Adrestia stepped toward the center of the podium. There were camera flashes and reporters posing questions she had no intention of answering, so she took her time. She slowly but confidently sashayed her way to the mic, adding just a dash of sexy to her mystique.

“Hold your questions until after please,” Adestia announced as an opening comment. The crowd of reporters erupted into dissent. “Hold your questions until after I have my say,” she said in an authoritative manner that made the most excitable reporter shrink back, even if they didn’t actually understand that they were doing so.

“I know I’m new here. But so are millions of others,” the elf like woman announced, emphasizing millions, giving an obvious nod to District VI, where refugees were clustered. “Some human, but others of a different variety, some rich but others poor,” Adrestia said bringing attention to Districts V and VII; the so called Down Zone and the Alien District respectively. These were her bases of support. Together the three districts formed a slight majority of the population but were only thought to be the dregs of Eden Society by those who lived in districts I, II, III and IV. The dregs had a vote but no corporate backing and therefore no money flow. So their political pull had been close to nil until now. Until Adestia and until Liath CO.

“Eden has always been ordered through backroom deals in smoke filled rooms in Uptown Office Spires or seedy Downtown Casinos.” She said looking in the faces of those cheering her on, from the back of the reporters. “But with me as Governor of all of Eden you will have a say, you will have representation; you will have a voice!” the woman who was a Gray Jedi unbeknownst to her adoring public said, as the public erupted in cheers.

That speech blasted through every holoscreen, in every establishment, on the entire planet. Her poll numbers were shooting up and up with every public appearance. It was clear the public of Eden, at least in the poorest and most populated districts; wanted a change. The reporters grilled her for another twenty minutes, each one hoping to find a chink on her armor. But all of her answers were polished, well studied and articulate. Every time she opened her mouth she made the current governor, a former reality star known for making buffoonish statements, look like a fool.

Close to an hour later, as she stepped from the long hallway into her quarters she pressed a button. This button ensured that no one could be bugging her in any way she wasn’t aware of. Her powers in the force ensured this. Not long after there was a buzzing sound followed by a beam of light. She bowed low, her legs spread somewhat suggestively as she looked into the gaunt face that no Tarenti would mistake, Sith Battlelord Etah.

“Yes my master” the soon to be governor delivered with practiced ease toward the holographic display.

“Appreeentice” Etah said in a slow, drawn out manner. “So how goes your quest?” the spooky man inquired.

“We will have hold of the reigns of the government soon m’lord,” she said with a pleased coo.

“Excellent, you have served the Clan Tarentum well my Apprentice. Prepare for my arrival.”

“Yes m’lord” she said as the image of the Sith Equite went dark.

Adrestia surveyed the rubble that passed for a city in District 5. Though it was devoid of wealth she reflected that it wasn’t devoid of happiness. Swarms of children played games, while young men sprinted around each other in search of treats. A group of women were playing a game that involved kicking a ball. Everyone around her wore the kind of smiles one would only expect from the rich. Were in not for the foul stench one could be forgiven for mistaking this random day on the streets of the slums for a wonderful fair of some kind.

But when the Seer looked deeper, she saw all the scum and villainy capable by society. She saw young men perpetrate violence one another, she saw young women abducted on the street to be pressed in service as whores. She saw men stealing from one another. She witnessed drunks ejected by strong men from pubs, only in this environment can ignorance truly thrive, the Seer thought to herself. A hundred million police in a hundred years couldn’t make this area safe, a hundred million scrubbings couldn’t make the area clean. District 5 should clearly be avoided she thought to herself.

This awful balance is why Liath is present she continued in thought as she continued on in her way.

Adrestia sat angrily in her chair. She was not used to sitting still; she was used to sailing through the stars and nebulas of the frontiers of Wild space, for months on end with no one outside her crew in sight. She was used to the warm hum of the starships main drive, through the cold durasteel deck. As a girl and then as a young women it comforted her and kept her from feeling lonely.

Now that she was tied to this planet; locked inside this building, she stared at the floor. A warm carpet was stretched across the surface of the floor, but the carpet was dead. It didn’t pulse with life, the warmth was in the fabric not from the heart of the structure and there were no vibrations to sing to her, and rock her gently to sleep the way the engines of a starship still seem to, even today.

