Eternal Empire
Prologue
Stars twinkled high overhead as a woman wearing typical witches garb, large pointed hat included, finished scaling a tall hill that overlooked the little city of Magnolia. Her scarlet colored hair ran down from beneath her hat in two thick braids. In her right hand was a large wooden staff. She planted it firmly in the grass atop the hill she stood upon. Her gloved hand gently caressing the fine wood finish. Tonight was the night. This warm summer evening was the one her Emperor had foreseen. The one she was told to watch out for.
It was a mission meant only for her. A surveillance mission. Nothing more. Keep an eye on the child that was about to be born. Make sure she lives until the return of her Emperor. Those were her orders. And she took those orders very seriously. She did not know the ultimate purpose behind this mission. She did not know why her Emperor wanted her to keep this child safe. But frankly, she didn't care about the why's and how's of it all. If her Emperor commanded her to do something, then it would be done. No questions asked. And his orders would be accomplished to the letter. Regardless of any variables that could arise.
When she was told that she must execute this mission alone, she took that to heart. Her two loyal servants, Heine Lunasea and Juliet Sun, were so disappointed when she ordered them to remain in Alvarez. Those two were like her own little children. And they acted like it sometimes. Especially in the moments after she informed them they would be staying at home.
Her red lips smirked. Those two complained like little toddlers. Then again, it could be that boring when in the company of August. Maybe the old man would teach them some patience. It would do them some good.
A gust of warm wind whipped by her, causing the trees surrounding her to shudder. And with it was carried a cry of pain generated by a young woman. It made her hair stand on end as she heard that ear piercing wail of pain. Irene Belserion pitied the young woman in the small cabin below. She knew the kind of pain she was going through. It certainly was not pleasant. And as cruel as the Scarlet Despair could be, she wouldn't wish the pain of childbirth on any other living soul.
Her sensitive ears began to pick up panicked voices coming from the cabin.
"Natsu, fire will not help!"
"I'm trying to keep her warm, Luce!"
"Dammit all Salamander, back off!" A gruff voice snarled.
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!"
"Yes Meldy."
"Thank you! Just breath Wendy… ooosah."
Another wail of pain made Irene's ears ring. She winced and picked at her left ear with her pinkie finger. That one was exceptionally loud. She sighed and leaned up against her staff. This was going to be a long, loud night.
A dark presence descended like a black storm cloud behind her. Irene's previously bored expression changed to an intrigued one.
Perhaps it won't be as dull an affair as I thought.
Without evening turning to address her guest, she spoke.
"I was wondering if you were going to show up for this."
There was no reply. Just the sound of bare feet stomping towards her. The raw power of the being behind her made Irene want to shudder with anticipation. Oh a fight with this creature would certainly be entertaining. She was craving a good challenge. She hadn't had one in years. And old August never entertained her challenges. That old stick in the mud. But… she had a job to do.
Her staff flicked out and caught her visitor on his muscular chest, making him freeze in place. She could see the fury in his green eyes at being denied what he desired. A tsk sound came from her lips.
"Not another step closer dear." Irene warned, "Or things may get rather nasty."
The man beside her was tall and muscular. Long, wild, dark blue hair ran down from his head. His shoulders and bare chest were covered by a torn black cloak with a necklace of red claws around his neck. At the center of the necklace, was an opaque crystal foreign to Irene's eyes. His tanned skin was covered in blue markings that ran like ribbons over his rippling muscles. His dark green eyes were rimmed with black and they carried a sharp look that could make any woman swoon or tremble with fear.
"Do you really think," He started, his voice growling with malice. Powerful fingers with long, sharp nails gripped the staff a lowered it away from his chest, "That you can take me, witch?"
Irene smirked, "I'm not sure. But I wouldn't mind finding out."
Her visitor grinned, blood lust filling his eyes.
"However," Irene continued, dashing his smirk from his lips, "As much as you and I desire to have fun tonight, my Emperor would be most displeased."
He growled, "Your Emperor has abandoned this planet."
