Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Boots Stop Workin' | (SO Dominion of Ogem and Loovria)

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The path to the Core worlds is one paved with numerous hyperlanes and world of interest, both of which serve as the perfect guiding lines for Sith forces as the Assembly urges them onwards. As the sweep into the Mid-Rim begins in earnest we have come across worlds which aren't quite as eager to resist our rule as those that we have come across in the past.
Rather the worlds of Ogem and Loovria have wisely chosen the path of diplomacy instead of destruction. But are these offers and agreements all that they seem? Or does their compliance conceal their true intentions to delay and disrupt the will of the Sith?
Regardless of the worlds in question the orders to the fleets and armies sent to expand our reach is much the same as it has been before. Crush all opposition and move forward. Ever forward.

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Objective 1: Mafia Protection or Mob Rule

Loovria, a world infamous for its gladiator pits and getaways for the rich of local sectors, has fallen under the gaze of the Sith just as so many others before. Thankfully the inhabitants are far smarter than those that came before and agreed to annexation right as the invasion fleet appeared in orbit. With one caveat.
Between the approach of the Sith and the collapse of local authority and order in the systems around them after the Trade League was dismantled, the slave gladiators and downtrodden of Loovria saw their opportunity and moved to seize it. The invasion fleet sits over not a world united against them but instead a world tearing itself apart, with the rich and poor fighting one another in every street and across every city. Leaders and key figures on both sides have offered themselves up to the Sith should their side win the war so long as the Sith forces intervene on their behalf.
So the invasion force must decide whether to claim Loovria as a decadent entertainment world or burn down the powers that be and establish a warrior world to draw their recruits from. A decision that will be made in the meeting room of the flagship at the head of the invasion fleet, the Star Destroyer Regicide.

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Objective 2: Ain't That A Kick

The traders of Ogem have long since prided themselves on being business first and politics second, with them typically holding no real loyalty to anyone but themselves and profit. While this attitude is respectable it is ultimately counterintuitive to Sith goals and as such requires some subtle modification. While the Ogemites have agreed to provide no resistance to Sith rule they have maintained their apolitical and neutral trade policies thus far, policies which will not be tolerated by the Assembly.
Above their world hangs a space station which acts as their main export and import facility. The Ogemites have been preparing a flotilla of goods and luxuries to send out to various factions and worlds across the galaxy, simply business as usual, but this cannot be allowed. Either by sabotage and outright destruction or seizing control and taking them for ourselves, we cannot allow these trade flotillas to leave Ogem’s orbit. Send a message that Ogem now profits for the Sith and the Sith alone.

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Objective 3: Bottle Off the Shelf
The more agreeable corporate entities of Ogem have decided to welcome the Sith Order. They've thrown a feast, a party, and they were quite explicit in the guest list. Sith and their significant others or other such close relations. Unfortunately this gathering isn't quite what it seems on the surface, a fact that will soon become very apparent to the Sith in attendance. This particular party has been put together by a cult known as the Eyes of Savidicus. They've begun to pump in two types of gasses into the dining room, one to null the Force if only a little and the second in an attempt to overwhelm the senses of the Sith present.
You see they wish to try and turn the Sith onto one another, and in fact have infiltrated the party with their own shapeshifters. So, Sith, how well do you know your partner and which one of you is the imposter?

 
Prophet of Bogan
Codex Judge

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Objective: Instill Rule of the Strong
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Robes
Tags: Open!

"I feel as though the choice is obvious." The Lord Inquisitor intoned, reclined in his seat in the Regicide's meeting room as though he didn't have a care in the world. "A bunch of prissy and pompous socialites or battle hardened arena fighters? We need strong soldiers if we are to take the fight to the Core, not another backwater pleasure world." As usual the masked man's tone dipped into one of venom and disgust as he spoke of the world's current rulers, his distaste as palpable as ever.

"I propose that we identify the areas of command and import for the world's existing government and send in strike teams to clear them out. Without proper leadership the existing security forces will no doubt crumble before the arena rebellion's onslaught." Thus far the fighting over the world was fairly equal, with the rebellious slaves and gladiators restricted to the poorer and underdefended districts while the rulers were barely managing to hold their ground in key chokepoints that led into the more well off and economically important sectors. All it would take was a few key strikes to tip the balance one way or the other and Loovria would be theirs to claim.

