Private Whispers of a Dead God

[Darth Temerant]

Outfit - Flower not included
Rebreather
Tags: Darth Empyrean

Jutrand, the Black Citadel

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Temerant made his way down the halls of the Black Citadel, the Praetorian guiding his ascension quietly. It was just as well: he was not prone to idle chatter either, and after a brief flash of a holo-badge and a mutual sizing up, they had began their way to the throne room.

Temerant had never been in the Black Citadel prior to this most unexpected of summonings. Military personnel were all about, flooding the yet to be finished buildings with chatter and martial jargon. Some gave curious glances to the well-dressed, masked figure, though never did they linger - be it due to his eery company, or due to the lightsaber that hung from his hip, it was hard to say. Likely both. He couldn't help but admire what had been accomplished in such a relatively short amount of time, the large structures blending the cold, sharp aesthetics of the Imperium with ornamental, quasi-religious Sith iconography, the two marrying together to great effect, as pleasant as it was sinister.

At one point, they passed a hall with great paintings lining them, depicting saints of old. Though the Praetorian maintained a steady pace, it was forced to slow down as the Knight Inquisitor's own relented, the man taking his time to admire the works of art... and the visages they depicted. He wondered how much artistic licence had been taken. If these Dark Lords of the Sith were being exalted beyond reason or if, perhaps, the artist had been incapable of doing them true justice, their portraits paling before the obscene reality of their flesh and presence.

A grunt from the Praetorian snapped him out of his musings, Temerant meeting his expectant visage with a glare. There was a momentary pause, in which the unspoken threat of violence permeated the air between the two warriors as they held each other's gaze. At last, the large figure spoke.

"The Emperor..."

"Does not wait, yes," Temerant cut him off, nodding his concension. He was stubborn, and perhaps a touch too proud, but not stupid. One did not make it this far by wasting energy on asinine pursuits, and this was, perhaps, doubly true in his situation. Darth Empyrean had called upon him, and though he was famed for many things -ranging from the mundane to the mythical- suffering tardiness was not one of them.

They passed the rest of their journey to the throne room in relative quiet. Temerant had not dwelled overly much on what the head of the Imperium wanted from him. He had suspicions, of course, but he had learned a long time ago that there was no use in worrying over the inevitable. There was nothing which could truly prepare him for what was to come, and for better or worse, he would have his answers soon enough.

At last, they arrived to the ornate gates that preceded the throne room, another two Praetorians standing guard. In a show of pragmatism, there was little in the way of words exchange, a brief once-over given to the man in tow before a silent query was sent towards his guide, who merely offered a silent nod. With that, they proceeded to open the gates for him. Temerant did not hesitate as he stepped into the belly of the beast.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The throne room was massive, exceptionally so as the ceiling seemed to fade into darkness above them - though this was certainly some effect of sorcery, meant to inspire a sense of diminutive nothingness in its guests. Along each side of the hall stood very tall pillars who also fell away into nothing, with kyber accents among them all - and at the head of all this glamour was the kyber thrones of the Dread Emperor.​

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Sat upon them was a corpse, eyes of metal, arm missing, but his power was infinite in sensation - great and terrible, befitting the title bestowed upon him as master of gathering darkness. The Lord of the Dark Tide motioned for Darth Temerant to approach with the force, a slight nudge at his back without any visual movements of the Emperor. He spoke when he was close enough, his voice dry and taxing;​

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"Knight Inquisitor Temerant.", the Emperor said carefully, slowly adjusting himself to look down on his guest from the throne's raised station.​

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"You have made a name for yourself within the Inquisition - and my gaze is great. I have seen your actions, and they have brought you to me."​

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"You're an intelligent man, a greater agent - for what purpose do you believe I have summoned you here?"​

 

[Darth Temerant]

The Knight Inquisitor was not deterred by the bizarre effect the throne room created. He knew what it was to feel small. To be, as it were, diminutive in a galaxy that was largely cruel and uncaring, even to its chosen few. He focused instead on the kyber adornments of the already impressive throne room: a powerful statement, wasteful as some might find it.

