Upon a vision of the Galaxy's swirling vortex, they weren't even a speck of the cosmic dust that could be combed through. One would have to have prior knowledge of region, sector, planet positioning from the system's home star, and planetary grid coordinates just to pick up the enflamining space station as the atmosphere of Nespin threatened to swallow of it up. But to look through the Force, one could see the center of the darkened storm growing from its location no matter how the magnification.
And within its calm and serene center, sat this group of Sith from all walks of life and afterlife, Dictum there to bare witness and testify.
Whether philosophy, or designation, or whatever topic was mentioned in this moment was of little consequence upon the Force's itinerary. For in this moment, they made it their will with concentrated power, the outcome no different than what they allowed. They were Masters of their own destiny, and the Force was only a mere pawn. For this was the truth of the Darkside, the truth of the Sith, and not even the Jedi could do anything to stop it.
As the others came to agreement of exiting the station, Dictum's gaze shifting between each as they spoke, he simply nodded when it came his turn to interject. The vacuum of space was on the verge of threatening their livelihood and the dead stood upon the precipice, guiding them to safety. As the others began their trek, so did Dictum, using the Force filled hysteria to propel himself, a simple and yet complex unification of push versus pull, and allowing those with weapons to handle the onslaught of opposition.
It wasn't until they had nearly reached their destination when a familiar sing-song presence reached out to the young Sith, causing his momentum to stop if only briefly as curiosity took a momentary hold upon his psyche. There, within the confines of barracks, hidden within a tucked away locker were his things, a memory of his own arrest flashing back through his mind.
Upon Alpheridies, a former member of the Luka Sene with silver hair folded away atop his crown assaulted the Orligaric Council with twin Sith Swords that ached for their deaths.
Shaking the moment from his mind and focusing his rage, Dictum called out to their blades and what remained. When the group arrived at the ship, Dictum would be in tow, his possessions reclaimed.