Angry Raptor Noises™ - TSE Dominion of Tiss'sharl Hex

[Xevek Nekonis]

Darth Lykos​

Location: Tiss'sharl, Residential Area of the Upper Class.​

Objective: Eliminate threats to the asset.​

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Death. A word that could strike fear into the majority of hearts in the galaxy; whether it was a fear for themselves or a fear for others was inconsequential. Yet, it was not the word itself that truly inspired such fear. Instead, it was the concept of it, the unknown accompanied by it. The idea that, at some point, you would cease to exist, everything that made you you would come to an end, and you would no longer be a thing, but, instead, something relegated to the past. And, yet, that fear did not paralyse, but, instead, drove people forwards into different paths. Some chose to live every day as if it were their last, fighting to push the ever looming specter from their minds. Others turned to religion, dreaming up something other than the cold embrace of nothingness, seeking to desperately trying to convince themselves that the end was not the actually end. And, a rare few would chose to fight back. Those that lived within the embrace of the Force sought to bind themselves to that field, ensure that their memory and self did not fade once their hearts stopped and bodies cooled.

However, some within all spectrums knew the truth; that it was no nothing that awaited them, but the pain of the Nether. The ones that knew of the Nether and chose to try and fight against that fate were the ones that twisted reality, drove themselves forwards, the most in their fear. For they sought to defy death itself. Either way, whether one acquiesced to the looming specter, found solace, chose to fight and knew of the Nether or not, the very concept of Death would truly inspired: the fear of nothingness or endless pain - the fear of Oblivion.

That was why Darth Lykos had chosen the name of Lord of Oblivion upon claiming his seat among the Lords and Darths of the Sith Empire, because, in doing so, he had taken upon himself the name of that which inspired the truest and deepest of fears within all living beings - synthetic or not (after all, all wanted to live and, in doing so, fear death). But, that did not mean that he had chosen the name for the fear that it inspire in others. Instead, he had taken it for the fear it inspired in himself. He, himself, acknowledged the Nether and Death and sought to circumvent it, but, at the same time, he had faith within his Gods and Goddesses; for it was they that had first transcended beyond life, pushed their ways into the Force to forever escape the Nether and looked upon Iridonia since. However, even with his pursuit and his faith, the idea of the Nether, or no longer existing within the material world, no longer living, terrified him. That fear was what drove him forth more than anything else, and, so, the title he had taken served to remind him of the fear, to ensure that he would never forget it, that he would never falter in his march towards his goals.

Of course, the thoughts going on within the privacy and isolation of his mind was not being doing while he was 'working'. Such distractions would be conducted with the height of irresponsibility. Instead, such thoughts were absentminded musings as he flicked through a datapad, amber gaze flickering from side to side as he absorbed the material he was reading. As he did so, he paced up and down the width of the ornate - almost to the point of ostentation - room he stood within, his form illuminated by the slitted beams of light coming through the drawn blinds. All the while, why he read, he ignored the panicked, fear-filled gaze that followed his form from the overly large, in the Iridonian's opinion, bed. The source of such a gaze being the frozen form of an elderly female Tiss'shar by the name of Hel-Tyi-Gan; someone that had once held purposefully presented, not that she had known it, dirt upon Ru-Xutre-Luun and, as such, could no longer be allowed to live.

Thankfully, she had been one of the unwitting pawns that had been chosen to 'manipulate' from the shadows. As such, it would be unlikely that her 'unfortunate death' would be linked back to Ru-Xutre-Luun; even if foul play was suspected. Which, should things go as Lykos hoped, not be the case.

Finally, the pacing halted as Lykos set the datapad down off to one side, an insidious smirk pulling at his lips as he stared at Hel-Tyi-Gan. "Well, well. You've certainly been very busy over your life. Such a large amount of funds sequestered away, so much dirt collected. So much proof of your hand in the deaths of certain, very public, figures of the years. Do you have anything to say to justify your crimes, hm?" The smirk gained a mocking hue as he leaned all the more into the role he was currently playing, sadistic glee pooling within his eye as he knew that the Tiss'shar would not be able to respond, the effects of Force Slow weighing heavily upon her body - even as he allowed her mind to continue to run at normal speeds. "No, nothing? A shame, really, it would not do to execute someone without final words, but, if you insist."

