Post by Darth Xaos on May 7, 2015 5:50:52 GMT
Continued from this thread
As Darth Ares' speech began to transmit throughout the Unyielding and its escort vessels, the words fell upon weary ears. The Union forces had won the battle but there had been no air of celebration or triumph immediately following the jump to hyperspace. Death had walked through their company an as-yet-uncounted number of times this day. When at last Ares began to address his men, they were all desperate for some narrative to give their tragedy meaning. At first blush the recovered fighters had seemed insufficient recompense for the battlefield losses suffered yet, such was their yearning to taste this victory as they had others, it would not have taken much skill to give the listeners a deeper meaning. Ares, for his part, had a great deal of skill. The Union federal soldiers opened their mental defenses to the voice of a Sith, as they were accustomed to, and the Chiss, though few spoke Basic, were swept up in the communal sense of catharsis and relief.
As the Sith Lord felt the attitudes of his crew change rapidly (from melancholy, to cautious hope, to a reverential sense of hard won accomplishment), he marveled at how far he had come. Once he had merely hoped to affect people this way, to change the course of intention for many minds with mere words. Now he knew several times over what that felt like. Ares had transformed the fate of New Alderaan and the Ashworlds, exerted an influence on Brotherhood policy (thus shaping the war in a proactive manner) and, presently, he was editing the future memories of the men in his fleet without recourse to the Force. As the reality of the moment sank in for the Miralukan, a number of conflicting sentiments came to the front of his consciousness. On one hand, part of him remained which was terrified that anyone, even himself, could hold such power. Yet, on the other, there was still so much more of this power to be gained. He knew of those who had achieved even greater heights; why shudder at the ability to shape the collective will of thousands when there is a whole Galaxy of which to take command?
The trip to Qoribu did much to bring Ares down from this intellectual high. Traveling through the Unknown Regions involves a fair bit more effort than moving about the opposite hemisphere of the galactic disc. Short hyperspace jumps followed by long astrogational calculations dominated the enterprise. After a few instances of wondering if he was lost, he became somewhat anxious about the seventy-two hour deadline he had set for himself. But, in the end, Ares arrived at his destination only slightly behind schedule.
Qoribu was an eerie sight as it hung in space, surrounded by a veil of moons. This place was much closer to that primordial labyrinth known as the Deep Core, and abundant nebulae colored the light of Qoribu's fitful sun. Of less concern to Ares was the proximity to the Deep Core than the proximity to Union-held Ilum. Below he could feel the swarm moving ceaselessly on the many moons. Though he didn't dare guess a number based on his Force senses alone, the Sith found the sensation similar to that evoked by metropolis worlds such as Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Yet, unlike the chaotic cross-purposes that came through in those places, here there could be felt unity of purpose with the dance of life across the spheres appearing like a well-choreographed dance. And Ares could feel the choreographer staring at him, through the Force, from the moment the Miralukan had exited hyperspace.
As Darth Ares' speech began to transmit throughout the Unyielding and its escort vessels, the words fell upon weary ears. The Union forces had won the battle but there had been no air of celebration or triumph immediately following the jump to hyperspace. Death had walked through their company an as-yet-uncounted number of times this day. When at last Ares began to address his men, they were all desperate for some narrative to give their tragedy meaning. At first blush the recovered fighters had seemed insufficient recompense for the battlefield losses suffered yet, such was their yearning to taste this victory as they had others, it would not have taken much skill to give the listeners a deeper meaning. Ares, for his part, had a great deal of skill. The Union federal soldiers opened their mental defenses to the voice of a Sith, as they were accustomed to, and the Chiss, though few spoke Basic, were swept up in the communal sense of catharsis and relief.
As the Sith Lord felt the attitudes of his crew change rapidly (from melancholy, to cautious hope, to a reverential sense of hard won accomplishment), he marveled at how far he had come. Once he had merely hoped to affect people this way, to change the course of intention for many minds with mere words. Now he knew several times over what that felt like. Ares had transformed the fate of New Alderaan and the Ashworlds, exerted an influence on Brotherhood policy (thus shaping the war in a proactive manner) and, presently, he was editing the future memories of the men in his fleet without recourse to the Force. As the reality of the moment sank in for the Miralukan, a number of conflicting sentiments came to the front of his consciousness. On one hand, part of him remained which was terrified that anyone, even himself, could hold such power. Yet, on the other, there was still so much more of this power to be gained. He knew of those who had achieved even greater heights; why shudder at the ability to shape the collective will of thousands when there is a whole Galaxy of which to take command?
The trip to Qoribu did much to bring Ares down from this intellectual high. Traveling through the Unknown Regions involves a fair bit more effort than moving about the opposite hemisphere of the galactic disc. Short hyperspace jumps followed by long astrogational calculations dominated the enterprise. After a few instances of wondering if he was lost, he became somewhat anxious about the seventy-two hour deadline he had set for himself. But, in the end, Ares arrived at his destination only slightly behind schedule.
Qoribu was an eerie sight as it hung in space, surrounded by a veil of moons. This place was much closer to that primordial labyrinth known as the Deep Core, and abundant nebulae colored the light of Qoribu's fitful sun. Of less concern to Ares was the proximity to the Deep Core than the proximity to Union-held Ilum. Below he could feel the swarm moving ceaselessly on the many moons. Though he didn't dare guess a number based on his Force senses alone, the Sith found the sensation similar to that evoked by metropolis worlds such as Coruscant or Nar Shaddaa. Yet, unlike the chaotic cross-purposes that came through in those places, here there could be felt unity of purpose with the dance of life across the spheres appearing like a well-choreographed dance. And Ares could feel the choreographer staring at him, through the Force, from the moment the Miralukan had exited hyperspace.