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A Coup With Friends [ATTN: Sith Empire]

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DROMUND SYSTEM, DROMUND KAAS
KAAS CITY, THE IMPERIAL CITADEL


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@[member="Darth Voracitos"]

It was about damn time. Seriously, how long had people been waiting for this moment? Far too long. Tyrin's coup had been delayed for quite some time now, but the time for waiting, plotting, and worrying about other stuff had finally ended. Sometimes the long pause built dramatic tension and made everything so much more cooler when it actually transpired. This waiting period had transcended the dramatic tension and had now become just really, really annoying. The Umbaran had spent quite some time building up the proper connections in the Imperial military and among the Sith. Then he had to get all of those ducks in a row as well. Some people just weren't ever really ready on time when it came to these things. Oftentimes they simply had more important things to worry about or their time to devote was simply... Limited.

But now Tyrin was done putzing around waiting on them. It was his time to shine. Shine on. Like a crazy diamond.

There were others with him. Some probably wouldn't make an appearance until later, some were following him inside directly, others were probably hiding in the shadows trying to be all mysterious and cool as they watched everything transpire. At the very least they could say they witnessed Tyrin's ascension, but directly participating is what most people would consider more impressive. There would be no outside help in this coup. No Mandalorian mercenaries, no Confederate soldiers, no Fringe Lords... Naught but the Sith themselves. It was better that way. This way he didn't owe any favors and it showed he had the majority of the Sith at his back. At least, as much at his back as he could allow bloodthirsty, self-serving sociopaths without endangering himself.

The doors to the Citadel swung open, courtesy of a friend on the inside. The majority of the Royal Guardsmen who watched the door had been called away, courtesy of another friend on the inside. There were only two there to attempt to impede Tyrin as he approached.

"Gentlemen, nothing personal. Well, maybe a little."

They raised their pikes as if to impede him, but the Umbaran simply raised his hands and seized them both telekinetically through the Force. He smashed them into one another. Once, twice, three times. Bones were broken, but otherwise they were alive when he dropped them to the floor. Best to keep them that way. Good help was hard to come by. Besides, it wasn't as if they would be perturbed enough at that having happened to them to willingly open the doors to an angsty, delusional challenger several months after Tyrin's reign was cemented. That would be absolutely ridiculous.

Leaving the Royal Guardsmen in a crumpled, moaning heap on the floor, Tyrin continued on to his destination: the throne room.
 

Gregor Gideon

Guest
G
Planetary Surface -- Dromund Kaas
Kaas City, The Imperial Citadel

Gregor Gideon, a Sith Knight and ultimately, arguably, the most loyal of @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]'s retinue, strode a few steps behind the impressive Umbaran - the once and future Emperor.

His attention was focused solely on the Royal Guardsman whom became nothing more than rag-dolls, crashed into one another before being discarded as play things often do when they are no longer enjoyable. Or in this case, conscious.

Gregor continued with the soon-to-be Emperor, though he paused at the crumpled, battered bodies of the guardsmen, long enough to lean down and whisper- his words echoing in their psyche, embedded with the Dark Side of the Force so that it would remain chillingly fresh in their minds for perhaps an hour after they finally woke up. A feeling Gregor hoped they would not soon forget.

"Today the Empire is strengthened. You will be thankful, or you will be purged."

With that complete, Gregor immediately began to pick up his pace, to return to his position at Tyrin's heels.
 

Ral Telon

Guest
R
DROMUND SYSTEM, DROMUND KAAS
KAAS CITY, THE IMPERIAL CITADEL



Ral was prepared for Tyrin to make his move against the soon-to-be former emperor of the Sith Empire. As an early precaution, Ral was already stationed within the Citadel. Once @[member="Tyrin Ardik"] disposed of the Royal Guardsmen protecting the door, Ral would drop down from one of the columns and greet Tyrin and his followers. "Welcome to the Imperial Citadel, Master Tyrin. Are you ready?" It became clear that Ral was the one who was able to get him into the throne room as he stood there with his armored chest poked out and claws sharpened to a perfect point.
 
Balaya was here possibly in the stead of her master and lord. The King of Thule may be far to busy but he had sent with her Slaugh the Blackblades.... Plus her his knight and armorer. She turned her gaze to see @[member="Gregor Gideon"] while her mane/curtain of red hair flowed with her black cloak. She still towered over the rest and grabbed one of the people who came near them with her hand squeezing his throat until his face was red then. -CRACK- he was throw at the wall with a small snap of his head slamming into it. The Slaugh were her soldiers set to keep cover but the Blackblades could to much in the meantime to ensure they made it forward. "The Blackblades can lead the way Emperor, Lord Kaine sends his support."