A whole world of warriors and downtrodden peoples liberated from their shackles by the Sith, an idea that almost made him salivate. Darth Strosius had performed similar such actions in his own little personal war in the Outer Rim so naturally he could direct their efforts into collapsing the existing government in short order. If they played their cards right they might not even have any casualties at all, and the invasion fleet could simply march on to the next world in their path.

 




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Objective: Support-A-Sith

Imperial Agent Kimora Min's gaze was locked onto a datapad as information scrolled by, feeding her intel for the upcoming operation. In a moment of unattended chaos, the lower class had risen up against their rich masters in an effort to take the planet from them. It was a tale as old as time itself. The masses fight back against the powerful few.

"The dogs have realized their masters grips upon their leashes aren't so strong." Kimora thought to herself. "All it takes is one peasant to go hungry, then the fires begin to rise."

After reviewing the proper intel, Kimora checked the next part of her dossier: her assignment. She was ordered to support the Sith Lord Darth Strosius Darth Strosius in his efforts on Loovria, no matter what they may be. She did not question. She was more enamored with the idea of getting back into the field.

She approached the door that led into the meeting room. The doors open, revealing the room, and those inside, to her. As she stepped in, she quickly recognized the Sith Lord and marched to his side without a word, choosing to speak when spoken to as prescribed by her training.

 

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Objective: Break Chains, Unleash Madness
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Kimora Min Kimora Min

"I am inclined to agree with Darth Strosius Darth Strosius , the coming Empire will have little need for a world of pleasure and decadence as we press into the Core. Let us cut the head from the proverbial snake and watch our rebellion burn this world to the ground."

Nefaron sat a few seats removed from Strosius, one hand tapping on the table while the other rested on the chair's armrest. Though in agreement with the Lord Inquisitor, Nefaron saw even greater potential for the rebellion on Loovira past the world's value to the Empire.

"Say we take things further. Yes, eliminate the power players and centers of government, but why stop there? Let us arm our little rebellion, work them into a frenzy, and put them on a path of righteous liberation."

Nefaron could not help but chuckle at the notion, that these slaves were not truly casting off their shackles, but instead, they simply passed from one master to another. While no doubt the Sith could brush past whatever pathetic defenses the Alliance put in place to keep them from the Core, but why waste their own resources when they could turn the millions of downtrodden and enslaved on Loovira into a vast wave that would crash into the Alliance?

"Don't waste time training them into proper soldiers, put them on transports and tell them that they are to bring liberation to all the worlds of the galaxy, let this mob be our front line in the war against the Jedi and the Alliance. Let us test the Jedi's commitment to protecting the innocent by having them face down those they have failed to protect. Let us shake their will, along with those foolish enough to stand against us when our true might is unleashed. Perhaps some of these slaves will prove themselves, perhaps we bring them into our fold. But we have given them the tools, let them use them against their oppressors and those who would seek to keep them in chains."


 

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"Kill, or be killed."

It was a simple lesson that Nefaron had learned early, early on in his life. The first fight in the ring, armed with a blade, to fight for the entertainment of the rich. On one hand, he felt.. Sympathy to the men and women before him. A pang of understanding to the plight they'd been through. It was one he himself had gone through seemingly unending until he was brought here. But that sympathy was short lived, and outright crushed.

Xeykard Xeykard said kill. Nefaron would not question it.

He brandished the dagger as he fell upon the first group of would be free slaves. They'd either kill him and survive, or he would. There were no other options.

Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Kimora Min Kimora Min | Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron
 
Boots Stop Workin'
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Accompanying Lord Thelien on Ogem

Tags: Open

It was a honour bestowed on the two most promising Acolytes under Lord Thelien's charge - to leave the Academy for a few days and join her on official business. The degree of 'business' might vary: At any rate, the feast was expected to be more focused on politicking and learning about power structures than having to draw a weapon or draft a contract.

