Angler for an Empire | TSE Dominion of Arrakan/Feriae Junction

[Sith Norn]

Sing! Oh wise Norn of the Sith. Sing of the war upon the worlds of Arrakan and Junction. Sing of the slaying of hundreds. Sing of the pox upon the fish folk of our glorious life. Sing of the rage of the Empire!

It is some eight-hundred and fifty-nine years after the fateful Battle of Yavin where the Galaxy burned and burned for years after its conclusion. And the galaxy burns again. The Sith Empire continues the expansion of its territory with unmitigated compulsion and impunity, sparing those that surrender their arms and swear their lives to the rule of The Black Iron Tyrant, and eradicating those that stand foolish enough to resist the rightful rule of the Dark Side. The Sith Empire stands absolute within its borders and none within them, nor can those within close proximity, can fight a winning battle.

Hundreds of worlds are sundered under the blasts of the Empire's weapons, decimated by the charging feet of the Legion, cracked and charred by the powers of the Sith who fight with rage, devoured by the beasts that gallop across the battlefield, and hidden by the shadows of the looming Imperial Fleet. Hundreds of worlds, thousands more of cultures, billions of sentient lives enslaved, conscripted, and slaughtered. The glory of the Sith. The wrath of Carnifex. The desires of an Empire.

And thus, Arrakan and Feriae Junction loom on the horizon, morsels for the ravenous beast that puts to shame the Gods of archaic immemorial.

Arrakan is an inconsequential little thing on its own. It is simply an ocean world with Force sensitive fish folk, but nothing awe inspiring and robust enough to make the planet worthy of dominion by the Sith Empire. At least, that’s what the natives wish would have been the thought process when a large contingent of the Empire’s fleets appears in orbit, Darth Carnifex himself at its helm, dozens upon dozens of Angral-class, Marr-class, Bajulator-class, and many many more aiming their cannons and forces upon the oceanic people.

"Arrakan has resisted the rule of the Empire for far too long and, as reports have revealed, is filled with mounds of scientific promise and research. Now, it must burn with the rest of the Galaxy and serve the glorious Sith," Lorale Farmar, Lord of Conquest, squawks over the intercoms of the Ruthless Vanguard, sealing the visor of their wolf-shaped helm with a clank.

Elsewhere, Feriae Junction, a trade world guarded by the Red Legion tucked away in the midst of Empire territory, is a mockery of our strength. Heavily guarded by former and current enemies of the Empire, it stands solely to show a stain on our power. The people of Junction have stood armored and waiting for this day far too long for its enemies to strike out and now is the time.

Filled with advanced technologies and in the perfect location to establish trade routes, a collection of fleets have been sent its way; the only goal being destruction and conquering. These rebels will not come peacefully, and should not be given the option.

Across all datapads and computers the forces of the Empire's fleets possess, the words scribbling across their screens are simple:

Objective I: Arrakan - Battle the mighty oceanic fleets of the Battrachs and Duors! Sink them below the waves before breaching the Arrakanian waters to gain entrance into the city below its surfaces. Slay the leaders of the fish folk and claim this world and its resources for the Empire! But, beware the dreaded Leviathans, for they will suffer no invaders of their sacred waters. And watch out for those violent storms! One strike of lightning can disrupt even the sturdiest of machines.

Objective II: Junction - Invade military training base on New Junction and obtain any useful technology to the empire. Slaughter the Red Legion and bring to heel one of the last remnants of the Sith Empire's most determined foes. But, beware the combative power of Hawke Braxis, the Regent of Feriae Junction, for he will take great pleasure in slaying the enemies of the Mandalorians.

Objective III: BYOO - Indiscriminate slaughter, beast hunting, espionage! Whatever your true heart desires, come to these worlds and do what needs to be done for your own goals.

 

[Darth Morrow]

Objective II: Junction - Slaughter the fools.
Location: New Juntion, approaching Military Fortification

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Leading the front of the New Junction assault was Lady Morrow, the ghostly white gargantuan woman with little fears in the face of a few disgraced Mandalorians and Red Legion. Adorned in her black and red battle armor the woman stepped from the transport on the landing pads where trade vessels usually make their rest. The beginning of the plan began to take hold, disguise transports as trading ships and allow the ground forces entrance without resistance. Once landed, the chaos would begin.

Stepping forward Darth Morrow and her young apprentice emerged from the smallest transport, followed by more allies as the moments continued on. In the brief second they stepped foot on solid ground the people began to scatter. Those lacking talents in combat themselves began to run for cover, those who deigned it a smart idea to fire were quickly cut in two by the Sith forces beginning to make land.

Before New Junction even knew it they were under attack.

A voice rung through in her ear, a quiet woman though still commanding all the same. "My lady, forces moving into position for ground assault, should we send down the Black Rose as a support?"

All those on the same frequency could hear the conversation. Lady Morrow spoke between shoving her saber through a civilians torso that had the audacity to pull a blaster. "Send the forces through the rear entrance to flank, I want the fort contained within the next two hours, no effort wasted on this one. These rebels will all bleed before their superiors."

After the order was issued, the small first squad now began making their way up the streets of New Junction.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective: Arrakan - Kill the Dolphins
Location: Marr-class Star Destroyer, HIMS Deliverance

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"Shields holding, Excellency, but for how long it is impossible to know. The storms are too numerous..."