So the Gray Jedi Equite sat, in the middle of the dark early morning hours; covered in a cold, sticky, sour, sweat. As she stared at the lifeless floor; her eyes glazed over, dried and became bloodshot.

Starring at the individual strands of the carpet that sprung from the floor in wayward fashion, as if randomly and without purpose; she said out loud toward the floor, in the empty room, “Shab!” she exclaimed.“If this election isn’t the death of me, you will be.”

She said this toward the floor as her fingers traced the outline of a dagger located in the waistband of the small of her back but then she suddenly realized that stabbing the carpet did sound crazy. Questioning her sanity she stood and existed the room in an exaggerated huff.

Fear was the feeling the crept through the assembled servants of Sadow as they stared at the spectral visages dancing just outside of their collective vision.

Fear was particularly terrifying to the assembled group of stoic Dark Jedi because it’s not a feeling that came naturally to the heirs of Darth Sadow. When you can jump through the air, read people’s minds, move things through the air and block the shot of a laser beam at it races toward you at the speed of light; there are not many things that can surprise you. When few things can kill you, there is only one thing left to fear: the unknown.

The ghost like beings, with blank faces, that floated nearby; looked physically present but in some kind of haze. The rational mind wanted to dismiss them as mere apparitions created by their collective imaginations. Had not this same collection of people laughed in the past when speaking of the Tarentis weird spirit superstitions? How could they be real? How could they be standing in front of them?

‘What, if any, were their capabilities to harm a Dark Jedi’ the Clone Archon thought to himself as the astral choir began to shout. A panic rose as the attack began.

Etah, a Harbinger of terror and a servant of death, smelled their fear from far away. He didn’t know any form of ghosts were involved, he was a reaper; not a sorcerer.

“Prepare the ship,” Etah said into his hologram relay device.

The black VT-49 Decimator dropped into orbit over the planet where the Temple resided.

“VT-49, identify yourself,” an eerily pleasant voice came over the speaker.

“Tell your Consul, Sanguinius, that the shadow that has become death; haunts him still,” Etah’s answered somewhat quizzically.

“Lower shields and prepare to be boarded VT-49,” the chirpy voice replied with a little more resolve.

“That would be a mistake,” Etah informed them casually.

Before the fleet of Naga Sadow could respond to the developing situation, a new line entered the conversation.

“This is the Consul, authorization code 11 Alpha, stand down; VT-49 is clear for landing,” Sang’s voice rang over the line. “What can I do for you old friend?” the Entar continued.

“You know why I am here; terror always follows death just as misfortune must always follow fortune,” the Sith Battlelord replied cryptically.

“Beef said you had started acting strange, I didn’t actually believe you were stranger than you were within the Shadesworn,” Sang said half concerned and half joking.

“Things change friend, nothing in fact remains the same. Even when we think it does. It will be interesting working on you over this matter,” Etah replied.

A hologram of Dark Jedi Master Bloodfyre appeared on the deck, Etah nodded his head briefly toward the hologram acknowledging his mentor but much less dramatically than some other Tarenti would have.

“I’m glad you made it, for there is much work to be done” Bloodfyre said to Etah through the homogram.

Dathomir Passerby,
Glowing red dot in the sky.
The Deathsworn descend.

Forward the Deathsworn strode
To the planet Dathomir they would go
The spirits of the Night Sisters they would goad
Their secrets, the Sworn would expose

Over time Tarentum had grown frail
Their powers over the spirits of the dead had failed
Stolen by persons of unknown origin
For purposes not yet determined

The Nekros Syndicate was sent to probe
The dark planet and the secrets it may hold
But the mysteries of the Sisters weren’t meant to be told
They never should have been so bold

The Nekros are ultimately expendable
Only the will of the dragon is inviolable
Their brothers in the syndicate, they would mourn
As necromancy within Tarentum is reborn

Tarentum
Dark, Victorious
Descending, Defeating, Murdering
Sith, Death, Flight, Night
Running, Hiding, Dying
Meddlesome, Destructive
sisters

Manually added