Eternal Father
The shuttle dipped amongst the city's sprawl, weaving past towering skyscrapers and across vast expanses of residential housing that stretched out as far as the eye could see in any direction. Ravelin was the truest expression of the Sith Empire's power in the galaxy, a sparkling utopia that placed all of their glory on a pedestal for everyone to see. Kintsugi wouldn't find such a magnificent edifice of grandeur anywhere else outside of the Core Worlds.
But the true monument to the Sith was yet ahead.
As they curved around the bend of another glimmering spire, a massive structure dominated their vision that towered above anything else that the young Pantoran had seen so far. Rising three kilometers above the city-scape, the Palace of the Sith Emperor was the largest structure in all of Ravelin and by far the most beautiful. Permanently illuminated by phosphorescent panels, glowspheres, and electroluminescence strips arrayed along its outer walls, even in the brightest day the Palace shimmered like the brightest stars. A series of codes were relayed back and forth from the shuttle's operators and the flight control decks of the Palace's hangar bays, granting them access to land at the highest levels of the Palace's structure.
Typically reserved only for the Emperor and his entourage, but exceptions were made for tributary missions.
As the shuttle came to a rest, a pair of guards commanded the Pantoran to leave the shuttle via the disembarkation ramp. She was then traded off to a pair of the Emperor's own household guards to be escorted to his throne room.
The halls of the Sith Emperor were resplendent in their opulence, a monument to the glory and prestige that his Empire had fought tooth and nail to achieve. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting the various triumphs over the past several years, Krayiss II, Mirial, Thyferra, Alderaan, Coruscant, Ession, and most recently Commenor. Each had been commissioned by the Emperor himself, crafted by the finest weavers in the entire galaxy at the behest of his bottomless coin purse. Bronze busts of Sith Lords, both modern and ancient, were propped up beneath them on pedestals of rich white marble trimmed in gold and inscribed with ancient Sith runes.
It didn't take long for the small Pantoran to come face-to-face with the entrance to the Emperor's throne room.
The doors leading to the Emperor's sanctum were tall, impossibly so, and were gilded on all angles with luminous silver metal while the doors themselves were fashioned from black turadium. There were no guards flanking the doors, only a pair of statues which beckoned with gnarled claws and personified ancient primordial entities from the deepest recesses of Sith lore. Columns of coiling marble flanked a middle walkway upon which a carpet of the richest fabric was laid out with exquisite precision, there was no error in the symmetry of the decoration.
The silence was broken by the tell-tale sound of whirring mechanisms and the gargantuan doors retreated into the doorframe's partition, revealing a chamber of such opulence and grandiosity that it made the waiting chamber look positively dull in comparison. Yet it was not a magnificence that one would expect, the light in the room was dimmed down to barely a flickering glow and the floors and walls seemed to be made out of the darkest substance as if light it was couldn't exist alongside it.
A guard, nearly nine feet tall, emerged from the room to pound the pommel of his vibro-halberd against the floor, drawing the Pantoran's attention to him. "The Emperor will see you now." The guard turned and returned to his station within the chamber, clearing the pathway for the smaller being to enter and begin her trek towards the throne dais. As she proceeded deeper into the chamber, her eyes would begin to adjust to the perpetual gloom as the light of the antechamber receded with the closing of the doors. Mirroring columns of marble lined the pathway to the Emperor's throne, each one decorated with profane and ancient personifications of the Dark Side as depicted in the grimoires of the ancient Red Sith.
The throne itself was raised several steps off of the main floor and had been wrought from a slab of glossy obsidian and inlaid with gold geometry and esoteric symbols, the pelt of a monstrous creature from some distant and primordial world draped over the high back. Yet as grand as the throne appeared, it paled in comparison to the man who sat upon its seat. His muscular body was swaddled in a deep maroon cloak, his torso protected by a cuirass of blackened armor emblazoned with the crest of his house; the dreaded Eye of Solomon. A crown of brilliant rubies sat perched atop his brow, and his luxurious black hair was pulled back in a warrior's ponytail and decorated with bands of gold and shimmering gemstones.
His eyes were like pits of unfathomable hatred, the whites completely corrupted by the Dark Side until they were as black as the empty void between the warmth of the distant molten stars that were his pupils. One brow arched in intrigue as he came to stand before him, his lips peeling back in a callous chuckle as he leaned forward to get a better look at his newest visitor.
