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No Stone Unturned, no Book Unburned [New Order Dominion of Cadomai Prime]

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#1
Juun Prax

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"A species that chooses its leaders based on drawings." Vulcanus growled, looking turning over a small painting in his hand "pitiful excuse for life, I will see to it that this species is exterminated." the Dark Lord growled, throwing the painting into an open fire that sat in the middle of the planet's capital city. 

 

 

"Why not kill them now?" The stormtrooper captain beside the beast questioned, looking around to the buildings. It was true, the Sith could have just easily crushed the species with military might and then put them into death camps. But that was too easy a fate for such a pitiful species. They must be made to suffer first, to lose what they loved in the name of peace just to realize it had been for nothing. It would intertwine the torture of mind, body and soul into one. This was the only proper punishment for the weakness that this species had displayed 

 

 

"In time, captain, in time. Prepare the shuttles to take us to Forela and check that the forces are prepared to conduct the raid" 

 

 

 

 


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#2
Engineer Six

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        What was it with pathetic lifeforms? You'd think that they would have learned something by know. Most species had evolved over time, advanced their technologies and beliefs. But some of 'em?... Well, they don't seem to learn a damn thing. We'd change that eventually. Anyone foolish enough to resist us would perish. Those that did not prove their strength would fall beneath our feet. For our empire is a mighty one. No room for weakness. None at all. The scars on my body were proof enough of that.


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#3
Josiah Denko

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Following the events that brought the world of Bosph under the control of the New Order, the Emperor's Apprentice spent some quality time with a Bacta Tank. Whilst submerged within the restorative waters, the clone had ample sums of time to contemplate and reflect upon all that had transpired. His Master was the definition of a monster...ruthless, cunning, and downright despicable. Yet he commanded unwavering loyalty from those who followed his reign and decimated his enemies with but a whim. Such was the relationship between Master and Apprentice; "One to Embody Power...and the Other to Crave It." And that is exactly what Ishmael felt from that day to the present: an undying lust for the power wielded for his Master. He sought to command armies and strike fear into the hearts of men; to burn all to ash and to sit upon the throne of Emperor! But in order to do that...first, he would learn.

As such, the clone stood at his rightful place: at the side of his Master. For now, he would play the role of a sword...but there had best be a lesson or two whilst he was waved about at hordes of enemies..."Master," he began, lowering his head out of respect, "How do you conjure fire through the Force?" The inquiry left his lips in that same, semi-sarcastic tone that always characterized the clone: the tone of defiance.

Darth Vulcanus

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#4
Rusken Shaxx

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Darth Pathollex chuckled soullessly at the artsy-fartsy society. His dark armored figure illuminated against the firelight of the burning painting. The colors began to melt and fade with the flame that foreshadowed yet another Imperial strike of assured, unmatched victory. This species was about to witness a strength unlike any other they had seen in the known galaxy and The Hunter almost felt some form of pity- rather, a better word would be amusement. It was almost too laughable to take seriously.

 

"And what defenses would we expect? A brush? Or perhaps they might blind us with even worse imagery?"

 

Another guffaw of condescending laughter erupted from the otherwise emotionally numb Jedi Hunter, he soon fell quiet and sighed softly as he looked to the monstrous leader of the New Order as if to understand any further discussion of ideas to conquer such a pathetic race.

 

Men, women, children... all will suffer and watch as I cut them apart one by one. Witnesses are my favorite...

 

Darth Vulcanus


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#5
Darth Carnifex

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Not far from the square a Blackblade Death Squad was executing a group of Snivvians that had attempted to resist their overlords, and spirit some of the heretical art away from the fires. The thrum of blaster fire rang throughout the air, and the bodies of at least a dozen aliens collapsed to the ground in a heap of charred flesh and blood. Their bodies would be thrown onto the pyre, the smell of burning flesh dominant above all to those without a breath filter. One such individual towered above the rest, clad in a black and crimson N.O general combat uniform with his ranks proudly displayed on his left breast for all to see, and he surveyed the destruction of heretical culture with a smirk of extreme satisfaction.