Their arrival was disjointed. When the shuttle in which Otakar arrived touched down on the landing pad, the Lord was already there, hands clasped behind her back and an uptight posture. The Acolyte took a few long strides, quickly emerging from the ship. With a quick bow of the head, he greeted her "Lord Thelien"

Her eyes, ever so scrutinizing, looked him over before she let out a stand-offish "Acolyte. Let us be off"

He nodded and followed, half a step behind her as she moved. His curious gaze lingered on her for a few meters until he eventually asked about his fellow acolyte "What about Uonil?"

"Inside." she spoke with a strict voice before offering a somewhat arrogant smirk "The perks of arriving early"

Otakar looked to the Lord with a bit of surprise, his brows clearly questioning what she had just said. Had one reached out through the force, they would likely have sensed the doubt oozing off of him. If Lord Thelien did, she did a good job in not showing it, for without skipping a beat, she continued leading the duo into the building in which the feast would be held. Soon, Uonil appeared to greet them.

"My Lord" he spoke, bowing deeply. The Gran offered his fellow acolyte an acknowledging nod before joining the duo. Now, both acolytes followed the footsteps of Thelien until they all arrived at the grand hall.

Moving through the double doors sliding open upon their approach, Otakar looked out over the feast. There seemed to be a few others present already - but in the grand scheme of things, they appeared to be relatively early.

"Forget about the food" - the Lord snapped as she glanced back at the acolytes before turning around to face them "You are here because you excelled in Rothlyn's task - you are not here for leisure. Tonight, you shall observe me as I interact, both with the other Lords, and the locals. If I beacon for you, you show up, if I don't, you'll observe from a distance. We'll go through the hows and whys later."

The acolytes acknowledged her instructions in unison. With that, the trio dispersed with Thelien approaching a fellow lord and her charges staying a few meters away. Otakar glanced to Uonil who moved off to the side where he could see the Lord's and enjoy the food at the same time. Chuckling, the young Acolyte moved in the opposite direction, picking up a drink and positioning himself by a high table nearby, choosing to observe Lord Thelien just as much as the others present.

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Objective: Drink and debate

Tags: Kimora Min Kimora Min | Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron
How exactly Kurayami ended up on the bridge of this Sith star destroyer listening to these conversations...well that was fuzzy. Something about an intercepted transmission of a party on Ogem? Was it even intercepted? But then why would he have been brought to the bridge? some sort of airspace violation or something? Whatever he was here now and they were talking about what sounded to be invasion plans or maybe not. Could just be assassination of the ruling class and replacing them with a puppet government, he hadn't paid super close attention after the first guy talked.

The Corellian did recognize that man as Darth Strosius Darth Strosius though he couldn't remember where the man fell in ther heirarchy of the Sith Order right at the moment. Wise not to piss off for sure, and he did have the added benefit of the fact that there was a good chance no one on this bridge knew who he was. As long as he didn't make any enemies right oft the bat and kept the helmet in place he should, in theory, be okay. Sipping from his flask through the retractable straw in his helmet he piped up, at worst he would likely be thrown off the bridge and hopefully not in the literal sense.

"Hey, so take my suggestion with a grai of salt. Yea, ya probably don't know me, that ain't important right now, hell I ain't really sure how I got here. Pretty sure my invite got lost, but I heard your first speech there sir, apologies for not addressing you by name and title. I would If I knew. Anyways, here's how I'd approach it personally. You go down, take out only who you got to in government, after that? Let the rich have their bloodgames, get some nice resorts set up, some luxury VIP suites for the arenas. No expenses spared deals, no matter what they want...you bring it.

In addition, get you casinos the likes that Canto Bight and the Hutts will be droolin' over 'em. Live entertainers booked from all over the galaxy of every sort. Yes, turn this place into an absolute resort. Why not? People need downtime, the rich here want their fancy shit, and the bloodgames? Use those to indoctrinate and weed through recruits for you. Hell, bloodgames don't mean people gotta die. Just that blood gets spilled. Make them spectacles and send the losers out into the fray indoctrinated that they are going on to earn their freedom in the end. Give them commanders that know what they are doing and give those men a script to follow so that when the new meat gets sent into the grinder they hear tell of the glorious battles their comrades fought and earned their freedom through. Who said you tell them their only freedom is in death, hmm?

