In The Citadel

[Soeht]

The Clockwork Rebellion had subsided. Resistance fighters destroyed Omni's core. The droids and beings under the AI's control no longer followed his directives. Among these afflicted, Darth Apparatus regained complete control of his will. He discarded the armor and mask he wore while in Omni's service. No longer a faceless entity, the Sith Lords enemies would have something to identify Darth Apparatus by.

The recovery of Dromund Kaas and many worlds ravaged by Omni had begun. Darth Apparatus slipped through the normally tight security of Kaas City. He had not contacted anyone within the Empire since the fall of Omni.

Without trouble, Darth Apparatus reached the mighty Citadel. Scars from the machine's assault still marked the building. Entering the pathway for Sith, two crimson armored Imperial Guards noticed the Darth and moved to intercept him. They did not recognize him, and rightfully so.

As soon as the guards were within arms reach, Darth Apparatus lunged at them. He knew what thoughts they had and what they wished to do. Each of his hands grasped a Imperial Guardsman's head. In the instant after that, the protectors of the Citadel dropped to their knees - their minds scrambled by the dark side at Darth Apparatus's command.

Giving the guards no further attention, Darth Apparatus walked past them. After he left their view, the Imperial Guards stood up and took their normal spots in the pathway. They bowed to the next Sith that passed by and showed no signs that anything had happened.

Unimpeded for the moment, Darth Apparatus journeyed further into the Citadel.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

High above the citadel near its very tip stood a figure shrouded in a heavy black cloak with a mask covering his face. Two blades sat upon the figures back, with large rings at the very end of each handle. The Mask followed Apparatus as he walked towards the citadel, watching the man carefully. The figure shifted slightly as Apparatus entered the Citadel, watching as he took out the two Imperial guards with quick precision. As soon as the Sith Lord was gone the figure began to move.

The Figure jumped off of his high post, the force imbuing his every movement as he dashed from spire to spire. Quickly, like a flash of light he entered the Citadel through a massive crater that Omni had torn into its top.

Like a broken silhouette The figure moved through the destroyed citadel, unseen, unsensed, and unheard. He followed after Apparatus, moving behind the Sith Lord's path. The Figure moved quickly, chasing for an unknown reason. The silhouette knew these halls well, and he moved through the citadel with a controlled grace.

He knew not why Apparatus was here, but he intended to confront the man.

 

[Soeht]

The pursuing being behind Darth Apparatus received no attention from the Sith Lord. In just a few minutes, Darth Apparatus walked through the winding turns of the Citadel and reached a repulsorlift. Another Imperial Guard stood watch over it. Just as before, Darth Apparatus rushed forth and grabbed the man's head. Much as his peers at the entrance of the Citadel, his body tumbled backwards and slumped down the wall.

Then, Darth Apparatus took the lift down. Within the bowels of the Citadel was the vaults that contained many Sith artifacts. For most of the relics within, contemporary Sith found no use for them. Yet, their worth as pieces of history that could potentially unlock power at the right time had not been ignored. In order to protect them, they were locked within a vault that few had the privilege to enter. Darth Apparatus had not been given explicit permission to enter.

Still, the Sith Lord continued. His intended destination by then should have been apparent to onlookers.

 

[Dissero]

Citadel - Vault of Artifacts

One of the few that had that privileged was none other than Sith Knight Lord Dissero, Master of the Vaults. Named by the Empress herself, by her whim, he alone controlled the list of those who would and would not gain access to the treasures of the Darkside.

In the last several months the man had established a power base upon the planet of Rudrig. There within a great chain of mountains, the structure of a new Vault and Archives was nearing completion. Though the Clockwork Rebellion had set him back given the limited access to the ravaged home world of the Sith, he'd taken the liberty to begin moving the contents of the Vault. Little by little the relics traveled from one secure chamber to the other. Many would be safe from the prying hands of what shadow descended through the Citadel, but certainly not all.

The Master of Vaults was present this day, clad in the robes of black and emerald green that represented the Pillar of Knowledge. Though the colors were not his own to bare, the Knight felt they suited his duties to the Empire. The path to knowledge an ever-endless one, until such a time he name his own path he would continue to follow that of Darth Voracitos and the many others that came before him.