"Push further towards the surface, bring us close to the water."

The prow of a Marr-class Star Destroyer, the HIMS Deliverance, sliced through the turbulent air, lightning collided with the warship's resilient shields again and again. No fighters had been launched to screen the Deliverance as it descended through the planetary atmosphere, the lightning storms were far too dangerous to small fighter craft than they were to ships like the Deliverance. That did not mean that they were unharassed the entire journey, quite the opposite, as the local defenses had been harraying their every move the moment they transitioned from orbit.

Even now, far below the Deliverance, weapon emplacements shielded against the electronic interference poured tonnes of ordnance into the Deliverance's ventral hull in an attempt to dissuade its entry. So far, it had no luck in turning away the mighty warship, which returned fire with staggered volleys of concentrated turbolaser fire that boiled the seas and left whole islands charred blackened wastes.

"Nearing the water's surface, Excellency."

"Prepare to disgorge."

The doors protecting ventral hangar bay of the Deliverance began to open, the blue glow of the magnetic field seeping out as the partition widened. From within emerged aquatic vessels, more that capable of traversing even the most abysmal underwater environments. Scuba-Legionnaires descended as well, their armor reinforced with pressurized suits that enabled them to withstand the bone-crunching pressures fall below the ocean's surface. Among them was the Sith Emperor, his own armor augmented in a similar fashion. He dropped like a stone, his hyperdense body structure providing him no buoyancy one his struck the watery surface and began to sink.

This was to his advantage, as he spiraled down like a launched arrow right into the midst of Duor militia and their Battrach helots. Sith Greatsword shining in the growing darkness, the Emperor descended towards Kearleonis along with the rest of the Empire's brave and loyal soldiers.

 

[Peyton Steele]

She’d heard word, because she was the Underground, of concern with the world of Arrakan, a water world, which as a result, meant something to Peyton. As a hybrid, she was a daughter of land and sea, as her father had said, but she was going to do what she could to defend those who weren’t truly capable of defending themselves. When it came to threats against the water you needed the amphibious species. That was why she had found herself aboard a Mon Calamari skirmisher, an older MC-42 loaded with a few Mon Cal Fighters and some Niathal shuttles. Her being part Galan, and of the Underground, who helped free some Mon Cals previous got her aboard.

A willingness to fight and a ready weapon, got her a seat on one of the first ships.

She was sitting, in armor that would help relieve pressure, but gave her mobility to move. The ships were loaded and the fighters were ready, the jump was to be timed when the friendly fleet had arrived. They’d have to work fast, but with the semi-aquatic nature of the Mon Calamari space fleet? They’d be uniquely equipped.

As an agent, she didn’t care much for the Force, but she truly hoped it was with them this day, and not with the Sith

 

[BobertEZ]

Objective: Arrakan - Slay the Fish Folk
Location: Invictus II-class Star Battlecruiser
Theme: Demon's Souls

Arrakan. A pitiful planet that was hardly worth a glob of spit from the mouth of a Jawa. Fish Folk? Turtle Men? Why Carnifex sought so eagerly to take this planet was beyond Lorale's understanding. Perhaps he simply reveled in the violence, the unique carnage that this battle would bring upon the Duors who had for so long lived peacefully. But they had resisted the Sith Empire. And for that, Lorale assumed, they had to die.

The Sith Lord would contemplate the reasoning of this invasion as the The Vanguard rapidly descended from orbit alongside hundreds of smaller vessels carrying soldiers for the islands, the shields miraculously holding against the violent storms and anti-air defense cannons the planet's natives had set up. As Lorale glared out of the portholes of the halls they traversed through, they would catch several Sith-Imperial Waveskimmer Aquatic Assault Vehicles being disintegrated by the lightning storms they torpedoed down through and several TIE fighters gunned down by the cannons. Their pilots would scream silently as their bodies were consumed and licked by the flames until they were nothing but dispersed ash. The poor bastards didn't even get a fight. The worst fate.

The Sith Lord would eventually come upon the hangars which, to Lorale's approval, were filled with several squadrons of the Firebirds and standard legionnaires, their armor gleaming and polished, ready for the naval orchestra that was soon to be conducted as the Emperor charged under the seas with his soldiers. Elsewhere in the vast hangar, within a locked cage, thrashed the grand draconian beast that Lorale called their pet. Rothmok. A great beast that had served them well on Dromund Kaas in the search for a sacred Holocron. Lorale would utilize the beast well during this day.

The Phoenix, armored in what could only be described as the visage of a beast of legend not yet discovered, launched themselves from the top step of the stairs down onto the flooring of the hangar where several aquatic vessels had been prepared for this dominion, this slaughter. The Firebirds near the landing point immediately formed into a lined salute for the Sith they revered as God, holding their left fist to the sky whilst their right hand gripped their left wrist.

Among the line stood the ever venerable Godfrey, a new cape added to his gleaming suit to signify his new captain rank amongst the Firebirds, "Your Eminence. It shall be the greatest honor yet again to serve alongside you."