But what does the random drunk man know, eh? Like I said, just things to think on my friends. "


He chuckled and nodded to those present.
 
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Objective 1​
Drazen scoffed loudly as the rest prattled on about freeing slaves, and how they could serve as a frontline for the war effort. Foolish short sighted idiots, each and every one of them. He rolled his single eye, and then leaned forward onto the desk.​
"If these soldier boys were so good, wouldn't they have gotten free by now?", he asked, offering a second 'hmm' to Alisteri.​
"Think about it, what is one planet really going to offer us terms of an army? Some would be crazies to stab a soldier or two before they get taken down? Radicalize them, and you get some single battalion of cut throats, whoop-de-doo. Do you know what means more?"​
"Money!", he said with his hands up, as though it were obvious.​
"The pleasure world draws business, draws criminals from Hutt Space. Hell, we could get a battalion of free slaves, or we could make deals and get the cartels in the east to join us through a foothold in our Order. Maybe we raid a cantina and warehouse or two to keep them in line, but what difference does some crime make when we get armies out of it!"​

 
Objective 2: Ain't That A Kick

He felt rather odd in this place, creeping forward hidden from the naked and unnaked eyes, behind a small battalion of his Tsis'Kaar were as hidden, as they advanced at a pace that was slower than a run, yet one far quicker than their need for stealth would have implied.

Oh, this specific role was not unusual to him, he had played the game of stealth for years, sabotage, spycraft, and infiltration were all well-known to him.

Yet, for what he was specifically here to do, having clandestinely been brought aboard this trade station.

He could not help but feel that in a more ideal world, him and Ali- Darth Strosius Darth Strosius ' positions would have been flipped. It would have been he that was about to... acquire wares from this newly brought in Sith world, that had not yet been compliant, and it would have been Malum who would have to hold a far less material mask and handle the conundrum that was Sith politics.

Yet here they were in reversed roles, and he could only hope that it would be to their salvation, rather than their bereavement.

Still considering that it was Ali- Darth Strosius, and this world engaged in slavery.

He did pity those who ruled here, his bro- battlebrother, was far from merciful.

And no matter how much they were now at odds, they remained as ever, reliant on each other.

He ended his idle thoughts, as they finally reached the cargo bay, the station had been far from deserted thus far, but gazing forth at the merchantmen surrounded by their cargo, readying to be transported away from the Empire, having not paid their rightful dues, it seemed that most gathered here, no doubt wishing to leave quickly before the invasion fleet currently at Loovria turned to inspect them.

Unfortunately, for them, the Sith were already here.


"Now." He whispered into his wristcomms, as the Tsis'Kaar flooded out, as wraiths, unseen, unnoticed, taking up prominent positions, high and low, surrounding these... perhaps not yet traitors.

But they would certainly be terrified out of any treasonous inclinations.

Nothing occurred at first, idle, loud conversations between fat merchant lords, ready to make far more wealth, most expecting it to be their last large haul before restrictive Sith trading practices came alive, a louder, if small minority, seeming to believe they could leverage their superior economic position to gain some concessions, from a struggling Sith economy.

All were silenced as out of hyperspace, boomed the arrival of a Sith cruiser, followed by a carrier almost immediately after. All eyes upon the Ragathor, and the Alvaria, the guns of the former were already standing at the ready, turning to face their query, while the latter disgorged its cargo, wings of fighters and bombers flowing out if its hanger bays.

Some of the burghers rushed to the viewports, not entirely believing what they saw, all the while others rushed to their transports, ready to take the risk to flee.

Unfortunately.

There would be no escape for them.

For those that gazed around, they were given a heart dropping sight, where once there had been nothing and no one, now stood masked individuals, lightsabres drawn, blasters pointed, masked and infamous.

The Tsis'Kaar gazed towards them silently.

And their master stepped forward, allowing his cloak and stealth to fall.

Masked in the same helm as his great and most famous ancestor.

The newly minted, and youngest, member of the Dark Council.