Very slowly, he drew the blade from his hip, ensuring that the sound it made whilst being drawn run out harshly within the confines of the room. At seeing the desperation burn all the brighter in the elderly Tiss'sharl's eyes, he slackened the hold of the Force Slow slightly, making it possible for her to speak once more. Immediately, a rush of words spilled out. Begging and pleading mixed in with the odd hiss of anger before fear ruled the rush of words once more. Throughout it all, the Zabrak stood silently, until, after about a minuet, he raised a single hand, silencing the reptile as she suddenly fought to breathe through the pressure around her neck.

"Silence. If you wish to live, the price is simple. Where is your Nephew?" Defiance burned, but, already, he could see greed and desperation chipping away at the loyalty. Yes, soon, she would break.

Minuets later, Lykos loosed an arrow of pure Darkness from the bow he held aloft from his position atop a rooftop. With silent satisfaction, he watched as it struck the wrung out form of Hel-Tyi-Gan. Rage immediately struck across her features as the Dark energies overwhelmed her exhausted mind and will. However, the rage did not last long before she collapsed - as if she was a puppet that had just had its strings cut, which she metaphorically was - as the very same corruptive influences that sparked the anger drained her of her final years of life. Emotionless in the face of her death, Lykos collapsed the bow back into its compact form and disappeared. He had a new target to pursue.

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Darth Gvibr​

Location: Tiss'sharl, proceeding towards Council Chambers​

Objective: Protect the [member="Darth Carnifex"] and [member="Darth Saarai"] with the assistance of [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

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Bowing her head at the Rattataki's words, Gvibr lapsed back into silence as she followed the party along. Next to the much more imposing form of Ophida, let alone the strength that the Dark Lord projected and the rarity of the High Inquisitor's species for the reptiles that filled the surrounding city, Gvibr knew that she was nothing special, but, then, that was perfect for her aims. She was not meant to stand out, not meant to be the one who called for all the eyes to be set upon her. No, her duty was to be unseen even as she marched with the group. And that was just the situation that she was. One that was perfect for her role.

Absentmindedly, she noted the usage of telekenisis from Ophidia, but paid it no mind nor saw fit to comment on it. Instead, she continued to stride along, hands clasped behind her back, the silence wrapping around her form just as much as she always preferred the shadows to do so. However, that did not mean that she was inactive. When compared to her Master, Gvibr's strength lay in the mind. As such, as she marched along, her mental gaze flickered from mind to mind, picking up errant thought and desires even as she sought out any sign of plans against the delegation of Sith. However, depravity was no mystery to the woman as she had delved into many a mind of scum for the express purpose of shattering their very minds for simple practice and, as such, she easily shrugged off any disgust she may have once felt back when she was a Padawan as she listened in on the thoughts coiling within the subconscious of those with no form of shielding what so ever; nearly all of the gathered Tiss'shar.

However, such a search halted as the words of [member="Leliana"], whom she knew to be currently operating with [member="Ra'a'mah"], reached her through the earpiece she wore even as a speeder was directed towards the group. Hissing beneath her breath, Gvibr chose to follow the Dark Lord's words to the letter. Instead of taking shelter, a barrier, much weaker than the Dark Lord's, flickered into existence as, in desperation to ensure that no other plots were being enacted - plots that she had missed when being distracted by the warning of spies within the Palace, Gvibr through her mind outwards. The Barrier that had formed shattered beneath the force of the crash, however, it did its duty as flames began to swarm around her form. But, rather than tearing at her flesh, they, instead, began to writhe along it, diminishing in size as the pyromaniac feasted upon the energy contained within them.

It was only due to such an act that she managed to catch the thoughts of the sniper as he tensed his taloned digit against the trigger. Hissing in rage, Gvibr pushed forwards through the wreckage with speed and grace that came from practicing with the evasive style she favoured when it came to her saberstaff, seeking to stand before the Dark Lord before the shot could be fired. Death would come if this was her time.

But... that did not mean that she was unprepared to ever have her life threatened.