And then in a voice overflowing with authority and immense cruelty, "So, this is the gift that Inquisitor Trellux spoke of. You don't look like much, girl, but appearances can be more than deceiving... Tell me who you are."
But the true monument to the Sith was yet ahead.
As they curved around the bend of another glimmering spire, a massive structure dominated their vision that towered above anything else that the young Pantoran had seen so far. Rising three kilometers above the city-scape, the Palace of the Sith Emperor was the largest structure in all of Ravelin and by far the most beautiful. Permanently illuminated by phosphorescent panels, glowspheres, and electroluminescence strips arrayed along its outer walls, even in the brightest day the Palace shimmered like the brightest stars. A series of codes were relayed back and forth from the shuttle's operators and the flight control decks of the Palace's hangar bays, granting them access to land at the highest levels of the Palace's structure.
Typically reserved only for the Emperor and his entourage, but exceptions were made for tributary missions.
As the shuttle came to a rest, a pair of guards commanded the Pantoran to leave the shuttle via the disembarkation ramp. She was then traded off to a pair of the Emperor's own household guards to be escorted to his throne room.
The halls of the Sith Emperor were resplendent in their opulence, a monument to the glory and prestige that his Empire had fought tooth and nail to achieve. The walls were lined with tapestries depicting the various triumphs over the past several years, Krayiss II, Mirial, Thyferra, Alderaan, Coruscant, Ession, and most recently Commenor. Each had been commissioned by the Emperor himself, crafted by the finest weavers in the entire galaxy at the behest of his bottomless coin purse. Bronze busts of Sith Lords, both modern and ancient, were propped up beneath them on pedestals of rich white marble trimmed in gold and inscribed with ancient Sith runes.
It didn't take long for the small Pantoran to come face-to-face with the entrance to the Emperor's throne room.
The doors leading to the Emperor's sanctum were tall, impossibly so, and were gilded on all angles with luminous silver metal while the doors themselves were fashioned from black turadium. There were no guards flanking the doors, only a pair of statues which beckoned with gnarled claws and personified ancient primordial entities from the deepest recesses of Sith lore. Columns of coiling marble flanked a middle walkway upon which a carpet of the richest fabric was laid out with exquisite precision, there was no error in the symmetry of the decoration.
The silence was broken by the tell-tale sound of whirring mechanisms and the gargantuan doors retreated into the doorframe's partition, revealing a chamber of such opulence and grandiosity that it made the waiting chamber look positively dull in comparison. Yet it was not a magnificence that one would expect, the light in the room was dimmed down to barely a flickering glow and the floors and walls seemed to be made out of the darkest substance as if light it was couldn't exist alongside it.
A guard, nearly nine feet tall, emerged from the room to pound the pommel of his vibro-halberd against the floor, drawing the Pantoran's attention to him. "The Emperor will see you now." The guard turned and returned to his station within the chamber, clearing the pathway for the smaller being to enter and begin her trek towards the throne dais. As she proceeded deeper into the chamber, her eyes would begin to adjust to the perpetual gloom as the light of the antechamber receded with the closing of the doors. Mirroring columns of marble lined the pathway to the Emperor's throne, each one decorated with profane and ancient personifications of the Dark Side as depicted in the grimoires of the ancient Red Sith.
The throne itself was raised several steps off of the main floor and had been wrought from a slab of glossy obsidian and inlaid with gold geometry and esoteric symbols, the pelt of a monstrous creature from some distant and primordial world draped over the high back. Yet as grand as the throne appeared, it paled in comparison to the man who sat upon its seat. His muscular body was swaddled in a deep maroon cloak, his torso protected by a cuirass of blackened armor emblazoned with the crest of his house; the dreaded Eye of Solomon. A crown of brilliant rubies sat perched atop his brow, and his luxurious black hair was pulled back in a warrior's ponytail and decorated with bands of gold and shimmering gemstones.
His eyes were like pits of unfathomable hatred, the whites completely corrupted by the Dark Side until they were as black as the empty void between the warmth of the distant molten stars that were his pupils. One brow arched in intrigue as he came to stand before him, his lips peeling back in a callous chuckle as he leaned forward to get a better look at his newest visitor.
And then in a voice overflowing with authority and immense cruelty, "So, this is the gift that Inquisitor Trellux spoke of. You don't look like much, girl, but appearances can be more than deceiving... Tell me who you are."
[member="Kintsugi"]