He wasted little time fixating on such things, however. The Emperor's presence was almost opressive in its enormity, and a part of him screamed for him to ready himself to either fight or take flight as it gave him a beckoning prompt, the man suppressing a snarl. If Temerant knew something it was predators, and before him stood someone... -something- that stood at the top of the food chain. He did not listen to his instincts, however, steps steady and full of aplomb as he approached the Saint of Death.

"My Lord," he offered in greeting, alongside a faint dip of his chin, before adopting a straight, pseudo-militaristic stance, arms locked firmly behind his back as he received... nay, endured the Emperor's addressal.

He allowed for a small pause once he was done speaking, the frown that seemed to perennially frame his glacial gaze as much a mask as the respiratory device set over his jaw. Whether it was to collect his thoughts, or a silent statement of his own autonomy, it was hard to say, the man's own presence in the force perfectly concealed, giving no insight as to his own power, or to the emotions that fueled it.

"My Lord is much too kind in his assessment," he began, seemingly unmoved by the flattery. His voice, modulated as it was, still gave hints as to its depth and the gravel it naturally dragged with it. Pleasant, almost, were it not for the dryness in his own tone. "As for my being here, it would be folly to presume to know the mind of the Sith'ari," the man argued, picking his words with care, as if he'd just sat down at a dejarik holo-table. Still, he knew better than to entirely deflect the question. "I can but speculate. Perhaps my Lord would like for me to discretely remove dissension in regards to his divinity, or perhaps my Lord would like to see my skills put to greater purpose," he suggested. He allowed for another brief pause, doing his best to own the silence, even as Darth Empyrean owned their very surroundings just by virtue of sitting there. "One way or another," he concluded calmly. "My Lord wishes for something. And it is my duty to see that wish fulfilled," he stated matter-of-factly. It was not a declaration of submission, but rather, a reinforcement of the Emperor's own assessment: Temerant had no illusions as to why the being sitting before him had demanded audience. He was not there to receive commendation, but for what he had to offer.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"Good...", Empyrean said with a small, lip curling smile.​

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"You've a good head on your shoulders, Knight Inquisitor. If only all the Sith shared your sensibilities."​

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Slowly moving to stand from the crystalline throne, Empyrean seemed older than his face expressed. Despite the dead features, he walked almost hunched, slowly, carefully. It was entirely contradictory to the impression every sense Temerant felt about the man - that he was a predator. A predator with a slow gate, it would seem.​

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"Come.", he said, using the Force to motion him forward once more - though perhaps more gently than before. The authority in his words was enough.​

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He didn't speak against until he was free of the throne room, towards a partially furnished council room nearby. Temerant would know this to be the Dark Council chambers, with a central massive table and floating holoprojection of the galaxy. All that was missing was the various portraits, art pieces, and holocrons surrounding the room. Where it lacked in wealth, it more than made up for in pure architectural design.​

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"In time, I will have greater tasks for you - but for now, I would entrust you with exactly what you have declared. There are elements within the Imperium that doubt my strength, many of them have found solace in the Inquisition. I trust you do not carry these sentiments?", he said, his gaze quietly moving to look at the Knight.​

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But it carried none of his strength, more a prod than a thread. He moved to find a seat in the Council chamber and motioned for Temerant to sit nearby.​

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"Darth Ophidia has proven to be a problem, and should her plans to control our Empire succeed, we may face a dangerous fall into obscurity. I would not have that be the case, and as such I need allies within the Inquisition. You are the ally I have sought out, Darth Temerant, and I treat my allies very well. Does this interest you?"​

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Darth Temerant​

 

[Darth Temerant]

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Once again, Temerant strangled the low growl that fought to be born in his throat as the man beckoned him with the force. He'd be damned if he gave away even the slightest sign of emotion. Much as a Sith's passion was his strength, it was also a gateway into their soul. And that could be exploited.

All he did was comply, matching the speed of his steps as they entered the chamber. He allowed his frozen hues to take in the room, swiping it in much the way a holoscan would, committing it to memory, before finally settling on the map of the galaxy. There was a slight tilt to his head as he considered it: no doubt, he had an opinion about the state of things. But whatever it was, he did not give it voice, listening to the Emperor's words instead.