Then with that her face went back to being cold just letting the sound of her cybernetics covered in slabs of muscled pink skin under armored alchemically treated armor clear the path. For the totally stolen Arthurian once and future referenced Emperor.
 
How absolutely intriguing this was. This man sought to take the throne from Voracitos, someone who Lord Depravious saw as already not fit for the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith. Should Darth Voracitos seek to fight the man, Lord Depravious would be able to gauge the mans abilities through that. For fighting wasn't just to see who had the most brute strength, there was a truth that was conveyed within each and every strike you lay upon someone. Who you are as a person was conveyed through your strikes, do you like punishment? Do you want to end it quickly? All of these things are things to look for in the fighting of others, specifically the ones who believe themselves to be better than most. And, for this man to be challenging and staging a coupe-detat for the Emperor of the Sith, he must believe himself to be better than most. Mainly for the specific reason that if anyone of the Sith that followed him saw him as weak, they would immediately dismantle him from the throne he so desperately seemed to want to sit upon..

As Lord Depravious moved past the masses of Sith that walked behind the man, he pushed through some of them. His power grew with each step he took, the force manifesting around him to make his presence known. He flicked his wrist out to the side in order to manifest his presence in the Bogan Side of the force fully, to let it be known he was there.. As he walked his cape slowly slide along the ground as he weaved his way in and out of people to make it to the front of the coup. Perhaps he would be of some element of surprise for @[member="Darth Voracitos"] . He had after all not been around in quite some time, and the last he heard of Darth Voracitos was right before the challenge issued by Lord Depravious before he was pulled away for unexpected reasons. Family took precedence for Lord Depravious and his brother had called upon him to defeat him finally yet, Osamu still could not defeat Lord Depravious..

Lord Depravious stepped over the bodies that lay on the floor below him as he finally caught up to the soon to be expected Dark Lord of the Sith. His presence now, that had been feeding off of the Bogan nexus upon the planet, was feeding the nexus. His presence became so strong in the force as he walked that it echoed through the force to every single force sensitive in the room. So strongly that Darth Voracitos could have easily felt the presence of perhaps the darkest being to walk the galaxy. Let's play, he thought to himself as he took a step to the left of Tyrin, he black cape dragging along the floor still whilst his armor hugged his body closely. With each step he took, the echoes in the force and disturbances began to grow louder and louder.
 
Trailing close behind @Balaya in his usual silent manner was Marcus, not paying any mind in the world to any who came to close to them. He'd simply fling them across the room with the force, and the impact would break most of the bones in their body, simply done. On his belt rested his two sabers, one electric blue bladed, the other crimson, then to top off his equipment were two gauntlets which he had shots mounted on the underside of.

@[member="Ral Telon"] would offer the to be Emperor, @[member="Tyrin Ardik"] his assistance. This was a good thing considering the Knight was going to gut the creature if it hadn't. Still might. He looked to @[member="Gregor Gideon"], an astoundingly loyal Sith Knight to Ardik, and felt jealousy. Neither of his apprentices had been as dedicated, and that powerful, they'd been either or. Hopefully, one day he would find such an apprentice, and forge it into a weapon of Marcus's will.
 
DROMUND SYSTEM, DROMUND KAAS
KAAS CITY, THE THRONE ROOM


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(WARNING! PEOPLE SITTING ON THE THRONE IN THIS PICTURE APPEAR SKINNIER THAN THEY ACTUALLY ARE!)

@[member="Tyrin Ardik"], @[member="Gregor Gideon"], @[member="Ral Telon"], @[member="Balaya"], @[member="Lord Depravious"], @[member="Marcus Faust"]

So it began.

The Corpulent man sat unmoved upon his Throne, surrounded by holographic images all about his Empire, all displayed to him by his many probe droids. There was one though, in particular that he observed most intently, a swirling spherical thing that almost dwarfed a star destroyer present near it within the image. A heavy sigh escape the Dark Lords mouth. He felt a plethora of dark presences unfamiliar to his home away from Korriban, and away from his Manor on Lorrd. This was interesting to him, and in a way frightening. With so many Sith present, it meant they had a charismatic leader, but with so many Sith present, he had no way of pinning down who that leader was. A small predicament really, but Voracitos had fallen ill to the crucial weakness of paranoia. Whispers all around him. The Shadow Lord consulted his shades wordlessly, thoughtlessly. He took a hefty hand from his face, and waved off many of the probes. The holoprojection of his latest project though still lingered in the air, as if permanently etched by the will of his mind.