 

A BTI-WB Blas-Tech heavy blaster pistol was firmly gripped in his right hand, the muzzle of the weapon still smoldering from it's recent use to execute a Snivvian traitor, and in one fluid motion the individual sheathed the weapon on the holster on his hip. He then turned away from the small pure and strode to stand before Vulcanus at the central pyre, "The culture of these inferiors disgusts me, Vulcanus. My soldiers share my sentiment, and hunger to mete out justice."

 

Darth Vulcanus



#6
Arminius

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The Sixth Battalion - Aid on Cadomai Prime
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The pilot tapped away at the holographic visuals before him. Ignoring the devastation outside his cockpit. The Sixth Battalion, led by General Hallu and Commander May were out here to evacuate as many as they could on Cadomai Prime, and the precious artworks of the locals. Juliet Company with a detachment of five LAAT/i's descended into the atmosphere. Wrecked by fearsome AA battery fire. The vessel trembled by explosive detonations nearby. Narrowly the pilot avoided death, and the death of those on board. A voice crackled over the pilots open communication "This is Red Raven to Upright, I've been hit! I can't hold 'er, we're going down! I repeat, mayday, mayday. We're going do-" The transmission cut out. He heard the distinct sound of an exploding LAAT, it dove past his own. A fiery ball of crumpled metal, barrelling through the clouds and into the grasslands below. "We're approaching the LZ, it's gonna be hot! Get set to come out swinging'" Flight Officer Trayton called to the troops in the bay, including General Hallu. The LAAT thudded against the ground, he shouted over the comms "Touchdown! Hit it, troopers!"

General Hasjo Hallu of the Sixth Battalion, and Jedi Knight of the Silver Order regarded his men with pride. They were comforted by the Jedi's presence. One who had on numerous occasions clashed with the various Sith of the New Order. They heard the pilot announce the landing. The bay doors shot open, moonlight creeping into the bowels of the vessel. Stars twinkled high above, and fluffy clouds danced across the horizon. Long grass welcomed them outside those doors. "Pile out, go, go, go!" Hasjo ordered with a green, webbed, clawed hand. The troopers raced into the long grass. Directly into the line of fire. Blaster pieces tore through their white, armoured plating. Hasjo craned his neck, watching as their ticket off this planet retreated back into the clouds. He led his men down into a gully. There they would wait for word from Commander May and his fireteam. Troopers set to work, returning fire. 


@Darth Vornskr
@Darth Vulcanus
@Darth Pathollex
@Ishmael Verd
@Jek'ai Cyin



#7
Guest_Zes_*

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Over time most of the species of the galaxy had evolved, advancing there technology, this species was not as intelligent as that, they were weakness and the weakness must perish if this galaxy is going to survive, this was the way of the Sith. Zes had been on Bosph, he had killed and seen death, and done the same many times before that, this was going to be nothing to him. Just another walk in one of those walks in the past.

 

He entered the planet very much like the way he did on Bosph, in a dropship ready to fight if they had an attack, this time the battle was only just beginning and that was good, more bloodbath for Zes to feed from, the energy of taking someone's life away in something like this was just overwhelming for Zes, he spoke into a radio transmitter attached to his wrist "Hello? Hello, any Knights or Masters there that wanna order me to do something, yes? No? Nobody there? Going once, going twice, going three times and I am gone" Zes started walking to the square of the Capital city, ready to fight any of the locals along the way...



#8
Rafeesh

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Rafeesh had been dropped by ship into the outskirts of the city, though to him it was not even that. A huddle of houses and large buildings did not make a town into a city. In his mind a city was a place of power, where one could walk and see the strength of those who owned it in every place. From the outskirts to the center one should be able to see the influence and dominance of those in control. This was no such place, it was but a hive of wasps. The wasps which stood to annoy and pester those who showed power over them. And as all good and powerful men would do, he would squash these insects.