Lorale only nodded slightly, the movement made intimidating by the beast-helm that looked as it it were glaring into souls of the men and women before them who reeked of excitement and desire to impress. More than one reeked of a different type of desire that Lorale noted as simple adoration of what they had been indoctrinated into believing was a Warrior-God. How they both craved and despised the Firebirds. Moving to one of the aquatic vessels that would take the soldiers down, the Sith Lord began to think of how they had ended up here. How only a short while ago they had been a generic warrior, a pawn of Kehotu-yshi, and a near-dead weakling. No longer. Not anymore.

Turning to those that had begun to gather behind them, the Phoenix cracked their knuckles and uttered three simple words: "Let's get started."

Within minutes, the Vanguard's compliment of Maleval-class mobile VTOL Carriers dropped from the hangars as the ship came to a hover some couple miles above the ocean's surface. Instantly were the fleets of the natives besieges by tsunamis of TIE fighters and whirlpools of Waveskimmers, as even more VTOL Carriers dropped from arriving cruisers like meteorites into an oasis.

Silently, the Phoenix soared through the storming skies upon their beast that roared with such fervor, the horizon seemed to split in twain from the vibrations. Holding the Wolfblade aloft in the sky, the sword's edges burning with ethereal flames of furious glory, the Vortex Born cried out in their native tongue: "Sssiith mi hiis ih mi Erpheli! Tsii zmsi es ithiels! Plixi ithielsish sishihvsilith!" Slay the foes of the Empire! Take what is yours! Prove yourself legendary!

The Code of the Sword.

 

[Charlyra Araano]

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Junction: Arrival at Drop Zone Nth-Besh-Four
Objective: Slaughter
In Company: 421st Crimson Lance
[member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Darth Morrow"]

Opposite Lady Morrow and the Black Rose, Charlya Araano apprentice of Darth Avacyn stood at a designated drop zone where she could see the city of New Junction. It glistened along the sea, a delight she was sure but on this day it would be the target of the Sith Empire's purge. Colonel Dido approached the Sith and handed her a datapad. Infiltration units had moved into the city, "good, prepare the legion - status on the sea transport?"

"Galidraani subsurface elements are moving into place."

Charlyra narrowed her gaze and shifted her attention to the sea where the waters seemed unnaturally still. Once more the people here went about their business. Colonel Dido turned to give a final look at the troops, her footsteps faded from the Sith Knight briefly. Charlyra disappeared from view herself descending down a slope where the Colonel gave her a word of acknowledgment. Troops at the ready and subsurface units in position, the 421st Crimson Lance moved out toward the city of New Junction.

 

[Mlow Eman'outther]

Objective 2: Secure New Junction
Location: New Junction, falling in with [member="Darth Morrow"]
Allies: Sith Forces
Theme? Sabaton - Ruina Imperii

Mlow hated military terminology, anything to lessen the idea of what their profession demanded. OPFOR, KIA, MIA, the endless list of letter combinations and callsigns, it took away from the core of why they had arrived, Autokrators draw. There was a reason why they had downed drinks and sung songs the night before. There was a reason letters were written. There was a reason there was a stillness in the transport craft that carried them to the planet's surface. They were machines, killers, that marched off when told, without question, for the Lord of Bastion. There was a reason they were prowling the streets. That reason was not because of 'insurgents', it was due to men and women defending their home against the Sith, and by the stars above, Mlow would see each of them fall if they refused to give in to the might of the Sons and Daughters of Korriban. The Sith Empire trudges on, through war, through hate, fear, the democratization of blaster fire, the will of the Emperor coming from the barrel of a gun or the hilt of a saber, they were all instruments of his will, and Mlow would play his chord.

He wasn't used to serving so close with Sith either, and when his eyes glanced back, his helmet clinking with the movement, catching the Darth taking down opposition as the squad prowled the streets, as her orders were made law by the coms system, things suddenly felt much more different. This was far from some distant ash-choked battle against a group of hopeless radicals, the Sith were a forefront now, in the field, side by side.

He would have to adjust.

His squad leader radioed, confirming the orders given by the Darth. They had an objective, a task, and the will to execute. He just had hoped he would have been fighting actual soldiers. His parameters, for what constituted a 'hostile' was the same as any other Legionary, an armed soul that wasn't Sith or aligned with them. Checking alignment and intent, return fire? None of those mattered. If you were in the way you were a target, at least that was what the training had taught him. He found his finger settled off of the trigger as the rest of his squad made call outs, dropping any citizen that even seemed to be making the go for a weapon. He kept his firing position, ruffling the stock of his Autokrator against his shoulder as they moved down the streetway, his barrel still cool. Waiting for sight of any actual resistance.

His squad was mainly an overdone escort, pushed ahead of the line to make sure the Darth and company made it, he felt that, given her status, this was more than unneeded. He swore their was someone in Sith-Imperial command that didn't like him...

 

[Bastian Briareos]

Objective II: Secure Any Useful Intel And Tech
Location: New Junction - Near Enemy Military Installation
[member="Darth Morrow"] [member="Mlow Eman'outther"]

"Enemy Forces." Bastian corrected the Sith Lord. Not that she could hear him over the rising chorus of battle and muffled behind his cigarette. Calling them rebels was justly incorrect. They can't rebel when they're sovereign people. Not that the distinction will last much longer. They'll all be citizens soon, or more likely slaves. Bastian took a long drag off his cigarette. Eyeballing the body that Morrow had stabbed a nice smoking hole in. Poor bloke he thought. Dead was another possibility for a lot of the civilians too. Bastian pushed such thoughts away. Nothing he could do but tarry around smoking while the army found the Mando's lines and set up a perimeter.