He awaited this 'coup' in stolid anticipation. There was no way the time was now, the dark side must be deceiving him, but still he was filled with dread. For as long as this Empire has existed all have been slaves to his will, how could the Empire exist without him? It was a thought that constantly nagged at him with every waking moment. Thus it was his decision that the Empire simply would not exist without him. Already, many worlds were in grave danger, and thus the perfect opportunity for the Mandalorians to pierce through the heart of the Empire, as he had promised Mia Monroe when she was Mandalore. However, the process he had developed that would ultimately lead to the collapse of the Sith Empire, was not yet completed. Whatever awaited outside might be a minor distraction... or a major set back. He didn't know, but he feared the worst.

Also unfinished, was the construction of his Superweapon. It irked him that the blasted thing was devoid of any weaponry thus far, only the super structure being officially finished, and its massive cargo prepared for launch. It would be a challenge like no other of course to destroy, but it lacked the ability to return the bite of its enemies. He felt weakened slightly though, as if this sack of meat was not his own body, the farther away from himself it went. In the center of the massive battle station, he knew where his heart lay. Soon they would be together... he would make sure by every extension of his will that this "distraction" raving to kill him would be stopped here and now, so that his vision may never come to fruition.

He tried to remind himself that many visions procured from the darkside were deceitful, as he had chided a petulant Witch of when he first taken the Throne. His hands gripped the Throne tightly, its usual electronic hum now dead, as it rested upon his Personal Thrones docking platform within the many pillared room, atop a pyramid of steps... all of which he has never stepped foot upon, but simultaneously treads upon everyday. His face was sickly pale, his eyes blazing yellow with hateful defiance, his metaphorical stomach was starving... the last eleven Sith Lords weren't very appetizing. Perhaps these dissenters would be more filling. He awaited their inevitable arrival, while his various slaves cowered in the dark, behind pillars shrouded by darkness. No place was safe for them, but at least they would have the security that their deaths would not be witnessed should they come. They cowered though not this time from the Emperor, or his challengers, but due to ...

...a new Breed...

The thought almost brought the Emperor a smile, but it never surfaced. He watched the doubles doors, awaiting their opening before him, to illuminate the state of the Sith's Shadow Emperor.
 
The Imperial Citadel, Kaas City

Supposedly the event which had gathered the congregation of Imperials under the direction of one Tyrin Ardik had taken quite some time to plan and to bring about. Apparently this was an event of paramount importance for the future of the Sith Empire. However...the Mandalorian walking in stride along with the procession found it hard to fully care about the politics of the situation. He, known by his newly-crafted alias Dar'jetii, had fallen in with the current enemy of his people in order to bring about the fulfillment of a number of personal goals. First and foremost, he desired, as all warriors of his kind did, to fully utilize the potential found within him; which included the Force Sensitivity that was uncovered in recent months. Second, as per the...rather convincing...pitch uttered by one Gregor Gideon, this was an opportunity afforded to Dar'jetti to do some good on the part of his people.

How so? Well, a Mandalorian would contribute to the toppling of the reigning Emperor; and supposedly bring about a working relationship between the Sith and the natives of Mandalore. Now, Dar'jetii was many things...but a fool he was not. He knew that the probability of this act securing forgiveness on the part of his people and ushering in an era of cooperation that mirrored that of history was slim to none. He knew, full-well, that the Invasion of Mandalore, coupled with the recent years of aggression, would be a mountain that one battle would not supercede; but he was going to try anyway. Besides that...the home that he once knew was no longer his home. The man he had idolized as a son would a father, Mandalore the Rebuilder, was dead and his title had been passed down numerous times over the course of Dar'jetii's incarceration.

So why exactly was he here? The facts were there, and his justification...was convoluted. However, those he walked along with promised change on the part of the Empire; a change he could easily contribute to and help shape in the image he desired. This was a chance that falling in with his own kind would not provide, as not a single Mandalorian save he was present for this "momentous occassion". So, it all boiled down to a single thing. His purpose of agreeing to assist the Empire, his reason for essentially turning his back on his people, and ultimately the reason why he was walking alongside his "Master", Gregor.