 

[Darth Bellum]

Location | In the open
Objective | Protect and Subdue
Company |

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Vexen would be trailing behind both [member="Darth Carnifex"] and [member="[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=12px][FONT='lucida sans unicode']Darth[/FONT][/SIZE][SIZE=12px][FONT='lucida sans unicode'] Saarai"] as they walked. He sensed malicious intent in the air as they walked, continuing to silently follow. All seemed alright for the time being, up until a speeder was seen barreling towards them. He takes a step forward, hand unclipping his lightsaber as Darth Carnifex forced the landspeeder into a nosedive and sent the driver flying off. His crimson saber flashes to life as he holds it off to his side, placing himself in front of the two Darths and conveniently just between the sniper and his intended target. He would have given chase to the driver, but a few guards had already begun their pursuit, leaving the two Darths in his charge.

He flourishes his lightsaber as he holds it up in both hands, scanning the immediate area for any immediate dangers. It appeared the Tissh'sharl had been so bold as to defy the Sith Empire, this was likely going to lead to an all out slaughter of the natives to subjugate them. Such a shame that they could not be reasonable and think of the well-being of its people, now they would suffer the consequences of their insolence. The tall, armored Sith Knight held his ground, ready to cover the Darths if they decided they would take their leave though it was possible that they would also storm the area in a full scale slaughter.

Just as he was about to act any further, a sniper shot would have rung out. Given his height, the hit instead struck him in the upper chest. Vexen lets out a grunt as his upper torso twists with the force of the blow, forcing him to stagger as one foot took a step back to prevent him from toppling completely. The phrik armor had been enough to take the full brunt of the shot, the shot being dispersed by the odd surface of the armor, though it was not as effective against snipers that carried a lot more force. Regardless, the force was enough for Vexen to take one hand off his saber. He regained his composure as he raises his lightsaber in the direction of the shot, not being able to spot the sniper, but perhaps the sight of a Sith not going down from a sniper, pointing his saber directly at the sniper would be enough to frighten them off, or prompt him to fire another shot in which Vexen would be ready.

 

[Darth Athora]

A few beggars approached Sutrok as he walked down the alley. Each one was met with a crimson hand to their face, pushing them away. He had one thing and one thing on his mind. He stopped when he reached a black door with a large man standing watch out front. The man stepped in front of Sutrok, blocking him entry. "What's the password?" the man said. Sutrok looked up at the man from beneath his hood. His scarlet-yellow eyes looked back at the guard's light green eyes. "Go on in." the guard said as he stepped aside. Sutrok walked past the guard as he opened the door for the Sith.

Once inside, colorful lights were flashing all over and beautiful women were one the stages set up around the place, dancing and grinding on the poles that were coming out of the stages. Each woman moved with such flair and grace that Sutrok, along with the sleazeballs inside, could not look away. One togruta girl walked up to Sutrok, placing her hand on his arm, lightly stroking it. "Hey there. Want a dance?" she asked, whispering softly into his ear. Sutrok said no words, just simply nodded. She smiled, bit her lip, then led him to a private room.

 

[Riamah]

Location: Tiss'sharl, Market-street-government building
Objective: Follow Tu'kal'chin
Allies: Leliana

As the two assassins worked together to make their passage through the streets not noticeable, Leliana filled Ra in on what she overheard in the market. The lord nodded and listened to the answer the other woman gave.

"I feel his initial target is one of his own. As you pointed out poison is unlikely to effect any sith that might be targeted..."

Her words cut off there as in front of the building Tu'kal'chin had been heading to there was a huge explosion. She and Leliana weren't close enough to be bothered by it, but only to witness it. She glanced briefly at her companion and cast on herself a skill that made her almost invisible. A bending of the light waves around her would be the only thing seen. The disturbance ahead of them would draw the attention of others nearby making her move unnoticed.

Keep a hold on her illusion, Ra would dash forward and actually surpass Tu'kal'chin, but she still remembered her objective and didn't get too far ahead. Just close enough to see that the sith were safe and unharmed.

