Castle Politics.

[Dakota]

GALIDRAAN, LATE EVENING. A FOREST LANDING ONE MILE FROM THE GOVERNOR'S CASTLE.

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Long before the fall of the Empire, the cruelest of labors and most banal of tasks and missions would be reserved for the lost possible classes of Sith society; Acolytes, slaves, rejects and other hearty species far away lands. Enthralled by their Master's control over the Dark Side, these beings would push themselves to their absolute limits, erecting monuments and grand statues depicting the visage of their idols, the detail of which reflected only upon their fanatical worship. Now, nothing remains besides that colossal wreck known as Korriban except fallen busts and the eroding reliefs of victories and conquests that had long since become alien to the darksiders. The Dark Lord would never set out on missions on his own, not unless the threat was dire and his presence was required to stabilize the collapse of a planetary government, or to issue justice to those who had gone against the Sith war machine. But the times have changed. Humility is, perhaps, the greatest weapon a Sith can possess; the lack of which has caused the descent from more great men from the precipice of power than has any blade or great war. One must never be afraid to work with their own hands. Especially if the reward is an Empire renewed.

His steps slow and deliberate, he is the first to file out of the Shuttle that has deposited them all on the surface of Galidraan. It's a sharp contrast to the desert world which they call home, though not as bitter as the biting cold of Ziost. It's actually quite a pleasant world, though in the eyes of the Dark Lord, it serves only one singular, pragmatic purpose. He'd since left his sword on the shuttle to avoid suspicion, though the hilt of his saberstaff remains buried deep within the confines of his tattered robes, and his face is still heavily concealed by the black shadows that seem to follow him wherever he goes as he glides across the new-fallen snow. He must look a sight, a tall black entity roaming across the pale white background. But he would never forsake his identity for the allegiance of such an unimportant world, where he could just as easily coerce the Governor on his own through his own supernatural abilities. But, perhaps that's why the others are here. Surrounding them are miles of tall pine trees, each of which equally coated in snow which lay thickly drifted across the land in all directions, except for the footpath in front of them. This leads to the Governor's castle, which can be seen, if only a little, on the horizon before them.
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As they begin to walk, his voice crackles to life, the presence of the Dark Side around his body providing a kind of morbid sensation of warmth in spite of the cold environment. ".....This castle is guarded heavily by the Governor's own protection. Should you reveal our presence or attempt to harm him in any way, we will be forced to take action." His hands clasp together, feeling at the wrinkled, disfigured skin. "....I would prefer to avoid that. Choose your words carefully...if the presence of the Sith is revealed, our best layed plans may very well fold in on themselves before they begin."

@James Steel, @ZabrakBustati.​

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[Where]

Zaylow nodded to the Dark lord saying "Agreed, lets not linger here too long. Perhaps, we could effect the Governor's mind with the force. It could make this operation much easier?" Zaylow took a nice long look around the area, it was quite a cold environment with some trees. If they needed, they could escape into the forest. The cold wind continued to blow causing Zaylow to regret his choice of clothing, "Come on its getting cold..."

 

[ZabrakBustati]

Acolyte, yet another word for slave, and to think she thought she was free. Did it matter though? She knew the role cast for her, she had practiced it well over the past nine years. At least this path, unlike many others offered freedom should patience, hard work, and cunning prevail. She was dressed in simple clothes, black trousers and a grey shirt, not appearing to belong to any special sect, a mere servant in the midst of their presence. Her ebony hair was pulled back, parting neatly over her crown of horns to reveal crimson skin and wispy tendrils of black carved by ink as was the tradition of her people. Her amber hues were directed downward, lifting no higher than the hem of the Dark Lord's tattered robes as she trailed behind Zaylow.

The words of their Dark Lord sent chills down her spine, while simultaneously intoxicating the delicate thoughts that bounced about in her mind. Darth Vyrdesseus was a force to be reckoned with, his power beyond anything else she had ever felt, not that she had felt much, being so new to it all. He not only walked and talked in a way that demanded respect, the aura of energy that pooled around him seemed to provide a high she could bask in for days. Hair rose on end as he spoke, reminding her to tread with caution, but the warmth that preceded from it kept her allegiance firmly in line with him. Even if she still was new to the ways of the Sith, she simply knew without a shadow of a doubt, she wanted to be on that guy's side and most certainly not his enemy.