 

As Rafeesh moved through the outskirts he listened to the comm chatter idly, he heard one man ask for masters and whatnot then move on before anyone could say anything. He smiled, that was not something he had heard often in a long time. The last he had heard someone act like that was a battle on Balmorra against the Sith Empire. He had had to lead 4 squads of men into a large weapons manufacturing facility. One of the sergeants had quickly shown himself to be a loose cannon and had run on ahead of the main force. He and his squad had been killed, but Rafeesh had never forgotten them: Bisk Darj, Sergeant, Hisk Loiun, Corporal, then there was Nat Venm, Gatdem Harps, Lardesh Baken, Harry Kast, Job Henry, Hels Kactan, Yewlan Inugua, and Tarten Warsha. Those names even now reminded him of those days of the light and strength. Yet those days were gone...

 

He was tempted to reply, but fought it. They might meet in the outskirts, which he was moving through searching for any artwork or written books. He saw a relatively untouched building in front of him and prepared to enter.



#9
Gib

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I was waiting in a local eatery when the report of shots fired reached me. The timing couldn't have been worse. My ship had been restocked but not refuled. I could leave if I wanted but how far would I get if things were really getting dangerous. I could feel the dark energies on the world and the darker emotions begin to grow in the people as fear began to slowly spread. All my life I had known what the darkside felt like. I could practically smell it and I had to admit, it was intoxicating. I stood quickly and grabbed my pack. My force imbued blade hung from my hip and my gladiator assault rifle hung from my shoulder.

I pulled my rifle and held it in both hands with the muzzle down as I edged to the door. All I had to do was get to the starport. If I was lucky the refueling would be far enough along to get me to the next system and away from notice. My fear was that whoever the dark presences were would recognize a Vahla but I had to take a chance and try to escape.

Darth Vulcanus Jek'ai Cyin Ishmael Verd Darth Pathollex Hasjo Hallu Zes Darth Vornskr

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#10
Wilhelm Rykal

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Commander Rykal joined the death squad in preforming their dark work, a grin of sadistic pleasure on his face as he executed several locals lined up against a wall with his large blaster pistol. He then turned and joined the Blackblade commander speaking to Darth Vulcanus. ''These people are pathetic, but perhaps they may have their uses in my work.....have the captives rounded up and sent off to our research labs for experimentation, Commander, I must speak with the Emperor.'', he said, the Blackblade commander nodding and proceeding to speak with another officer.

 

''My lord, I have heard a rumor about this world I think you might be interested in. Around 7 ABY, three years after the first death of Emperor Palpatine at the Battle of Endor, this planet came in control of an Imperial Warlord known as Zsinj.....it is said he was close to discovering the location of a hidden vault here. A vault, one of many, owned by Palpatine himself.....it was never found, but it was said to contain great treasures, sith artifacts, prototype Imperial schematics.....it could prove an invaluable source of knowledge, my lord. I believe I may have put together the pieces Zsinj couldn't. With your permission, I request to take my taskforce and attempt to locate it...'', Rykal said with great seriousness. If he was correct, the New Order could indeed profit greatly from the contents of the vault.

 

Darth Vornskr

Darth Vulcanus

Ishmael Verd


Edited by Commander Rykal, 04 June 2014 - 01:59 PM.

In the end, we will be judged...not by what we have destroyed, but what we have created!


#11
Ella Nova

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The room setting was dark and quiet, where only the faint sounds of it's occupant breathing in and out in a slow rhythm, suggesting that they were asleep. The occupant was none other than Darth Ayra. Appearing in the center of the dark room gleamed a pair of yellow, sulfuric eyes. Almost gold in colour, they were. Memorizing, eerie.

 

Predatory.

 

Slowly, Ayra lifted herself in a sat up position. It was cold, so she leaned her back up against the wall, bringing her knees to her chest. Tucking a strand of her pale, blonde hair out of her eyes, she turned to look outside of her quarters and through the transparisteel window to her left. Her eyes were lain upon Cadomai Prime. That was why she was on board Darth Vulcanus's flagship. Ayra had been a present member of the Dark Lord's ship for so long, that now she had her own codes for gaining entry to and from the ship; and had been assigned her own quarters. She had made sure with the officer who controlled and maintained Vulcanus's Star Destroyer for him, when he was not around, that they were closest to the nearest escape pod; and at the same time, the hangar bay.

