Cold hands gripped the lacquered wood, dinged and dented, as an idle mind led to idle action. Foot steps shifted soundlessly against metal grates, scuffed but formerly painted a steely blue, with a texture that was as likely to trip as it was to secure. Rubber rubbed against it in a gentle caress, soon becoming old friends in an act of repetitiveness, as hands slipped cartridges into metal barrel. Gold on the end, red towards the other, they climbed in and prepared for departure, delayed voyage would later be released by the pull of a hammer and the strike of it's trigger. It would be colossal for any thing to face, such a small thing delivering such a massive hit. They were twins, nestled together, fated for this excursion as only like minded things could. The mind of the Sith Lord wandered, an old man who was anxious and found comfort in his own form of litany. He eyed the structure of the facility, the force flowed about it like water across glass. Ribbons touched and connected everything, stringing it together like puppets dancing at the will of something greater. Not him, he had long turned the strings around on the master, claiming ownership of his fate and ownership of the fate of those he touched. The force would have no dealings in his business, merely a helpless watcher and sometimes an obedient participant. But these things, this building, these pipes, these wires, these people, they were slaves and puppets to the force. Their hands found only what they were fated to find, the feet upon the path set before them, the destiny never their own. He could give them freedom, Gabriel thought, he could derail their path and give them something to look forward to: the unknown. There was a comfort in that, he nodded as he began to agree with himself, realizing that sooner or later the logic would click. There was a comfort in the idea that each step wasn't placed in a footprint already formed, that the tool you used was formerly fated to collect dust and never be used, and the life you lived would be your own.
Amidst his silent soliloquy, his eye turned towards the destination on the map, the coldness of the cell block and the cinder construction that set it apart. The force wrapped itself around it just as before, like sheets pulled over a bed. Except, it didn't. There was noise, distortion and wrinkles where it should have been flat. Warping and concave stretching where it should have been level and smooth. He wasn't an amateur and this wasn't his first rodeo, he had seen the force manipulated before. It was a small thing amidst such a large area, he thought, just the size to keep the keen from sensing that thing behind the curtain. But in their own attempts to block off the force, they had shown importance where the void existed. Otherwise, what would be the point. | It could be a trap or decoy.|
The electronic band across his forearm buzzed silently, set to quiet, and words pushed across the screen. He turned to read them, words of scouts clearing and moving on to a section from [member="Nickolas Imura"]. The screen lit his face, revealing a smirk in the darkness of the utility area, as he felt the presence of another Sith moving into or towards the complex, a sith unknown to him by the name of [member="Darth Veles"]. He would meet the presence soon enough, he assured himself, as fingers danced across screen to shut off the backlight. Despite having honed in on to what only could be assumed as some sort of field distorting or blocking the connection to the force, he wasn't sure of it's nature. He would wait for the opportune time, he would need to wait for support. One thing, he was sure of however, was that the prison cells and specifically, that location, was where they would need to focus their efforts.
[member="Ven'Rain Sekairo"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Darth Banshee"]