It therefore wasn't hard to imagine why she sort of jumped, as if jolted by a slight electric shock when Zaylow's voice flooded her ears. Well, that was bold, and indeed it made her wonder if Zaylow was even listening. They weren't to use the force, at least that's what she thought she heard. Regardless she said nothing to either. Neither had addressed her, and Bustati understood a subtle command when she heard one. Those were to be followed, not questioned, not added to, especially by someone of her status. So she moved along, nearly quiet as there was an ever so soft creak to her mech-leg, a necessity if she ever desired to walk anywhere.

 

[Dakota]

His walk is nothing more than a spectral glide, as his robes reach just long enough for his feet to be concealed. Though he does leave footprints, they are often glossed over in the snow, leaving behind two long trails reminiscent of trademarks in their wake. The walk from the landing sight to the Castle itself only takes the group several minutes, bolstered by the Dark Lord's eagerness to complete his trivial mission and return to Korriban, where he truly belongs. As they approach the monolithic castle doors, he seems to stop in front of them, focusing his energy quietly. The others could sense the aura around his form begin to recede into the core of his being; and, just as soon as he'd stopped, he proceeded again, phasing through the wooden doors as if he were nothing more than a ghost, and this courtyard were his eternal resting place. Moments later, the metal locks gave a distinct creaking noise as Vyrdesseus pushed one open, so the other two may follow. His aura had returned to the way it had been prior to his feet of sorcery, but he was in little hurry to explain it, lest they inquire about it personally.

Once they entered, they were greeted to a gloriously built foyer, empty for the most part, save for the occasional footstep on the upper levels. The staircases that lead up to the other branching areas of the castle, such as the kitchen and dining rooms, guest rooms and offices, lay erected on either side of the entryway. In front of them sat a long hallway that lead to another building, perhaps a separate tower used for communications or watching the sky. He knew that the Governor's office was somewhere on the Third floor. But, why trouble himself with the work? Slaves only learn through hands on experience. He motioned to both of them with his right hand, his voice adopting a more subdued, gravely tone now that they had entered the building. ".......The Governor's office is situated somewhere on the Third floor. It is your job now...to locate it for us. Use the Force, extend your senses outward....it will not lead you astray." His words sounded less like suggestions and more like concrete orders. They were here to do a job, and they wouldn't fail. He wouldn't let them.

 

[Where]

Though the Lord's voice chilled Bustati, Zaylow was quite use to the darkness. As the cloaked Lord spoke Zaylow did as he said and began to reach out into the depths of the castle searching for this Governor and his office. Usually, Zaylow would attempt to persuade a governor such as this to not only align with the sith, but personally align with him. In this case though, the Acolyte and himself were accompanied by a Lord much stronger in the force than Zaylow, he dare not show the slightest bit of disloyalty to the sith around this man.

After a bit of searching Zaylow closed his eyes to focus further. After doing this he quickly located said office, and opened his now glowing red eyes. "The man we're looking for seems to be on the top level of the castle... Behind many doors, and turns... This is going to be a long day..."

 

[ZabrakBustati]

Bustati stood back and watched the exchange between the two and the order that came from Lord Vyrdesseus. A brow subconsciously went up as uncouth thoughts filled her mind regarding Zaylow's response, but her lips tightened and she suppressed any comment. Instead she thought about how to access the Force. It seemed that in the past when she felt anger, undeniable rage, the force came rushing through her quickly taking hold of her, but controlling such power. Well, she truly was a beginner.

Needless to say she closed her eyes, breathed, thought of the pain and suffering that she had incurred over the years, and the wrath that accompanied it was quick to follow. Her vision was filled with crimson and the only thought to traverse her mind was, 'Where is he?' She received a head rush, one that nearly stole her breathe and caused her knees to slightly buckle, when suddenly she felt a darkness creep into her mind and pull her foresight to the forefront. The feeling was incredible. The information she was receiving, hazy and unclear. "Up the winding stairwell of the left tower, down the lengthy hall to the ll- no right..." There was a pause, a hesitation. Three doors were ahead of her, which one? Which door!? Doubt swept through her mind, she wasn't sure, such doubt crushed the Force from within and she was snapped back to her flesh. Her head swimming. A hand with slightly talon-like nails went to brace her head, so as to steady not only her thoughts but her eyes. Dizziness prevailed.