"Has he now?" Irene replied, "And how did you acquire your accurate intelligence?"
His green eyes narrowed. She was mocking him. It made him want to kill her right where she stood. But her lackadaisical attitude and confident demeanor in his presence made him hesitate. There was more to this witch than met the eye. It would be wise to exercise caution with this one. She was not simple prey like the others.
"My lord has not abandoned this planet. He is merely lowering its profile by removing himself from us. Temporarily of course."
"For what purpose?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
His claw like hand reached out to grip her throat only for a delicate, gloved hand to easily catch his wrist.
"All you had to say was the magic word, dear."
He growled. This woman was testing his patience. Perhaps he would make her prey tonight. But the whereabouts of the black wizard were more important than satisfying his growing blood lust. He had always been aware of the man's whereabouts. But suddenly, nine months ago, the one man who could challenge him for supremacy over this planet vanished. And this woman claimed to know why.
"Please." he snarled.
"Oh very well." Irene smirked, "The black wizard Zeref is no more."
His green eyes widened in surprise. That was not an answer he was expecting.
"He has been, oh how do I put it? Upgraded? Maybe… or is it better to say replaced?" Irene shrugged, "Semantics matter not. But know that someone far more powerful than Lord Zeref is now my Emperor. And he did not remain on this planet, because if he did, the Jedi would come for him. And he does not wish to be discovered, yet."
"So I have no challengers?"
"As of right now, no." A mad grin spread across her visitor's lips, "But… ponder this, Dragon King. Do you want the fury of the Sith Emperor coming down upon you?"
The grin died immediately. His green eyes narrowed at her.
"Who?"
"Oh you know who, you overgrown lizard." Irene snapped back, "Don't play dumb. I know you aren't. You are ancient enough to have heard the legends of the man from the Sith themselves."
She heard him gulp.
"So you are aware!?" She exclaimed, "Good. Now… before we continue, may I inquire why you have descended from your throne in the mountains and come down to little Magnolia."
The man turned his gaze away from the woman.
"I felt the presence of a Sith being born." He scowled, "As well as a dragon."
"A sith dragon!?" Irene gasped, "Such as yourself!? Now we can't have that can we?"
"Enough of your mocking, witch."
Irene's playful grin fell away. It was replaced by a cold glare that managed to make the man shudder a little bit. If he ever did fight this woman, it would be a battle he would long remember. He had no doubts she would make him work for victory.
"Very well then. Ruin my fun." She grumbled, "This family is under the protection of my Emperor. You are not to lay a finger on Wendy Marvell or her child. If you do, there will be no where you can hide. No where you can run. Your only option will be to submit to him, or kill yourself."
"Do you think I fear an ancient being such as him?"
"I know you fear a being such as him. Otherwise, you wouldn't have stopped to talk to me." She saw the defeat on his face. It may not have been the type of battle she craved, but it was still an entertaining little discussion, "Run along, Dragon King. There must be other things for you to kill tonight."
As suddenly as the man had appeared, he left. But unlike his appearance, his disappearance was a silent act. An act of cautious calculations. The Dragon King was by no means a fool. He now knew who he might be up against. And judging by how easy it was to persuade him to leave… he was afraid.
….
Great stone doors that had been sealed for centuries slowly groaned inward, allowing a storm of rust colored dust to come into the cavernous hall in small flurries. Once the doors had opened enough, a lone figure stepped through them and into the dark halls of the massive palace. With a simple raise of his hand, the great stone doors stopped swinging inwards. His hand then fell to his side. As if they were heading the commands of their master, the doors swiftly sealed shut once again. Preventing more of that infernal red dust from entering his beloved palace.
It had taken him nine months to finally reach this place. His pilot had great difficulty finding it on the star charts for him. Then there was the matter of plotting a new hyperspace course. Several thousand years lying dormant in a holocron tended to change one's perception of a galactic map. There were planets on it now that he had never heard of before. And there were asteroid fields, nebulae, supernovas, and black holes that had previously not existed during his time thousand of years ago. All of those small variables had to be accounted for when traveling the stars. Otherwise, big consequences could result. Most notably death.