Ambition.

With minimal interest, Dar'jetii watched as the procession grew in number and as the meager opposition was promptly dealt with. He didn't bother reaching for the holster upon his waist in order to produce his pair of Verpine Shatter Guns in order to deal with the "problem". After all, he was flanked on all sides by Sith and Imperials, if they couldn't handle a few guards, then what the feth was he doing there? Ultimately, the voyage along the corridor would end before a pair of towering doors, at which point Dar'jetii would look to his "Master" and address him.

"I want the glory of making him bleed." was his simple remark; the tone marred by the helmet he donned, resulting in a metallic edge.

@[member="Gregor Gideon"], @[member="Tyrin Ardik"], @[member="Darth Voracitos"].
 

Other Space Kaiden

Better than other-other space Kaiden
So the time had finally arrived had it? Well that was a relief, the Graug was starting to grow weary of the constant postponing of the coup. Normally he could care less how the Sith fought amongst themselves as long as it was no threat to his power, but this was different. The fat one was strong in his convictions, but with someone new attempting to take his place it gave Krag an invaluable opportunity to establish a Graug presence on Dramund Kaas. He had pledged a large number of Graug forces to the efforts of Tyrin, for the most part his forces would work to secure a perimeter around the citadel as the fat one was brought to his knees. Some of them would be accompany Krag into the citadel with Tyrin while others put down any soldiers or Sith who were known to be loyal to the current Emperor.

The massive Graug waited in his seat as the legions of Graug transport vessels descended to the surface of the Sith planet like a storm of Meteorites crashing through the atmosphere. Lucky for the planet below, this was not an average Graug invasion that was meant to burn, pillage and destroy everything on the surface. The soldiers under Krag knew why they were here and they would confine their rage to those who deserved it and nothing more, unless they wanted to be publicly executed by their massive General. From the ground the red hot hulls of the quickly descending dropships littered the sky like the brimstones of hell were raining down upon the Sith, the Graug were all about high yield and low drag. The Graug within the ships were getting themselves riled up but repeatedly striking one another in the shoulder, snarling and pounding their boots and weapons against the steel floors of the shuttles. The Graug had yet to expand outside of their own system and though this was no expansive invasion, the soldiers found it just as exhilarating.

Within a few moments, Krag's shuttle touched down and the doors shot open. The Graug General stormed out, his eyes studying the surrounding swamps and buildings of Dramun Kaas. In the skies the rest of the Graug invested shuttles were nearing their locations and on the ground, all around Krag, other shuttles were unloading their squads of Graug soldiers. Krag smiled as the soldiers took up positions around the Sith Citadel, their grotesque smell distinguishable even over the already swampy smells of the planet. In the distance a large crate, usually used for delivering walkers planet side, crashed to the ground and from it stormed a large beast from the dense jungles of Gratos, a Glycon fully armored and prepared for battle. The massive Rancor-like beast roared, it's voice shaking the foundations of nearby buildings and piercing the eardrums of those nearby.
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One thing was for sure now, if anyone was still willing to die for the fat after seeing that beast, they would not live long enough to make a difference. Krag never specified how many troops he would bring along with him to the planet, but now that they were here he intended to keep them here under this new regime that would soon come about the Sith. With the perimeter established and the rest of the forces moving to crush any hopes of retaliating against Tyrin after he had assumed the mantel of Emperor, Krag swiftly moved to join the rest of the Sith on their march to the throne room. He was a tad late and Tyrin was already strutting the halls of the Citadel with his all-star entourage like he already owned the place.

"I arrive!" Krag called to Tyrin as he stormed his way up with the rest of the group

@Gregor Gideon, @Tyrin Ardik, @Darth Voracitos @[member="Dar'jetii"]
 
"Interesting, isn't it?" Seemingly out of thin air, Circe appeared next to @[member="Balaya"], looking the secret cyborg over. "Mmm... not my first choice of a body shape. You could've done so much better with biofibers instead of straight augmentation, but oh well..." Stepping next to the scantily-clad Zeltron, she smiled. "Kaine sent me as part of this too. No worries. Now, shall we?"

This coup was going to be epic.
 