 

[Darth Vyrdesseus]

He could sense their hesitation. A long day, he thought. A long day indeed. Beneath the cloak of shadow that kept his face hidden from the world, eyes of luminescent orange slowly closed, and his senses extended outward, searching for any source of energy; he could feel them, the Governor's guards. They had just finished the first leg of their patrol on the top floor, weapons slung over their backs. It was clear they didn't take their jobs seriously. Who would? The governor of Galidraan held little sway in the grand scheme of things, his system was unimportant and the people were happy. That's all Heads of State aspire to be these days — men and women of little ambition. His quick sweep of the area had proven both of their assumptions correct. The Governor, who had before been standing at the perch on the top floor overlooking the forest below, had grown tired of the view and began walking downstairs once more. The Lord turned to face the two, eyeing the composition of his Zabrak slave with a particularly astute detail. She was young and weak, a mind prepared to be molded.

His other follower, on the other hand, seemed brash and calculating; he could sense the very thoughts running through his mind, the quiver of intent to sway this leader to his side alone, and soon after, the harsh retraction. Lifting his right hand toward Bustati, he channeled his own connection to the Dark Side and imbued her with it, if only to keep her conscious for a short while longer. Failure would not be tolerated. After he finished, Vyrdesseus turned and began to glide ominously toward the right stairwell, toward the Governor's office. He would arrive in four minutes to find the three waiting for him. His gestures were non-verbal, suggesting that they use the Force to cover the sounds of their footsteps. He would be in charge of monitoring the guards. They would look after one another. Or, more succinctly, themselves; while pretending they had the other's back. Such was the way of the Sith, they would learn so sooner or later. The easy way or the hard way.

 

[Where]

Zaylow followed the Darth Vyrdesseus up the stairwell, at first he was confused that no one had heard them, but soon realized their steps were shielded by the force. This dark lord must truly be a master to be able to pull off such a high level of stealth through the force. Zaylow then attempted to try out a new ability he had been practicing, he attempted to speak to the mind of the Darth, and Acolyte by use of telepathy. "So, whats the plan?" he transmitted to them.

 

[ZabrakBustati]

A tingling sensation swept over her, harnessing the pain and lifting it off of her. Bustati had an inkling that such an effect was not exactly from a natural cause, and as her hand slipped away from her head as she appeared to recuperate she noticed Darth Vyrdesseus gaze moving away from her. Indeed she was thankful, but part of her felt embarrassed if not ashamed, and that angered her. Perhaps if her skin was not of the crimson variety, one would notice the darkening rouge of her blush.

She silently followed the two males up the stair way, if one were to search her mind then it could be reasonably concluded that she had no clue Zaylow's plans regarding the Sith empire, which for her sake was probably a blessing, as she was low man on the totem pole. Needless to say such wondering into her inner mind would seem to be interrupted by Zaylow's thoughts with a rather protruding question. This time she didn't suppress it, there was clearly a look of annoyance. First, she didn't care for her thoughts being infiltrated. Second how on earth would she know!? Her glare would indeed pierce the back of Zaylow's skull, and be accompanied by a scowl of distaste.

 

[Darth Vyrdesseus]

The narrow voice inside his skull, he could feel it echo against his ears. As they ensconced themselves within the Governor's office, the cloaked figure slowly turned to face the boy who had so rudely entered his mind. As he looked down upon them, his face shrouded in a morbid blackness typically reserved for the lifeless corpses of the dead, the malignant aura that surrounded his likeness could be felt licking at his brain; it demanded his attention, the Dark Side, and attempted to coax from within visions of the most frightful nature as his own voice wormed it's way into his. ".....How dare you enter my thoughts, slave. It would be wise..." his voice trailed off, and the horrifying vision that he was, in body and soul, the sum of all his sinister thoughts and practices, loomed over the two. "....to remember your place." He was soon cut off, his muscles tightening as his continued use of the Force began draining at his energy. Entering the minds of others, as it seemed, was particularly difficult, even for him. His body was much more accustomed to crude and precise displays of force, manipulating the energy and projecting his own will upon the Dark Side; not arts such as these. But soon after, a familiar clicking noise came from the door behind them.

The key entering the slot.

It turns, and with it, a soft creek.

