Thu Dec 27, 2012 7:09 am by Caed Maas
*The five ships descended swiftly paying no heed to the traffic that flitted around above the city, cruising on near-silent engines punctuated with the occasional sonic boom. The yacht in the lead, four fighters slightly behind and to each side, they cruised into the spaceport and landed on the ferrocrete floor in a deserted hangar purposely made ready for their arrival. The Yacht rested on its hardstand and lowered its ramp as the fighters hovered protectively for a moment before settling down also.
Arrayed before the ramp was a row of honour guard, the local governor and military commander stood in front of them, the former wearing a worried frown, the latter a stoic look of disgust.
The Governor was called Peth Merta, a man in his late forties with a receding hairline and too much weight for one of his diminutive height. Nervous by nature this occasion had pushed him to the point where he had a permanent tick in his right eye. Dressed in flamboyant robes he would have looked dashing if not for his portly build and terrified expression.
The other figure was the opposite in almost every way. Of towering height and thin as a rake General Draast was the military commander of Gyndines forces, both naval and army. His expression of disdain was due to his dislike of how the new regime circumvented his authority and of sorcerous types the galaxy over. A career soldier he neither felt intimidated nor in awe of the Lord from the Dark Tide and wore his bruised ego openly like a festering sore.*
*With a dramatic hiss of steam booted feet appeared on the ramp, striding down it with slow, even footfall. Knee-high boots, polished to a brilliant sheen, were followed by dark blue trousers, so dark they appeared black and glossy. Lighter blue tunic belted at the waist, purple hip cloak and finally the darkly angular face set in a sardonically attentive expression. His hair was slicked back like some kind of rock star and the pale features, though schooled to modicum of serenity, still appeared murderous and demonic.
He stopped in front of the two representatives, no guard or aides just him, and cast his eyes briefly over the massed soldiers, a smile twitching at his lips.*
"Worried that I may cause a scene, Governor?"
*His voice was quiet, his accent clipped and studied.
Merta blinked his watery eyes for a moment, casting a glance at his colleague and horrified to see the General sneering at their guest. He stammered quickly hoping the Dark Lord didn't notice the ire in the military mans expression.*
=Merta=
"N..n..no my Lord. They are here for your honour..."
*He trailed off as Caeds burning amber gaze settled upon him.*
"My honour.... I wasn't aware that my honour needed a guard."
*H had, of course, noticed the dislike from Draast. It pulsed off him in waves, flooding the Force with the bitter taste of resentment and anger. Glorious. Caed couldn't give a Sithspit what the man thought though did toy with the idea of disemboweling him here and now. It was his assessment of Merta that stayed his hand. The fat idiot would no doubt feint and drag out Caed's presence here.
The man had paled so much that he was almost translucent as he gestured towards the government building.*
=Merta=
No, my Lord. Of course not. Your honour doesn't ne... I mean, I wouldn't kno... Um... This way please?"
*The bumbling man led him towards the offices, down the aisle formed by the ranks of soldiers. Caed studied them as he past and snorted softly. Not a true warrior among them and this peacock of a general would have to go too. More interested in looking sharp in his uniform than training his men...*
*Caed sighed as they disappeared inside, lamenting the amount of work he was faced with turning this planet into an adequate garrison for the Dark Tide...*