 

[Jartris Entumaa]

Location: In Front of Palace

Jartris was slow to move out of the speeder's path after the Dark Lord's telekinesis had taken hold of it. He realised his mistake when he spotted the load the vehicle was carrying and annoyance at himself and the circumstances flared up within him. As he crouched down to reduce his surface area, his hands extended towards the back of one of the guards, who would have to suffer the consequences of it. The poor unsuspecting man was yanked off his feet and flew in Jartris' direction, towards danger instead of away where all his striving had been directed. He had no more than a second to apprehend this fact before a wave of flame swept over them.

Jartris let the burnt, dead body of the guard drop to the floor and rose, coughing. He noticed a searing pain in the back of his left hand, but did not look at it. As he turned to survey the open space, he saw no new danger approaching, but noticed that the suicidal driver had, in a ridiculous stroke of luck, managed to fall off his vehicle and survive. He saw the guards running after him, but this was important: assassinations that the Sith Assassins could stop before they were even attempted did not much matter, but this public explosion made a difference. The ability to expose the perpetrator would be immensely valuable. The rising anger he felt among the Sith around him reminded him that it might even be necessary to prevent this planet from being turned into a molten rock.

He started to sprint after the driver and the guards, and with a wave of his hand the Tiss'shar was slammed into a wall just as he had reached the alleyway, his hopes of safety crushed just as he believed himself to be about to attain them. The guards caught up with him and pointed their guns. One of them looked back at Jartris, who was now approaching them walking instead of running. The Sith finally looked at the back of his left hand, which was burnt as he expected. The pain, however, had subsided and was now only a minor nuisance after his body had realised that this could not be dealt with now. With his other hand, he began to beat the soot out of his singed robes.

"He's unconscious, Sir", the guard informed him unnecessarily as the Sith reached them. "Most inconvenient. Well, restrain him." He had been too forceful, then. Hopefully, the Tiss'shar would regain consciousness soon, though it would be unpleasant to read his mind, filled as it would be with terror and pain as the creature would realise its pathetic situation. He had damaged his cause much more than he had help it, his accomplishment being nothing but a handful of dead guards and some very annoyed Sith.

Meanwhile, Jartris looked back at the procession he had left behind.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Darth Lykos"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Kor Vexen"]​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Dark Lord’s Shuttle -> Council Chambers
Objective: Make sure no one touches the Dark Lord or the Lord Inquisitor.

'We know of two spies within the palace'

[member="Leliana"] 's words echoed in her mind. The sound of an engine in the distance drew Ophidia’s attention immediately. Hands still clasped behind her back, she dropped down into a lower stance and flitted between the Dark Lord and the Lord Inquisitor. The clasped hands had released one another, fingers curling up like talons as her burning eyes focused on the car – And were drawn up to the top of the palace.

“Lord FA, Ophidia, to me!”

She took a step back, barely within the protective field when it was raised. Ophidia could almost feel the fire on the other side as she stared up at a perch in the distance. There, she caught the faint glimmer of a scope. Clever girl.

The Force surged through Darth Ophidia’s body, strengthening it, pushing it beyond the limitations of her simple self. It was the first ability she had learned from Darth Ferus: Speed. Her rate of acceleration was simply ridiculous as she shot off, darting around, jumping over, and zipping past obstacles. The dust that rose in her wake left a path as the figure of ashen skin and black cloth shot away. And by warping inertia, she travelled up the perch – It was closer than one would think, thanks to the density of the capital of Tiss’Sharl – And activated the bloodshine blade of her curved hilt.

The scarlet plasma screeched as Ophidia launched herself the final distance and slashed out with her blade the exact same second as the sharpshooter fired their weapon. By chance or will of the Force, her blade and the cortosis-clad slug intersected on their respective paths through the barrel. While it shorted out her blade, it also disrupted the firing of the weapon enough to disarm it and send the shooter reeling back.

The Pale Assassin then landed, perched on the precipice. She turned, left hand unclipping the second hilt from her belt while the right placed the previous one back. A look of utter victory momentarily shining through on her face.

“Kark the Si-“

By the press of a button, two explosive vests were activated. One worn by the sniper standing directly in front of Ophidia, the other by the unconscious driver who was now being flocked by the Sith entourage and [member="Jartris Entumaa"] . Both would-be assassins suddenly burst with a violent explosion of thermal detonation. Clearly, neither would be taken alive this day.