Enter the Governor of Galidraan, regally dressed in white and gold, accompanied by one of this guards. Strained still after forcing his way into Zaylow's mind, Vyrdesseus pushed forth his hand and the door closed behind them suddenly, locking with a click; and then, with what little strength he had remaining for the time being, called upon the Force to rip the blaster from the guard's hand in a cruel manner, ripping it from his fingers. As he recovered his strength, chanting to himself quietly in an effort to reconnect himself to the Dark Side's embrace, he reached out and handed the blaster to Bustati, so that she may keep the two in place without any of them needing to remove their lightsabers. Trust, as it seems, was not a word many Sith counted as among their vocabulary. Busati could easily shoot everyone in the room and face only minimal resistance for the time being. Vyrdesseus, after all, still had to recover his spiritual strength. But he knew what she already assumed; such a move would be suicide. Besides, it was far better off in her hands than it was in Zaylows.

"........Gentlemen," the sadistic voice rasped to life, foreboding and deep. "...I believe we have business to discuss."

 

[Where]

Zaylow's mind was flooded with darkness as the Darh responded. Zaylow had not meant to pry on his companion's minds, but to simply provide a more efficient way of communication between the group. Eventually, the group made their way to the Governor and his guard. As they did, Vyrdesseus tore a baster from the hands of the guard and gave it to Bustati. Zaylow followed the Master's lead and started to play 'good cop' "Alright, governor this doesn't have to end in violence, we simply wish that you hear us out in this matter..."

 

[ZabrakBustati]

Loyalty was indeed a fickle matter, and as the darkness of the Force became ever more apparent in her day to day life, particularly this day, Bustati was beginning to question what Zaylow was all about, especially as the darkness crept into her thoughts from Lord Vyrdesseus. Had he upset him as well? Before she had time to mentally debate over the matter she had her hands occupied with a blaster. Very well.

She held it firm and well aimed at the guards, though sustained from shooting. Indeed she wasn't dumb enough to go firing it off at anybody. Their was a pecking order among Sith, and she knew quiet well that to gain power she had to respect those who had it, by aiding them in whatever way necessary, until of course something arises in her favor. The game was ever changing. For now though she was 100% with Lord Vyrdesseus, and though she said nothing the way she wielded the weapon given to her said everything.

 

[Darth Vyrdesseus]

As the Governor and his aide began to panic, Vyrdesseus simply motioned toward the regal chair that sat behind the desk, waiting for the man to sit down. He would stand—he preferred doing so anyway—and the chant he undertook as a mere whisper under his breath suddenly ceased. Raising a hand to Zaylow, he motioned for the boy to move closer toward the now disarmed aide and confiscate any communication devices he was carrying. Word of their presence would only mean more resistance. But he would prefer keeping the body count low for now, in hopes of keeping their presence on this distant world concealed. He then turned to the Governor, now seated in his leisure chair. ".....It is clear now that you know of the Sith's presence on your world. I assure you.....we are not here to harm you or your people." His voice, despite the intent behind it, came off rather soothing. "....It is far beyond our best interests to start a war outside of our borders....but we do require your cooperation. You must remain alive....but him," his other hand motioned toward Bustati, as if to suggest to aim at the Governor's aide. "...He is dispensable to me. This world is a valuable one.....under our direction, your Government would thrive...your people put to work in manufacturing. But..." His head turned to look at the aide directly. "...I am always available to negotiate."

 

[Where]

Zaylow stood next to the dark lord has he made his approach. Once the lord motioned for him, he walked closer to the aide and reached into his pockets to find a long distance holocommunicator. Zaylow grind and said to the aide "Communication devices can become such a distraction for friendly meetings, don't you think?" Zaylow then crushed the device with the force and dropped it to the floor.

 

[ZabrakBustati]

Bustati's aim become fixed on the guard Darth Vyrdesseus motioned to though she didn't pull the trigger, no that bit of action still waited on yet another subtle command a single flex of one of his digits. So here she stood calm, weapon aimed, with a straight laced emotionless face to accompany it. She held no sympathy for the soul whose life she may or may not take. After all this was not the first time a Master had asked her to do something that wasn't exactly considered humane, not that the first time had troubled her too much. She was more of a 'Do what you have to to survive,' sort of person anyway.

 

[Darth Vyrdesseus]

The Governor's ego didn't help. Despite the relative un-importance of his world, wealth and influence do dangerous things to a man. They make him feel more necessary than he actually is. Despite the overwhelming threat, he's loud and vitriolic. How dare the Sith break down his doors, threaten his life! He feels as though he's now in the position to negotiate, a position of leverage. He demands that the Sith not only leave his world, but cede concessions to him immediately. Weapons, soldiers, anything he should ask for. In return, he will not notify the Galactic Senate. Typically it is members of the Empire who blackmail, not the other way around. This is gravely irritating. The aide frantically tries to convince his employer to say otherwise. After all, it's his life that's in danger here. But the Governor, despite the bluster and attempts to sway him otherwise, remains resolute.