Sweat beading upon his brow, the Knight pursued the painstaking process of moving the last of several great and terrible artifacts remaining within the Vault. Many of which could not be trusted with physical touch, their powers so vast and largely unknown, they required a more delicate handling by the Force. Ancient tomes and scrolls, weapons, holocrons, fetishes, jewelry - the objects varied from the common and mundane to the foreign and mystical. Their magics varied just as much, and the histories to many of them had been lost to time, plague, and war. Dissero wasn't taking any chances, and in this respect he'd called in another more experienced man to help with the job: @[member="Tirdarius"].

From first impressions upon his new home planet of Rudrig, Dissero found the man as capable as he'd been lead to believe. A former student of his own mother, Tirdarius was intelligent, studious, and most importantly just as passionate about the quest for knowledge as he. Though age separated them, Dissero found in the man a curious Scholarly kinship. If ever there was someone he might consider a brother, it was him.

Dissero was especially grateful for the more powerful man's presence when it came time to assess the last piece left: a Sith Spellbook. The ancient tome sat innocently enough atop an obsidian podium. They would have to move the pieces together - the Empress had warned - the podium itself was enchanted to help contain the dark powers within the book. The Master of Vaults took a deep breath as he stood before it, feeling the power it radiated grow a dull throb in his chest. He winced, blue eyes passing over the ancient leather binding of the book in an attempt to decipher the faded words. Though fluent and well-studied on his dead languages, this was not clear enough even for him. The Archivist held back the urge to reach out and touch it which seemed to grow stronger the closer he drew. Was this how the tome lured in its victims? The promise of power was a delicious one indeed.

"This one's yours," he spoke, deep voice rasp from hours spent breathing in the dust and decay of the vault. The Knight tore his gaze from the book, forcing it over at the approaching figure of Lord Tirdarius brows raised. Better you, than me, he thought, a ghost of a smirk hinting to this.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Vault of Artifacts, Imperial Citadel, Dromund Kaas

Long and arduous though the work was, in truth, there were few who would be willing to spend the endless hours down here cataloguing the contents of this place and preparing to move them elsewhere - most of those who came here merely wanted the power contained within the myriad number of objects here, caring little for their survival after the fact, and giving little appreciation for the complexity of the work now being handled here. Most would come in here like a Rancor in an antiques store, simply taking what they wanted with ignorant, grasping hands and leaving nothing but chaos in their wake.

With Dissero intent on moving these precious artifacts to the more secure repository he had created on Rudrig, it made sense that some assistance would be required - and, naturally, the younger man had thought to approach his mother's former protege for the task. She'd have found some amusement in that, Tirdarius thought. a ghost of a smile crossing his otherwise dispassionate visage. The two men shared a fondness for the gathering of knowledge, both drawn to the arcane and the archaic, feeling it their duty to preserve the collective lore of the Order they had both sworn themselves to. It was only right that they be here, together, to perform this singular duty.

And now, the book. Not some gaudy tome proclaiming it's secrets to all and sundry, but a dark book, carefully crafted with durable paper that had managed to survive the ravages of time through unnatural means, concealed by a dark black leather binding that, though worn and faded, was still holding strong. Of all the artifacts within, this one had been left until the very last, it's insidious nature apparent simply by virtue of the fact that it was otherwise so nondescript and unremarkable. Just a book, such as you would find in a thousand libraries across the Galaxy. Yet this particular tome...utterly unique. And utterly deadly, if so much as touched by the unprepared.

Dark grey eyes turning towards it, the Sith Lord examined it, looking for subtle hints that might suggest something of what the book was capable of. He knew it to be a grimoire containing spells belonging to the ancient Sith, a tome of sorcery that was capable of offering great power to the worthy, but true horror to those not ready or capable of translating the spidery words that might be found scrawling across a page. The kindest fate it might offer to the uninitiated would be mere insanity, an escape from the rational dictates of the Galaxy. He'd heard stories of such unleashed before - neither he nor Dissero would naturally have any inclination to test the truth of it.

Stepping towards it, he raised a pale hand, the generous black sleeve of his robe sliding back against his slender wrists, and he placed the hand just above the tome, hovering a few centimetres above that innocent-looking cover, fingers splayed. "S'dies kam kash odacai", he said softly, muttering a short phrase in the ancient language of the Sith, an incantation designed to expose concealed protections and allow true artifacts to be exposed. The book glowed briefly with a soft blue light, the incandescence flaring brilliantly for a moment and then fading once more into nothingness. Even to touch this book would be true madness, then, he thought, his grey eyes flickering over towards Dissero, a nod following it, confirming what they had both thought to be true.

