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Cipher Nine

Star Wars
Posts
23
Age
24
Race
Chiss
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Lawful Neutral
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December 13th, Year 109 ~ @Darth Imperius
Apparently, rumors traveled fast throughout the Cosmic Wilderness and action happened faster. From what Nine had been looking into, there was a Sith Lord who had appeared in some colonies in the vast expanses of the cosmics who was quick to enforce their own order among the people.

She hardly knew much about whoever this Sith Lord was aside from their name: Darth Imperius. Never in her life had she encountered someone with that title. Still, though, it was better than searching aimlessly for a purpose in this abnormal galaxy. It was the first signs of the Sith Empire she could find, and she would be damned if she were to not check it out.

Though, all things considered, Nine had to be wary about the truth regarding this appearance. It could easily have been some stuck up Sith pretending to be a Darth for reputation only since there was little ways to verify it unless there were people who knew you by your face. A bit of information Nine certainly kept in mind, as always, but it hardly bolstered confidence that this would result in anything worthwhile.

Aboard her starship, she uncloaked the vessel as she drew nearer to the colonies, glancing over at her radar before positioning herself over a landing pad. It hardly seemed as if it were that wealthy or populated of a colony compared to most of the cosmic wilderness she had so far investigated, but there was enough to where she should proceed with caution.

Landing the vessel securely, she knew she had to waste no time getting off of the ship. Outside her window, she already saw some barbaric, yet poor, looking folk approaching the vessel, likely out of curiosity, probably to discover who was awaiting them. Not a warm embrace of a welcome, she assumed.

Already dawned in her uniform, she stood up from the captain's seat, grabbing her helmet and placing it over top her tied up hair, allowing the helmet to properly seal shut and hide away her blue face. Pistol resting along her belt and over her belt spat, she approached the exit of her ship, releasing the lock to allow for her ship's stairs to extend down to the planet's surface below.

Stepping off of her vessel, she was immediately approached by two less than trustworthy individuals. One seemed far more eager to pull the trigger than the other, but still, her eyes glued to both of them. "Who are you?" The gung ho grunt snarled, aiming his rifle up at her.

"The Red Blade," Nine replied without her accent, assuming her guise. It was a more dated identity from where she hailed from, but in this new galaxy, it was fresh and likely would remain that way unless the real Red Blade was dragged into this mess and retained his identity. "I have business with Imperius," She stated, which the gung ho grunt that elected to do any interactions responded to by tightening his grip on his rifle. "None involving killing or shooting, mind you, though I may have some business of that nature with someone who points a gun at me."

For a few moments, nothing happened, and Nine continued to keep her eyes on the man who was obviously trying to scare her, but Nine knew she had the advantage. Training, mental capacity, the truth of who she was: all things she could use to her advantage to overcome him if necessary; however, if what she heard of Darth Imperius was true, then it was more than just moral reason to try and avoid firing on them outright. If she planned to see if she could make an ally out of Imperius, then keeping their men alive was a good idea.

At last, the man budged, lowering his weapon and groaning. "Alright... Come with us," He growled, motioning for Nine to follow behind him. Turning around, he became Nine's tour guide, supposedly guiding her to wherever she would be able to encounter Imperius.

With any luck, this meeting and investigation would turn out fine, but time still was unfolding before her and the true identity of Darth Imperius was unknown.

It was time to find out.

 
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Darth Imperius

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The Force had clearly been with Imperius, for how fortuitous it was that she - and her ship, strangely enough - had landed in this world in a colony supposedly far from any real civilisation; a colony that did what was necessary to survive, without morals or scruples. They were not exactly Imperius' type, so lawless and chaotic for the sake of it, but they would do. They had been full of hot air and bluster, bravado and aggression, at first, but it had been simple to bring them into line. Force them into line.

And now the entire colony of misfits and criminals did her bidding, no matter how they chafed at the order and the rules that she heavily imparted upon them. Chaos was all well and gone, but only if it served a higher purpose. And for them, she was that higher purpose.