".....Shame." In his mind, he was secretly giving directions. Zaylow would attempt to influence the Governor's mind on his own through the Force. Bustati, execute the aide as quietly as possible. He would serve only as a nuisance now. If he could not sway his leaders' mind, there was no reason to keep him alive. He had spent this time recovering his power, biding his time. If Zaylow could not succeed, then Vyrdesseus surely would.

 

[Where]

After Zaylow had heard the Dark Lords orders, he began to speak to the governor using force persuade. Zaylow eye's began to glow red assisting him in putting the Governor in a trance. Zaylow then spoke "The senate is out to destroy you, your only hope is to align with us." Zaylow the began to transmit images to the governor, senators were surrounding him with blasters. "Don't you see? The sith are your only hope!"

 

[ZabrakBustati]

Bustati gave a nod. Quietly? Well since it was already out that they were Sith, why not have a bit of an experiment. She recalled the lesson she had received in moving items with the Force by applying a certain amount of metaphysical pressure to the item. Perhaps she could...it was worth a try. She closed her eyes for a moment focusing, meditating, the scars on her back coming to life searing into her flesh once again. The cries of her own anguish ringing in her ears. The hate that rippled through her quivering form after the injustice. Her eyes opened, amber hues a molten pool of hate and rage, glowing prior to the eruption of hate within her. So keeping her blaster trained on the guard she lifted her opposing hand, she let the power build within her grasp before releasing it with a quick flicking movement of her hand, as though waving off a fly. Though it appears she did quite a bit more than flick a fly, she sent a blast of raw Force towards the assistant. Hitting him to such an extent that she Force slapped the assistant to the point that his neck snapped in response to the motion. The energy waves scattered once disrupted by their target and left the air with a bit of a hum. Alright so perhaps it wasn't as quiet as they would have liked.

Her cheeks flushed a bit both from the effort and embarrassment, but she said nothing and kept a stoic expression. She couldn't afford to show weakness, so she settled with telling herself that she did what she set out to do, kill the assistant. From this point she simply held her stance wobbly as it was, Sweat moved down Bustati's brow. Her knee wanted to buckle, but thankfully there was a mechanical leg keeping her elevated. She felt fatigued as thanks to her efforts she was drained, but that blaster still remained aim, and her finger was already settled on the trigger, in regards to the guards.

 

[Darth Vyrdesseus]

Oh, the sweet nourishment. Most beings would have you believe that they are so connected to the Force that they no longer require physical sustenance. Many are wrong. This instance, however, isn't. Beneath his cloak, the Dark Lord's eyes closed quietly as Bustati tapped into her darker urges. The subsequent attack left a rather large impression on the Governor, who now stared at them with wide eyes. He'd known of the existence of the Force before, but he'd never seen it applied, let alone used to kill another human being. As if feeding off of Bustati's hatred, the Sith Lord stood ominously, casting a shadow over the trance-ridden Governor as Zaylow began subtly influencing his mind. As if to add onto the effect, he raised his right hand and stretched it outward, commanding the Dark Side as it flowed from his chest and through the length of his extremities. The Governor's neck tightened as some incomprehensible force began squeezing down upon him, pushing the air from his lungs and choking him.

As he did this, he directed Bustati to begin tracking the movements of the guards. He could feel it, the Governor's mind was on the brink of collapse. Whether by unconscious puppeteering or through forced action, the world would be there's. But they need still be alive to report the news, and a flock of guards would only make their situation messier. After a few moments, he changed his own course of action, releasing his grip on the Governor's neck and opting instead to force his way into the man's mind. Within it, he made this world his playground, generating horrific visions of death and gore, blood splattered across the office, all the while chanting the same word. Submit. Submit. Submit.

"...You shall have no strange gods before me," he chanted, religiously, as the Governor's mind began to slip into catatonia.

 

[Where]

Zaylow grinned and let loose his grip on the governor's mind Darth Vyrdesseus had taken care of that. His eyes stopped glowing and he focused his efforts towards slowing down the guards. He walked over to a nearby window and saw a large tree. "This will make for an excellent distraction..." Zaylow used the force to crush the base of the tree slowly sending it collapsing on top of one of the governor's shuttles. The shuttle outside then exploded, "This will surly get the guard's attention outside." Zaylow thought to himself.