Does it not intrigue you?, he asked, a telepathic question directed towards his companion. The wealth of knowledge, stored in so innocuous an object, Tirdarius observed with a soft sigh. Once, he would have done anything to be able to open the fragile binding and turn those frail pages, seeking to learn what was within. He had long since learned the folly of this: some knowledge was merely to be preserved, not to be unleashed. Certainly not by any now living. This was better kept hidden. Only one in a thousand Sith might ever open this book, and perhaps only one in a hundred of those would ever wield the powers within, he remarked silently, his grey eyes once more seeking out Dissero. Tempting. So very tempting...

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

The Figure followed Apparatus to even the very bowels of the Citadel. Moving through unseen was actually quite simple, most of the Sith were focused on the rebuilding efforts and The Dreadlord was a master of stealth. He moved quietly, and quickly until finally he saw Apparatus reach the very end of the halls. He took a lift downwards, towards a destination that the figure had not foreseen. A scowl behind the mask appeared, he should have known.

The Figure sighed, and then finally stepped into the light. There was only one way into the vaults, and that path led him directly down. Once in the light it was clear who he was...at least it would have been to Apparatus. Moridin wore an ancient mask, one he had forged a millenium before.

Like a flash of light he moved forward, arriving at the edge of the lift doors in just a few seconds. Just as the did the Imperial guard began to rise again, Moridin frowned and quickly quickly drew a short blade upon his back. He stabbed the weapon through the Imperial's throat, pinning the man to the wall and ending his life before any confrontation was possible. Then with a wave of his hand Moridin pried upon the door's to the lift tunnel.

The blackness of the tunnel appeared to him immediately, and he frowned. He had forgotten how far down the tunnel actually went. With a shrug Moridin stepped to the ledge of the tunnel, and then took the plunge.

He was going to follow Apparatus, even to deaths door.

 

[Dissero]

Dissero watched the man and the tome from a distance, gaze sober beneath the weight of the artifact's powers. The young man's lips drew thin as within his mind's eye he relived many instances of his life on distant planets scouring dark, forbidden tombs. The heady breath of the deep unknown both drew him in and disturbed him. His life, though short, had left him baring many scars as consequences to unbridled curiosity.

It does, an unspoken voice returned to the older Lord, much more than I dare admit. His face paled, though not entirely noticeable in the dim light of the vaults, and he felt his eyes pulled back to the ancient book unwillingly. The Knight stared, fixated on it, envisioning the powers he could obtain with such a simple, innocent act of turning a page and reading the symbols within. He was but a peon within a game of thrones, this he knew, and while he was not resentful of this knowledge he was much like any other peon wanting to advance. Rudrig had been the first of many stepping stones, and one day he too desired to rule.

No, Dissero's brow twitched and furrowed, I don't desire to rule. I desire respect.

"...strange..." the man shook his head and once more turned away from the tome.

Such visions of grandeur he knew were not his own. Delusions, more like it, placed there by the mysterious will of the book. I will not be a victim to it.

That one will not be me... not today, those last words added to his thoughts he felt were compelled with a bit too much conviction. He scowled, feeling a flare of heated anger blaze through his thoughts. Strangely enough, it seemed to clear them of a fog he hadn't noticed settling there.

Let us be done with this. The Knight turned to the stack of crates nearby and pulled from the side the tallest of the assortment and one of the few made of alchemically enhanced alloy. It was dastardly heavy and cumbersome, but the Archivist was uncommonly built and capable of moving it without the aid of the Force. First and foremost Dissero was a Warrior; his interest in the occult had only developed over the last several years. What would you have me do? he looked to Tirdarius as he unlocked the metal hinged door and pulled it open. The crate sat gaping and foreboding, its insides strangely dark despite not being particularly deep.

 

[Soeht]

As the lift continued to descend, Darth Apparatus glanced upward at the moment his pursuer killed the Imperial Guard. It was not a result he willed to happen to one he touched the mind of. Therefore, if he had not realized before he had been followed, he knew with certainty that some being pursued him.

Once at the bottom, the lift's doors opened to reveal the entrance of the grand vault. Upon stepping out of the elevator, Darth Apparatus could feel the culmination of possibly thousands of dark side corrupted artifacts. Such a sensation brought comfort to the Sith Lord.

