A prized beast, loyal servant and guardian to but one master... one lord.
Culled from the best stock the galaxy should ever boast, amplified by the best enhancements technology could ever provide and, trained beyond the highest levels the galaxy would ever host. A creation given life by the most sinister forces imaginable, created to be the 'pet' of a twisted mind.

This was Dioan Silk, Sovereign Protector to Lord Maim, the one true Dark Lord of the Sith.

His had been a life lived in reverent devotion to the true host of evil... A life that had taken a fall for the worst in recent times.

With the loss of his Master, so had gone his sanity... any grasp he retained on reality had slowly snapped under the stress of being alone. A sort of depression had over-taken the soul of Silk, inspired by more then a sense of isolation.

Destruction had wallowed in his wake as Silk had made his way, forcefully, across the galaxy... searching for some sign of his Master, anything that would give him purpose.

Eventually, the darkness caught up with the savage Silk and it consumed him as it did. The memories were still vague of the time before darkness, occasionally stabbing his soul like hot iron when least he would expect it. Time was lost within the place Silk waited...

It had seemed he would not awake.

Then, deep within the reaches of his mind; a voice called. Something warm and familiar that stirred a waking, burning his dark soul, pulled him from within his dream... restoring his mind to some sort of sanity... reaffirming his grip on reality.

Slowly, it had all come together until, in one stammering explosion, Maim appeared... He lasted as an image for but and instant, his words were fleeting but, enough to spark Dioan Silk into action.

"Ziost. Come, my servant, come to Ziost."



Under the cover of cloak, a small Sith Infiltrator moved into orbit around the celestial body of Ziost. A shroud hid the crafts lone occupant from strong emanations in the Dark Force, easing his unseen arrival upon the ex-seat of power of the Sith Empire.

Even as the ship, Vornskyr, made its way towards the surface, the lone occupant made ready to move.

A furious torrent of wind-borne sand and dust assailed the small craft, obscuring its landing behind an uprising crag of rock... into which Dioan Silk fit his ship with perfect precision. After all, it was a locale the Sovereign Protector knew well.

Once within the safety of the crag, engines were disengaged and a passive sensor mask was switched active. Then, and only then, did a long slender ramp unfold from the aft of the craft, just below and behind the primary engines.

From within spilled an eery crimson hue filled the crag, casting blood-red shadows across the stone walls that stretched up above the height of the Vornskyr. Then came a shape, a distorted shadow which bore resemblance to the shape of a man but this seemed to... rigid, almost as if it were a moving statue. For long moments the shape stood there, seeming to test the air as if it were a deadly stream...

Satisfied with his place of isolation, Dioan Silk emerged from under the radiance of the ships interior lighting, continuing down the ramp until; with hesitation gripping his steps, the Sovereign Protector again place his foot on the soil of Ziost. From that moment, he knew, great things lurked just beyond the distant horizon.

At length, he spoke, "I am here, my Lord. Your servant has arrived, Master."

Even as the words slipped from his lips, long slender shadows likewise slipped from within the ship, shadows which were the ships name-sake. Around him the shapes moved, fanning out around the crags perimeter and, there they waited; like vigilant protectors.

While his pets, alchemically tainted Vornskyrs, sat as gargoyle guardians upon the edges of sense, while his pets awaited the word of their master... The master awaited word from his own. Patience nearly escaping his grasp, Silk awaited the arrival of his too long parted Lord.

Dark Lord Maim.

The former Dark Lord of the Sith, still hailed as such by some, moved through the shadows like one of the many wraiths the Sovereign Protector had brought with him. His form danced in and out of real space as it passed through shadow and darkness into being.

Shadow walking.

A skill he had learned from his son, like so many others. His form took shape from solid darkness and then, once more, he was born to the physical realm.

