Landing Pad Hotel Bravo Zero Three

Clan Headquarters Facilities

Rabid Fox Mountain Range, Clovis Continent,

Judecca, Cocytus System

Dark Jedi Brotherhood Territories

The old Theta-class shuttle touched down on the landing pad, the favored one for Lucien Kaeth, recently promoted to the pinnacle of Clan power as its’ Consul. As he de-boarded the spacecraft, he glanced back at it in distaste. He made a mental note to ensure that he only used the newest shuttles from now on, and he had no clue how he got assigned the creaky old shuttle in the first place. If he didn’t need to leave in such a rush, he would have refused to ride in it. Rank hath some privileges, he thought sourly to himself.

As he walked on, he got the sudden danger sense, and dropped to the floor, his lightsabre out in a blur and in a defensive position.

It served him well, as various bits of shrapnel from the exploding shuttle impacted the blade instead of his own flesh. The bean counter part of his brain lamented the loss of thousands of credits in shuttle and droid pilot that would have to be replaced by the Clan coffers.

He immediately put that out of his mind, though. He looked around for the threat, any threat, both visually and through the Force.

He found it, not twenty meters away.

The blue lightsabre blade of his enemy scored through the belching smoke of the transport, giving some clue to the identity of the attacker, but between the swirls of smoke he saw the face of the combat suit wearing enemy he faced.

The Exarch snarled at the intruder, “So, your true feelings have surfaced. You think you can take the Clan back by force, but will defeat you because your time is over. It is my time, not yours!”

His anger was almost physical, but that did not deter the intruder. “What do you know of what this Clan needs or wants? In the long view, you are but a mere youngling usurper of power in this Clan,” he replied back, oddly cool and collected to the anger shown by the Consul.

“That is immaterial. I am new blood, what this Clan needs. Now, I’ll need to cleanse this Clan of your treachery.”

“You’ll find that it’ll be harder than you will have thought possible. In any case, you are the one committing a crime here, one that must be corrected.”

With that, Lucien felt the Force presence of ten other high-ranking members of the Clan flare into life around him, with one in particular. He sensed the Force presence of the deposed Consul, and he glared at his original attacker. He just said softly, “Timbal, you bastard, you side with a half-crazed monster….”

With that, the Exarch dashed forward, anger contorting his face. His lightsabre blade met the Epis’ blade, but that was only one of a few that landed.

The others were not far behind, the Equites engaging the Consul. His anger was making him powerful, but such power had a price. He was being worn down, he knew, which gave him hope. He knew that they were deliberately not taking strikes that would injury him greatly, maim, or otherwise kill him. He was under no such compunctions, but the sheer amount of combatants forced him to fight a mainly defensive battle, leaving precious little time to divert to offensive maneuvers.

Still, the people that faced him shocked him. Such Clan stalwarts such as RevengeX, Rhaub, Impetus, even Masters Natth a’Niel and the legendary Arania. However, the higher ranking members stayed put, allowing the lower ranking members to have a field day against the Consul.

Lucien won a few minor victories, a cut here, a slash there, but nothing permanent or causing them to fall back. They in turn took such light damage in stride, their faces impassive, emotions neutral. Against such opponents, even with his superb physical conditioning, he knew he was being worn down, and they knew it too.

Finally, he was ragged, and they stepped back several paces. “That’s right,” Lucien taunted, breathing heavily, “Step back, traitors all of you!”

Phoenix d’Tana Palpatine stepped forward, a maniacal glint in his eye. “Careful, Kaeth. Someone might take offense to that charge. After all, you are the one that has committed a crime, one that must be corrected.” With that, he lifted his hands, and with that same glee, the legendary Dark Jedi power of an electrical strike came forth.

Lucien lifted his lightsabre just in time, blocking it, but from his other side, Master Natth a’Niel followed suit, dropping the Consul to the floor, argent agony all over him.

They gave him no respite, but just as he was losing sight, the assault stopped.

Uncomprehending, he spit out the blood from his mouth that occurred when he accidentally chomped on his own tongue in pain. “Do it, DO IT! All of you go to hell!”

He heard Duda’s ghostly voice. “Defiance in the face of certain doom. Yes, he’ll do indeed.”

Lucien had trouble focusing, but he felt someone come close. He tried to punch the interloper away, his lightsabre long since lost from his hand. His weak attempt was brushed aside, and he felt his body being picked up, and the distinctive smell of bacta was in the air. He also heard the distant whine of a repulsorlift vehicle, coming closer. Finally he heard the rough, no-nonsense voice of Pontifex Cuchulain Darkblade Palpatine.

“Exarch Lucien Kaeth, the Palpatines of the Clan welcome your combat prowess, your tenacity, your intellect, and your fierce spirit. The Dragon that is Scholae Palatinae respects and honors this, and we respect and honor you now.

The crime of which you were accused of is actually our doing. You see, you have proven yourself worthy, and now we formally and forever throw away that accusation. You have been redeemed by your actions, and now the blood that has been spilled on your part and ours will forever mix together in our family.

Welcome, Brother Lucien Kaeth. We hereby commission and honor you with the most sacred trust that we could give anyone within the Clan. Welcome, Brother Lucien Kaeth Palpatine…”