Lords of the Sith

[Malon]

It had been too long since last he was on Ziost. Years, perhaps longer. Since having personally overseen the Empire's expansion into the Core, the Emperor had confined himself to Korriban, with the exception of his recent excursions to Lianna and elsewhere to quell the Empire's various noble factions. But the winds were beginning to indicate a change. The currents of the Force told him that the cold war wasn't to last. The Mandalorians, the Sith, and the Jedi—one side was about to make a move, and the Emperor, the Lord Darth Malon, was going to ensure that the Empire was prepared.

So, with new power, he called to them.

From the landing ramp that jutted out from the underside of his transport, he stood, cape flapping in the wind, and focused on the dark side of the Force. First, he quieted the innumerable voices that joined together within the Force's currents. This was a difficult task. The Force was made up of the life energy of trillions of living beings. Quieting them and drawing himself to the center was something only he, as a beacon of the dark side, could do. It was in the very nature of the dark side to make oneself the center. And from the center, find his true voice. The voice of the monster. The voice of the Shadow.

Come, said the Shadow.

No matter where they were in the universe, they would hear him—their Master's voice calling to them. This power, ancient and dark, was not merely the power to call out across space and time to those connected to the Force; it was the ability to use the darkness within them to compel them. Draw them to him like two opposing sides of a magnet. In this way, he kept in constant contact with his two top lieutenants: the Dark Lord of the Sith, Cain, and the Supreme Commander of his military, Rhade. Soon, they would be together again.

Here. On this planet. The unholy trinity united again as a warning to the galaxy that the darkness was still there. Still devouring. Still coming for them. And when they arrived, they would sharpen each other's blades in a way only Sith could.

And then they would make war.


@Intratec @Vinny — Death disabled practice PvP

 

[Vinny]

Cain had a deep seated dislike of Ziost. It was not the people that bothered him, per se, it was more the dismal nature of the place that made it unappealing. The vast wastelands that stretched out from the private spaceport where Cain arrived in secret did not have the same dark vibrancy that Korriban and Morriban had. They were simply dead, bereft of life thanks to the endless slaughter and violence wrought by the Sacred Band that once held absolute authority on this world.

Cain didn't miss them.

As he stepped out of his private shuttle, unaccompanied by the usual priestly bodyguard, Cain took a moment to breathe in the atmosphere and adjust. Malon's summons had been abrupt, but that was the usual nature of things. While the compulsion had lasted all but a heartbeat, Cain's loyalty to his master was without comparison. So long as Malon continued to uphold the will of the Dark Side, the Steward would continue to serve. That was their contract and both Cain and Malon knew the consequences if either of them breached that agreement.

Fortunately for the Dark Lord of the Sith, the team assigned to take him to Malon's side was as efficient as anyone could ask for. In minutes the caravan was secure and he was soaring over the wastelands toward the spot that the Emperor had picked for their meeting point. Cain took the time between departure and arrival to meditate and cool his mind; it had been some time since he had the opportunity to see his old friend in person. He always found meetings like this to be a bit stressful, if only because Malon had seemed on edge as of late.

When they arrived, Cain, in the appearance of his younger self, took to walking in solitude until he arrived at his Lord Emperor's side. With a swift flourish of his cloak, he dropped to a knee, his head dipping in supplication.

"I have come, my Emperor, as you have willed it."

 

[Intratec]

Ziost was his world. Cold, Desolate, and it broke lesser men. Just like home, like Khar Delba. But that had been another life, another time. He still felt pangs of days gone by. Which he tended to cure with liberal doses of Spice, Women, and Alcohol. The mental summons had come as a rippling current in the Force, controlled, but powerful. It showed that their Emperor was in a league of his own when it came to shaping the Force to one's will. He'd been aboard one of the many space stations orbiting Ziost when the mental summons insinuated itself in his mind. Colonels, and Lieutenants jockeying for his attention. He had waved them off, allowing one of his assistants to take over. After all, he was the leader of the whole bleeding Imperial Legion. His was the mailed fist of the Empire.

So it was, as Cain made his way by land, Caduceus had come by air.

His own personal craft, crewed by an overzealous, but gifted pilot who the Supreme Commander had handpicked for the job of ferrying him to and fro manned the helm. Fond of the spunky young pilot, he usually let him fly a bit showy. The vessel came in at a nosedive, leveling off in the distance. Flying low, it eventually slowed to a stop close by Malon's own transport only to land near it. The rear landing ramp came down and out marched four Stormtroopers, all members of the elite corps judging by the insignia on the left shoulder pauldron of their armor. Each took positions beside the ramp, weapons in hand, barrels pointed down, at ease. From within the lit interior came the other that Emperor Malon had summoned. Dressed in a crisp suit of smoke gray minus a tie, the Supreme Commander appeared as if he had come from some business meeting rather than inspecting Ziost's defenses. Hands clasped behind his back, he cut an impressive figure. Taller than what was typical for humans, broad shouldered and well-muscled beneath the suit, he walked with an artless grace. A man who would never let himself go to fat or excess. And one who currently wore a small, secretive smile as he stepped down the ramp, all four the Stormtroopers going rigid, heels clicking together in unison. These were his guard, or part of it.

After their job, partly to secure the landing area had been fulfilled, Caduceus clapped one of them on the shoulder. And without command all four went back up the ramp. They knew the drill. Walking toward the two waiting figures, the Sith came to a stop beside Cain. He offered Malon a curt nod combined with a slight bow.

"Majesty, I've come as you've bid."

 

[Malon]

The Emperor did not have to wait long. Darth Cain was the first to appear, kneeling at what he knew to be the pinnacle of the dark side religion he served: the Sith Emperor. He and Cain had longed for an empire for some time prior to Darth Solum and the former Emperor making it a reality. In the time since then, it was the two of them who had forged the Empire into its present visage. There were few more worthy than Cain to head the Sith Order.