The body he possessed was supposedly immortal. Impervious to all physical harm and ailments. But, he had no desire to test this out. For all he knew, the curse that once gripped this fragile human form had lifted once he assimilated Zeref into his consciousness. Or maybe he owned the curse now. In which case, no more need for essence transfer. That was a lovely possibility. It was after all, a tiresome and lengthy process that always left him far weaker than before.
His boot clad feet gently carried him across the dust covered floors, further into the darkness of the long abandoned temple. He counted his steps, drawing from his long memory the number of footfalls it took before he finally reached his destination. At the right number, he stopped walking and smiled.
There it was. His absolute favorite chair. A regal seat made of the lightsaber hilts of his defeated foes. And it had leather cushions still, excellent. He took another step forward before pausing. The sound of two stone statues breaking made him smirk. His smirk only grew wider as he heard the padded footfalls of two men in black robes stepping towards him from either side. Their faces wholly consumed in the shadows of their robes. Their hands hidden in black gloves. Not a speck of skin showing for either of them. The only way to distinguish the two was by height. One was tall and incredibly thin. The other was shorter, stockier, and broad shouldered.
"Ah…" He started, rising to his full height and nodding to the two robed figures, "My favorite priests." He held out his hands to the side, "I have returned, as promised."
"How can we know it is you, Master?" The tall thin one to his right inquired.
"How can we know that it is our Emperor?" The short, stocky one to his left wondered.
The man grinned, "Apt questions. Ones that shall now be answered."
He raised his hand and the entire temple began to tremble. The two priests remained unmoved as the Dark Side of the force roared and heeded the call of a master. Pale lightning danced off of the fingertips of his raised hand before shooting outwards in great bolts. Each bolt struck a pillar in the palace. And as the pillars were struck, fires began to burn around them, illuminating the once dark, desolate place. Despite the flickering orange flames around them, the two priests were still entirely hidden in shadows.
The storm of lightning continued as each pillar was struck. Wind whipped up into a fury and the Force howled at the mighty power being conjured. When he was satisfied, the man lowered his hand and the last bolts of lightning struck the stone walls with a loud clap of thunder.
The priests judged the man silently for a moment. Then they both dropped to their knees and bowed lowly.
"We welcome you home, Emperor Vitiate." They declared in unison, "We have been patiently awaiting your return."
Vitiate smiled, "I can see that." he stepped towards his favorite chair and sank into the cracked, dusty leather. Instantly, he felt far more comfortable, "Such loyalty will be greatly rewarded." He then nodded to them both, "Rise."
The ancient Emperor tapped the armrests of his chair, dust puffing up from the worn leather as he did so.
"I see the place has not been well kept."
The slim priest gulped, "We had to conserve our energy my lord. Your return took far longer than we had anticipated."
He nodded, "Understandable. We can easily acquire slaves once again to perform maintenance. But first… I have a task that needs to be completed by both of you. Well, two tasks actually." He tapped a comm on his wrists, "Pilot, you may enter."
With a wave of his hand, the great stone doors opened, allowing a young pilot wearing a Galactic Empire uniform in. He held a handkerchief over his face and wore tinted goggles over his eyes. Both were now covered in a layer of dust. His platinum blonde hair was caked with rust colored dust that swirled in storms outside of the palace. Behind him, he dragged a floating durasteel coffin.
With another wave of his hand, the doors sealed shut behind the pilot.
"Come closer, pilot. And bring the cargo with you." Vitiate ordered.
The pilot readily complied. He carefully guided the coffin towards Vitiate's throne. Both of the shadowed priests watched with interest as the young man strode forward.
"Zeref never asked, neither have I. But what is your name?"
"Zak Tratt."
The Emperor raised an eyebrow, "Mandalorian? No wonder I liked you. I must thank you as well for your loyal service. Without it, I never would've gotten to sit in my favorite chair again."
Tratt bowed, "It is an honor, my lord."