Few newcomers and strangers came out here, so the arrival of a sleekly beautiful starship cruising into the breathable bubble that surrounded the small planet set the rough inhabitants ablaze with rumour and suspicion. That the newcomer had business with their Sith leader was even more suspicious, but the criminals feared their Master more than they feared what this Red Blade could do to her. And so, they took the Blade to her.

Imperius had been informed that someone had arrived on business, and had moved to her audience chamber, dark and austere, the most notable object within being the oppressively tall chair, positioned as a throne. Indeed, it bore some resemblance to the seats of the Dark Council in Dromund Kaas. Imperius had been stolen away before she'd been able to sit on it for very long, so she had bid one be created. She doubted there were any other Dark Lords around to know, and the power to sit in such a seat was hers.

She sat there, as imposing as the seat itself and as imperious as her newly-bestowed name suggested. Her face was hidden behind Kallig's mask, slender body tightly wrapped in robes of black, red and silver, loose hood up and framing the skull-like appearance of the mask. Hidden, her eyes were fixed on the door, as it opened and one particularly trigger-happy minion stepped inside, bowing - awkwardly and badly - so low his nose almost touched the floor. She was mildly surprised that he had refrained from shooting the newcomer long enough to bring her - at least, though the figure was masked, the curves suggested a female - here.

Behind her own mask, Imperius frowned, taking in the uniform. She knew an Imperial when she saw one, though she supposed in this world, from everything she had heard, the clothes might not mean Imperial at all.

"Master, this one says she is--" the man began, but Imperius held up a hand. No other movement, just that, but he stopped as though she had threatened him with death if he continued. Not that she would be so crass.

"The Red Blade," Imperius intoned, voice mechanical and cold as it issued from her mask. "Yes. Word reached me before you did." A sharp comment, suggesting that he had taken too long. The black eyeholes of her mask never left the Blade's visor. "The Red Blade is a mercenary name, unless I miss my guess. What need do I have of a mercenary?"
 
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Cipher Nine

Star Wars
Posts
23
Age
24
Race
Chiss
Alignment
Lawful Neutral
Profile
link
Immediately upon stepping into the chamber after the bumbling guard made a nosedive of a bow, Nine could feel the dark presence oozing from within. Not necessarily a presence of corruption, but... the feeling she felt down her spine whenever she walked through the Imperial Citadel along her way to Imperial Intelligence's headquarters. The aura that the Sith left in a room after they made it their own. For such a cold feeling, it had the warm embrace of familiarity wrapping itself around Nine.

Her helmet focused itself forward, staring up at the figure on the throne, as her eyes scanned what was before her. A robed woman, seated in a throne that reeked of power. It vaguely reminded her of the Dark Council in the way she proposed herself, though that could merely be a coincidence. She was almost entirely confident that this woman must have been Sith...

...But perhaps the identity of Darth Imperius was already known to Nine, despite the countless amount of the Sith who would establish themselves in such a way. She knew that mask they bore. That was the mask of someone who she had a few encounters with in her past.

Kallig.

There was no mistaking it. That mask was no ordinary mask- it was a sign of her legacy. It was far too unique in design for it to slip away from Nine's mind, especially in association with the person who bore it upon her face.

She kept herself still and composed as Kallig looked down upon her after her interruption of one of the men who brought her to the chamber. This was far from a situation akin to facing Darth Jadus. She wasn't in opposition to the Sith sitting in the throne in front of her, so Nine dared not falter now.

"...Perhaps not a mercenary," A thick, Imperial accent sounded from the helmet, contrasting heavily from the voice the men beside her heard earlier, "But, instead, an ally from your past. I can only hope you recognize me after our past collaborations, my Lord. Intelligence hasn't forgotten you."

The Cipher had a small smile beneath her helm, but its screen left her facial features and expression up to the imagination. "With your blessing, we may speak further of this privately. No one in this room other than you and I have any need to be present for this, I'm sure."


 
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