 

[Sith Norn]

Dearest listeners, I wish you to suffer not the consequences of these next few scenes, for even the darkest of Sith would find the violence and horror wrought upon these worlds and there people to be excessive and abhorrent. As I sit here, in my humble abode upon a planet that shall remain nameless, trancsribing the events of this dominion down, I find myself sickened. Yet, I must forge onward, for this is my profession. And you must read on, for it is your duty to know the truth.

As such, the battle rages on! A great invasion force led by the incomparable [member="Lorale Farmar"] and [member="Darth Carnifex"], The Butcher King, has landed upon the oceans of Arrakan, besieging their islands, coral reefs, and oceanic cities. Riding atop their great beast of the skies, Rothmok, Lorale seeks out the lead ship of the surface fleet captained by the Battrachs, rumored to be heralded by a massive creature known only as Shipwrecker. Knowing such a monster would add to their mystique and aura, the Struggler wields the Wolfblade with grave purpose and soars forth amidst a storm of reckoning and flak. Meanwhile, Kaine Zambrano, ever the warlord, descends through the dark waters with his legion, blasting and carving through the Duors who throw everything they can at the encroaching Sith, only to find their attacks useless and deflected. More than one Duor becomes mere chum for the beasts that stalk the outskirts of the battle or sink into the dark abyss below. Unbeknownst to the Emperor and his legion, however, the remains of the once peaceful fish folk alert a new type of beast upon the planet. Creatures of the depths that will suffer no invader of their sacred waters.

From the caverns and caves and reefs below rise the Leviathans, monstrous, sentient cephalopods, icons of the Duor's religion. Yet, even further below, in the deepest parts of the ocean floor, under the rank and file, of which numbers in the dozens, rests Kithnarrock. More than fifty meters long and twenty meters wide, Kithnarrock waits, and waits for the right moment to reach up and drag the Emperor to its waiting maw. And even more unbeknownst to the Empire, yet another approaches in the form of [member="Peyton Steele"], heading to Arrakan with a small fleet of freed Mon Calamari, seeking to aid their aquatic brethren.

Elsewhere, upon the planet of Feriae Junction, within the city of New Junction, Darth Morrow leads one final assault against the Mandalorians that dare to resist our power and might. Alongside her gargantuan frame stands the apprentice [member="Charlyra Araano"], the agent [member="Bastian Briareos"], and the Legionnaire [member="Mlow Eman'outther"]. Scores of Imperial Legionnaires march to their objective and a massive contingent of the Imperial Fleet hovers overhead to provide support and reinforcements when and where necessary. While more commanders and notable attackers are surely to arrive upon Junction, these four are what stand against the Red Legion of Hawke Braxis, who has begun to muster a defense force of great power within the city's infrastructure to lay down the attack upon the invaders.

Even now, an elite group moves to flank the enemy force and eliminate their commander before the invasion has time to even begin. Will they succeed in their task or be laid to rest like their kin? Will Kitnarrock add Emperor Carnifex to his list of sacrifices? Will Peyton Steele bring enough reinforcements to save the Duors? Will Darth Morrow lead her forces to victory and at long last claim New Junction for the Empire?

That, my dear readers, can only be revealed by those people themselves.

 

[Darth Morrow]

Objective II: Junction - Slaughter the fools.
Location: New Juntion, approaching Military Fortification

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Leading up the main road to the installation, Morrow found herself with little resistance from the civilians. The few that had dared pull weaponry were cut down by men, rained upon by crimson blaster fire and the corpses left as an example to the rest. They hadn't been here to slaughter civilians, their goal was before them in the form of large walls in hidden caches, armor clad men with a faint fire in their hearts that needed to be snuffed; these men needed to be brought to heel to the Empire, if they resisted that well. Their lives would not be mourned as the pitiful life was snuffed out.

While the Black Rose Legion made way to the rear of the fortification what little of the Red Legion and mandalorians had remained vacated from the walls as would an angry hive of bees. They hadn't been a large group, however if they were coordinated enough even a small group of bees can leave an opponent wounded at the cost of their own lives. The forces would have to remain cautious while pressing forward all the same.

It was but moments before the hail of blaster fire filled the sounds of the once quiet city. Screams of suffering and torment echoed through the roar of battle. All the while the Sith made their charge up towards the military base leaving death in their wake.

Morrow held saberstaff in hand as she pressed on through the tides of enemies thrown at them like fodder to a fire, only empowering the hatred they felt. These children needed to be brought down from the self thought high ground as quickly as possible, their rebellion a mockery to the good men and woman of the Empire. A crimson blade ripped through the chest of an approaching legionnaire, blood spattering as the body slumped to the ground in two pieces, eyes of magma stared down the opposition as rage built in her heart.

"Press them! Send them back cowering or send them to their graves!" The order came over the link as the woman reached out through the force and grasped an armored man by the neck, armor clenching and pressing into their throat, metal piercing skin as they were flung away to suffocate and bleed to the side. She was not here to grant them the mercy of a painless death.

