Galactic Alliance Senator Rokari Kem posed a potential threat to the Lost Tribe, High Lord Ivaar Workan told Grand Lord Darish Vol earlier today in their last conversation over their comms. So Vol decided to deal with her personally.
He walked up to the door to Kem's apartment, stopped to use the Force to simply unlock the entrance, and it was a simple matter of walking in to find the female Jessar sitting on her plump couch as if in expectation of Vol's arrival. She made no remark as to his intrusion, nor did she even ask who he was.
"Senator Kem," Vol said in a formal tone as he used the Force again to lower the door behind him back into its locked position, "allow me to introduce myself. I am Grand Lord Darish Vol of the Lost Tribe of the Sith, and I have heard from a loyal High Lord of mine that you pose a threat to the Lost Tribe."
"Oh?" Kem asked in a mock-curious tone. "And what do you plan to do about that, Grand Lord Vol?"
Vol then unhooked and ignited his red lightsaber. "I intend to murder you, Senator Kem. So, any last words before I remove your head?"
Kem was silent with an expressionless face for a moment before she suddenly broke out into laughter. Vol's own expression morphed into one of confusion.
"You? Kill me? I'm afraid you're sadly mistaken, Grand Lord Vol," Kem replied in a chiding tone.
She abruptly reached out with one hand and the lightsaber in Vol's grip was yanked out of his own hand. The weapon flew straight into Kem's own hand as she simultaneously stood up from her couch. Then, with her free hand, she reached out for Vol at the other end of the room, her arm turning into a long, gray tentacle in the process.
Vol jumped out of the way of the tentacle and rolled across the floor, but when he landed in a crouching position, he was smacked in the back of the head by the same tentacle, causing him to crash prone to the floor. Then the tentacle grabbed him by the right ankle and yanked him all the way to Kem, who then smacked him against the ceiling three times for good measure before allowing him to collapse to the floor on his back, his body severely bruised from the beating he just received and his face bleeding from the impacts against the ceiling.
Vol's vision was a blur given what he just went through, but even so, he could see Kem's eyes miraculously transform from their regular orbs to tiny pinpricks of light. Her mouth extended into an ear-to-ear grin whose teeth sharpened into that of a monster.
Abeloth! Vol realized with a sudden loss of hope. "You... you will never prevail against the Lost Tribe," he said weakly.
Kem-Abeloth's laugh became high-pitched and... demonic, was all that Vol could think. "Why would I want to prevail against your Tribe anyway, Vol?" she asked. "They serve as quite the distraction for the Jedi as I go about the matters of the galaxy that really matter."
"Wh-what are you talking about?" Vol asked.
Abeloth only chuckled this time. "The Jedi will return, you know, Vol," she said. "And they'll try to reclaim Coruscant from your people's grasp. But whether or not your people fall isn't relevant to me in the long term. Because, by then, nothing and no one will be able to stop me." She then raised the saber above her head. "Take comfort in this though, Vol; I'll send your regards to Lord Workan."
The saber swiped across Vol's neck, and he was no more.