 

Averting her gaze from the window, the Sith Marauder wiped her dry mouth and slid her way out of the confines of her covers. Approaching the nearby sink, she selected a glass and poured herself three cups of water. She cleaned the spit and bit of skin that she had wiped away from her mouth before and then leaned herself on the edge, looking up at the mirror. "Maintain your focus. Pain is temporary, the Force shall free you." This was the ritual of Darth Ayra these days, since she had been poisoned by Stone Hermes. It held her together, gave her focus to find the cure that would rid her of the Resu's curse; and she had found it, eventually; and so, Ayra would stand there in the dark, only seeing the glint of her yellow, golden, sulfuric, predatory eyes in her reflection, murmuring in the coldness of her quarters, with nothing but a black combat vest and shorts for garments, until she pulled herself away from the nightmares that she continued suffer and back into reality.

 

Only then would Darth Ayra be ready to bring Cadomai Prime to it's knees...



#12
Engineer Six

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        Once again people were attempting to resist the glory of the New Order. Fleeing, running amok, fighting back. Some good soldiers were being cut down in the chaos. This was unacceptable. Any who try to defy us will be cut down. "Sir! Enemy troopers are landing, sir!" One of the nearby captains said. He appeared unfazed, even... eager to face these enemies. Good. We need troopers like him. Fearless, lusting for bloodshed. With a smirk I nodded and prepared a response. "Take your men. Go out, find the invaders, kill them. Leave only one or two alive for interrogation. Take hostages if it will help." Sometimes the cruel way worked best. After my orders were given the men headed out. Originally I was going to go with them... but something told me I needed to be elsewhere. The force was calling me. "This'll be fun..."

Time to head out.


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#13
Darth Ferus

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The Zabrak stood before his legion of the Blackblade Foreign Corps. The citizens of this planet would no longer have their art, that was for sure. He stepped out, allowing his men to sweep each home, each apartment for anything illegal. There were shots as those who resisted were executed, there were fires as the work was taken into a pile and burned. The BB-F was doing it's job well. Very well. For the moment he didn't even bother checking in with the others. For now he would have his soldiers finish this area, then he would call in.



#14
Arminius

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Contact Prime
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The Sixth Battalion, Juliet Company led by General Hasjo Hallu, moved through the grasslands. The golden green blades brushing against their thighs. Blasters lowered. The resistance they initially met upon landing had been cleared. A plethora of their own LAAT's and starfighters had been shot down, burning in the fields behind their backs. They had to keep moving, towards the capital. Their time slot was thin, and only becoming thinner. They needed to secure whatever artworks they could, and evacuate political figures. Hasjo approached Fireteam Zulu, a set of marines formerly in the Republic Army. They lowered their rifles at the sight of the Nautolan. Hasjo glanced down, noticing the bodies of New Order troopers around them. He glanced up, the Sergeant speaking "They gave it their best shot, but they didn't count on running into the biggest squad of Marine bad-asses in the Corps!



#15
JadeShadow

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En route to the City Hall

 

The Imperial gunship harboring Revara Serebis, Sith of the New Order, and a squadron of white clad storm troopers hovered over the city of Forela. Dusk settled on the planet of Cadomai Prime but the surface was lit up as if to compensate for the approaching darkness. Pyres scattered everywhere burned stacks of canvas and wood carvings, along with the hopes and dreams of the Snivvian people.

 

Revara was merely a bystander to the chaos below, but she could still feel the rush of dark side energy flowing throughout the streets. She smiled darkly. Soon, she would be wreaking havoc of her own. Her target was a government building titled "City Hall". The Sith had other, more intimidating names for their places of power, but "City Hall" seemed like the perfect name suited for such a bland planet.

 

The shuttle slowed when they had reached their destination. Revara leaped the thirty meters to the street and waited for the storm troopers to follow. They rappelled from the ship with cables and landed with an thud on the sidewalk. Their boots pounded menacingly as they drew their blasters and headed slowly toward the government building. Revara was right behind with her crimson lightsaber drawn.