[member="Bastian Briareos"] | [member="Mlow Eman'outther"] | [member="Charlyra Araano"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective: Arrakan - Kill the Dolphins
Location: Under da Sea

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Blood streaked the darkness, discoloring the black water a deep maroon. The Sith Emperor, Derriphan in hand, slashed apart another Duor warrior in half with a single slash. A faint ethereal light exuded from the bisected corpse, flowing through the water and into the pulsating runes which covered the entire length of the greatsword's blade. More Duor and their Battrach servants swarmed around him, blasters held in scaly hands barking as the water was intersected by dozens of blaster bolts fired all towards one point.

But none of that seemed to phase the Sith Emperor, the armor coating his muscular body deflected or full on tanking each and every shot levied his direction. There was little the Duor could do as they were suddenly pulled towards the descending Emperor by the Force, his weapon lashing out to end their lives and devour their souls. They broke away as tendrils emerged from below the Emperor, wrapping around him to squeeze and crush. Carnifex hacked at the appendages which sought to encircle him, his weapon cutting through thick trunks of flesh like they were little more than twigs. The cephalopodic Leviathans were unrelenting, driven to protect their delphinoid kin and the rest of their shared world from the encroachment of the Sith.

The water seethed and bubbled around the Sith Emperor as he lashed out with conical bursts of energy that superheated the ocean wherever it passed, boiling Duors and Battrachs alike with impunity. One of the Leviathans attempted to catch the Emperor in its beak, but the Emperor shattered its mouth with one slice of his greatsword, driving the blade deep into the Leviathan's body and into its brain. Ink and blood exploded out from the creature as it died, the Emperor pushing down through the black cloud as the Leviathan sank towards the underwater city below.

Normally, one would have to utilize the system of jellyfish and bivalves to move from the surface down to the city of Kearleonis, both of which were controlled by the Duor and their servants. The Emperor bypassed all of that, descending directly to the city's upper layer of domed structures and pathways. But more Leviathans and Duor soldiers blocked his path, even though he was partially obscured by the dying Leviathan.

A challenge he more than welcomed.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Objective: [II] Make Junction kneel
Location: Junction City outskirts

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Ever the pity, those lost lives were.

Not that Darth Avacyn wasted even a moment to mourn them, though. By standing up against the Sith Empire, they had chosen their own death and the Sith would oblige their wish. Deaths that bore no weight and carried no true consequence. It was never any kind of heroic sacrifice, it was never more than another body tossed aside to clear the way. Some may have been capable of achieving great things, but in the end they wrote tinto being their own demise. Avacyn saw no reason to pity them.

Like an unstoppable force, the Sith Lady marched through the outskirts of Junction City, while all around her blaster fire came from all direction. She too was a target, though the woman seemed to not be bothered by that fact as she deflected fire with the lightsaber in her left and used Earth Shaping to cause stone walls to rise up out of the ground to create cover. All the while she didn't stop moving, only slowing down to grant those foolish enough to approach her their death.

Then, she was finally forced to halt her progress towards one of the military fortifications protecting the city. Fourteen legionnaires now rushed at her from all sides, looking to corner her and take her down. As they made their approach, Avacyn quickly send a message through her comms, the recipients being Colonel Dido and her apprentice Charlyra.

"I've caused enough of a ruckus. Strike now."

While they were focussed on the Triumvir of Strength, they could also be caught off-guard by another assault.

[member="Charlyra Araano"] | [member="Darth Morrow"] | [member="Mlow Eman'outther"] | [member="Bastian Briareos"]​

 

[Mlow Eman'outther]

Objective 2: Secure New Junction
Location: New Junction
Allies: Sith Forces
Theme? Sabaton - Ruina Imperii

It was always stunning to Mlow how quickly the silence of reality could be overturned by a symphony of blaster fire, it never stopped shocking him how the transition from the silence to the storm was something he never saw coming, but just at the last moment, before the first of the opposition dared to peek over cover and send a streak of scarlet screaming sin over the scene, Mlow had the thought to duck. In the moment it took him to shift, the round echo down the street behind him, and the onslaught of blaster fire and local coms communication exploding, he managed to throw himself against the side of a building's alleyway, providing some cover from the swarm of armed men and women meandering their way against the Sith-Imperial Forces. To a man, to a sapient made of flesh and bone, it came as a shock. His breathing ruled him inside of his helmet, the shuttering of blaster fire calling his name down the way. Over and over, zipping into the ferrocrete, lulling the more unmentionable bits of the advancing Sith forces into sleep, every trigger pull was hounding him, asking him to take the dare, just how protective was that armor Mlow? How much did you trust it? Couple bouts of plasteel between you and decimation, are you a gambling man.

The calls of contacts, his squad falling into cover where they could, a few catching scorch marks and falling where they stood, kept the Kudon in place.

Then he saw it, the Sith that had been leading the assault, Darth Morrow. It was nearly otherworldly seeing people like the Sith work in combat, it stood as a base to take cover when another living being threatened you with a blaster rifle, it stood as basic logic to seek cover when a hailfire of rounds become as common as the wind. The Sith were something different, she was a miasma, a pox to the opposition, dropping them as they dared. To the credit of the enemy forces, they kept daring, over and over, some of the bravest fighters, he would bet, anyone willing to face a saber-wielding nightmare in headon combat had to be. Watching her move like a reaper, he looked down at his Autokrator, flipped the fire select to full auto.