Rhade was a newcomer to their circle, and second to arrive. The new Supreme Commander had replaced the former Warlord Szebat as the pinnacle of the Imperial military. Drawn from the ranks of the Sith, Rhade had been the one Malon had found most worthy to serve as the third member of their dark triumvirate. Yet, Rhade was also the reason for their summoning. The Emperor knew Rhade was powerful, but he was determined to figure out just how powerful by the end of this meeting. He did this to ensure the Empire's leadership was the picture of strength.

It was with that thought that he addressed his lieutenants, gesturing for them to abandon their bows to commune with him. "There is a disturbance in the Force. For five long years, we have made war against this galaxy, and our Empire has flourished as a result. The cold war that followed has given our Empire time to adjust to its new girth—and to its new position atop the galactic pecking order. But that cold war is about to break."

He paused and allowed himself to face them.

"The Jedi intend to seek vengeance for the Republic we toppled. The Mandalorians see both the Empire and the Jedi as adversaries—rivals to be bested, to prove their worth as warriors. I do not know which side will make the first move—on that, the Force has not been clear—but I have decided not to wait for that answer. To be blind-sighted by an attack, when I have sensed one coming for a time, would be foolish. Therefore, in one week's time, we will attack the Mandalorians at Bandomeer and rejoin our Empire's fractured halves."

He eyed Cain first, then Rhade. "In preparation for this, I have called the both of you here, for a ceremony to commemorate the occasion. The three of us shall prepare one another for the war to come by doing battle here, on this scarred landscape. The rules of this ceremony are simple: there is to be no killing and no maiming. This is not a contest of supremacy, but an act of training—ensuring that our minds and blades are sharp for the bloodshed to come. As a result, all tactics may be used. You may fight for yourself or team up, use whatever act of trickery you desire, so long as the rules I have laid down are observed."

He paused again, giving each a moment to process his commandment. The dark side, as if in anticipation for what was about to happen, began to gather around them. The wind picked up and black clouds gathered overhead. Then did he add, "If this is understood, prepare yourself."

@Vinny @Intratec

 

[Vinny]

Not a sound was made as the Dark Lord rose to his feet. The minuscule gesture from his Lord was enough prompt to beckon him to follow. He crossed his arms behind his back, walking at his master's side. Walking ahead was disrespectful, walking behind was foolhardy. Always at his right. Always in a position of respect. Restraint and Respect had kept Cain alive this long, it would continue to do so. The Dark Lord of the Sith nodded in growing understanding. He had been surprised to sense Rhade's presence approaching, such a reunion of the Triumverate was unprecedented.

He eyed Rhade out of the corner of his eye as they walked. The man was foreign to him. Unlike Szebat who had been a friend and confidant, Rhade struck him as a mystery. Cain liked mysteries. Despite his suspicion of the man he was honestly a little pleased to see him. Though he missed Szebat, Rhade represented the shedding of the last remaining vestige of Dark Brotherhood leadership. Cain had risen during the Imperial Ascension period and was not tainted with the mindset and propaganda that the old ways had used. So too was Rhade free of this.

A test of strength, and a punctuation of the new era. It would seem that the Emperor wished to test both Cain and Rhade. The Emperor knew of the changes taking place in Cain's body but Cain had been careful not to display the extent of which the Dark Side had turned him into a host creature. Was the Emperor becoming impatient or did he fear what Cain was becoming? Cain could not say for certain. The Dark Lord's curious gaze cast over his master. A curious gaze that turned to one of warning.

"A ceremony of blood it shall be then. A test of our power." The Dark Lord said, inclining his head. Yes, and a test of your ability to lead, My Emperor. If you have wavered in your commitment to our contract, I will destroy you. I beg of you, prove me wrong. The Dark Lord strode away walking to the edge of their battlefield.

"Before we begin, I have word on Project Nepotism. My priests have completed work on the first stages of the new formula and should have it to the Legion's scientists within the week." He looked up to the sky, turning on his heel and staring at the other two. He called the dark side to him, its mighty flow billowing around him like a shroud. Curtains of black might coated the air, and the temperature dropped several degrees. Cain let out a visible breath from his lips and held his hands out to each side, entreating the Dark Side for more. He opened his eyes. "I am ready."

 

[Intratec]

For his part, Caduceus listened, a polite, if slightly amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was more for the Emperor's words than what Cain had spoken of. A test and consecration. The nice old words. To be completely fair he had done little in the way of fighting since rejoining the wayward kin that was the Sith Empire. Oh there was the incident with the self-stylized Red Witch on a certain planet or another. And then Barab I, but neither had quite piqued his desires, stoked the flames buried deep within his warrior's heart. Those instances had been against mercenaries and reptilian barbarians.

Opening his jacket revealed a pair of lightsabers, unadorned, functional done in an older style than what was commonplace in these heady days of a cold war.

Plucking them from the small catches, the Sith moved to his own end of their intended battlefield. Shucking the coat; resting it tenderly atop a small boulder he continued to wear that insufferable almost smile. Extending his arms, the elbows popped, his neck canting to the side enough to do so as well. Limbered up, he nodded to what Cain said. "Well! I'm certain they'll try to find a delivery method for it." was all he had to say on the matter with a small wave of his lightsaber clutching hand. Already an idea of where to deploy it had come to mind. A proud facet of the once bloated corpulence that had been the Republic.

Shifting himself to a readied stance, he flicked a dial on both sabers, the lethal blades would be toned down to something more appropriate. They would not cut limbs off, but it would hurt all the same while leaving no lasting damage or scarring.