Years of indignity within the Empire had finally amounted to something. She was no longer looked at as a lowly alien, but a true Sith. Powerful, both in the Force and with her political sway. All the plotting, scheming, and planning had finally come to fruit. Her seat upon the Council was secure, and yet something was missing. Hollow and empty.

A candle was cradled between her hands, one keeping it aloft while the other protected it from the gentle breeze. The small flickering flame cast an eerie glow on Cirila's blue skin. It danced about, unable to wholly dispel the shadows that threatened to overtake her.

The night air held a sharp chill to it. In the distance she could hear the chittering of Kiliks, further still the almost rhythmic rumbling of explosions. In spite of the war, however, Cirila had managed to find a quiet place.

Bare feet glided across the earth, carrying her to the banks of the nearby river. Word of her most faithful servant had come to her only a few Alderaanian days past. The news of the Cipher Agent's death was difficult for Cirila to swallow. "Unconsolable" had been a word used by her closest circle to describe her mood of late.

Everything the Chiss had become over the last several years could be traced back to Cipher Seven. No, not Cipher Seven - Nessia. Most did not know the extent to which the Sith had used the sniper. The young woman's work had always been flawless.

Blue toes dipped into the cool water as Cirila stopped at the edge of the river. The very fringes of her black dress kissed the water as she crouched down. Her hands gently broke the surface of the water, laying the small candle gently afloat in the stream. A gentle nudge with help from the Force pushed the tiny, flickering light down on it's path. Lifting her hands back out of the water, she cradled them together as she straightened her body.

Tears welled in her eyes, one blink sending them cascading down her cheeks as her focused red gaze watched the light travel down the river. As the tears rolled down her face, and water carried the light further away, Cirila could feel a burning rage well up from the pit of her stomach. No task of her's had put her dear servant in such dire straits. She would tear apart whatever unfortunate soul had seen fit to put her in this devastating position.

"My lord?" The soft spoken voice cut the air like a vibroblade, yet Cirila did not flinch. Instead she slowly lifted her gaze, twisting and looking over to see the owner of the voice nearby. Now that she saw him, his presence fell heavier upon her senses.

A light breeze pushed away long strands of black hair that covered her face. Red eyes glistened with tears, moisture reflected on her cheeks from the growing moonlight. Wordlessly now, he stepped forward and extended his arms. No encouragement was needed as her lithe body collapsed heavily against his chest. Body quivered as more tears formed in her eyes. He didn't know all the details; he didn't need to know all of them. He was there for her and that was all that mattered to Cirila.