"Oh, please. Do show our priests what is in the coffin."
Tratt nodded and quickly hit several buttons on the side of the silver tube. The top slowly slid to the side and hovered beside the bottom. Both priests glided forward and peered inside.
"Strange armor for a pilot?" The slim one muttered.
"The Dark Side of the Force clings to him." The stocky one commented, "Who is this, Master?"
"It'd be more accurate to say, who was this man." Vitiate replied, his tone growing somewhat somber. Both priests drew back when he said this. It was unlike their master to feel remorse for the death of anyone. And he seemed to sense their surprise, "The personality of this body assimilated with my own. And I picked up some of the traits. One of those traits was… a somewhat somber attitude towards death. So forgive my tone, it means nothing other than that. Simple side effects of yet another essence transfer."
The priests nodded before returning their attention to the boy in the coffin. Their shadowy fingers slowly began to prod him. Examining the cold, dead body. Running gloved hands through his blonde hair and opening the lifeless blue eyes.
"His name does not matter." Vitiate stated, "He was a simple grunt that was killed following a space battle, nothing more."
"Who killed him then?" Asked the thin priest.
"There are no wounds." The other observed.
"Does it really matter?" Vitiate said with disgust, "His death, as I have already said, is insignificant. I think you both will be interested by what resides inside of this insignificant pilot." The priests stared intently at the body, "Do you feel it?"
"Another exists here." The tall one deduced.
"Another sith, who has learned your ways, master." The short one noted.
"Correct. Inside this man, is a particular parasite named Darth Plagueis. Aptly named if I do say so myself." He leaned back in his throne, "Draw him out. I want to speak with him."
The priests bowed to their Emperor before spreading their arms out over the casket. They then began to chant in a language that Zak did not recognize. It's words sounded harsh to his ears and it made a well of fear build up in his chest.
"I would suggest you move back, Mr. Tratt." Vitiate advised, "Lord Plagueis is not going to be in a particularly good mood."
Zak gulped and stepped a few paces back. Suddenly, the chanting stopped. Zak arched an eyebrow. Nothing had happened. The two priests remained motionless, stooping over the casket like two gargoyles from the sides of a Gothic cathedral. Vitiate leaned forward in his seat.
A sudden blast of energy sent Zak flying off of his feet and colliding into the pillar behind him. Rust colored dust kicked up all around him, covering his skin and uniform in even more of the stuff. The priests had slid back a few feet, but kept the same stooped posture as before. Vitiate was unmoved. The blast not even affecting him. Not a single hair on his head was even moved out of place. Although he did have a small smirk on his face.
Zak's eyes widened in fear as he saw a dark flowing shadow appearing from the once lifeless body. The chanting of the priests were no longer mutters but loud shouts in that grating language that made him feel unrestrained terror. The shadow finished billowing out of the boy and slowly floated over in front of the casket. Then it began to take shape. Zak saw the form of a shadowy Muun in black robes appear before Vitiate's throne.
The two stared at each other silent for a moment. Vitiate with a mischievous gleam in his eyes while the shadow fumed. Then the shadow raised a cloudy hand. Vitiate instantly jumped to his feet and copied the motion. Two pulses of the force burst from the hands of Vitiate and Plagueis. They collided in between, causing a small, flame-less explosion to occur. The sound of which made Zak's eardrums pop.
Vitiate's lips turned into an amused smirk before he balled up his hand into a fist. The shadow screeched in pain and was thrust to the ground.
"You should know better than to do that, Plagueis." Vitiate stated.
"I will not be made into a servant!" The shadow growled before being flipped over by Vitiate.
"Oh really? An interesting declaration." Vitiate chuckled before losing his casual demeanor. His face turned into a mask of malice that made Zak tremble, "They all said that to me Plagueis. Before they bent the knee to me."
"They were all weaklings!"
"Much like you are to me." Vitiate retorted, tightening his fist, "Come now Plagueis. You know you cannot resist me. However, I can understand your reservations on becoming one of my many… partners. But, I can assure you. The benefits far outweigh the risks."