 

They entered the building unrestricted. There was a front desk that admitted people into the meeting chamber. The chair behind the desk was empty, but Revara sensed a figure hiding beneath it. Sighing, she lifted the desk out of the way with the force to see a startled alien cower in fear before her.

 

"What a weak fool." She snarled, all the while grinning from ear to ear. "You really thought you could hide from a Sith?" Revara grabbed him by the chin and drew his struggling body closer to herself. The storm troopers, realizing that she had the situation handled, dispersed throughout the building. "I can sense your fear you sniveling rat." Her blade raised to the aliens throat. "Give me an audience with your cities governing body. NOW!" She tossed him and sent him reeling back, crawling away on his hands and knees. Revara kept her blade trained on him as he stood up shakily. "Isn't this so much easier? Why did you insist on fighting a futile battle? Did you really think you could pose a threat to the Sith." He stood wearily, eyes wide with fear. His eyes flickered for a moment at something behind her. She spun and followed his gaze. A portrait of a figure wearing all white robes and holding a green energy sword hung over the doorway.

 

She returned back to the Snivvian, who realized his mistake. "You thought the Jedi would save you?" Revara laughed cynically. "You should have learned by now. Jedi don't keep promises."



#16
Juun Prax

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Hasjo Hallu   Darth Ferus  Commander Rykal  Darth Vornskr   Ishmael Verd

 

 

"It takes a hatred and rage more pure than any simple manifestation of the darkside." the Dark Lord growled, gazing down at the apprentice beside him "It requires not the petty hates and grudges your weak mind holds within it...it requires a hate brought from the depths of your very soul. A passion so flawless that it lives deep past the weak thoughts that the uninitiated possess, it is a primitive rage that seeks to devour all in its path. A will to destroy and conquer and kill, a will so powerful that you can taste it like blood on your tongue." once again, the beast peered down at Ishmael and snorted, "you have yet to achieve any of that, lesser" 

 

 

With the silence that followed, Krag was then approached by the one who led the BlackBlades on the planet. The Blackblades were xenophobic to the core, but they had witnessed the greatness that is the Graug and they had not been foolish enough to attempt their genocide against the people. Then again, Graug were but one of a very short list of aliens that would ever be considered a true part of the Sith...Vulcanus had seen to that. "Excellent, then they will kill many in the name of Order." 

 

 

Soon after, Vulcanus was approached by yet another familiar face. Rykal had become a trusted commander of Imperial forces and Vulcanus had come to see him as a valuable asset. "Then I order you to seek out this temple and bring before me the secrets it has to offer. Take a legion of my stormtroopers with you, but do not fail me in this task Commander or I will see that you are punished." 

 

 

It was about that time that a call came in through Vulcanus's communications device, one that alerted him to an attack on the city that the New Order was currently about to move on to conduct the raid. "Lord Vulcanus, we are under attack by an organized force of combatants. They look like Republic, Mi'lord." 

 

 

Impossible, the Republic dogs could not have found them yet. If it was the Republic though, they would meet a grim end at the Graug Warlord's hands, "Hold them off, captain, I am on my way with an assault force of the 501st." looking to those around him, the Dark Emperor through a finger towards the gunships, "it seems Jedi have begun an attack on our raid target, let us show them the price of their foolishness" 
 


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#17
Wilhelm Rykal

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Commander Rykal nodded his head to the Emperor, before turning to inform comamnd to gather a legion to head out to the location of the hidden vault, by the Emperor's orders. The force would soon be gathered, before boarding various shuttles which soon took off and began to transport the troops to their destination.

 

The large fleet of shuttles passed over the heads of the incoming republic troops with great speed, dropping a few explosives down upon their position before continuing to their objective elsewhere.

 

Hasjo Hallu

Darth Vulcanus


Edited by Commander Rykal, 06 June 2014 - 07:32 AM.

In the end, we will be judged...not by what we have destroyed, but what we have created!


#18
Darth Ferus

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The clean up went rather well. Local resistance was put down quickly, books were burned, paintings shredded. Families forced to watch as those who resisted were mercilessly slaughtered before their very eyes. But this was all too easy. There was no challenge, no obstacle. Just enforcing. But that changed when the Silver Jedi attacked. Ferus listened to the report, then a dark grin formed over his face. So a challenge did finally show itself. With a wave of his hand the elite of the BB-F, numbering in only fifty, set out with him. Those that remained would continue sacking the homes, but those that came with him would deal with the Jedi.

