Reclamation

[Vrak Nashar]

Dromund Kaas
Kaas City

Vrak stood quietly on one of the many Balconies within the heart of New Kaas City. His gaze slowly swept over the rising spires of the metropolis before him.

They had taken Kaas only a short few weeks ago, conquered the world and stripped it of the small parcels of Jedi that still remained. In that short time thousands had been brought to the world. Slaves, citizens, Sith. All of them had flocked to what had once been the greatest Capital of the Old Empire. Vrak watched them now, wandering through the city below as they joined in with the celebration.

Today had seen the reveal of the Spires of Victory.

It was rare for Sith to Celebrate much of anything, even more rare to allow their people to do so, but the conquest of Kaas was something everyone within the Empire could appreciate. For decades this world had been ravaged and broken apart by the Silver Jedi Order, and now it was back in the hands of it's proper inheritors.

Vrak appreciated the sight at the very least. When he had been born the idea of Dromund Kaas once again being held by Purebloods had seemed an impossibility, but now? Now here he was. A small smiled touched his lips, and the troubles that he'd learned of just a few days ago were momentarily forgotten. The Council of course was taking this opportunity to expand its reach, already they had taken up residents within the Citadel and soon each of the Councilors would hold their own estates upon Kaas itself.

He suspected many Sith would follow in the same path.

The Sith Lord turned from the balcony, addressing one of the Red Guards in the corner of the room. "Ensure the Legion's stay vigilant."

Vrak told the man.

"We have only taken this world, it wouldn't surprise me if the Jedi attempted something." With what had happened on Malachor he wouldn't be surprising if anyone tried something.

Though then again, that was in their nature.

 

[Caid Centurion]

Sphere of War Spire
The Citadel
Dromund Kaas

Caid's silver-green gaze remained intently focused on the visage of Lord Drakash. It had been only a couple weeks since Caid's last visit to the planet, three or so weeks since he'd accompanied invasion forces assigned to one of the principal objectives. When word of Vorenus' demise had finally circulated to the Councilor of War, he'd promptly summoned Caid to his office on Dromund Kaas. Well...a nameless, faceless proxy had summoned Caid.

For the last ten minutes, Caid had been staying completely still, hands clasped behind his back...simply waiting for the Councilor to speak.

Another fifteen minutes passed.

"Veritas... Otherwise known as Caid Centurion, it would seem."

Caid's eyes had mostly glazed by this point. He said nothing.

Drakash tented his hands on top of his desk, yellow eyes seemingly burning into Caid's soul. "Do you not speak?"

Caid's voice stretched forth in the tongue of the Ancient Sith. "I do, Mi'lord."

Drakash's face was impassive. "I see. You will forgo the name Veritas. Stick to your real name...unless there is some reason you feel the need to hide. Is there?"

"No, Mi'lord."

Drakash narrowed his eyes for a moment before slowly nodding his head. "Very well. Now there is the matter of Vorenus. He was a very senior member of this military. His loss is not so easy to replace."

Caid stiffened slightly, but he said nothing.

"Speak."

Caid was silent for a moment. "He killed himself."

Drakash arched a curious brow. "He...killed himself? So you deny having defeated the man at his home?"

"Lord Vorenus started killing himself the day he stopped trying to improve, to constantly strive for the best version of himself. He settled and therefore he killed himself. I merely cut out the cancer that was Vorenus before he could spread any further throughout the Empire."

Drakash was silent for several moments before a smirk settled on his features. "The Empire and, more importantly, my domain has use of such inclinations."

"I did it only because it needed to be done. His weakness, by extension and association, was mine, and I do not abide weakness any longer."

Drakash's smile slowly faded as he came to his feet. Walking around to the front of his large desk, Drakash stood, slightly shorter than Caid. "Kneel."

The young marauder did was he was instructed, dropping to a knee and lowering his head.

"There once was a time when this was a grander affair. I, however, do not believe in excess. Further more, this is the only acknowledgment of success you will likely receive from me... Lord Centurion."

Caid raised his head slowly, largely unaffected by the words. Titles...certain titles did have meaning within the Empire, but it was not Caid's immediate quest. For now, he only desired access to knowledge, training, and the means to be better, stronger. The game of thrones that occupied the minds of most, did not occupy Caid's mind.

"I am reassigning you and advancing you to the rank of General. You will report directly to me in whatever tasks that I require." Drakash paused. "Vorenus was once where you are. See to it you do not end up where he is."