His allies and soon-to-be-subordinates turned up quickly. Ral had indeed been the one to open things up for him, and he was grateful to have the Shistavanen officer at his disposal. Gregor and Balaya followed him in, one pausing to to whisper something to the duo of broken Royal Guards and the other announcing the full support of Lord Kaine and the Blackblade Legion. Exquisite. Gregor's apprentice, some kind of Mandalorian, was present as well. Tyrin recognized Marcus Faust a little ways off from Balaya. Also over by Balaya was Pandeima, who was ogling the scantily clad Blackblade warrior in typical Circean fashion. Oh, the allies he called upon in such trying, tumultuous times.

Then something outside roared, and he knew by that Krag was someplace nearby. The Graug Sith Knight revealed himself in the chambers soon enough. Tyrin thought he heard transports outside landing. Had Krag brought an army? A tad bit overkill, but they'd be fun to have around in case some other Sith got angsty at Tyrin's impending ascension. Closer by was a man he did not recognize, positively radiating Dark Side energy. Tyrin would have to watch that fellow closely. It wasn't good practice to not be acquainted with arguably the most powerful one out of this bunch. Unfortunately, now was not the time for making friends and meeting people. Now was the time for regicide and other such hobbies.

"Dear friends, I'm pleased you could all arrive. Let's make some history. Captain Telon," Tyrin raised his hands for a second time, grasping the heavy durasteel doors that barred his entrance into the throne room with the sheer power of the force. On normal occasions, opening these doors was the duty of a squad of Royal Guardsmen. However, two were currently broken and battered, the others were indisposed with a false flag. Tyrin would do it himself this time around. "I dare say I was born ready."

The durasteel doors heaved themselves open, and as soon as there was enough space, the Umbaran Emperor-aspirant entered. Slaves were cowering about, as to be expected of slaves when caught in the midst of a coup. They would be freed and introduced into the real, productive workforce later. Right now he needed to have a good chat with the incumbent Emperor. Tyrin stopped at the foot of the stairs leading up to the colossal throne and Emperor before calling up.

"Alright there, V. I need to have a few words with you. Important stuff, mostly centered around your resignation. Do you have a minute?"

It was stuffy in here. When was the last time those doors had been opened? Whatever. They were open now, and that was what counted.
 
With each of the new-comers, Lord Depravious took note of their movements. He understood that if they wished to descend upon him, being one of the more powerful Sith here thus he stood as a threat to the possible new emperor, they would. Fear, however, was not an emotion that was facilitated when Depravious thought of that moment. Only, rather the opposite, clarity began to wash over him. His skin began to feel lighter, the air around him although now quite heavy because of his overwhelming presence in the force no doubt weighing those around him down felt quite light, his senses were heightened and he was ready. He studied each and every move that the group made. Picking apart their weaknesses should they attack him, he feared no Sith there, and in combat respected them all individually; however, He knew that the only sith there that stood a challenge to him was perhaps the possible new Sith Emperor himself.None

None of this, however, mattered to Lord Depravious. He was not there to strike down the man that would strike down Voracitos. He had a personal grudge against the man, he believed that under Voracitos's reign the Sith would crumble, he saw the man as weak, dishonorable, and disgusting. Depravious had no intent of taking the Mantle from the man at this moment, merely to test him. Was he at all ready to take the title of Sith Emperor and lead people whom Lord Depravious revered as his new brothers and sisters, people who he would fight and die for, even if they wouldn't do the same for him. Moreover, Lord Depravious also understood that if the man was struck down by Darth Voracitos, he was to be the first in line to strike down Voracitos. Perhaps not even for his title at that point, merely to end the mans life because of how much Depravious viewed Voracitos as a hindrance to the Empire. It disgusted him how he ate his fellow Sith Lords, something that Depravious if he could would end today if the man before him did not.

As they approached the doors, Depravious merely sat back in silence waiting.. What would the man do to introduce himself to Voracitos. Surely Voracitos knew what was waiting just beyond the door. The overwhelming force presence of Lord Depravious stood outside the doors, perhaps the darkest being to walk the galaxy, along with the other Sith Master and several other sith that had all come to watch the fat man fall. That was a sight to behold, Lord Depravious had waited so long to watch the man fall from his chair, a task that would be easy for no man. The amount of weight that Darth Voracitos held was astonishing, it would take everything Tyrin had surely to remove the man from his throne.