 

"Be sure those weapons are clean and hot. Time to see how well you do with Iridonian tech." The fifty strong went through their weapons check. Illegal weaponry with devastating damage output were given only to the best of the best. Ferus's fist. For now there was fifty highly trained men taught in the warfare of Iridonian, but that would change. Ferus's Fist would grow in number, and perhaps grow out of the BB-F if need be. But for now, the Fifty marched behind their master, right for the Jedi. Soon they would come into view, but not yet.

 

Hasjo Hallu



#19
Ella Nova

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| Hasjo Hallu |

 

Ayra finished splashing water on her face, drank another two cups of water and then dried her hands and face on a towel. Turning to the cupboard, she took out her combat uniform and undressed out of her night clothes and into them. Tying her ivory, blonde hair into a pony tail, Ayra took a squat position beside her bed. Her hand locked around the straps of her shoulder black bag, which she then pulled out from underneath.

 

Unzipping the bag, she pulled out a briefcase and rose to her full height with it in her hand. Unlocking it on the bed, Ayra pulled out all of the pieces inside; and two minutes later, she had fully assembled a working WESTAR M5 blaster rifle. Loading a fresh clip of ammunition into it's chamber, she cocked it back and then set it on it's safety setting, so as to avoid an unwanted discharged. Laying it beside the empty brief case, Ayra next turned to the two disruptor pistols inside. She made sure that they were in working order, before loading them with a fresh clip of ammunition and putting them on their safety settings too.

 

Next, she laid out her combat knives, grenades and equipment. Tying a utility belt around her waist, she attached one combat knife to the belt and one other in a holster, which she then tied the holster's strap around her left ankle. Moving back up, she then attached a strap across chest, leading down from her left shoulder to her right thigh. Several hooks were found on the strap, from which she filled with the grenades she had lain out on the bed. The spaces that she could not fill with grenades, due to running out of them, held ammunition for her WESTAR M5 blaster rifle and disruptor pistols. Lifting the rifle's strap around her right shoulder, it hung across her chest and the strap that was now there. Finishing her kit check, Ayra holstered the two disruptor pistols, one on her left thigh in a holster on her utility belt and the other behind the back, held up by her combat trousers.

 

Her Lightsaber and Saberstaff also hung from her hips. Shrugging on a Sith robe to hide the arsenal that she now carried, Darth Ayra closed the briefcase, locked it and put it back in the black shoulder strap bag. Closing that too, she pushed it underneath the bed. Turning to exit her quarters, she shut the light off and when she was outside, locked it. Then she turned right and headed towards the hangar bay.



#20
Juun Prax

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Darth Ayra  Darth Ferus   Hasjo Hallu

 

 

The skies gave birth to the mechanical howling of gunships as the New Order's 501st Legion came screaming in with their Emperor close behind. The valley in which the Silver Jedi's troops now stood was an open field with no cover and that meant killing them would be like shooting fish in a barrel with a grenade launcher. The howling started as only a far off growl, but the menacing voice of the engines became deeper and deeper with each passing second until the fleet of gunships were the only things that could be heard. Darth Vulcanus stood beside the pilot of the lead gunship, his eyes focusing on the Jedi assault force that had landed to try and stop their advance. Pitiful, really, they would all be exterminated as rodents should be. 

 

 

"Exterminate them all" was all that the Dark Lord said to the pilot, who nodded with a smile hidden behind his face plate. The front guns spun up and then began to unleash a hellish fire down upon the enemy troops, red lasers from over a dozen craft hailing into their lines. Bodies burst with puffs of smoke as the vehicle mounted guns tore them apart, burning their bodies and the grass around them.

 

 

Vulcanus's gunship landed in the field, as did six others, and the 501st Legionnaires piled out and hit the dirt to take up firing positions against the Silver Jedi. The rest of the gunships continued their strafing runs, littering the battlefield with fire. 


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