An Invitation from the Emperor (Tirdarius)

[Akio Kahoshi]

Leading an ever growing Empire took much of Akio's time, but on occasion he found the need to free up time for unexpected occurrences. One such was the news from his Grand Inquisitor that a powerful asset had joined the ranks of the Inquisition. One powerful enough that he had been invited to join rather than simply being given a choice between service to Atrisia and death.

This was of considerable interest to the Emperor. Protecting his country was his highest duty, and while he trusted the judgement of his Grand Inquisitor completely in such matters, he needed to meet this man himself. To see what kind of individual could impress one of his most trusted subordinates.

So an invitation had been sent. The Shadow Master had been summoned to the Imperial Palace, and a group of Imperial Guards waited to escort him to a room reserved for very private meetings. Aside from a handful of Inquisitors involved, no one was to know of this meeting lest suspicion that there was more to the guest than meets the eye arose. The Imperial Guards' discretion was unquestionable.

The room waiting for the Shadow Master was small by the standards of an Emperor, but still of decent size. A desk resided along one wall, with the Emperor sitting behind it. Two comfortable looking chairs sat on the other side of the chair, but there was nothing else visible. This was not a room for impressing guests, it was for getting business done.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

@[member="Akio Kahoshi"]

Although there was little doubt that a man was required to trust his bodyguards, among the Sith, that had always been a foolish notion. One's death often came from the most unsuspecting of directions, and more often than not, it came from those closest to you, those whom you felt you could trust. Thus, to rely on subordinates to protect you was considered both a sign of weakness and an invitation to one's enemies. A payment or promise of power is often enough to turn a loyal hand against it's master. It was a well-known fact: death rarely ever came at the hands of a stranger or an outsider.

With that in mind, the guards assigned to escort Tirdarius to the Emperor would find themselves waiting, far longer than they might expect. He did not require them, nor would he use their services.

The beauty of the Atrisian way of life was that Force Users were highly distrusted and thus had their presence known only to a privileged few: those members of the Inquisition blessed with such a gift and a few chosen within the Imperial hierarchy, including the Emperor himself. That distrust bred complacency, of a sorts: the Atrisians were not expected to understand nor anticipate the depth of capabilities that might be levelled against them by a trained mind. How could mere guardsmen be expected to cope with the unknown?

Plucking the Emperor's location from the minds of the closest had been simplicity itself. The mind was not a book to be read, but a screen onto which thoughts might be projected. A disciplined mind might control the stream of thoughts, but when one's intentions were locked in, it was a simple matter to discern them. After all, were the guards not waiting to take him to the Emperor? It was foremost in their thoughts, so to pluck it from their minds was a thing of casual ease.

Remaining unseen was similarly simple: Tirdarius had been practised in such arts since he was a boy, and the older former Sith Lord had far more years behind him now than he had then. The guards had remained patiently, waiting, while he had walked past them with barely a backwards glance. To find the Emperor...simpler still. The Inquisitor had his location and found it quickly enough, homing in on the sense of the other man through the Force, not a vortex of power in the way that other Emperors of Tirdarius' experience had been, but still the centre of his environment, the authority guiding his domain.

The door slid aside smoothly at his approach, a gesture from his hand sufficient to unlock and manipulate it's control mechanisms, a simple enough matter for someone experienced in such matters. It opened to reveal nothing but the empty corridor beyond, not a sound or motion beyond that of the door suggesting that anything untoward was present. A short moment of hesitation and the gentle light within the room shimmered slightly, then coalesced into something solid, appearing before the Emperor's desk and standing there as though he had been there all along.

A simple backwards glance and a short jerk of a hand and the door slid back into place, locking itself with a soft click, leaving the two of them alone. Although he no longer wore the accoutrements of the Sith, Tirdarius himself still preferred black and had attired himself accordingly. Black boots, trousers and long-sleeved tunic, the tight collar fastened at the neck with a slender silver clasp. A black belt adorned his waist, a silvery-metallic cylinder easily recognisable as a lightsaber hanging from it on the right side.

"The fewer people that know of my presence here, the safer we are," the tall man remarked with surprisingly softness, his voice carrying the gentle urbane tones of one accustomed to life in the civilised Core worlds, though the truth was far from that. "Your escort was appreciated but unnecessary. I've spent much of my life getting into places without others being aware of it. I trust you'll forgive the manner of my arrival, but it's better that you and I meet without lesser minds intruding."