As Drakash waved dismissively at Caid, he came to his feet. Pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head, the newly minted Sith Lord exited the office and proceeded down the corridor.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Royal Dungeons, The Imperial Citadel
Kaas City, Dromund Kaas
Stygian Caldera, Outer Rim

Unimaginable agony.

It filled both his days and his nights until so long deep under the earth of this world he had bled to help reconquer robbed him of all sense of time and the pain robbed him of everything else. Slowly, with the patience of victors, they broke him down into his component parts. Day by day, hour by hour, until there was no longer anything but the torture. Allowed only to rest for just along enough so that his body would not break down completely under the treatment, in the frigid dank silence of these precious moments Zarek hanged suspended by the impenetrable cuffs that both kept him secured to the containment field and disrupted his innate connection to the Force.

Receding into himself, he knew it was only a matter of time before they broke him completely, and he lost all touch with reality. Then he would tell them anything and everything, including those things he really shouldn't. For much of his first day here, he had fought and bled alongside those who now held him captive against their natural and ancient enemies, the Jedi. And yet, a stranger to this Resurgent Empire, this was his reward at the end of it all. Overwearied as he was by all the bloodletting, Aeterno had been surrounded by far more massassi than he could have ever hoped to vanquish even if he had been hale and hearty and forced to surrender.

Somewhere along the line as the Sith Knight and now prisoner was passed from one series of captors to another and the cogs of Sith Imperial bureaucracy turned, he had begun to be held less with cautious uncertainty, and more like a disdained prisoner of war. Under the pretense of a medical evaluation, his escorts had doped him with a sedative, and when he had woken up he had found himself in the same chamber he was now, caught in the arachnid's web of the containment field. The torture had commenced soon after. Electrocution, burning, drowning, prying inside his mind looking not just for secrets but childhood memories to use against him, there were times when Zarek had to applaud their creativity despite enduring a new type of misery.

He would not last much longer, the human Knight of a now long lost empire had enough sense to know that at least. There would come a time when his patience with these proud Sith would reach its limits, and he would have to make his move. Several weeks after his crash landing and aid in the liberation of Dromund Kaas, and with no sign of fairer treatment near on the horizon, he finally did. They knew they had captured a Sith, or at least a pretender to the claim, but they did not know that he was also a master engineer. It had taken him hours of effort to conjure up enough clear force of will through the cloud of the containment cuffs, and for a time there was a very real fear he had held out too long and would be trapped until he broke, but after straining to his absolute limit the Sorceror launched a surgical strike through the Force at the cell's most vulnerable components.

The field flickered, just for a moment, but it was all he needed. Aeterno's cuffs shattered violently, sending durasteel shrapnel pinging around the small room, and as he dropped to the dungeon floor he smiled a wicked smile. It was time now to see someone about some better accommodations.

 

[Arage Bao]

D R O M U N D | K A A S​

The girl was leaning on the balcony of Locks' apartment, gawking and watching with amazement at the mass of people moving through the streets of Kaas City.

They were celebrating and the joy was bright in the atmosphere for once.

For the first time in decades the Sith were once again in control of their throne world, it was perhaps not surprising, then, that the Sith Council had allowed the people some time to celebrate this. An outlet for the pent-up energy and fervor to express themselves after the defeat of the Jedi occupiers.

But for some reason Kala couldn't join them in their merriment.

Not with the thoughts spinning through her mind.

Yesterday Locks had gathered them both together in the library and explained to them that change was about to come for them. He had kept them secluded and separated from the larger order, until he could determine if they were worthy of his time and the time of the many Sith Lords. Perhaps Yavin was the mission that showed him that they weren't useless and could pull their weight. Either way, the Miraluka Sith explained quite patiently that they were due to pick a caste for themselves.

A decision that would determine their path for the rest of their life, so to speak.

It should have been done earlier, but their exit out of slavery had been unorthodox. It seemed clear from where Kala was standing which path she would pick, which path [member="Kuraii"] would be most likely to pick.

But the Devaronian didn't want to cement it.

Not while believing that it would separate them.

 

[Ao Xian]

The Trianii was, as usually, a bit less concerned about the details. Her own path forward, when Locks had presented them, seemed obvious. She was no scholar, no diplomat. She had little interest in power beyond that which she used to protect what mattered to her. In truth, she was fairly ambivalent toward the entire culture surrounding the sith in general. Outside of 'hunter' and 'prey', Kuraii didn't have much use for artificial categories. So this? This was just one more thing that the monkeys liked to do to make the world fit more comfortably around them.