"I am no servant!"
"Would you rather serve a rich king? Or be a poor beggar?" Vitiate asked, "Or… worse yet, a dead Muun." he cringed, "That would really put a damper on your quest for immortality now wouldn't it?"
Plagueis remained silent.
"I have things I can offer you, Plagueis. Many things that you desire. You are… an intellectual like myself after all." Vitiate rose from his throne and walked over to the casket behind Plagueis's shadowy form, "And an intellectual, does not wish to die until they discover all of the secrets of the universe, and the force." His hand pushed the casket closed, "You cannot do that with a dead host. And if you do not find a new host soon, you will be claimed by the force. And...well, if you do not wish to serve me then I hope you enjoy Hell."
"Wait." Plagueis snarled, stopping Vitiate from telling his priests to banish him away, "If I were to become your… partner. What would you have me do?"
Vitiate smiled, "I would have you be my eyes, ears, and mouth. I would have you be the one going out into the galaxy and bringing me new potential Sith Lords to train. I would have you be the face of my Empire until such a time that I decide to emerge once again."
"And why would you choose me?"
"Because Plagueis, your accomplishments have not gone unnoticed by me. You are very talented. And if it wasn't for your apprentice's treachery," The shadow darkened, "You would've possibly become the greatest Sith Lord who had ever lived. You are excellent at playing the game of influence. And while I am too, I cannot afford to expose myself. I am still growing used to this body's limits. For all I know, I cannot control my signature with this form yet and the Jedi will be immediately alerted to my existence. That is something I cannot afford. So… I need a middleman. I want you to be that middleman. You will be second to me in my Empire. So really, you are a partner. Not a servant."
Plagueis hovered before Vitiate. The offer was actually a really good one. Certainly preferable to being claimed by the Force. He could already feel it pulling on his ethereal form. Trying to take him away from the realm of the living. There was one problem with Vitiate's offer. Plagueis would still be merely a servant to him. And that made his blood boil. He served no one. He was the one meant to be served.
But, he didn't exactly have a choice from the sounds of things. It was either die and be claimed by the force, or join Emperor Vitiate and play a part in his grand plans. With a disgruntled growl, Plagueis made up his mind.
"I take that as a yes." Vitiate stated.
"Yes."
Vitiate's lips curled into a smile, "Very good. You will need a pseudonym out in the galaxy. No doubt the sudden reappearance of a Hego Damask would cause some controversy. That is the last thing we need. Choose a name that does not sound threatening. Then begin your work. If you find a force sensitive worthy of the Dark Side, then bring him to me. Once you deem him or her ready of course. In the meantime, I shall work on your reward for your loyalty."
"Reward?"
"Yes, Plagueis. I always reward loyalty. It's not something that I take for granted. You seek a permanent vessel. One that is powerful and worthy of your own power. You thought Lord Draconis was that vessel. Unfortunately, you also chose someone that the force had deemed its champion of the Dark Side. Strange how common coincidences like that are in our universe. And so you were denied."
Vitiate walked around Plagueis's shadow and sank back into his throne, small puffs of dust coming from the cushions as his weight sank into the seat.
"I will not deny you Plagueis. When I find a suitable host for you, I will present them to you. And you can do what you please. But until then, do your job. And do it well." Vitiate snapped his fingers at the tall, thin priest, "Priest! Assist Lord Plagueis with finding a physical form. And make it a good one."
"Yes master." The tall one bowed before waving at Plagueis to follow him deeper into the temple. As they left, Vitiate turned to the lone remaining priest.
"I have one more task for you."
"Name it master, and it will be done."
Vitiate nodded at the casket, "Give him a proper service. He has earned such."
The priest tilted its head to the side, puzzled by his Master's strange kindness.
"Must I repeat myself?"
"N-no master." He bowed, "It will be done."
"Good. Hurry up now. We have many tasks to complete." Vitate wiped a finger on the armrests of his chair and rubbed the dust between his index finger and thumb, "The most important of which will be dusting."
