The officers took their place in front of the pews one by one. Ruin heard them all shuffle into position. He stood in front of the stone altar, his hand lying flat upon it, back turned to the assemblage of officers.

While awaiting their arrival, he had set Radix to rearranging the room in order to better befit a council chamber. Though a newly-anointed Sith lord, the boy still asked the same impudent questions of a squire.

"Why here?" Radix asked while pushing pews together. They made the damnedest racket as they gritted and screeched across the floor. An occasional splinter would fly out from the rotting wood. "We have a war room on the other side of the pass. What of your throne room?"

"I find myself warming to your former persona as the fool," Ruin said, his voice barely above a whisper. He had been looking at the altar then, too. The dignity of looking upon Radix directly was more generosity than he could spare. "But you are a lord freshly made. It would behoove you to act one."

Soon enough, the pews had been rearranged into a square around the focal point of the rubble in the citadel's center. Ruin's face curled in disgust at the sight.

"What is it, master?" Radix eased over to Ruin's side, staring at his handiwork with that stupid slackjawed smirk of his.

"This will not serve," said Ruin. He threw up a hand and waved towards the rubble.

"But-"

"But your negligence will prove your undoing. Clear this trash from my sight."

He watched the boy for a time, until his eyes began to dart side to side. After the grinding noises plagued him for a second too long, Ruin commanded Radix to stop. The Dark Lord took a glance over his shoulder and saw the pile still yet stood, though only half as high. "Passable," he said, shaking his head.

That had probably been an hour ago. Time was elusive to him these days. Rhen Var's idea of night was a sky in a darker shade of pale, weeping grey blots of snow instead of white. Now all the officers were behind him, awaiting his command.

"Be seated." Ruin turned to face them at last. He strode down the small set of steps from the altar towards the table. His burgundy robe trailed behind him. It threatened to swallow him whole. Ruin had always been inclined to thinness, but the last few months had left him gaunt. He stood behind a pew and curled his fingers around it. Instinctively, he tried to reach out with his stump as well. "I regret the sudden change of location."

He looked around at his guests. It was the same group present for his meeting with Mandalore, though this time they brought more underlings with them. To his left was Admiral Yaris, young and svelte with a tangled mop of black locks that trickled down from his head in blades. Vice Admiral Norith was at his side, just as young as his companion, though much more homely with his wide set eyes and jowly cheeks. To Ruin's right was the First Captain Varsh Myrm, recently recovered from an arduous bout with Tythonian fever. His second, Corporal Regina Orbus, passed him water in a heated flask. Opposite Ruin, at the other end of the table was General Loram, who looked even worse than he did at their last meeting. Loram had served with Ruin since the beginning. He had been old then as well. He was flanked by his lieutenants Marlow and Marlow, twins in all but blood.

Finally, there was Radix, who returned to Ruin's side after making a circuit of the makeshift table.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Ruin said as the boy stopped by his side.

Radix shrugged.

"Seal the door."

Radix looked at him dumbfounded. "W- with what?"

Ruin felt the blood in his face boil as he slapped Radix across the cheek. He saw the officers all turn to face him. So sheepish. They were all so absent-minded, so useless. They would not dare speak against him, though he was never quite sure if it was fear or indifference that assured their silence.

"Good help is so difficult to find these days," Ruin said, brandishing a smile at his officers. It slowly turned into a sneer. "Wouldn't you agree, General Loram?"

Loram coughed and wheezed. Drool and spittle leaked from his mouth just like the snot from his nose and water from his eyes. "Yes, yes, yes, my lord. Yes, quite."

A loud thump echoed throughout the ruined citadel as Radix dropped the pile of rubble in front of the entryway. For a moment, the only sound was the boy panting, almost in chorus with the howling of the wind.

"Tell me, General," Ruin said. He began walking, moving to his left behind Admiral Yaris. "How long have you been in my service?"

"Twenty years, Lord Ruin." Loram said smugly, yet it dissipated quickly in a coughing fit. One of the Marlows swatted him on the back to break up the mucous. "Twenty years I served in your name." He hacked and wheezed again, getting globs of frothy spittle all over the floor in front of the pews. The cracks and fissures sucked it down with relish. "And when you call your banners again, my lord, I shall have my men ready to fight at your command."