She would go along with it. There was little reason not to, and too many reasons that made it worth it.

But she wasn't going to be distressed by it either.

Dropping to all fours as she entered the balcony, Kuraii padded over to [member="Kala Maedrin"]. In this position, she could bump her great shaggy head against the girl's shoulder before sitting beside her. Golden eyes peered down at the hullabaloo below, head cocking slightly to the side as she considered it. When Kala leaned against her, she stayed steady as a warm, furry stone.

"You are worried," she rumbled, the sound emanating from deep in her chest. "You do not need to be."

 

[Arage Bao]

Kala scritched [member="Kuraii"] behind her ear just like the lioness enjoyed it.

"I didn't say anything." She pointed out, but even to her it sounded a touch petulant, because her friend was right. The worry was churning inside her stomach and making a deep pit there. But it didn't surprise her that it wasn't touching Kuraii whatsoever, she had always been the one who simply took everything as it was and moved ahead with that. No time for worry, no point in it, she would point out... what's done was done and they just had to move on with it.

But that didn't help the Devaronian right now.

"How can you not be worried?" The question came after a while, nuzzling softly the warm and pleasant fur for a moment, before returning to the people-watching beneath. "They are going to separate us!"

There didn't seem to be any grand plot to avoid it either.

Kuraii was clearly a warrior and would join the caste of Massassi, while she was destined for the Kissai. They could just leave... but Kala didn't want to. They were growing stronger by the day, the teachings of Locks giving them valuable insight, the training strengthening her body in ways she didn't know was possible.

This was where they belonged, wasn't it?

"I don't see a way out." The girl quietly said, before leaning into Kuraii.

No tears, that hadn't ever been Kala's way. Worry? yes. But with a purpose, to figure out the best way to circumvent a situation that wasn't acceptable.

Tears were useless.

 

[Ao Xian]

Kuraii snorted derisively.

Drawing her head back from Kala's scratching hand, she caught the girl's eyes with her own golden gaze.

"There is no separating family, Kala," she rumbled low in her throat. Stripped tail lashed back and forth, the lazy contented movements of a great cat at peace. She shook her fur out casually, yawning wide and long.

"Think. Use that brain. Fear is talking, see clearly. What are they truly doing? Putting names. Labels. Telling us that, now we are to be called this thing or that thing. But here is our secret Kala."

Kuraii reached out with paws almost as big as the girl's head to, very gently, grasp her by the shoulders.

"It changes nothing," the Trianii said with a grin. She didn't normally smile at Kala- after all, for the great cat, a smile wasn't the same thing as it was for a human. It was a sign of aggression, of determination (mostly aggression in truth, but not in this case, aimed at her).

"They can only change us so far as we will allow them to," she rumbled, face returning to a more neutral, relaxed expression. "And I am not going anywhere. Are you?"

[member="Kala Maedrin"]

 

[Arage Bao]

The smile might have worried or scared anyone else, but Kala drew strength from it with no hesitation.

It was a promise, an oath that no matter what that [member="Kuraii"] would be her shield. That they would stick together no matter what.

Regardless of what some dusty robes had to say about it. For a moment Kala was silent, before nodding quickly and then quickly pushing in for a hug, hiding her face in the warm, soft fur that had cushioned her for so long, when time and place worked against them. It was the one place in the galaxy that Maedrin felt completely safe.

"Neither am I." Kala whispered, before casually disentangling herself and re-assuming her position near the balcony. The procession of sentients had continued its path.

They turned a corner almost as one and disappeared out of view.

"Have you heard? There are whispers of a new campaign." Kala had been eavesdropping at one of Locks' meetings. It had become clear rather quickly that the Miraluka was more than he gave himself out to be. Already clear from the beginning, but only underlined once she had realized who he was meeting, casually.

Members of the Sith Council frequenting his abode and him speaking to them as... friends?

Difficult to gauge the tone.

"They say the Empire will march soon again and Locks is sending us too."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid was largely unaffected by the events that had transpired in Lord Drakash's office. Intuitively, he knew that a rather significant hurdle had been overcome, but it didn't much change the reality of his present situation. He was still a weapon...still subordinate to others. The sum quantity of his potential would be something that forever remained, and he preferred to accept each successive day as a new opportunity to excel.