"On suspicion of fraud and war profiteering, by the authority of the Emperor and the Tsis'Kaar, all individuals here shall be taken into custody, and your cargo temporarily seized." He allowed a beat to pass, reaching forth to his mask, a hiss erupting as it unlatched from his face, drawn back underneath his robes, as the aristocratic, aquiline features of Malum were revealed to all, framed by raven locks, all focused upon cold ruby eyes.

"Does any protest?"
 
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Iuuna marched with purpose, her dark cloak billowing behind her, the soft hum of her lightsaber a constant reminder of her power. Her silver eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked to her acolyte, Eira Dyn, who matched her stride. Eira's face was a mixture of determination and apprehension, a reflection of the weight of the task ahead.

"Our goal this day is clear, Eira," Iuuna began, her voice a silken whisper laced with the edge of command. "Ogem will fall in line, and their trade flotillas shall be repurposed for the Empire." The air around them crackled with anticipation as they moved through the hangar. Once aboard the shuttle its engines roared to life, and they ascended towards the Ogemite space station, a critical hub for the planet's vast trading network.

The shuttle's interior was dimly lit, the atmosphere tense and focused. "First," Iuuna continued, her gaze fixed ahead, "we'll see to controlling the station. Second, we will convey the message that Ogem now belongs to the Sith Empire." She glanced at Eira, her expression stern but encouraging. "Our first task will be to disable the docking clamps, ensuring that no one leaves."

As the shuttle approached the space station, Iuuna could see the bustling activity of the Ogemite traders through the viewport. The station was a hive of commerce, with ships docking and departing in a steady stream. "Quinn Varanin shall be joining us for this operation," Iuuna added, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. Quinn's presence would add another layer of strength to their mission.

The shuttle docked smoothly, and Iuuna led Eira through the airlock, stepping into the sterile, brightly lit corridors of the space station. The traders, oblivious to the imminent change in their fortunes, moved about their business, their chatter and the hum of machinery filling the air.

Iuuna motioned for her apprentice to stay beside her a moment longer. "Once we've reached the command center, we'll broadcast the message that their apolitical stance is no longer tenable. Their survival and prosperity are tied to us, the Sith Empire."

Her voice lowered to a more intimate tone, though still carrying the weight of authority. "Remember, Eira, we are the architects of the Sith's future. Show these traders the power of the dark side, remind them that we are here to bring them stability. We gain nothing from the ashes; destruction should be a last resort."

As they navigated the corridors, Iuuna took off a small satchel from her bag and handed it to Eira. "I've brought charges if absolutely necessary to disable the docking clamps," she said. "But use them wisely. Our aim is control, not chaos."

"Quinn should be here shortly," Iuuna said, her voice steady. Ogemite technicians and traders scarcely noticed their arrival. Iuuna's presence, however, soon drew their attention. She moved with the grace and confidence of a seasoned leader, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of resistance. "Let's take those charges and make our way to the docking bay."


 

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Objective: 1
Location: Somewhere else, appearing as a hologram
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Kimora Min Kimora Min | Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron | Nefaron Nefaron | Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn | Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris

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“Goodness it just warms my heart to see that I’m in agreement with most of the leadership here. At least for some of ya’ll.” Diodoros piped up in a rather cheery tone as he looked around those in attendance within the ship’s meeting room. He wasn’t physically there however, merely a bright blue holographic image of the brutish privateer.

There seemed to be two others there that seemed to express a desire to keep the powers that be on Loovria. “As a former gladiator myself I can appreciate that you understand the importance of spectacle in the arena. It’s a sport and its participants are athletes, not soldiers.” Diodoros said to the armored man. The Firrerreo was someone who’d been quite the celebrity back in Hutt Space. The culture was something he was often fond of, but the gluttonous decadence of those in charge was not something he admired much.

“But seriously do you bigwig aristocrats really need to make a new pleasure world for yourselves? Why don’t you invest in what you have already. If you want Nar Shaddaa so bad just invite some Hutts to Jutrand, you won’t be able to tell the difference then I assure.” The hologram of Diodoros continued, being a little snarky in response to the cyclops in attending the meeting.