As he motioned for him to sit, he quirked a brow: the only sign of emotion he'd displayed so far. Nevertheless, he did as the Emperor bid, the subtle symbolism behind it all not escaping him, even as the liege lord continued.

"You wish for me to be a double agent," the man noted in no uncertain terms. His jaw clenched behind the mask, his eyes turning briefly towards the map, then back towards the decrepit figure.

"Strength is a subjective concept, my Lord," he began then. "Strength of the mind. Strength of the body. The strength to rule over others... The strength to rule over oneself," the man began to list, his gaze now fully focused on Darth Empyrean , the man giving him a look that was eloquent in and on itself. "...No. I do not doubt your strength," he conceded at last, nodding faintly to himself. "And yet, I believe you wish for it to be challenged. For such has ever been the way of the Sith. For such is the natural order of things."

The Knight Inquisitor leaned back into his seat, considering the enormity -and the danger- of what was offered. "Why me?" he asked him then. "You know full well that I am a member of the Order of Her Shadow. We are to embody her teachings. In fact, many amongst the Tsis'Kaar believe her to be the rightful Sith'ari. That in her hands, the Order would not be plunged into obscurity, but would rather rise to new heights..." he reminded the overlord. "What makes my Lord think I do not subscribe to this belief myself?"

He'd moved his piece, for better or for worse, and all that was left was to see how the Dead God would respond.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Empyrean resisted the urge to grin at the question, letting his metal eyes look upon Temerant with a renewed focus as he spoke, "Because you are not a victim of her teachings, you're far too intelligent for that."​

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"And you don't want to live in the obscurity the Tsis'kaar provides - you want greatness, as a Sith deserves. Your record shows as much."​

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"What I offer may start with 'double agent', but it extends far further Darth Temerant. You are correct that in time, I will have my strength tested - and I welcome the day a better Sith rises to my place, but that involves training, teaching, and trust. Serve me, and you could become a Saint I can trust."​

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Darth Temerant​

 

[Darth Temerant]

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Ah. Greatness. Saint. The Emperor did not disappoint. He knew what notes to play, what moves to make. There was a glimmer in the Knight Inquisitor's strange eyes. They were like watching a pair of lakes that had frozen over, a cruel intelligence swimming in their glacial depths, clawing to get out... and then something strange happened: a smile dared creep up to them, and the Sith snorted a grunt.

"Hrm. A Saint. My painting on a wall, for future generations of Sith to admire. To aspire..." he gave Darth Empyrean a knowing look. "You were watching me," he stated then, his tone indicating he had no doubts in that regard. Perhaps, he'd even been expecting it.

"If I may be so bold, my Lord, I do not think you give a flying kark about my intellect," he proclaimed then. "There are no doubt Inquisitors who boast more intellectual prowess than myself. What really interests you is my pragmatism," he sentenced. "And the fact that I am dangerous," he added, head rocking faintly from side to side. "You want a weapon, sharp and discrete, and I am uniquely positioned to cause a lot of damage, were I to be wielded appropriately," he mused as he adjusted the cuffs to his jacket's sleeves - out of habit, no doubt, for there was nothing in his attire that did not scream immaculate.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" he suggested then. "Were I to say no, I'd disappear. Whether by your will or my own," he offered a vague shrug, his attention returning to the Emperor. "Fortunately, such is not my inclination, one way or another. Your proposal intrigues me, as you knew it would. But I would much rather we were candid, my Lord. You have no intention of trusting me. Of grooming me, perhaps. Of testing my mettle and dedication. But for all your power, for all your wealth and strength... Trust is perhaps the one thing you cannot afford," he concluded. For a man who'd been trained in the arts of secrecy and subterfuge, he wielded his honesty like one might a whip, his tongue lashing in sharp, precise strikes. "Heavy is the crown."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"Then you underestimate me, Darth Temerant.", he said with a more withheld grin - though it carried far more danger. Like somehow Temerant had stepped on something akin to a landmine in the conversation, incurring his blood lust. Small and fleeting, the presence of the Dark Side shifted away from their collective conversation as the Emperor's eyes fell on the holographic display of the Galaxy.​

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"All of what you said is true, but your presumptions about me are not so accurate. My philosophy defers greatly from my peers, and I have no illusions it contradicts the man before you. What is left of a man, that is."​