"Press them! Send them back cowering or send them to their graves!"

"For Lord Carnifex!"

He called, bringing himself around the corner, the Autokrator slamming into his shoulder as he leveled his sight line with the entrenching mob, falling in with the rest of his squad, slamming the trigger back as he moved. Trailing a hellstorm of heavy blaster fire into any that was mid charge, pulsing shots at those that managed to get to cover. He vaulted a section of collapsed debris, one of the fellow Legionaries was using for cover, they were on the offensive now. No Pseudo-Mandalorian force would hold him back, perhaps, if they managed to break their will, they could take some alive. He was so tired of slaughtering the blood of Dxun, so many stories plagued by split ink, the red running in the city streets.

The Kudon moved forward, waving his squad to follow close, wanting to press with the Darth. The military complex was far from prepared for this.

 

[Lark]

Objective One: Go Fishing
Location: Kearleonis
Allies Nearby: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Lorale Farmar"]
Enemies Nearby: [member="Peyton Steele"]


Clad in jet black armor that shielded him from the aphotic nightmare below, Lark plummeted towards the underwater city of Kearleonis, capital of Arrakan. As he descended the darkness rose to meet him, only the lights and glowing visors on the other sinking Sith provided any illumination. The fall was seemingly never ending, and it was then when Lark realized how deeped they truly were. The tempest above, once so destructive and deafening, was now quieter than a whisper. The murky eclipse beneath him seemed even more foreboding than the cosmos, the uncertainty regarding what unknown beasts called this submerged locus their home intrigued him. The aquatic enigmas called out to him, what horrible secrets lay submerged within these waters?

Finally landing on Kearleonis, Lark entered the battle that had already begun in earnest. Unsheathing his enchanted blades, Lark cut a number of Duors deflecting their blaster fire and adjusting to underwater combat. It was his first time fighting whilst submerged, and although he could notice the differences between battle underwater and on the surface, the specialized armor he wore allowed him to weave and dance through the water as though he was raised in the sea. Plunging his blade deep into the chest of a Duor warrior, Lark pushed the carcass off the sword and into the blackness.

The body drifted downwards, until the darkness consumed it entirely. How much deeper does this go? He wasn't sure far much they had actually dropped, but it was possible that they had descended only a mere fraction of the sea. Lark was at the bottom of a puddle, when an entire ocean lay beneath.

Captivated by the ceaseless darkness, Lark hardly noticed the eye staring at him until it was too late. A tentacle grabbed his ankle and attempted to drag him down alongside all those he had killed. Falling off the platform and into the open waters, Lark could see nothing but the grotesque Leviathan, a monster of the sea. Cutting the tentacle, Lark broke free, and landed on the Leviathan's face. Forcing his blade into the gaping eye of the squid, the Leviathan struggled, squirming and thrashing wildly in an attempt to throw him off. But when the floundering stopped, Lark pushed off the squid and floated back up to the platform.

Looking back down, the Leviathans corpse had already faded into nothingness. What a place to die this would be, a forgotten drop of water within the far reaches of the galaxy. No one would ever find me here. A fitting place for a monster to die.

But his work was not yet done. Wiping the ink from his visor, Lark dove back into battle.

 

[Charlyra Araano]

​

Location: Outskirts, Junction City [New Junction]
In Company: 421st Crimson Lance
Allies: [member="Darth Morrow"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

The Sith-Imperial war machine continued, with Colonel Yves Dido at the charge and with a pointed gun she signaled the charge. Darth Avacyn's orders had been received, as the banners of the Sith Empire were carried into the city of New Junction proper. Knight and Battlesister Charlyra Araano's crimson lightsaber feasted upon the flesh of those would attack her. One by one they would feel the might of the Sith Emperor, lest they be worthy of the name Valkyrie. Shouts rang out as the vehicles pushed behind the infantry lines.

While the people of New Junction fought, some sought to take to the sea and there they would be met with sharks. The Galidraani Subsurface Navy went to work, bringing down boats where they could. Some of their vessels would take the risk of surfacing but others would remain and it was so; the Judgment of Junction had begun. It felt as if thousands if not millions of blasters, and slugs laid their claim to the land.

The battle had begun and with nowhere to go, nowhere to run - there was only one thing left for the people of this city to do. It was time to fight or die trying, the city would be turned into a wasteland if the Sith had a say. Charlyra would certainly have some of the say as would the Colonel who's own blaster rifle let loose a fury of bright red bolts a few of those bolts found the side of the building but the rest buried themselves in the Resistance of the Junction, the so-called Mandalorians who would continue the fight here.

 

[Peyton Steele]

Objective: Arrakan – Save the Aquatics
Location: Above Redemption Atoll

The Niathal shuttles were launching from the larger Mon Calamari ship and the target? The surface. There were a few locations that were above the water and that was where Peyton and her team were going to meet with the ones who responded to the Underground. The meeting was at the Redemption Atoll, in an area that was designed to attract the attention of the Sith, while the others would arrive from the other side of the planet to head to the landing zone.

“Hang on back there.” Called out on the Mon Calamari pilots. The NIathal banked as they hit atmosphere and Peyton could clearly hear the turrets on the Niathal going off. The TIE Fighters, that was what they were waiting for. The Blonde had grabbed her armor’s helmet and the hiss as it equalized was welcoming. She was going to need it for the protection, as a Galan hybrid, she was capable of being under water, but for something like this? She’d need more cover and pressure protection.

