Cedric Grayson
Ashlan Kaiser
He did not need the empyrean's touch to know that they were watching him.
It was a primal sensation: that of a prey animal feeling the eyes of predators on its back. In the past, it might have given him pause, but now it was only expected. They had followed him for months, if not these hunters, than others. It was a feeling he had grown used to, like one might grow used to the sound of starships passing overhead in the heart of a city. It nearly went unnoticed, and were he here for any other reason, would have been the death of him.
Circumstance was a cruel mistress, and he had long since learned not to rebel against her intentions.
The hot afternoon sun of Korriban beat down on his pale flesh as if to punish him for his presence on such unholy ground. This was the seat of the Great Enemy, the origin of his many pains. For centuries, the Sith had risen from this place to strike out against the defenders of the Light, and for centuries they had been pushed back to it, yet they always rose again.
So long as Korriban remained, there would be no end to the galaxy's torment, but that was no longer his concern. Amidst the loss of all that he held dear, only grim purpose kept him moving forward. The means to that final end were irrelevant: only the conclusion mattered.
He did not offer resistance when they came out from the alleyways and the dark places of the city. His hands raised in surrender as crimson blades hissed to life, and rifles were pointed his way. He offered only a bowed head, and a single sentence. "I have come to speak with
Darth Empyrean
."
The exile found himself in a cell somewhere far from the light of the sun. He'd stashed away his weapons and valuables out in the hills before entering the city. If he survived, he would need them in the conflicts to come. The men whom had taken him spoke little, and demanded much the same. Only his obedience was required, and he gave it willingly. They had left him to his own devices within the ray shielded cell, hands bound by cuffs that limited his connection the empyrean. They weren't especially needed given the painful hangover he was currently hosting, but he understood the precaution. The massive bounty the Sith Empire had place don his head remained, and whilst these 'Lords of the Sith' might be in opposition to their former masters, they were not stupid enough to discount the threat he might pose.
He settled down in a corner of the cell, legs folded over one another, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to still the chaos plaguing his thoughts. Either the Sith Lord would come to meet with him, the interrogators would torture him, or he would simply be executed. He privately hoped for the former, but did not fear the latter. He was little more than a walking ghost already; there was nothing more they could take from him.
It was a primal sensation: that of a prey animal feeling the eyes of predators on its back. In the past, it might have given him pause, but now it was only expected. They had followed him for months, if not these hunters, than others. It was a feeling he had grown used to, like one might grow used to the sound of starships passing overhead in the heart of a city. It nearly went unnoticed, and were he here for any other reason, would have been the death of him.
Circumstance was a cruel mistress, and he had long since learned not to rebel against her intentions.
The hot afternoon sun of Korriban beat down on his pale flesh as if to punish him for his presence on such unholy ground. This was the seat of the Great Enemy, the origin of his many pains. For centuries, the Sith had risen from this place to strike out against the defenders of the Light, and for centuries they had been pushed back to it, yet they always rose again.
So long as Korriban remained, there would be no end to the galaxy's torment, but that was no longer his concern. Amidst the loss of all that he held dear, only grim purpose kept him moving forward. The means to that final end were irrelevant: only the conclusion mattered.
He did not offer resistance when they came out from the alleyways and the dark places of the city. His hands raised in surrender as crimson blades hissed to life, and rifles were pointed his way. He offered only a bowed head, and a single sentence. "I have come to speak with
Darth Empyrean
."The exile found himself in a cell somewhere far from the light of the sun. He'd stashed away his weapons and valuables out in the hills before entering the city. If he survived, he would need them in the conflicts to come. The men whom had taken him spoke little, and demanded much the same. Only his obedience was required, and he gave it willingly. They had left him to his own devices within the ray shielded cell, hands bound by cuffs that limited his connection the empyrean. They weren't especially needed given the painful hangover he was currently hosting, but he understood the precaution. The massive bounty the Sith Empire had place don his head remained, and whilst these 'Lords of the Sith' might be in opposition to their former masters, they were not stupid enough to discount the threat he might pose.
He settled down in a corner of the cell, legs folded over one another, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to still the chaos plaguing his thoughts. Either the Sith Lord would come to meet with him, the interrogators would torture him, or he would simply be executed. He privately hoped for the former, but did not fear the latter. He was little more than a walking ghost already; there was nothing more they could take from him.