Might makes right.
An old saying that for the most point is true.
Those who are in power shape the world and its people around them, those in control make the reality and truth where before there could be horror and lies. Those in power did indeed control much with words or blade that made up their might, they gave life as much as they could take it away, damned people and made saints out of others.
In the life of a Sith might meant taking life all too often.
Their battle harden souls gave no way or path to those that treaded lightly and those who proved themselves were rewarded. He had left a call on his apprentices Zena's communicator in her room to come to the council room where he currently sat upon a seat in silence, his cloak hanging down all around him. Through his hood only one eye showed and in its orb was darkness and rage.
It would not be long till she arrived.
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