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The Emperor was, afterall, corpse like - more wound and grey rot than anything living. Even his eyes were no longer human, but dark metal spheres with twisting, changing designs on them. He was as far seperated from mortality as one could guess, and it was only fair to assume him as careless as any.​

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"There is a danger in Sith Society, that one must carefully tread to both be in an advantageous position, and to not have their position compromised through ignorance. To trust too much can open your throat, but to not trust at all makes you a fool with no friends - bound to fail in your machinations. There are those I trust, such as the Empress Srina Talon , the Dread Wolf Gerwald Lechner , and my son Arcturus Dinn - but there are more. More I trust, perhaps not with my life, but with my schemes, my empire, and my power."​

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"For me to trust them, to trust you, they require intelligence key among all things. Power can be cultivated, armies can be marshalled and drafted - but intelligence is nothing that can be made anew. House Io begged for a place among the Sith, only to squander it on insane ramblings and insults - that showed they lacked even the basis for intelligence. You do not lack that, you know that if you were to betray me - you would disappear. Everything you know would be gone."​

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"You're intelligent enough to know what I am, and what I am capable of, Darth Temerant. And for that, I trust you - because you trust that I can end a life from a galaxy away."​

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"So yes, Knight Inquisitor, as we all do in these great things - you have a choice. Many, infact. You can say no and face the consequences that come with it. You can say yes, then betray me to the Snake Queen - and face the consequences. Or you say yes, and face the consequences. There are a thousand choices before you, as is your right as a Sith - but it is my right as the Dark Lord to show you what happens with each."​

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"Choose at your leisure.", he finished with a slight smile.​

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Darth Temerant​

 

[Darth Temerant]

Temerant listened to the shadow of a man speak, his features, or rather, what was visible of them, unchanging. In fact, the man did not so much as blink until the Emperor was through with his corrections, even as once again the Sith Lord appealed to his most primal instincts.

It was only when he was done, that he wrinkled his nose. "I must apologize," he remarked at last. And for what it was worth coming from one such as he, it seemed genuine. "I have a tendency to attempt to deconstruct others. I am good at it. Very good. And it serves me well in what I do. But my Lord is... Not what I expected him to be," he admitted, jaw clenching behind the respirator as he dwelled on the fact.

"My Master was a hunter. As am I today," he continued. "They taught me... No, they showed me one fundamental truth about the universe: that there are two types of beings, from the largest of leviathans to the most microscopic of organisms. The hunters and the hunted. Predators and prey," he confided. "A simple enough premise, one might assume. Basic biology. And yet, it was the crux which sustained their entire philosophy, and upon which they meant to build mine own. However, I found a fundamental discrepancy in our outlook: they believed the perfect being... The Sith'ari, if you will, should, by definition, stand alone at the top. And although they acknowledged it, and even respected it... They did not believe in the power of the pack."

He looked down and to the left as some memory clearly played in his head. He seemed like he might have more he'd like to say on the matter, and yet, he did not waste the Emperor's time with philosophical musings, simply nodding in a solemn fashion as he got back to business.

"I shall serve you," he concluded, not bothering to marr the simple fact with an eloquent speech on the nature of his fervour or his dedication.

Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Empyrean]

"Good.", he said with a slight nod.​

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"I told you, you were intelligent."​

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Lightly he sank into the throne and allowed its mechanism to draw his pain and nature from him - falling deep into the confines of the runic seat. He closed his eyes, but Temerant would know his attention was still fully on him - and that in many ways, he could still be seen.​

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"Now, is there anything you would need of me? It is not often one can ask for the favor of the Emperor."​

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Darth Temerant​

 

[Darth Temerant]

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Temerant did not need to be prompted, seemingly understanding this was his cue to stand, which he did to his considerable height, hands linking behind his back as he adopted a stance that spoke of discipline and martial pride.

"I do not ask for things, my Lord. I earn them," he argued in response. "And as of yet, I've done nothing to gain such favour. I would not offer insult by making request from your personage on empty hands," he let him know plainly. "Even my temerity knows its limits."

"The question that needs asking is not what I need from my Lord... But what I can do for him."

Darth Empyrean