Darth Ophidia’s face of trimph quickly turned to one of alarm as she brought her arms up to defend herself from the encroaching flames and powerful blast of the thermal detonation that threw her back and off the side of the building. What shield she was able to throw up was torn apart, and the Pale Assassin was left falling from a great height, dazed.

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[member="Darth Saarai"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Lykos"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Several shots rang out, but it was not fully known if it was one sniper or several working in tandem to attack the Sith. Either way, orders would be given to comb the city and root out any dissidents that would dare oppose the Empire. Many moved to protect the Dark Lord, including [member="Darth Ophidia"]. She personally took it upon herself to track down the primary culprit at the top of a nearby municipal building, sprinting away at blinding speeds to dispatch him before he could pinch off another shot.

"I want this city brought under martial law, and I want the League's palace surrounded and quarantined. I have a feeling some of the League's roster are partly responsible for this brazen attack, and I will see justice wrought by the end of the day."

At that moment the sniper's nest at the top of the building exploded with tremendous force, the entire top half sheared away by the blast. The Dark Lord could perceive things quicker than most, and he immediately set off at breakneck speed towards the disaster. Some would follow, not all would be able to keep up. Despite his bulky and muscular appearance Carnifex would move frighteningly fast when he so desired, although it required much energy to propel his massive body forward at such high speeds. Luckily he was able to reach the bottom of the building in time, and with careful precision he was able to catch the falling Pale Assassin in his powerful arms and promptly shield her from falling debris by kneeling down and blocking the shower of stone and metal with his own body.

A large slab of permacrete collapsed on top of the Dark Lord, momentarily burying him under the rubble. But with a heave and weighty groan of effort he managed to overturn the blockage and free himself and Ophidia from entombment. He then walked out of the rubble with the Assassin still clutched in his arms, "You're lucky I'm quick on my feet, Ophidia. Don't tell me you're getting sloppy in your age, huh?"

[member="Jartris Entumaa"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Darth Lykos"] | [member="Kor Vexen"]​

 

[Lord Depravious]

With explosions scattering the landscape below, specifically in the location that the Dark Lord was said to be and the order of 'Martial Law' having come from troopers on the ground near the Dark Lord - Lord Depravious sprung into action from aboard the 'Blade of Fate'. The order hadn't been given for the fleets to descend from above yet; however, there was still something that Depravious could do in order to enforce the Dark Lords will. With the simple press of a button the hangar bay of the Sith Flagship opened.

"Mobilize half of our fighter squadrons to the planet surface to patrol the cities and provide air support to the Dark Lord and his entourage. Two Battalions of troops sent via shuttle will also accompany the fighter squadrons to the surface to enforce martial law on the planet - not a single soul acts out of line or they die!"

With the words of Depravious, the swarm of fighter squadrons began to flood out from the hangar bay of not only the Dark Lords personal ship but the rest of the ships in the fleet also unleashed half of their fighter squadrons including several shuttle transport ships to transport the battalions of Sith Troopers to the surface. The fighters had the order of Martial Law, but also to secure the airspace on the planet and provide air-support to the Dark Lord. The ground troops had a singular purpose in this matter, the enforcement of martial law upon all of the citizens of Tiss'sharl. If a single raptor piped up, or acted suspicious they would be pressed to the flame by the massive force of troopers now descending to the planet surface. These few terrorists that sought to de-rail the Sith Empire would cause the entirety of their civilization pain.

Once the shuttles had touched down on the planet surface and the battalions of Sith Troops came flooding out from each of them forming rank next to each other - the fighter squadrons broke off into clusters of 3-4 and began to patrol the airspace around [member="Darth Carnifex"] 's location massacring anyone that attempted to run away from the location - guilty or not.

In the streets, as the battalions of troopers began to march, the steady drumming of their feet slamming into the ground could be heard echoing through the buildings on the surface, and anyone who attempted to run or act suspicious was to be hunted and brought in for questioning.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Dark Lord’s Shuttle -> Council Chambers
Objective: Make sure no one touches the Dark Lord or the Lord Inquisitor.

