Chapter 22 (Interlude): Darth Ominit

Darth Ominit scowled as he stood at the balcony of his two-story estate. His mind was in a lapse of turmoil once again. While turmoil was nothing new to him or any other Sith, he did not feel any comfort or sense of comfort from this turmoil. His mind had been dipping in and out of this turmoil ever since his exodus from the Rakatan ship and subsequent return. His fist clenched against the railing of the balcony and he worked his jaw.

He maintained his cool for another solid minute before he snapped, "MOTHERFUCKER!" He yelled as he slammed his fist down onto the stone railing, sending a small spiral of cracks through it.In a fury he spun around and stormed into his bedroom, his furious footsteps resounding throughout the floorboards and probably being heard by the cleaning droid's downstairs. His face was twisted into a horrific snarl, his dark yellow eyes glowing with his hatred. Everything had gone downhill for him ever since that damned ship. His standing among the other Darth's was in tatters, and his pride even more so. That was the part that irked him the most. He could stand being mocked and ridiculed by those old prisses on the council, even relished in it. Because try as they might, he had no interest at all in how they viewed him, whether it be traitor or even a Jedi.He slammed the door to his liquor cabinet open and violently grabbed the nearest bottle of Alderannian Wine, popping the cork off and taking a swig. He fell backwards onto his soft and hunched over his knees. His snarl died down slightly as he stared at the ornate carpet lining the floor.This had been his chance. The secrets of that ship would have been the final piece in the Kaviran puzzle. He had almost finished it too. He had Vancil, a native Kaviran who was willing to divulge about his planet. He had the knowledge of how to get in and out of the planet. He even had knowledge on what the Storm even was, no matter how much the truth had terrified him. The Rakatan Ship would have been the final blow, the final blow to get the power he needed. Then those damned Jedi had showed up.His free hand balled back up into a fist. He had not really been bothered by this whole war before. It was simply something that was happening while he was busy enacting his own plans. Hell, sometimes it was even fun fighting and massacring Jedi in droves. But this was the first time that the war had actually bothered him in any significant way.His plans were in utter shambles. Everything he had been working towards, lost in the instant Vancil and the girl had disappeared. Because despite him being only one of the pieces towards Ominit's ultimate plans, Vancil had by far been the most important, as a Sith couldn't have asked for a better apprentice.He had immense talent in fighting and navigating the intrigue of the Empire, and possibly could have been one of the greatest fighters in the Empire's history if he had been allowed to continue to rise the ranks. Not only that, he had an indomitable will, more so than any other individual Ominit had seen in his life. If that boy refused to do something, nothing short of physically incapacitating him and moving his body would get him to do it. The most important part however, was that he was perhaps one of the only trustworthy Sith in the entire Sith Empire.The primary problem that the Sith faced in both this age and previous ones, was themselves, as it was normal, almost even tradition, for the apprentice of the a Sith to betray their master and advance their own status. Vancil, while an…interesting character, had had no intention of betraying Ominit. While it may have been arrogant of the Sith Lord to assume as such considering their profession, he was confident in his assessment. Maybe it was due to his raising on Kavir and their twisted view of honour and strength, or maybe it was even his innate stubbornness keeping himself from going against what he signed up for. Either way, Vancil was only true person Ominit could have confided his true intentions in, and now the boy was done.Ominit licked his lips as he rested his arms on his legs, the bottle between them already half empty. He truly had fallen into the trappings of being a Sith, with all the plotting he was doing. He held a hand to his head as he let out a demoralised sigh and his yellow eyes dimmed alongside his rage. Everything was down the drain. Without someone he could trust, his plans would never work out.A light chuckle graced his lips, "I'd hate for you to find me now. Look at me, getting sentimental for a kid who came running to the psychopaths so he could learn to kill the good guys." He said, however the smile died down quickly, "I'm really losing it out here, aren't I?"A small beep from the transmitter in his gauntlet drew him out of his thoughts. Ominit frowned in suspicion as he saw the caller ID. With a sigh he stood up, flourishing his black cloak backwards as he stormed through the door and downstairs. The downstairs was as elaborate as everywhere else in the estate, barring a small room with no features or colour, with the soundproof plates making up the walls being the only interesting feature.With a hiss, the door to the soundproof room was shut. Why have a soundproof