With Dissero and Tirdarius further within the vault and examining several relics, Darth Apparatus did not have a visual of them. Yet, the Sith Lord marched deeper into the vault toward them - and the sanctuary of the vault was surely disturbed by the Darth's presence alone. He moved as if he had knowledge of the layout and how relics were cataloged - not moving his head side to side to read anything but walking straight for his target with his head fixated forward.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Yes, there was far more to the book that merely it's outward appearance - it was a tome inscribed with spells concealed beneath the surface, but apparent nonetheless to those who could feel the malevolent effects of it. No artifact can be imbued with the energies of the Dark Side and not retain some of that darkness at it's core. Even despite the rarity of artifacts such as this, descriptions and experiences of the consequences of being in the presence of such a thing were well-known. It is to face temptation, to be drawn towards power like a Loveti Moth to a Glowglobe, Tirdarius thought, slightly disconcerted by it.

That was the danger of it all, though: artifacts like this were designed to draw the unwary, to tempt the undisciplined to seek power before they were ready for it. In truth, they existed not be used as a means to elevate those who had not ascended to the higher ranks of power among the Sith, but rather were used by those who had to consolidate their positions. Only a disciplined Sith might read this book safely, proof against the corrupting forces it projects, the Sith Lord observed inwardly. A being of impetuousity and recklessness would soon find themselves ensnared, destroyed simply because patience was not a weapon in their arsenal. No doubt many had learned the dangers of this, to their cost.

He had long felt the pull of such objects: his own natural desire for knowledge compounded by the subtle effects felt through the Force. Holocrons, scrolls, ancient tomes filled with information that would only add to my knowledge... Oh, yes, the pull had been hard to resist, once. Silencia had taught him the value of patience, and even the impetuousity of youth had failed to overcome that carefully-instilled discipline. Even though the book sought to tempt him, he knew that the promise of power was a fragile gift: capable of many things if grasped likely, but taken with a firm hand, was likely to crumble into dust - and to take him into the depths with it.

It's a thing of beauty, is it not? A trap for the unweary, a punishment for the unworthy, a challenge for the most capable among us, he articulated, projecting his soft, calm voice through telepathic means, a faint tendril of energy linking his mind to that of his younger friend. We live in a time where we are fit but to watch and preserve, but to create something of such deadly magnificence... Tirdarius shook his head. The ages where the Sith had sought to create and build were long past, their magnificence dimmed in a time where it seemed that all were out for themselves, even with the doctrine of the One Sith still holding steady. We revert to the old ways, those that failed us, he thought with a sigh.

Raising his hand once again, the Sith Lord pointed directly at the podium upon which the book stood restfully, waiting. Biding it's time, as all must. Invisible tendrils of energy extended outwards from his hand, an imaginary fist curling around the podium's smooth sides and tightening so as to hold it firmly in a grasp that would not be shaken. He turned the hand around slowly, that his palm might face upwards towards the ceiling. His hand moved upwards by perhaps a centimeter, and as it did so, the podium smoothly pushed away from the stone floor upon which it sat, now hovering in the air, unsupported by any visible means.

Stand away from the case, Tirdarius instructed with telepathic urgency, not wanting Dissero to find out whether or not mere contact with the book would be sufficient to provoke it's defenses. Silencia would not thank me were her son to be driven mad in such an absurd fashion. The podium moved once more, following the motion of his hand, guiding it across the floor of the repository and towards the case that now awaited it.

Soon, you shall return to your sleep, and depart this place for a new residence, Tirdarius thought calmly, feeling pleased in the notion that they, too, would be able to leave. This place is hardly fit for civilised beings, he mused. A dark relic of an ancient time, a tomb for reliquaries, not the warmth of the living.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

With a heavy thud the Dreadlord of Byss landed upon the turbo-lift itself. The metal of the roof dented slightly as he landed, using the force to soften his landing even more. He frowned slightly as the landing jarred him, soon however he recovered himself. From within his robe he drew out a lightsaber hilt, quickly he ignited the blade and sliced his way through the roof of the turbo-lift.

There was no more subtlety here. The Vaults were likely deserted, whatever Apparatus was looking for down here the two of them would likely be alone, this meant it was the perfect place for Moridin to kill the man...in theory. With another thud Moridin dropped down from the roof of the lift and to the floor. He once again waved his hand opening the lifts doors. Apparatus was only a few dozen meters ahead of him now, he could see the man go around a corner.