“You’re all going to be hitting the water pretty fast. Be watchful of you gravchutes. But we need to drop you now.” The light turned red by the boarding ramp and one of the Mon Calamari had been close to the controls. The Mon Cal were not the best at jumping but the grav chutes were going to help. Peyton looked at her wrist and the hologram came up, the resistance was sending their location.

“We’re awaiting you” came the scrambled called, and she could hear blaster shots.

At least she had her vibrospear.

[member="Lark"]

 

[BobertEZ]

Objective: Slay the Fish Folk
Location: Arrakan
Theme: Njord

The battle raged on and on and on between the Empire and the aquatic beasts that dared to defy the Sith. That dared to defy their own chance at salvation. All they had to do was submit, but they refused and they had to die for it. Lorale thought about this as Rothmok took several dives to grasp one of the turtle men from their ships, lifting them high into the clouds above before dropping them to their inevitable deaths. Some would be crushed into paste inside their shells, others pierced and shredded, and all of them dropped into the dark waves below.

As this happened, the storm raged and roiled as Lorale and Rothmok soared through it. The lightning, once white and pure, had now turned red and furious, in no small part thanks to the sparking of the air from the Sith Lord's pyrokinesis. The same could be said for the clouds, once grey and fluffy, were black as onyx.

The VTOLs and Waveskimmers made fantastic work advancing through the Battrach fleet, their crimson bolts and heavy torpedoes ripping through the hulls of the turtle men. It was clear, however, that for each ship they sunk, many of their own were sunk in kind. While the Battrach fleet was nothing like the Empire's in technological standpoints, they were still powerful and hardy and considerably larger. Thankfully, what the Empire had that the natives of Arrakan did not was numbers. A thousand-thousand Legionnaires could fall and the dent made would be minuscule at best. The fighting would go on for as long as the Empire desired. This had been proven many times before, upon planets beyond count. This would be no dif-

A series of explosions suddenly rang Lorale's ears and shockwaved the great beast they flew upon, causing them to pivot quite drastically downward. Cannon fire of the most dangerous kind: rapid. Rothmok did not need an order from her master to begin dodging the flak from the fleet, narrowly avoiding direct hits by the dozen as the Phoenix used the Force to direct several more away into the raining violence above.

Several TIE fighters clearly noticed that the Sith Lord was in trouble and began making their way to the Phoenix. Loyal to the last, many flew close enough to take the aggression of the fleet and found enough success so that Lorale could steer out of the firing range to begin their descent to the command ship of the Battrachs. Brave soldiers. Empire's best.

The command ship was clear to identify, as was its captain. He was a hulk of a creature, nearly as tall as Lorale and indefinitely thicker and stockier. More ball of muscle and shell than bipedal turtle. Lorale was highly intrigued as to how such a fight would go. With one final order to the beast, Lorale leaped off her hide, weapon in hand, and landed upon the deck of the ship. Within milliseconds, the crew were upon them only to find the Wolfblade carving through their skin and bone with great ease, their very life energy adding to the blade's already immense power. Blood painted the deck like a polished shine. The prints made by the Phoenix's heavy sabatons and tumbling body parts refilled with each fell swoop of the Wolfblade. Gore decorated the hulls like trinkets. Bodies were strewn like discounted debris. For a moment, on that ship, it appeared as if Darth Raptious had returned in place of Lorale once more.

With speed nearing the super-sonic, the Phoenix carved through the ship and its crew like a burning star of legend, their style akin to rapid two-handed fencing rather than powerful smashing. Yet, to their great surprise, the captain had not even moved. Nor did he give off a change in attitude. His mind was singular and his thoughts were straightforward: this was his home, and he would force Lorale off of it.

 

[Sith Norn]

​

Ah, I see you have yet to leave the pages of this recounting of innocence slain. I commend you, reader, for you truly are made of iron. I must confess that in the coming days, what will be told you and transcribed in these pages will only be worse and worse, for at the time of Arrakan's decimation, a war was brewing and a dark cloud began forming. But that is a tale for another day. For now, we must remain on topic with the war against the fish folk.

As you have seen, Lorale Farmar has engaged with the captain of the Battrach fleet at long last, finding, at long last, a match in pure strength. Desiring a duel of fairness, Lorale has tossed away their weapon, gripped by the claws of Rothmok, the ever loyal beast. A duel of fists and physical power that will sunder the ship they stand upon, sinking it beneath the waves.

Meanwhile, in the city of the Duors, [member="Darth Carnifex"] and [member="Lark"] charge forth, engaged now by the Leviathans who have risen to defend their home. While the Sith present slay many with impunity and savagery, the Legionnaires are not as lucky and many men and women are dragged into the depths by the grasping tentacles of the cephalopodic creatures. King among them is Kithnarrock, who now ascends from his throne in the black depths, wielding sharpened stalagmites in his eight arms to fend off the invaders, his attention particularly focused upon Carnifex, The Butcher King. Lashing out with his makeshift weapons, the Leviathan King rends innumerable Legionnaires and nameless Sith into chum and mincemeat.