room in his own estates? Well, while Ominit had his own private droids, and factory reset them weekly, one could never be too cautious when one was a Sith.Smoothing his expression Ominit pressed the answer button. He had forgotten his mask somewhere upstairs, but it did not matter that he kept his face hidden or his menacing appearance maintained. A blue humanoid flickered in static from his wrist for a moment before completely solidifying and coming into focus."Lord Ominit. I trust you are well." Darth Malgus said, his expression twisted into the same neutral one as Ominit.Ominit snorted in derision at the comment from his compatriot, "Well? I just lost one of the most promising apprentices in the whole empire, and was forced to retreat."Malgus' face tightened at Ominit's boisterous claims of Vancil, but the man had seen the young acolyte himself, "That is…regrettable. I must apologise for that part, as it turns out I had a spy working under my nose this whole time. She was dealt with, but not before siphoning information to the Republic, the Rakatan Ship included."Ominit's blank expression broke into a snarl at the news, "Well good job prick. Your blunder is the reason everything has turned to shit."Malgus also broke into a snarl, albeit a more reserved one, "Watch yourself Ominit. Make an enemy of me and you'll find difficulty sleeping without one eye open."Ominit kept his anger present but did not push further. In all honesty, Malgus was right. The Sith was stronger than Ominit, loathe as he was to admit it, "Well what did you want then? I can't imagine you called to offer sympathies."Malgus remained silent for a moment longer before speaking, "That spy I spoke of also leaked a lot of military information. The Republic is moving in force, and it appears Alderaan is one of the targets. The council has decided that you are to organise the garrison forces there until I arrive with my fleet."Ominit froze up at that. That wasn't good. For Ominit, of course, he couldn't give two damns what happened to the Empire at large, much less a planet like Alderaan. It was bad, because if the Republic attacked Alderaan he himself was at risk of dying, or even capture."I see. When will your fleet arrive?" He tactfully kept even the smallest sliver of panic from slipping into his voice."We are already enroute. We should arrive in about eight cycles."Ominit nodded mutely, his mind not entirely in the conversation as it continued onto other necessary topics, such as landing zones and places to establish fortresses. The whole world seemed to have lost colour. Dying was the worst thing he could do. His plans were full proof, and had several backups, including the one that had just been thwarted. He was absolutely confident that eventually his plan would be realised. The problem was time.When the transmitter shut off and Ominit walked out of the room, it was in a daze. He stood outside the door to the room, blank yellow eyes staring up at the roof. His plans… tentatively, Ominit reached in to the small pocket in the interior of his cloak. When his hand came out, it brought something else alongside it. A small square of paper, about the size of the palm of his hand. Imprinted on this paper however, was the most important thing in the universe to him.A picture, of a light skinned, almost pale beautiful young woman, her arm over the shoulder of an also pale, but not as pale, handsome young man. The grinning woman wore a tight fitting, navy blue, windbreaker jacket and dark grey pants. A spear was hooked in her right arm, being entirely made out of metal with the point featuring elaborate wings below it. The most striking feature however was her impossible light blue hair flowed halfway down her back, the colour being the same as her eyes.The man in comparison, looked extremely ordinary barring his strange clothing. With black hair and dark purple eyes, the man sported a similar grin to the woman, even holding up his left hand in a thumbs up gesture, towards the camera. He wore a faded blue strange top, similar to a jersey he had seen some young people wearing on Alderaan except with a hood pulled up over his head, and also wore a pair of black pants. Also, unlike the woman, he held no visible weapons, except perhaps his fists.Ominit's gaze pored over the photo over and over again. He didn't remember much of anything from more than a decade ago, not his family, not his home, nothing; he knew one thing though. His thumb brushed over the grinning woman.Everything he worked towards, was so that she could find him. If his plan of making a disturbance so big it would act as a beacon to her didn't work, he would wait and try to stay alive. If he failed at that and died, whether it was of old age or to a Jedi's lightsaber, he was still confident. Confident that, even in death, she would be coming for him, to save him.A renewed smile of determination came onto his face as he tucked the photo back into his pocket. With a proud flourish he marched out of the door and towards his personal speeder. That's right, in the end, it didn't really matter whether he died or not. He was just impatient in being found.His smile spread into a devilish grin, "Time to make the Republic bleed for every inch of worthless forest."