The Dreadlord scowled as he began to walk into the vaults. He remembered going through here for the first time when he Became Emperor. He had cataloged and studied many of these Artifacts, a few of them ironically were of his own creation. Not many within the Empire knew but Moridin was an avid Smith.

He created blades, trinkets, and pretty much anything else one could think of and all of it was infused with the Darkside of the force. It was a talent that he had gained and created within himself for some time, Sith Artifacts were a hobby to him.

Moridin walked past a set of gloves, easily recognizing them as one of the few things within the vaults he had created. The thought brought a smile to his face, though it quickly passed. He was here to kill Apparatus, here to test himself against the mans strength not take a trip down memory lane.

 

[Dissero]

Tirdarius did not have to ask twice, and indeed at all. Once the metal crate was open the younger Knight took a step back, issuing his own will on the Force only to hold the box stead as the Sith Master fed the contents carefully into it. He watched with widening eyes, feeling a cold intensity permeate his skin. His hair stood on end and suddenly the air in the chamber became electric. Dark.

It's like it knows... Dissero thought to himself as his eyes followed the path of the tome, it knows it's about to fade into obscurity. Here it sat at the heart of the Sith Empire. Soon it will call a cold corner of the Vaults on Rudrig its home, never to lure in the unsuspecting again. A tight pain in his chest pulled the man from his thoughts and Dissero suddenly realized he'd stopped breathing. His hands ached from pulling into fists - as though subconsciously a stoic determination had taken him over. Determination for what he couldn't be sure. He thought perhaps to keep it hidden, keep it safe; yet perhaps far into the darker dredges of his mind it was a determination to keep it for himself.

One day it would bend to his will.

A deft 'clunk' resounded from within the crate, and all at once the tome dissipated beneath a veil of darkside sorcery. Jaw set, Dissero nodded to Tirdarius and motioned to the door of the box, swinging it shut and engaging the locking mechanism. The darkness in the room lifted and suddenly the Knight became very aware that they were no longer the only two in the Vaults.

The Knight looked up and turned his gaze to Tirdarius, silently asking the obvious question, ...do you feel that?

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

The solid mechanisms of the crate swung into place, the pulsating waves of dark energy coming from the container somewhat muted now by the alchemical enchantments placed upon it, designed to restrain those same forces from having a powerful effect on those who would come into contact with it in transit. Where Sith can resist, our subjects tasked with the logistics of the move would be easily lured in otherwise. The thought of a shipload of insane crewman, driven to such psychological extremes by the artifacts they conveyed...it was enough to send a shiver down the spine, a thought more poisonous than that self-same energy that threatened one's emotional equilibrium.

The now-restrained energies lifted a shroud that had existed over them, both concealing and yet muting their sense of their environment through the Force, their minds no longer oppressed by that all-consuming temptation that had threatened to break their discipline and draw them into a trap that would have destroyed them both, even with their combined knowledge and will. It was as though a fog had lifted, and suddenly light shone through the darkness produced by the clouds, leaving things evident to their sight that had not been there before.

He's right, Tirdarius realised, extending his own senses outward, his mind shedding attachment to his corporeal body, envisioning the vaults as he remembered them and as the Force perceived them, that same extension walking the corridors and seeing the crates, the empty niches where artifacts had stood, and an encroaching darkness that pressed back against the senses, entreating them to ignore all. One of us has come, though to what purpose...

As far as he was aware, none had authorisation to be here, none save the masters of this world, the Empress herself and, naturally, the two of them, preparing to move the artifacts of this place to a world where they would be safe and concealed, both from those who would abuse their power and from they who would risk insanity to merely gain a glimpse of greater strength. Whoever it is that comes may well intrude upon sacred ground, the Sith Lord thought darkly. Such an intrusion is sacrilege. That could not be tolerated.

We are not alone as we should be, Dissero, he thought, directing that perception to the other Sith, the images and sensations that he had felt carried along that telepathic link so that the younger man would feel the perceptions of the Sith Lord, reinforcing whatever it was he had determined from his own sensory extension. All here will be in mortal danger, he observed, a shiver of premonition cascading through his senses. Here, the Dark Side gathers in force, tempestuous energies both destructive and powerful, he reflected. This is not a place where Sith should gather for ill purpose. Not if they intended to leave in one piece.