"Faithful servant, you have returned. For many years now have you served me with the utmost of loyalty and reverance. At last your loyalty will be rewarded. This day I name you Kracta of the my clan. You are now, and have been, our most faithful confidant and advisor. Our own Sovereign Protector. Now, I make such official. Come now, Kracta, and embrace me as a brother."

(Edit: Delet this.)

Such recognition... Such high praise...

Deep within the dark and twisted soul of that loyal servant, Dioan Silk, a feeling long forgotten stirred.
Pride.
Pride not of or for his master, but a sense of self-achievement as well. It stung him deeper then he would amidt, or show. Rather, he did as was beckoned and embraced Maim as both Brother and Deciple.

"I have long missed your command, Lord. I have brought with me those things you tasked me to protect. All is within the ship. Tell me, O' Master, does our time grow near?"

As the two spoke as kindred souls, the wraiths brought by the Protector watched on as vigilant as always in their task.

The former Dark Lord looked upon his new brother with a grin.

"Time does indeed draw near. Soon he will pay for all he has done. Soon his death will be but a fading memory upon this galaxy's blackened past. He is nothing, no one, and will soon be no more than another forgotten pebble on the road to power."

Maim looked upon his brother now with the widened eyes of knowledge, power, and hatred. A deep seated hatred which would consume the galaxy. A hatred which would soon consume one life or another. Death would befall the looser of this outcome and to the victory.. ultimate power.

So this would come to pass, sooner than later, and then would be once more forgotten in the tales of time.

The words of his lord filled Silk with an evil cheer that brimmed within him, urging him to follow the word of his mighty master.

"I am yours to command, O' Lord."

Waving a hand expansivly before him, Dioan nodded towards the ship.

"Your charriot awaits."

The former Dark Lord of the Sith nodded slowly then stepped within the vessel. Dioan Silk was, indeed, prepared and served his master well. Such was to be expected of his kind.

Loyalty never dies.

The Dark Lord seated himself within the confines of the vessel and then began silent meditation. He would remain in such a state likely until they arrived at their destination.

Xireon paced back and forth, his tattered rags wrapped tightly about him, his arms folded as they always were as if to ward off some unknown cold. His freakishly thin body moved stiffly as he muttered under his breath. "They're all here... the Dark Lords old and new..."

The voices echoed in his mind once again. Who indeed can say for how long, forever, this esteem between father and son will last...? The voice spoke in his ear, as if soothing him.

"What has become of your great loyalty to the Dark Lord now, spirit?" Xireon barked in reply, still quietly, his voice ragged.

It remains... I merely offer you a glimpse at what you cannot now see. It will help you, in time, I believe... The voice continued to trail off at the end of each sentence. Divus Kren, like many deceased Sith Lords, communicated with the living in menacing, mysterious proclamations. In truth, they could speak as normally as any mortal man, but chose not to. Mystery was the game of the Dark Side.

"How now, Divus Kren, do you play me in such a way? What does this matter to me?"

He will come for you... your presence here is not invisible, you must know this...

The icy catacombs were endless, burrowing their way beneath the great temple; once housing the seat of the sith empire. He could sense the essence of past masters, as their memories leaked from the walls, calling out to him, knowing his purpose.

He was not fearful nor was he relaxed. This place was teeming with darkness and history, both gateways to his future greatness. He vowed never to make the mistake of Naga and therefore he had come to Ziost to explore and learn of his lineage. He now knew he was the son of the Dark Lord Maim, a man with almost limitless power and knowledge, the very source of dark knowledge.

Yet he was drawn to an enigmatic figure, whose presence was fleeting, like a soft whisper in a crowded city. It resonated with great power but the mind was unique, calm and knowledgeable, never in fear of his safety. The Dark lord knew he must find this anamoly, speak with him and turn him to the path of the Dark Circle.

I am coming to you in the name of the Triumvirate, since the Dark Circle is the ultimate power in this galaxy, you must join us. All else is heresy and punishable by death.

Contuining his search, Sedriss made his way into the very bowels of the ancient dwelling.