The wind rushed past her, rattling wildly in the fabrics of her dark robes. She looked around her, seeing the city at its odd angle and inducing thereby her trajectory. She curled her elbows and knees in towards her midsection and shifted her weight to give herself a less lethal position in the air before

-Thud. And crumble

It was onomatopoeic, the word that came to mind as she expected to take a hard landing but found herself caught by thick and entirely unexpected arms. She would also think they were unnecessary. Particularly the part of being carried out. Still, somewhere deep down in the sliver of a still living soul, choking on the opaque tar of her life-choices, perhaps she was grateful.

“Please. I had it all under control.”

A wry smile played on her face, replaced by a wince of pain as she brushed herself out of his arms and stood on her own two feet. She could feel several fractures, and one could see she favoured one leg over the other. Blood was beginning to seep out from her left ear.The Rattataki clipped her lightsabre to her belt by the other before looking to Darth Carnifex again. Her former expressiveness moulded back into the watchful impassiveness she so usually wore and she casually wiped away the stream of dark blood running from her nose to her lips.

“Are you wounded?”

He did not seem it, but it was better to ask.

All around them, the shadows of ships were cast upon the city and the sun was momentarily eclipsed. She would guess, this was about as peaceful as Sith Imperial Annexation could be. The Pale just hoped her Empire did not immediately alienate the public. They wanted this planet whole, not minced.

[member="Darth Lykos"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Saarai"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He looked himself over for a moment, noticing the small trickles of blood welling up from where bits of debris had struck him during his valiant rescue of the Pale Assassin. He hadn't felt a single one of them, and he doubted the ones he could see now were the only injuries that his body has sustained.

Still he shrugged, "Nothing that I can't handle, Ophidia."

Carnifex's lips curled back in a knowing smile, but it quickly faded as the soldiers and Sith finally caught up with him after his sudden departure. By now the Sith had moved to occupy the city with orders given to enforce Imperial order with as little casualties as was possible, although he doubted that the Tiss'shar would take kindly to be ordered about. Still, those with enough sense and reason would understand that compliance was a greater alternative to destruction, and would heed the Dark Lord's decree.

There was still the matter of the League to take care of, however. "I believe the time for niceties is over, I will end this." What he meant by that he didn't say, but when one had known Kaine Zambrano for as long as Ophidia did.

The future did not look bright for the treasonous elements of the Tiss'sharl League.

He made his way to the palace, the doors having already been torn open by the recently arrived Sith-Imperial Expeditionary Vanguard. Resistance was minimal as he scaled the palace's winding interior, with new threats neutralized before they could even get close enough to the Dark Lord to make an impact. The League's chambers had been stormed and secured, with a grand total of eight Blackblade Guards standing around the five detained League leader.

"Gentlemen," started Carnifex, "The time for mutual negotiations have concluded. As leader of the Sith Empire, I will gladly accept your unconditional surrender."

​

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An hour passed before the banners of the Sith were unfurled from the highest ramparts of the League's palace, signifying the conclusion of the negotiations and the full annexation of Tiss'sharl into the Empire. Carnifex had thoroughly subjected the Tiss'sharl League to intense mental torture, his servants sifting through their thoughts and memories to extract the seeds of treason that may have lurked within.

Those possessing treasonous thoughts were then hauled off to be exterminated as enemies of the state, while those who were uncorrupted were allowed to keep their positions on the League so long as they swore personal fealty to the Empire.

The empty spots would be filled in due time by true loyalists.

The assassin's ploy was defeated, and the Empire now benefited from their failure.

Imperius Unitada ober Totallex!​

 

[Cle-Var-Ri]

Clever left her home with a heavy heart and mixed feelings that evening. A night spent with her parents had been both dreaded and overdue. From the early morning of being barraged with questions regarding her internship, as mom put it, with the empire to the even more awkward dinner.

Ro-Be-Ert and De-Bor-Rah were just your regular suburban Tiss'Shar parents. Ro-Be-Ert was a relatively high ranking employee of a company that specialized with weapons, De-Bor-Rah, an assassin turned stay at home mom. They truly were your everyday doting parents, questioning all there was about this 'Dark Lord' and these 'Sith folk'. De-Bor-Rah just wasn't convinced they were the best influence for their little girl. Still, over a plate of raw meat, served chilled with a side of meat, Cle-Var-Ri reassured them that it was all in good fun. The experience was well worth whatever strain she'd endure and there was rarely a day she went hungry.