 

[Soeht]

At the turn of a corner, Darth Apparatus looked down a narrow path to see Dissero and Tirdarius at the end near several crates. Eyes locked onto their forms. No weapon was drawn, though the dark side was strong within Darth Apparatus. A foreboding air surrounded him, much like many of the tomes the two Sith before him examined.

It seemed at first that Darth Apparatus would have awaited for their response. Yet knowing that he was pursued, Darth Apparatus took the initiative.

His voice stretched out to the ears before him. The words that came from his mouth carried hints of the darkness within him as he demanded, "I͡ ͢requir͝e͞ ̸on͡l̷y ͘two c͢e͏r͡t̵a͏i҉ǹ h̵òl̕o͟c̴r̕o͟ns. ̛On͡c̀e I have͢ them, I w͢ill̕ ìmm̛ed̸i͘atel̛y ̶l̸eav̸e̛ ͏t̶h͜i̧s ̵pl͏a͟ce͢."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin rounded the last corner only seconds after Apparatus did, with his keen eyes he immediately spotted two familiar faces past the foreboding Sith Lord. Tirdarius and Dissero, the Dreadlord saw their faces and immediately knew this could be trouble. He had no idea what they were doing down here, nor did he really care. He heard Apparatus call out to the both of them, and his face contorted in a form of curiosity and slight disgust.

Holocrons? What the hell would he be needing those for? Was he after some ancient Sith Secret? Looking for a way to grow even more powerful? Moridin couldn't allow it for a multitude of reasons. He would have to end Apparatus before he could touch those holocrons.

“No.” Moridin simply said in response to Apparatus' statement. Of course it wasn't directed at him, but that was hardly the point.

Tirdarius and Dissero were both Loyal to the Empire...he assumed and would likely take as much objection to him being here as they did to Apparatus, but The Dreadlord's word still carried the weight of a command, whether they would follow it was another question. Meanwhile Moridin took up a sort of stance, he braced himself for confrontation.

Within himself he began to feel the souls of Byss become rowdy. They became eager, each and every one of them looked forward to this battle. With every fiber of his being Moridin wanted to Kill Apparatus. He did not hate the man, he did not even dislike him. He was however the only one that the Dreadlord truly considered his equal...and to kill ones equal was a fantastic accomplishment.

 

[Dissero]

There came that chill of surprise. Dissero felt the riveting sensation of hackles flaring along his spine as he turned to the sounds of approach. There in all his sinister glory stood Darth Apparatus. Dissero had never once faced the man before, at least never so close, but he knew now why many of the other Lords did not speak of the man with boldness like they might of others. Apparatus was largely an enigma - a feat in itself, considering how long the man had been setting fire to the galaxy.

The Master of Vaults stiffened at the mechanical sentence issued forth by Apparatus, most of which was lost within the garble of corruption and what he could only assume to be multiple souls attempting to speak multiple languages at once. Who knew, he certainly didn't, and he wasn't about to ask. He was, however, about to reply when another voice abruptly cut him off. Dissero turned his gaze to a shrouded figure as it emerged behind Apparatus, and though he could not see the man clearly he instantly recognized the presence as Moridin: fallen Emperor and former mentor of his own.

Dissero shifted uneasily, eyes glancing around shortly at all the irreplaceable, powerful items packed neatly away around them, and then to the man standing beside him. The Knight frowned.

"I'm going to have to concur," he began calmly, gaze turning back to Moridin, "with the former Emperor." He thought to remind the both of them that neither of them were supposed to be here, but decided against it.

Pardon my Rodian, but, he prodded at Tirdarius' thoughts while his right hand absently moved to hover over the lightsaber hilt at his hip, flarg.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Apparatus stepped forth from the shadows that graced the repository, the sense of him magnified through the Force as his physical presence augmented that which was now clearly visible through the energies around them: an invisible aura of darkness flickering here and there with turbulent flashes of light, a storm that threatened a deluge. He was a dangerous man, unstable, powerful, and Tirdarius knew with some considerable certainty that they were likely to come to blows here - that much seemed almost inevitable, once the other man's demand was heard, spoken in a voice colder than night, darkness than the deepest shadows.

