An Awkward Meeting

[grammaticus]

The room was nice, Animus had to admit. Two servants stood by the door of the large chamber, their heads bowed and hands folded before them as they tried to keep their minds off the figure that stood by the window. The rest of the room was made up of a small table, a few chairs, and a massive bed and bath in a linked room. It was very grand, and very much fit into the general vibe he had gathered from this Palace. He despised most of it, but he kept that to himself. It was not the best idea to insult your host.

Turning away from the window, Animus made his way across the room, his hands folded behind him in the large sleeves of his robe. Within the sleeve were his two lightsabers, held to his arms in special gauntlets that he could activate and release at a moments notice. Laying on a table nearby was his Wraith Blade, the hilt ever directed towards Animus as he made his way around the room. His host had been nothing but gracious thus far, but he preferred not to take chances. He had left his old life behind, but he was still a wanted man as far as he knew. It always paid to be careful.

A knock at the door drew his attention. Turning slowly, he nodded to the two servants to open the door, curios to see who had come. Perhaps his host was ready to speak on what they wanted.

[member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Banshee]

She had knocked on his door, she wanted get ahead of emperor, and the consulate. They where both above her in sith rankings, one she respected the other she did not. She had arrived followed by two of the Palace Guards. These where best troops, but no match for anyone in the room. Their job was to stand attention outside the room, and make sure no one disturbed them. They would not enter ether, they only allowed to let handmaidens for serving if required, her the Emperor, the consulate as she technically could not stop the oaf, as well as their esteemed guest. Who she was going to arrest, but then found out he wanted out of the heretics sith empire. Then mode changed, and they had wine, and his guards where arrested.

She contacted her emperor to let him know what has happened, he was aware of the initial meeting and trap she was going to spring. Though like all true sith, she was pragmatis, and as the situation changed so did she. He was not an enemy now, but possible ally, even if he did not join their side. She decide to come with a menu, so he could order breakfast. She was dressed, in a black laced gown. She was not wearing the white makeup or the formal attire for this meeting, as it was in her palace, and the others would out rank her. As she entered, the menu was given to [member="Darth Animus"], so he could order what he wanted. The handmaiden would get it for him, Darth Banshee took a seat and asked him I hope you had a pleasant night sleep, and I hope the room was to your taste. Obviously, under the circumstances your honour guard have been detained. Though uninjured, their fate is in your hands, as they are your men. Though I don't know if loyal to you, or your former emperor, and don't wish to take the risk. Her tone was pleasant, and as polite as she could be under the circumstances. She did not believe loyal people should just die, for being loyal to the wrong person.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Reconciliation.

A word that might look a tad queer when paired with the Sith. It was a common misunderstanding that the Sith were nothing more than villainous opportunists that would betray their own kin if it meant that they could amass just the tiniest scrap of power for themselves, a picture painted over the tens of centuries by not only the Jedi but the Sith themselves in their selfish vainglorious quest for personal power. It was a sickening legacy, one that the current Sith were desperately trying to overcome.

But these bouts of infighting, these heretical uprisings on the fringes of galactic civilization.

They were nuisances, distractions, and misdirections of effort.

The Emperor of the Sith grimaced, a common reaction when his mind dwelled on such unpleasantries. Yet, the servants at his side paid his visible change in expression no mind, they were wholly transfixed on applying the final alterations to his garb so that he may look presentable to the guest of his servant, Darth Banshee. Loose blue silken trousers were affixed around his legs and waist, held firm by a metal and cloth haramaki that covered up his groin and three-fourths of his stomach. The bottoms of his trousers were tucked into black synth-hide boots, buckled with aurodium studs that glimmered in the right light. A tunic of silk covered his broad muscular chest and was likewise tucked into the top of his haramaki.

Hanging from his shoulders was an open robe of the finest armorweave, intricate patterns weaved with actual aurodium over a glossy black finish. A single curved lightsaber hung loosely from his hip, the only visible weapon the Emperor would provide for this meeting of once enemies. Waving away his servants, the Emperor of the Sith Empire began his journey towards the guest's room, a pair of Crownguard flanking him as he emerged from his own chamber. A short single message would be transmitted to Banshee to alert her of the Emperor's impending arrival.

[member="Darth Animus"] | [member="Darth Banshee"]​