A pale, slender hand grasped at the back of one of the seats before the Emperor and slid it smoothly out from beneath the desk. Sitting down upon it without invitation or preamble, Tirdarius stared calmly at this man he had heard of only by word of the other Inquisitors, and naturally from the reputation spread among the ignorant populace. Still...this meeting was an opportunity for both to weigh up the other, to learn something about the other and gain a little understanding in the process.

"So, you wished to see me, my Lord Emperor?", he asked, raising a dark eyebrow inquisitively. "How may I be of service?"

 

[Akio Kahoshi]

If @[member="Tirdarius"] thought the Atrisian dislike made them complacent, he would not be entirely inaccurate. However that complacency ended at the government. Akio took preparation against Force users seriously, and having the Inquisition backing him made preparing for such eventualities a lot easier. They knew how other force users thought, acted, and what they were capable of.

Which was why the armor of his Imperial Guard contained Phrik, and why mental testing was just as great a factor in their selection as their physical abilities and loyalty. That was another place where the barbaric beliefs of the Sith Empire differed from the refined and cultured Galactic Empire that was at the core of the Atrisian Empire. Akio lead not because he was the strongest, but because he had the authority to rule. The exceptionally loyal Imperial Guards were a sign of that, as well as a guard against Force user assassinations.

But as the Shadow Master entered the room, blue eyes studied him. If the man thought they were alone he would be mistaken, Akio no longer had the luxury of ever being truly alone. To him the closest he got was the guards not being visibly present. Such as was the case today. The twenty-five men that made up the Imperial Guard would die before revealing their Emperor's secrets, and the room's shielding would prevent anyone else from learning what transpired inside.

"It is wise to respect even those you might think to be 'lesser minds,'" he said conversationally. "I have found those very same people tend to come up with methods we would not expect simply because we 'know' it would never work. I have watched many fall into that trap, and then suffer defeat when the supposedly impossible gambit works."

Then the Emperor made a dismissive gesture, indicating he was dismissing his line of thinking to return to more important matters. "However those are discussions for another day. Today I am interested in you. My Grand Inquisitor highly recommends you, so I must admit to being curious."

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

@[member="Akio Kahoshi"]

Tirdarius always found it vaguely amusing when those lacking a touch of the Force came to the defense of their brothers and sisters, urging those with abilities beyond them never to underestimate those without. As if we need reminding of it, he thought calmly. The Sith had their fair share of experience: the Mandalorians, in particular, had demonstrated the lethality of non-Force Users, as had the armies controlled by the Sith Lords themselves. He never aimed to underestimate others where possible, but that wasn't to say he wouldn't take opportunity to exploit any weaknesses he might find if it served him to do so.

Still, this wasn't the moment for a debate regarding such matters, and Tirdarius frankly doubted that it would end up being a particularly enjoyable one anyway. The tenacity and resourcefulness of non-Force Sensitives was absurdly obvious, and he saw little cause to argue the matter. That would simply be a waste of their valuable time.

"Curiousity is a dangerous quality more often than not," the former Sith Lord replied, not stirring in the slightest, sitting in his chair with a straight posture, his grey eyes barely moving as he stared at the Emperor. "Very few think it wise to pry into the affairs or nature of one who could, by definition, be both violent and volatile, prone to sudden outbursts of lethality that make them temperamental allies at best."

A faint smile curved his lips as he considered this. It was true that many among the upper ranks of the Sith were absurdly volatile: he'd known men to be killed by them merely for looking at them in a manner they considered disrespectful. It was the dark path to power, or so many believed: to rule, one had to be either loved or feared, and love was considered too capricious an emotional motivator to be relied on. Better to hold suspicion of all, grasp tightly at the reins of power and crush any who might challenge that authority. It was, in truth, utterly nonsensical. Many among the Sith had failed to recognise this, and occasionally, one would pay the price for that ignorance.

Atrisia was different, ruled in a far less ruthless manner, the centre controlled by an efficient bureaucracy under the command of the Emperor. The presence of Force Users was tolerated only to a point, and only insofar as they were controlled, in secret, by the Inquisition. Not entirely to his tastes as a Force User himself, but it was frankly better than the anarchy which reigned supreme in Sith space.

"Fortunately I outgrew my volatility by the age of 12," Tirdarius remarked, his faint smile growing just a little. "The Jedi helped me with that: they tolerate little in the way of emotional shortcomings. Naturally the Sith would have reversed that had my Master not been a little more unorthodox, but they always were more foolish than they would have you believe," he added with a shrug, inwardly sighing at the inevitable arrogance that often came with power. "Suffice it to say, I will not fly off the handle and move into a homicidal rage simply because you ask a question. Best that we clear that up right away, don't you think?"