It was the presumption that galled him more than anything, the sense that he could just come here and remove artifacts that were not his, either in possession or held in sacred trust on the Empire's behalf. So this is what you have been reduced to, Tirdarius thought, his grey eyes narrowing in anger and disgust. A powerful Lord of the Sith, one who's sole service should be to the Empire, and here you are. Reduced to the indignity of a common thief. It was almost hard to fathom, but his power notwithstanding, Apparatus' intrusion here could simply not be tolerated. He has gone too far already.

And now the presence of a fourth actor in this little scene: none other than Moridin, the Lord who was once Emperor, perhaps the strongest person here, certainly no neophyte, and a man it would be hard to contest entry to. As the Emperor, he could enter and leave as he wished - none would gainsay him. Now, though? Not exactly persona non grata, but not exactly a welcome sight for many within the Empire. Tirdarius was indifferent to his presence - though whether that would remain so depended entirely upon his intentions here. If he has come to aid Apparatus, we two will die here, unable to stop them both. In truth, the Sith Lord wasn't entirely certain they'd be able to handle Apparatus as it was - to repel both him and Moridin would be far beyond his strength.

You walk on sacred ground not meant for your presence, his telepathic voice growled at the others, projected into the minds of all present and never vocally perceived. The contents of the Repository are not yours to take and return as you please, the Sith Lord added, a hint of menace clashing with the urbane tones he had chosen to project to those present. There are plenty of books for you to read in the libraries above, Tirdarius observed, gesturing blithely with one hand. You're welcome to borrow those at your leisure.

He saw the small motion Dissero made towards his lightsaber, and keeping in mind his sense of duty both to Dissero and to his companion's mother, he took several steps across the chamber, bringing himself to stand between Apparatus and the Sith Knight, his hands relaxing at his sides, though he was clearly prepared to raise them in mutual defense if the need arose. As it no doubt will do. Tirdarius inhaled a soft breath, in that instant drawing in some of the energies within the chamber, combining them with his own, preparing to unleash them if he had to. Only if you force the issue now...

Bowing slightly from the waist, he offered the two new arrivals a slight gesture of respect: though they tread where they should not, they were still Sith Lords in their own right, worthy of courtesy. His grey eyes did not leave Apparatus, and he continued to stare even as he straightened. At any other time, I would welcome a meeting between us, he remarked, continuing to project his thoughts telepathically. However, you must leave this place. You should not be here.

 

[Soeht]

Not even a glance from Darth Apparatus made its way to Moridin as he spoke. The only being he seemed to pay attention to was Dissero. His head made a slight twitch toward the Sith Knight as he spoke aloud. The telepathic words Tirdarius attempted to send to Darth Apparatus would have been as if sending radio waves into the void of space. There would have been absolutely no response of any kind - through the Force or otherwise.

"Ơne of ͏t͘ho̡s͏e͡ h͜o̡locrons ͞is̴ my o͠wn̷," declared Darth Apparatus out loud, "Perśo͠n͠ally d̵epo͏s͏ited̷ ̧here͟ ͜by me for it̛s sȩcu͟r̵i̷t͏y."

The holocron mentioned would not have been labeled as so. In fact, no Sith should have been able to open it despite the lingering dark side presence within it. How it made it to the vaults would have been undocumented. Yet, the holocron would have been recorded to have been in storage for at least several decades.

"Yoư a͠r̛e͜ ͟unable͟ to̢ u͜se ̀i̴t," he continued, "A̴n͡d ́th̵e se͞c̴on͏d̀ ̀holocro͡n̵ ̧i̛s͢ ͜wo̸rt̴hless t̨o y̴ou͏ ̧w̕it̢h͡oųt m͞ỳ k͘n͢o͡w͞l͘e̵dge͞."

Stepping forth, Darth Apparatus extended an open hand. A subtle breeze blew through the repository as he moved.

"G̨iv̶è m̸e ́w͘ha͘t͟ ͞is m̀ine̸," demanded the Darth, echoing a situation similar to what Ashin handled in the past, "An̕d̸ y̶ou w͡il̨l̛ h͡ave҉ the̸ convenience of͏ ̛me l̡e̵avi͠ng҉ w͟it̴ho̶u̡t ̧is̕s͝u̢e a̵n͝d̵ ens̶u̶ri̧ng͠ ̢Dar͠t̕h M̴o̵ri҉d͏i̧ǹ d̵e̸pa̡rts̶ ͘with me a͞s͜ ͏w͘e͢l͘l̨."