Nevertheless, the matter at hand was pressing. The fat man surely had some form of escape or back-up plan should this happen.. He was dishonorable, but Lord Depravious did not peg him for an idiot. There was surely a back-up plan, so it was time to as people say ready the troops.. And because of that, Lord Depravious rose his axe into the air, a weapon that had been forged in the flames of his ancestors hatred, the blood of his ancestors lay upon this axe, and whilst he held this axe many had fallen before him. "Pandryl Shorlysis" was carved into the blade of the Axe, a sign of power among the elder Empire that he had come from. As his arm raised, his voice danced through the air like trumpets from his chest had emitted the sound, "No-one is born the King!" A quote that held true for both competitors of the mantle. Voracitos was not born a king, he had to prove himself to the Sith Empire, and yet he had done nothing in Depravious's eyes to prove himself worthy of leading his brothers and sisters. And the same held true for Tyrin, to truly lead the Empire he would have to prove himself to not only Depravious but all the Sith who backed him now..
 

Ral Telon

Guest
R
Ral had nodded with a sinister grin on his maw. His mind and body was filled with bloodlust and hunger and pitting those two together within such a conduit of hatred was always a good combination in a situation like this. Ral had prepared for this day ever since first meeting Lord Tyrin and with Lord Kaine's training he would be of great use to the soon-to-be Emperor. Ral kept a close eye on Tyrin's followers just in case one would betray Tyrin's trust. It was almost predictable that a Sith would betray it's master sooner or later considering it's been done so many times before but he was laid back in a sense because they all shared the same objective.
 
@Tyrin Ardik, @Gregor Gideon, @Ral Telon, @Balaya, @Lord Depravious, @Marcus Faust, @[member="Dar'jetii"], @[member="Krag"], @[member="Pandeima"], @[member="Ral Telon"]

The Corpulent Dark Lord barely moved for a solid 15 seconds before he registered that anyone had even spoken up at all. His eyes lazily blink. His head craned slightly to look Tyrin more in the eye, and slightly twitch to look towards Lord Depravious. There were others about, but they were of little significance. The holographic orb stayed before him, the silent probe still on stand by, awaiting its command to return to its hearth. The slaves remained were they are, silent, motionless, dead-in-all-but-their-statue-esque-fear-frozen-bodies. The dread the Emperor had felt?

Vanished. Gone. No longer in existence.

His stolid face changed a bit, he closed his eyes, and a glimmer of smirk appeared... before suddenly transforming into a gigantic echoing bellow, if a bellow could cackle. It was a short little thing, not lasting for more than 10 seconds at the most, but the shear power that emanated from simple joy resonated off of the walls continuously. This 'coup' left him relieved... oh so relieved. It was like a silly a little pun he used to make as a child to degrade the self confidence of his equally childish peers, or an insult thrown at him or his peers that Disciple often made when he decided to appear to him. He still wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't merely an annoying figment of his imagination.

"Resignation?" He chuckled a bit more, a hand on his vast stomach. "I'm not Moridin you twit!" He said with more joy than insult, he sighed deeply with a wide smile once again present on his grotesque face.

"You've no idea the joy you have brought me. I was worried sick you would be something more well... noteworthy." He glanced over to Depravious. "Ha! You! I remember you! So quick to challenge but yet so quick to leave! I will have you know you made that quite enjoyable... probably did wonders to my ego." He joked a bit more. The whole thing seemed like a joke to him didn't? He returned his gaze towards the aspirant-'Emperor'. He 'tsk'-ed him as he would if he were chiding a child caught doing something he shouldn't. "...and you. This was all you could muster? So fed up with my consolidation of power you can't seem to retain any members of true note-worth? An unknown business man, an uncommitted warrior, and a pack of amateurs. Maybe if you are combined together you could make a fine feast... after all, I've been starving myself lately to have the strength to fight my vision. If you are what it depicts, I need not have wasted such an endeavor more worthily spent on luxury." He couldn't stop seeing the crowd as a circus... the circus he always saw in the Sith Order.

"I think however, that is enough talk. I'm famished! However, I do not believe you have learned you're manners yet! Well let me introduce you to them..." A darker smile procured an image of incredible scrutiny upon his over-large face, he began to steeple his hands in anticipation for the grand show. From the shadows, from the darkness behind the eyes as one blinks, 21 figures appeared, from the darkness that was the souls of all those in the room, 21 figures brought the room to midnight, from the dead that was the crowd of slaves, 21 reapers came to take their souls and more directly to hell.

"Shall I sample each one of you at the same time, or shall I chew off your heads one by one?" He asked, as the Ethereal Slaves hoisted their Sith Swords before them, awaiting conformation.