Turning down an adjacent corridor, a cold, suffocating feeling abruptly gripped the young Sith. Instinctively, Caid reached out a steadying hand and place it firmly against one of the walls of the corridor. His heartbeat rose significantly as the sweeping sensation of death washed over him. It wasn't merely the awareness of passing life forces around him. Naturally, Caid was quite familiar with that phenomenon. Instead...it was almost as if he was experiencing the death himself. A pain clutched around his heart, but he couldn't say that he exactly recognized the depth of the emotion. Then there was a searing pain in his hands and chest until suddenly...nothing.

Having slammed his eyelids shut during the ordeal, Caid slowly opened them once the moment had passed. The Sith silently chided himself for not keeping up with his training in mental defenses or, at least, not paying enough attention to them in the moment. Exhaling heavily, he lifted his gaze to the end of the corridor before initiating a more measured pace. While there were still things he needed to attend to on Dromund Kaas, in the back of his mind he knew he would be paying a visit to First Order space before long.

He rather refused to believe that Cameron Centurion had managed to let himself be conquered by something as insipid as love.

 

[H3xle]

Jungles of Dromund Kaas
Construction of a Temple

Clouds covered the sky, casting the world into an eternal twilight lit by near constant arcs of lightning joining the clouds, with the occasional arcing to the ground. The jungle around Braemara was full of life, though none of it came near the group moving towards the construction site. The closer they got, the clearer the noise from the construction became, slowly overtaking the noise of the lightning strikes hitting the ground. The feel of the dark side permeated the area, though it was an old, nearly forgotten feeling, ancient. It was held within the ground. Within the trees. It even shaped the animals in the area. The workers at the construction site were a mix of modern engineers and practitioners of the force, imbueing the new building from the very foundations with the dark side of the force.

Braemara moved to the side of the path through the jungle, moving out of the way and letting the rest of the patrol pass by. She closed her eyes and let her senses push outward. She could feel something moving closer through the jungle, moving through the trees with a stealth born of both natural skill and force altered ability. A glance to the other warriors in her patrol showed that only some of them felt it. The others were either too focused on returning to the construction site or otherwise occupied with their thoughts.

"Ware left." She spoke aloud, but not shouting. Then she turned towards where the creature approached and drew her lightsaber from a hip sheath and ignited it. Her body slid easily into a ready stance as a Swampa, dark yellow eyes burning as they locked onto Braemara, lunged out of the darkened jungle with an ear splitting roar. Braemara shifted slightly, turning as she did so the Swampa missed by a hairs breadth and struck out with her lightsaber in the same motion. The darkly altered creature somehow dodged it in midair, rolling into the mud on the other side of the trail and vanishing into the foliage. Braemara moved to slip into the jungle after the creature, unafraid of the darkness or the mud. A lightning strike illuminated the jungle for a moment, revealing a humanoid figure moving laterally to the trail, painted in dark tribal paint, and invisible to Braemara in the force. The sight stopped her in her tracks for a moment, and the jungle returned to darkness.

Braemara stepped back, moving into a low guard position so she could respond to an attack from any direction. The glowing red of her lightsaber casting a dim glow on the trees of the jungle around her. She slowly turned in a circle, eyes and ears open to the trees around her and the sky above, wary for any attack.

A surge in dark emotions from behind her was the only warning to the attack, a blade slid out of the darkness, and it took every iota of speed and skill to interpose her lightsaber in time. The blade stopped a hairsbreadth from her body before flying away, the fingers that had held them severed. Braemara was already in action, though, her right foot kicked out, snapping into the side of the knee of her assailant. The wet crack of a broken knee was drowned out by yet another crash of lightning hitting the ground nearby, but her opponent remained silent as he fell to the ground, grasping his knee to his chest, the lower portion of his leg twisted at an odd angle.

With a contemptuous flick of her wrist, her lightsaber sliced through the mans throat and quiet took the jungle. Braemara looked to her companions and raised an eyebrow. She deactivated her lightsaber with a thought, and stowed it away as she pointed to one of the lower ranking warriors.

"Bring him." She said, then moved on towards the construction site.

 

[Yaadri Osi-Yyn]

A soft breeze passed through the gates to Kaas City. He hadn't been to this planet before, though he had studied it's history. He understood what importance the planet had to the Empire. A sense of realisation of how much effort was placed into re-taking the planet. The Sith Pureblood, felt as if this were his second home and he'd only been here for... less than a day. It had lost most of it's dark presence, though that would easily be changed once the rest of the Empire arrives.