So it was truly with a heavy heart that she left the family home. Seeing the family was good, though she had to restrain herself with playing with her brothers. If she'd been stronger than them before, there was no contest now. Regardless, the evening had been a welcome break, leaving her refreshed and ready to get back to training.

Wait...were those warships?

 

[Nan'eth'illa]

Location: Tiss’sharl.
Objective: Eliminate.

“What the kark?”

Darth Filiae saw a red mist filling the room, touching the inside of the windows. It did not make any difference to her from there, but it was a strange complication she would rather not have seen evolve in an already sticky situation.

She repeated the motion from her past shots; exhale, hold, squeeze the trigger and feel the kick. The Cyborg Chiss put a bullet right through the Tiss’Shar’s chest and made a quick sensory swoop before raising her rifle. Filiae looked up from whence she had come and heard voices in the distance. Looking up at the sky, she saw the ships casting shade down on the planet.

“Not a good sign.”

Her nostrils flared with anger as she shouldered her gun and looked over the edge. It was a shorter drop than the last one, but she hadn’t planned this one. However, Banshee was not moving. Nethil had to improvise.

“Ron’ocet csae’en searoten”

‘Banshee, can you hear me? Let’s wrap this up, right now!’​

Taking a few steps back, Filiae took a sharp breath and started her forward run. Gritting her teeth she kicked off from the precipice and brought her feet forward like the last time. She caught the duracrete, dropped into a roll and almost crashed into a metal pipe before she could stop the inertia. Darting to the edge, she looked over at the building they had assaulted, but could only see the red smoke inside.

“Feth!”

Once more, she took a few steps back. Her head jerked to the side as she heard the ‘unf’ of the stun-grenade go off. Sucking in a breath and holding it, Filiae took off in a sprint towards the precipice and launched herself off the edge. Turning her body in the air, she sent herself crashing through the window on the other side; where Banshee was. The red mist enveloped her.

This was so far from the plan.

​

Scrambling through the gas, she felt herself fading quickly as the mist seeped into her system. This stuff was painful to be in, and if she didn’t have the magnetic tracer, then she would have been practically blind. Still, Nethil managed to spot the Sith Lord Queen and moved over to grab her and lift her onto her metal shoulder. It would probably have been worse if she had more exposed skin, and fewer cybernetic implants capable of running without aid of the Force.

[member="Darth Banshee"]

 

[Jartris Entumaa]

"Sir, he's wearing a -" Luckily for him, Jartris hadn't finished turning back around before the guard's voice was cut off by an explosion. Standing sideways, his body was less exposed than it would otherwise have been, and the shock wave he felt going through himself was surprisingly weak. When he did finally look at the source of the explosion, he saw a charred, partly dismembered body on top of the remains of the Tiss'shar, which were in no better condition. Realising what had happened, Jartris contemplated that it was a very good thing to have guards who were not Sith, who had more of a sense of duty and less of one of self-preservation. The other man had thrown himself on the unconscious assassin and practically hugged the creature as soon as he had noticed the deadly weapon that was still in place, thereby saving Jartris' health and certainly his comrade's life. For the other guard, while lying prone and giving a miserable little moan, was at least still alive.

"Fuck", the man ejected between bloody coughs. "I'll see to it that he get recommended", said Jartris. "What's his name?" The Sith wasn't part of any formal hierarchy, holding no rank in the military, but a minor manipulation like this would be easily accomplished. He took the comlink from his belt and conveyed back to the shuttle the need for a medic.

***​

Within minutes, the city was crawling with troops. The Tiss'shar had made a fatal mistake in providing such lax security, for while they had closed the area surrounding the palace to civilian traffic, they had clearly not been very serious about it if the speeder managed to get through. Thus, they had unwisely given the Dark Lord the necessary pretext to dispense with the pretence of actual negotiations. Jartris caught up with the Dark Lord's entourage as they entered the palace. He would have greater minds to read now than that of a lowly suicide bomber...