The bargain Darth Apparatus presented to Dissero and Tirdarius would have guaranteed the safety of the relics in the vault. For the price of two artifacts, the rest would be unharmed by Darth Apparatus.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Moridin stood behind Apparatus for a few seconds and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when the man guaranteed that he would leave alongside with him. He was actually quite curious as to what Apparatus' plan was now. He had expected the holocrons he wanted to be from some ancient Sith Lord, Marka Ragnos or something of the sort, but it was one of his own. The Dreadlord stared at the Other Sith, mulling over his options. All he wanted was to fight Apparatus at his best, so that he could prove himself the strongest of all the remaining old Sith.

He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, and then finally made a decision. He wanted to Kill Apparatus yes, but he wanted to fight the man at his absolute peak, and nothing less. Slowly he replaced the lightsaber in his hand upon his belt.

The Dreadlord stared at the man, and then turned to face Tirdarius, ignoring Dissero completely. The man was Silencia's son, and she would be most displeased if anything were to happen to him. It was better for the child to not get involved at this point, lest he come to injury...or worse.

“Give him the holocrons. I guarantee he will pose no threat even with them in hand.” The Dreadlord once again spoke it as a command completely ignoring Tirdarius' earlier statements.

As soon as Apparatus had the holocrons the two of them could get on their way, then Apparatus could unlock whatever secret he needed and Moridin could kill him. To The Dreadlord's ego ridden mind it was as simple as that.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Offering a soft chuckle at Moridin's dismissive nature, Tirdarius glanced back at Dissero, raising an eyebrow questioningly, curious as to the younger man's opinion, but knowing fully well that he probably did not wish to offer it before these two volatile Sith Lords - such a thing had known to be fatal in the past. More to the point, it was Dissero that had been left in charge with storing and shipping the Holocrons - Tirdarius had been far more interested in the more esoteric artifacts within the vault. Holocrons only offer knowledge as it is known to those who crafted them, he thought. Limited in ways that other items here are not, serving a function only as a teaching tool.

As far as he was concerned, Apparatus had the right to one of those holocrons, but not to the other - the arrogance that he alone would be able to unlock it's secrets was one that all Sith would no doubt challenge, given the opportunity. Everyone thinks that they alone have the keys to power, but that is merely a delusion designed to feed the ego. No, he wouldn't hand that over unless he had to.

I would not empower you in such a manner, Lord Apparatus, he remarked cooly, the telepathic voice lacking all but a little intonation, polite but clearly adamant nonetheless. I won't stop you from retrieving your own possession, but the repository is not an all-you-can-eat buffet. You may not simply walk in here and remove whatever you wish, Tirdarius continued, his deep grey eyes narrowing slightly, the tone of that telepathic voice sharpening ever so slightly, as if he were simply lecturing a foolish student that had thought to question an instruction.

His eyes flickered to Moridin, standing slightly to the back of the other Sith Lord. He respected the man well enough, though he knew well enough that the former Emperor was here serving his own interests - and, to give the Holocrons to Apparatus was to entrust them to Moridin's whim. The man would not be suggesting that Apparatus was no threat unless he was intending to make him irrelevant, and that would only mean violence between them. So either I hand Apparatus a weapon that he might use against Moridin, or I give him artifacts that Moridin will then take from his cold corpse, the Sith Lord thought.

He knew fully well that he could not stand in opposition to both of them and emerge victorious, and realistically, it was in Moridin's interests to cause confrontation between the others in the room, simply to weaken the one he was here to kill. He certainly isn't about to wade into a fight on our side, he thought wryly. The former Emperor wasn't exactly an easy man to predict, it was true, but Tirdarius didn't think he'd survived his abdication by being a reckless fool. Tirdarius' eyes returned to the more immediate problem and fixed a stern gaze upon Apparatus, folding his arms in front of him to make it clear that he was going to put his foot down here.

I suggest you accept the compromise offered, my Lord, that telepathic voice said silently, perhaps a hint of mockery present in his tone with the latter few words, given that he owed the man no allegiance, tacit or otherwise. Our duties here require us to preserve the artifacts within from any who would seek them out, unless they have permission to retrieve an artifact, Tirdarius observed, still watching Apparatus. Perhaps you should go and visit the Empress. Perhaps she could be persuaded to give you a note of permission. And a cookie for being polite enough to ask.

 

[Soeht]