He disembarked his personal speeder, pushing it to the side before deactivating it remotely with a terminal built into his wrist. Glancing around, a slim smile would emerge from beneath his mechanical mask. "Lovely." Would leave his lips, continuing to take in the view of the vast city. Before he would storm forwards, his direction the center of the city. He wanted to meet someone, and he was going to get exactly that done. An impression had to be made, and a pitch for an idea along with that.

The city was vast, though he had the Force on his side. He extended his senses, searching for dark presences. Having an idea, he turned on his heels. A building was in his sights. A powerful being inside. He pushed the door's open, being greated by an essortment of red guards. A wave of his hands would dismiss them, before enterring a large room. Inside would be a fellow Sith Pureblood. "Apologies for interrupting, I've been dying to meet you." He exclaimed.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Mythos]

Location: Kaas City

It was good to be alive again...

One imperial transport courtesy of the nobles at Ankhypt arrived at the star port near two miles from the city of Kaas. Inside the transport a cloaked figure garbed in ancient robes tethered in Sith Runes that were not there for decoration was Mythos, resurrected Lord of the Sith. To keep his new body from collapsing due to the sheer power that the Sith lord contained his skin was covered with runes etched in the blood of sacrifices. The reason Mythos was here was quite simple, he had heard of the Empire deep in the corners of the outer rim and lost space, he had heard of familiar names and the capital city of Kaas and he sought out to carve his way into the faction in his own way. He had things to do, missions and quests to undertake but this deviation from his plans was not in any way a setback. He would need resources to undergo his plans, alliances and perhaps even soldiers for fodder... certain things needed to happen. One name stood out from all the rest, one name he was here to put a face on: [member="Vrak Nashar"]. Mythos walked from the port of the ship, flanked by two massive guards from the world he had resurrected from armed with vibroblades typical of the planet. The greeting he received at the entrance of the starport assured him he was expected. "Good..." He said under his lips. The world had just recently been conquered, from the silver jedi no less. They would be foolish not to have stalwart security and firepower at places like the starport vetting any who would visit, requested or otherwise. This was good, it meant that the Resurgent Empire was on top of things... They knew what they were doing, that was not always the case with infant empires.

He was lead to a transport speeder, luxurious looking thing by the looks of it but before he headed down he waved his personal guards to stay with the ship. He did not need any protection. Walking with the aid of a wooden staff carved from Ankhyptian wood and adorned with fine jewels the Sith Lord made his way to the transport and the driver sped off to his destination: the Spires of Victory. The trip through the heart of the planet was as if Mythos had never left the One Sith. the Imagery, the design and the architecture was almost identical in every way. The slaves wandered about guarded and the streets seemingly impeccable due to their work. the population brought a smile to his lips... Sith Purebloods. "About time you returned... your race has much work to do" He said to himself, grabbing one of the deathsticks in the back of the speeder and blasting a spark of sith lightning to ignite it's tip. He thought for a second that it might be poisoned but death did not scare him at all, it never did. It wasn't long before he was outside the spires and not too long away from the home of the being he searched for. He stepped off the speeder and stood, like a relic of a stone age among a city of the future... like a mummy walking again.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8zqvN3PaTs4
"Let's make a scene"

Mythos began to walk. Each step he took dismantling some ornamental cloth he wore which was meant to keep the signature of the force hidden from those around him. His cloak also served a similar purpose, the sands of the deserts of Ankhypt were almost stitched to the fabric of his cloth and as he loosened his clothes sand began to twirl around him by an act of sorcery. The sandals he wore were more akin to wrappings, along his entire body were cloth bandages with sith runes drawn with blood that eased the use of the dark side of the force. Well into his stride he began to turn heads and alert those who would take notice. His eyes began to shine as he took a look into the sky and took note of the balcony he aimed for, a good one hundred stories high and even more... no, definitely more. As the security began to close in on him Mythos bent his knees while looking up and used the ability which he most enjoyed: Force Flight.