Magnificence.

Simply....

Bliss.
 
@[member="Darth Voracitos"]

"Oh, come on, V. It doesn't have to be this way!" Tyrin extended his arms, standing where he was at the bottom of the stairs, as if he were prepared to give the Emperor a nice hug. "I mean, you don't have to be Moridin to resign. You're neglecting your duties, is all. We've got to get this nation back on track. Too much stagnation. Plus you backed that idiot Excon's failed coup. You're losing your touch, buddy."

There came a number of strange looking folks from the shadows, whom Tyrin had to turn to look at from his present position. They were all identical and lacked readily distinguishing features. From that, Tyrin deduced that they couldn't be that important. In the long run, anyway. Just as he thought they would be more preoccupied with his subordinates, two descended from the staircase to seemingly deal with him. Fine then. They could probably be handled without that many casualties. Tyrin folded his arms, looking back towards the Emperor. "Man, you are really rocking the extended meal metaphors right now. But, come on, don't trash my friends here. After all, where are the Sith who support you, V? Are there any? Where's your Dark Council? The one's that didn't run away, vanish, or defect. Is the Inquisition still a thing? No, no, you had me fire their boss. If all you got are these dark-looking schmucks, you're in for a tough time."

There was a snap and then a hiss as Tyrin's lightsaber found its way into his hand and was ignited, the crimson blade ready to find its way into an Ethereal Slave's gut. He held it at the ready, a fake Soresu stance to mislead them should they happen to be familiar with it. "Alright, you're still flying high, can't be reasoned with right now. Let's see if I can't change your tune."
 
@[member="Tyrin Ardik"]

"You can no more change my tune, as you say, then you could alter the constellations in the sky! I've ruled this Empire since the beginning, a story you've already heard. Only now I have given you a gift! I have stopped yourselves from driving your Empire into the ground, as Ashin undoubtedly would have done had I not fired her; and I need no sith to support me, there is a reason why I have left them to dissolve." He watched still smirking as he activated his lightsaber.

"You say stagnation..." He spread his hands wide. "I say consolidation. Have you any idea what I have in store for the Empire? The deals I have made around the galaxy? The commerce that I have initiated that no Emperor has before me? The things that I have devised, what my scientists have concocted... Donanyd will soon be forgotten in their wakes." He countered to him.

"But you have failed to answer my question, my slaves have two direct motives... kill you all at once or kill you all one after the other. So which is it? A glorious clash of Gods that shall be over as quickly as it started, or shall you die first as a martyr to your 'supporters'?" He asked one more time. The twenty one formed a wall between Tryin and his supports, while the aspiring Emperor looked to the former, prepared to kill the two shades before him.

He urged him to skewer it, he willed it. He wanted it, to see the black sustenance gush ever so slightly from the torso of his slave. He wanted to watch in amusement the struggles of his hounds prey, as they helplessly attempt to slay his gods. Just once was all he need to be satisfied, just once before the new Emperor realized just how very dangerous these 'faceless mooks' truly were. He waited his first move.
 

Other Space Kaiden

Better than other-other space Kaiden
Krag eyed each of the menacing figures, who stood 7 inches below the massive Graug. They were an interesting group of opponents, they each wielded blades and their armor was as dark as the heart of evil. The aura that surrounded each individual was dark, ominous and it reminded Krag of the dark presences felt on his homeworld of Gratos. As the fat one and the new one continued to argue over who had the bigger lightsaber, Krag drew his own blade and ignited the blade of flames that shot furiously from the hilt.

"You all die here!" The beast growled in rage as he summoned up flames from his lightsaber and flung the wave of flames horizontally over the group of dark figures who had emerged from the shadows to block the path to Tyrin.

@[member="Darth Voracitos"] @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]
 
Lord Depravious sat there as the man mocked him.. All the while his Aura flared around the room, as he looked slowly to each of these reapers as Voracitos called them. His cloak nestled along his face and along his back as he contemplated for a mere moment.. This fat weakling dared to challenge him? He had beaten people with there arms to death before, he had conquered entire worlds only to turn them into ice after removing their very core. He had cut down Sith Lords by the tens before in mere moments, and this man wished to insult him? Insult his honor? Say he had no glory to be gained anymore? What an imbecile, he had no idea the power that he would invoke upon this soon to be sacred battle ground. If Voracitos was not careful, there would be no glory for Tyrin to have, because Lord Depravious would take it out of rage and honor.