Their screams are silenced in the ocean, but the Leviathan King grows euphoric from seeing them sink to become feasts for his kin. Finally, he comes upon Carnifex, armored and armed with gear beyond the creature's comprehension, and roared a guttural challenge through the waves that even the forces upon the surface could hear, one that scattered his kin that knew immediately that Carnifex was his. Would Carnifex accept the challenge between Kings, or would he send a tsunami of Legionnaires and Sith to destroy the creature?

Within the city of New Junction, the Empire finds similar success, thanks in no small part to the expert leadership of [member="Darth Morrow"] and [member="Kaalia Pavanos"], along with [member="Charlyra Araano], [member="Mlow Eman'Outther"], [member="Bastian Briareos"], charging with the feverish, fanatical, and fabled fury they had come to be known for, as all Sith are known for. The Red Legion fights with all their worth in response, with all their mustered rage and defiance. Scores of Imperial Legionnaires do indeed fall to the masterful guerrilla defense the Red Legion have taken within the city, but it is only a matter of time before the Sith break through their lines and begin attacking from within. They have nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

Yet this will not deter Hawke Braxis who has now resolved to join the fight personally. Adorned in his shining, polished red armor and with his blaster pistols at the ready, he begins regrouping procedures for those that had fled the wrath of the Empire into the fortification. As the Sith grow closer and closer, rapping at the gates and walls of their haven, he stands stoic and purposeful. Even as Morrow's flanking soldiers finally get into position to attack, he stands to defend.

"Be still, my brothers and sisters!" he cries out to the dozens in attendance, hoping the hundreds, perhaps thousands still living outside the fort could hear him. "Calm yourselves. Today is not the day we lose our home! We have repelled the Empire before and we will do so again and again. Defend your families, defend your people. We will meet the Empire's wrath with the fury of Mandalore. We will avenge those they have killed, enslaved, tortured, and broken! We will not die this day. On this day, we fight and win! We are Mandalorians! And WE. WILL. SURVIVE!"

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective: Smash the Mandalorians
Location: Junction

"Kill them all in my Lord Father's name!"

Battalions of Imperial Legionnaires advanced across the dusty plains, the ground shaking as several dozen walkers strode boldly alongside them. At their head was a group of the Emperor's children, the princes and princesses of the Empire, each one a Sith Lord in their own right. Leading them was Boro, born of Empress-consort Saijo, his exquisite dark mocha skin concealed by overlapping layers of ceramic armor and heavily ornate tassels that fluttered with every movement. At his side was Lenusa, born of Empress-consort Antanasia, her shaved head covered in intricate purple tattoos that seemed to writhe and seethe in conjunction with her magical spells. Behind both of them was Barentsev, born of Empress-consort Izaszh, his chosen form resembling that of a boyish Togruta with blue skin and red montrails intersected by white patterns.

Together, this trio of half-siblings led the charge against the Mandalorians with the might of their father's Empire at their beck and call. They wielded the weapons of the Dark Side, scarlet-bladed lightsabers and the power to electrocute, throttle, and disorient all those who dared stand in their path. Boro valued strength, a double-bladed lightsaber clutched in his powerful hands, twirling with expert precision to deflect oncoming blaster bolts back towards their origins. Lenusa valued wisdom, staying behind her larger half-brother and casting down ruination upon their enemies through intricate Nightsister incantations and conjurations. Barentsev valued guile, his form lithe and swift as he sowed chaos and confusion among the Mandalorians, turning friends into foes with a smile and wink.

A brief respite in the violence afforded them a quick breath.

"These Mandalorians are heavily entrenched, a truly exhilarating battle. Is this what Father felt when he fought at Moridin's side all those years ago?"

"It is not our place to contemplate our Divine Father's past, brother. All that we need to know is that he triumphed then, and we shall triumph now. His will ensures our victory."

"True enough, but it would be nice if these barbarians could die easier."

"If they were too easy, it wouldn't be much of a fight. Where's the fun in that?"

"You take stride in the fight, brother, but I take stride in presenting another subdued world to Father."

"Reserve this bickering for after this world has fallen, we still have much to do."

 

[Amaya Cardei]

Objective: Fishmonger
Location: Arrakan

Fire scored across the waters, licking at the oil that laid atop of it. Alvarex Zambrano stood at end of the duracrete pier before taking several steps back. The Blackblade readied his gladius, "BLADES, READY BLASTERS!" He ordered, his voice boomed across the battle scarred landscape. Nearby he knew there were others of the Empire, others who would serve his father's cause, his family's cause. He watched the water, as it became so still he swore that the next wave of attackers had already began their ascent toward the surface. "ARTILLERY!" Alvarex's voice carried once more through the air.

All at once the Fish-like people of Arrakan broke the surface, water pushed out and he gave the order. "FIRE!" Blasters, and artillery sounded whistling through the once quiet air. Puncturing the stillness with a cacophony of destruction. This world would belong to the Sith Empire, to his father's Empire for his father demanded that they take this world as their own. His tower shield ready he moved forward and bashed it into the face of his attacker his gladius simultaneously found purchase in the gap between armor plating. Blood dripped onto the duracrete itself and Alvarex pushed the creature off his sword and slammed the edge of his shied into the neck of another opponent.

The Sith's war machine hungered and demanded more, and more Alvarex would give.