Like a tornado of sand and brutality Mythos blasted into the sky, his wrappings becoming undone and the sight of him being something of a bygone era of Sith Lords lost to time. As he approached the balcony he steadied his flight to a levitation and stood, in mid air, a good yard or two from the railings of the balcony. The Red Guards already on their job flanked him at both sides and began to call in to report the occurrence probably already informed because of the 'show' he put on on his arrival. The Wooden staff orbiting around him while in mid air and the wind whipping the wrappings around his body Mythos smiled confidently to the Sith lord. "Greetings... I hope i did not cause a disturbance" Thunder ended his sentence and the flashing of yellow eyes accentuated who he was: A Sith lord.
​

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Rakosh Saqai"] | [member="Mythos"]

Vrak raised an eyebrow as the young Sith stepped into the room.

He hadn't really expected company, though this was hardly a closed chamber. On a day of celebration like this he should have expected it in some form, and in truth he didn't mind the flattery that he received. Every Sith enjoyed to have their ego stoked now and again, Vrak was no exception. The Sith Lord smiled slightly, motioning for the Red Guard to stand aside for the time being so that he could converse with the young man that had stepped into the room.

"Most are." He stated simply.

The Pureblood couldn't help it really, ego came as easily to him as did breathing. It was who they were as a people, not simply just a culture. They were born for greatness, born for more. "Perhaps it's fortuitous we meet today."

After all, Kaas would bring many new opportunities.

The Sith Lord motioned for the other man to follow, moving towards the hall and passed two of the Red Guard. He didn't intend to stay trapped inside of this chamber throughout the night, certainly not when other celebrations were to be had, though a sudden crackling of energy interrupted his step. Vrak raised his arm, his lips thinning as the air suddenly burst apart and...something slithered free. His eyes narrowed for just a moment, and then a man spoke.

For a second Vrak appeared startled, his eyes focused, his gaze dropping to the mans form. For a few seconds he attempted to process exactly what had just happened, and then a second later he did what came naturally.

"Kill him." Perhaps an overreaction, but it was very Sith.

In an instant the Red Guard stepped forward towards the new arrival.

 

[Yaadri Osi-Yyn]

A slim smirk grew across the Red Sith's face, at Vrak. He enjoyed the presence of another his species, especially one as high-ranking as the Sith Lord before him. He aspired to be what he is. Though, he was almost certain he would do it. He nodded after each word, eventually replying with "Perhaps, on a day like this, I can only imagine good things will follow." Then swiftly coming to an end, following him into the hall with little delay.

A few moments later than Vrak, Rakosh noticed something was up aswell. It simply didn't seem right. Then, turning his head in reaction to the man speaking. He had not seen him before, though didn't care. The energy emitting from the man was noticeable, and as Vrak announced "Kill him." His hand lowered down to his lightsaber, taking a firm grip onto it. Somewhat channeling his energy in preparation.

It seemed as if a fight was about to unfold. The atmosphere was tense, weapons ready to be withdrawn. Though this mysterious being, was not welcome. Or atleast uninvited.

[member="Vrak Nashar"] | [member="Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

It would seem Mythos floated in the edge of the sky scraper almost without strain, it took some concentration in telekinesis to maintain his body afloat amidst the strong winds typical of such altitudes but telekinesis was his strongest and best trained ability, he did not show strain even though it was there. A wry smile crept across his face on the killing command, it was expected from Sith, if anything it boded well for their image and gave Mythos a confidence that coming here was indeed a good idea. He inched himself forward to place his feet on the railing of the balcony thus taking away the strain of telekinesis and allowing him to focus o something else... their minds. To dig into the mind of a Sith lord or even a sith knight was no simple task yet the red guards, the hostile entities closest to him, would be simple enough. He did not need to prod for his plan, a doppelganger was an ability he had learned early in his life as a Knight under Bane himself. The red guards would see him but not where he was, a simple illusion would make one red guard see the other red guard as Mythos and vice versa. The weapons they drew were now turned on each other, obedient they began to fight each other as if Mythos was not there anymore. Mythos' eyes now turned to the Knight and the Lord, arms stretched out in the universal symbol of 'I have no weapons'

"Now now is that any way to treat a guest?" His expression changed, from curiosity to a twitch of incredulity and anger. Could it be? They were leaders of a new a prominent power in the galaxy, had they not had history books? Had his name been erased? Did the battle of Atrisia become lost to time and history? How long had it been...? "You don't know who I am...do you?" His voice could be heard but his lips did not move, he spoke through the force itself to both the Sith Knight and the Sith Lord who now shared a room with him. Mythos did not wield weapons but he was confident that if he could not defeat whatever was launched at him he could at least deal significant damage and escape. Or so he hoped...
[member="Rakosh Saqai"] [member="Vrak Nashar"]​