He slowly blinked his eyes, in this moment of clarity the air was thick and clear. As he breathed through his nose, and then out through his mouth the essence of cold slowly kissed his skin along his lips. With the slow blink of his eyes the force manifested around his body in the art of a force speed. And in the blink of an eye, his axe came up to Lord Voracitoses multiple rolls on his neck. As Lord Depravious's capes rolled around his body from the sheer speed of what just happened, and the wind slowly began to come up around Voracitos's body Lord Depravious spoke his words eminating from his mouth in a low raspy voice, "If you want to challenge me, you dishonorable mutt, I will gladly accept your challenge.. You have no idea the powers you have invoked by provoking me. Before all you had to deal with was this new usurper, now you must deal with me.. A far greater opponent then you have ever had to suffer in the past." Lord Depravious spoke with a ragefull undertone that struck fear in even the most powerful of Sith Lords.

All the while, he continued to manifest a dark energy around his body through the bogan side of the force, his presence was practically terrifying in the echoes of the force. The Ebb of the force circulated around him, he cared not for the possible descent of the "reapers" around him. He would strike them down all in time, but first he was to shred this man bit-by-bit. His armor slowly clacked as he tightened his grip on the axe, the armor shone in the light. He slowly closed his eyes once more, flashing back to that moment he finally struck down his master. The vision appeared in his mind under a red hew, where Lord Scurge stood before him, both blades were out. "You've trained so many students Lord Scurge, it has been your weakness.. You were never able to connect with any of us and thus you could not see this coming.. You've betrayed your true brothers." The young Depravious spoke to his former master in the vision. "Shaidin, the thing you don't understand is that there are thousands of sheep out there, but there is one among them that is and always will be a lion, and that is you."

Lord Depravious quickly snapped out of his vision, his eyes now full of rage. Where-as they usually were quite calmed and collected the man now fed off of the eons of rage and sadness that lived in him.. His muscles slowly began to grow as the force coursed through his veins. The very aura around him seemed to physically manifest, the wind seemed to pick up in a room that had hardly ever had wind. The powers that Lord Axurion spoke about were very real, and were now being manifested in the very place that he stood. He was now about to unleash his full and complete power, all for this honor less and tasteless man.. "Draw your weapon Darth Voracitos, I will not strike down an unarmed man, to do so is dishonorable." No matter the mans obvious form of deception about to come out, Lord Depravious would always be able to power through forms of shadowy trickery that held no true form of power.

@[member="Darth Voracitos"] @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]
 

Ral Telon

Guest
R
Captain Telon had already prepared himself for any combat situation that the Emperor had. These ethereal slaves he has yet to have seen before but, like all others before him, were just dinner in his eyes. "He talks of us as food when it will be MY jaws feasting upon HIS flesh." Ral's claw gauntlets were sharp and serrated, made perfectly for rending and tearing his opponents. He stood there in a ready position with his maw dripping with saliva for when the Ethereals had made their moves against the group.
 

Gregor Gideon

Guest
G
Gregor Gideon's lips began to curl into a frown, before his expression drove well into a snarl. The soon-to-be former Emperor had slighted Gregor, deeming the Sith Knight nothing more than an unknown amateur.

The Sith Knight was prepared to help make the obese-man-creature pay for those words, and in a very special way.

"Take heed, for no creature born of the Dark Side is as fearsome as the Dark Side itself." He spoke, directed to his apprentice, @[member="Dar'jetii"]. Gregor's eyes darted across the vast throne room, before settling onto the forming barrier of Dark Side creatures blocking @[member="Tyrin Ardik"]'s retinue of Sith from their master.

There were plenty of Sith, soldiers, and others, whom would be meeting directly in combat to assist in this Coup d'état... But Gregor need not be one of them. Instead, he knelt down - and was passed by many of the group as they continued forward.

His eye-lids closed tightly, but his eyes began to dart around yet again. Sight unseen, he took in all he could. Movements of enemy and ally alike, the continuing debate between past-and-future Emperor, everything relevant or not. He concentrated first and foremost upon the growing sea of Dark Side energies emanating, mustering his growing abilities within the realm of Sith Battle Coordination, and directing them upon Tyrin foremost, though he attempted to expand his battle meditation to imbue all his allies with some measure of heightened prowess, once the fighting kicked off. Which it undoubtedly would.
 
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