared at his fist, gnarled and broken. Marka Ragnos’s foot had pulverized the tender flesh, fresh from the torture pits. So many emotions circled around in his conscious thoughts that for once the Sith Lord was unable to focus. Rage; his carefully laid plans had been undone by the treachery of a single bought-out lieutenant. Confusion; how had he failed, he’d never failed. Fear; was he truly to live out his life in isolation upon an alien planet for the rest of his time? Anger; Vitiate, that frekking worm and his charcoaled-eyes.

As the Dark Lord reigned in his emotions, focusing on the power and strength lent to him through the Dark Side of the Force, he watched as the knotted, twisted mass of barely healed flesh and bone began to rearrange itself. The cracking of bone could be easily heard throughout the small cabin along with the odd, sickening slithering noise of skin and sinew and tendon moving back into place. It was excruciatingly painful, but a lifetime of sacrifice caused the pureblood Sith to never bat an eye. Within minutes, the hand was as it had been for much of his life. Cool to the touch, powerful and vice-like, and fully functional. It wasn’t so much healing as it was commanding his flesh to do as he bid.

He backed away from his intense concentration as he sensed the approach of a powerful man. True enough moments later Okemi’s eternal rival and means of exile appeared through the previously locked entry, “Impressive. Most impressive.”

The man’s black eyes reflected the Sith’s image, lending itself to Okemi’s belief that the younger Sith Lord had immersed himself in the thought of destroying all his plans, “This?”

Okemi held up his fully healed hand, “Unfortunately, it is a technique I alone command, and I will take it with me into exile.”

Vitiate strode forward and confidently seated himself in one of the luxurious couches present in the small cabin, “Still, laid low before all the Empire, you still spit in the face of your betters. You truly are a beast and a vile creature.”

“You didn’t come here to compliment me…”

“You’re correct. I came here to gloat. To stroke what little ego I allow others to see. To be honest, I’m displeased with what I see.” “I apologize that my head does not sit upon your mantle; I do know how much it meant to you. Have you selected my…”, Okemi sought an appropriate term only to be interrupted by the man across from him.

“—Grave? Not as of yet. We’ve narrowed the possibilities down to a single system, as of yet unnamed. There are several planets capable of supporting life, but none too comfortable.”

Okemi sought to penetrate the Sith Lord’s thoughts, but instead found his own mind laid open and bare like a simple manuscript. Vitiate tore through his mind with such ease it astounded the nearly century-old Sith. Lord Vitiate’s trespass was not gentle however. Every memory, every thought he touched became twisted. He ravaged the mind of Okemi, tearing knowledge and secrets from the confines of his mind as though his hands were alight with fire and they ripe for the picking.

By the time Vitiate finished, Okemi was upon his knees, clutching his skull in agonizing pain. Small streaks of blood ran from the corner of his eyes as the man released him and strode to the door, “Very clever. Not many would have the strength of will to command the flesh of their body in such a way. I will find this very useful.”

---

ABY 35 Citadel Ruins Dromund Kaas Dromund System

The planet was eternally drenched in a gloomy miasma. The Battlemaster picked his steps carefully, unsure which dark, wet patch of vegetation was solid ground and which would lead his next step into the swamp. The planet itself was covered by the swamp, lending to it the rancid stank of rotting fauna. He attempted to reach out into the Force, but was unable to discern anything of worth. Such was the danger so close to a Nexus of the Dark Side.

Gradually, the swamp gave way to more solid ground. With it, so did many of the larger trees and plants. The gentle puff was all the warning the native Dart Flower gave before releasing a swarm of needle-sharp poisonous darts. Even so, the Battlemaster deflected the cloud and crushed the offending flower. As he approached the center of the ruins, which were once the seat of the resurgent Ancient Sith Empire, the man stopped.

“I was concerned you wouldn’t make it.”

“You need not worry about me, My Lord.”

A cloaked figure emerged from a shadow, seemingly melting from it as though he were taking corporal form, “Such is your worth to me. Tell me, what news have you?”

“The Grandmaster consolidates his base of power. The Clans have returned to hibernation and believe they are once again safe.”

“Very good. And the VOICE?”

The Battlemaster smiled, and looked around him, “Tell me more of this place”.

The shrouded figure paced forward without speaking until he was beside his thrall, “This was once a great citadel. In my meditations, I’ve seen glimpses of what once made this planet great. An Emperor of the Sith, his name is lost to me, once ruled much of the Galaxy from here. Palpatine is said to have been the first Sith to rule the entire galaxy, but even on his greatest day, his empire paled in comparison. The commands of the Emperor, made here on this spot, resonate even today. Your Brotherhood, I believe, is connected to the history of this place.” “Fascinating. What happened?”

The shrouded figure was again silent. He chose his words with care, “The same thing that happens to all who believe themselves invincible. Go, return to the Brotherhood. Do my bidding and you shall be rewarded.”

And now for a tremendously late report!

As you may have deduced, I'm going to start including characters an situations that relate to the lore and background of SWTOR into our fiction. The Brotherhood isn't just a creation of the post-Imperial era, its roots stretch back all the way to the Old Sith Empire itself. The Great King Okemi was exiled to Antei for failing in his treachery, and rather than succumb to his punishment, he rose above it and created a lasting empire of his own.

Newer members, or those whose interests are piqued by this sort of thing should jump over to the Wiki and start reading. I'm sure Ben will love the attention.

We had some great submissions for the MTs of December! I was surprised to see so much representation of the DC, but I chalk that up to the fact that our all-wise, all-knowing GM has decreed that Dark Councilors should be just as active as the members they serve!

Gain 1st - Robert Sadow (CNS) 2nd - Eiko (DC) 3rd - Shikyo (DC)

Loss 1st - Rasilvenaira (HSP) 2nd - Shikyo (DC)

This month's MTs have already begun. Again, those events are:

Three Man RO - Small strike teams have been assembled for a singular purpose. You have been given an assignment and must carry out its directive.

Assemble a group of three for a Run-On and turn in your team by the 16th. Run-Ons will run for a month and will be judged on Continuity, Entertainment, and Complexity.

First Level Crescents to winning group. Starts Jan. 16

Choices - There are those moments when you are presented with life altering choices. To kill or not to kill. To succumb to passion or not. To turn your back on the light or night.

Write a fiction, no shorter than 900 words, describing a pivotal moment in past, present or future.

Third Level Crescents to be awarded Starts Jan. 13

As a reminder, I am focusing my efforts on driving Character Development. Keep this in mind in your submissions. Entries that display a growth in your character (whether inter-personally, emotionally, mentally, physically, or spiritually) will score higher than those entries that do not. This is the same with the ROs that I will be judging.

Also remember that when you submit an entry to me, or any other leader for that matter, that there are certain things you must do. Remember to clearly state the name of the competition in the title of the entry. Please include your name in the document and in the document name (if not just your pin in the file name). Remember to CC all your relevant leaders. These are all all measures that will ensure your entry is not discarded by the grader or lost.

~His Excellency, the Voice of the Brotherhood Vodo Biask Taldrya