Ruin beckoned Radix to his side as he rounded the corner towards Loram. Just as soon he sent the boy away to the opposite corner. The other officers watched in total apathy, their eyes glazed over. Yaris coughed and rubbed his nose; Myrm blew his own into a black handkerchief; Orbus took a swig from her flask; Norith briefly flashed a smile of yellowed teeth, though he tucked it away when he caught Ruin looked at him. One of the Marlows coughed as Ruin stepped behind him.

"And General Loram," Ruin continued, "would you swear fealty to Darth Cinder when she arrives?" He set his hand atop the pommel of his lightsaber. The cold metal nipped at his bony hands.

"What?" The old fool coughed again. It was grating in such close proximity.

"You're old, not deaf," said Radix. Ruin tightened his throat for that remark, and the boy kept his lips sealed.

"Lady Cinder is still my second. Do you swear fealty to her?"

Loram went into another coughing fit, spraying phlegm everywhere. Ruin stood still as he waited for the fit to pass. Marlow looked over his shoulder and gave Ruin a smile. The Dark Lord smiled back.

"No, Lord Ruin, I will not."

Ruin bristled for a moment and his grip tightened.

"No, I will not," Loram repeated. He was not yet senile, though his age was certainly outpacing his wits. "I serve only the dark lord."

Ruin clawed at the hilt with a withered fingernail. "And if she were to become Dark Lord?"

Loram hacked up a great glob of spittle that dribbled down his beard. It dropped at Ruin's boots. "She's a traitor who will get what she deserves in time. Don't worry, I'll make sure of it my lord. You won't have to worry-"

Ruin ran his blade through Marlow's throat. At the other corner, Radix did the same, pulling his blade out of the fresh hole in a clean motion. Ruin cleaved his free, letting Marlow's head plop into Loram's lap. The other officers perked up at the violence, but disinterest was still splayed plain across their faces.

"My- my- my- what-" Loram stammered before he broke into a coughing fit.

"As I said: Good help is hard to find." Ruin leaned in behind the general, setting his stump on his shoulder before stabbing him in the back. He watched the crimson blade exit the general's belly before he switched it off.

"As for the rest of you," he said, looking across the remaining officers, "do you swear fealty?"

There were murmurs all around. Vice Admiral Norith was the first to speak up: "Does she return?"

Ruin exhaled and fastened his saber back to his belt. He raised his hand and sent forth forked rays of lightning, crackling blue and white. Norith keeled forward, writhing on the ground and howling in pain, dancing like an electric marionette.

"Please, Lord Ruin, let him go," said Yaris. His beady eyes flitted back and forth between Ruin and Norith. Both of Yaris' hands went to his throat when Ruin turned his gaze in the admiral's direction. He began to claw at his throat until it wept scarlet tears. Tears streamed from his puffy eyes.

"This is not what I asked, gentlemen," Ruin said. He put an end to his assault for the moment. Yaris gasped for air and returned his hands to his sides. Norith continued rolling on the floor, moaning. Smoke billowed from his fatigues in fat black plumes. "Will you swear fealty?"

"Aye," the two men resounded.

"Captain Myrm?"

The captain put away his handkerchief and clasped his hands together. "You need not even ask, my lord. Whether to you or Lady Cinder, my allegiance is to the Sith Order."

Ruin caught himself smiling at that. Myrm was ever a faithful servant. He turned to Orbus. "Corporal?"

"Lady Cinder is the reason I am even here. Of course I will serve." She was the newest member of the military cadre and Ruin still found himself unsure of her or her motives. He found himself focusing on all the wrong aspects: the shape of her face instead of her ability to command, the size of her bosom instead of the exploits that earned her keep, and the huskiness of her voice instead of her fondness for giving orders. "Though, I must echo the fleet's concerns. Does she return?"

Ruin closed his eyes a moment and chewed on his next words carefully. They are soldiers, he thought. They are better served by what they don't know.

"Yes," Ruin said, first to her, then to them all. "Lady Cinder returns and she will be with us shortly."