Then he shrugged casually. “But what I’m really just some glorified hired muscle so it ain’t gonna be my call at the end of the day. I just hope we can see a regime change on Loovira. My heart goes out to the bloodsport champions afterall.” He’d certainly love to to have his leash loosened and allowed to go cracking skulls on behalf of the fellow gladiators.
 
While she was not physically present for the meeting onboard the Regicide, an odd name for a ship within the Sith fleet, she was listening in on the discussion as it began. The rage at Alisteri's voice rose, but she tempered it down immediately as she listened to his suggestions that they support the slaves over the establishment on the planet. His idea that they identify key command points to strike and then turning the planet over to these gladiators to run was... she would bite her tongue from interjecting at first.

Darth Nefaron riased the possibility of furthering the idea, throwing the gladiators as 'liberators' to distract the Alliance and Jedi. She paused as she heard the next voice speak. How in the karking Nether had Kurayami Bloodborn of all people gotten into the meeting? She would look over at her wife for a moment, a look of perplexion on her face, before turning back into his suggestion that they instead double down on the entertainment value of the world and create an illusion of freedom for the gladiators.

The Emperor's brother spoke next, voicing aloud the derision he felt towards the slaves and mocking their ability to finish their revolution on their own. The man angling for control of the economy understood there were credits to be made here, and that a few former slave warriors drafted into their forces were not cost effective. Another voice spoke up, one she was unfamiliar with, that expressed sympathy towards the slaves and hoped to see regime change on the world.

It seemed fairly split at the moment.

"All excellent suggestions," her voice would drawl out before the image of Darth Arcanix, one of the newly installed Dark Councilors, appeared to join the meeting. She would look directly at Alisteri as she spoke, amethyst eyes boring into his mask. "But some issues. Lord Strosius, Lord Nefaron, if we ended up siding with the slaves in their revolt and throw down the established government and infrastructure on this world, it would invite utter chaos and disfunction onto the planet. Would your battle-hardened warriors be able to form a government? Run an economy? Create a planet that would benefit this Empire long term instead of a short-term infusion of perhaps some warriors? No, they wouldn't."

Her image would begin walking around the table.

"I would be inclined towards Lord Lutris' and Mr. Bloodborn's proposal as it leaves the world relatively intact and begins bringing wealth and resources into the Empire, however, with the revolt ongoing and our policy towards slavery within the Empire in general, we would need to find a compromise position... unless Lord Lutris suggests we simply wipe out all the rebels and the world starts fresh?"

That was always an option, an extreme one at that, but an option. She certainly was not about to support the position of the man who had struck at her and her family.
 

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Nefaron Nefaron | Objective I
Xeykard had never been the boardroom sort.

A brief and misguided bout of curiosity had made him call in -- but it quickly became clear that no one in the room had even a mote of authority or sense. Half of them were not even Sith. Even entertaining the freedom of the enslaved was laughable. Allow such things, and rebellion would fester elsewhere. It would be a show of weakness. Allowing release of their own property was foolish beyond imagining.

True strength required taking. The slavers of Loovria had taken their world. Nefaron had taken the life of his master. What else was there? And so, Xeykard took.

His legion marched forward, putting out the fires of revolt. Mighty as they may have been in the ring, the battlefield was a different beast; the well-oiled Sith military machine was put to work, decisively routing and destroying the enemy. But in places he allowed attempts -- the strongest were captured and subdued, brought to be held by the legion. Here, he watched Nefaron in his savage battle against his former equals.
 
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Fio shrugged when Taeli looked her way, "Your guess is as good as mine, how Bloodborn gets anywhere, Force only knows." The once Lord Admiral of the Sith Empire's navy listened as her wife spoke, recounting the opinions that had already been voiced.

Standing a little farther from the holoprojection, Fio kept her thoughts private between herself and Taeli. Her mind lingered on their plans. I've sent you the new schematics for our variant of Dark Troopers, as well as schematics for a new vessel I'll be introducing for this campaign.

"Loovria will make an excellent source for new legionnaires," she whispered over her shoulder, glancing toward Taeli. "Those gladiators for shock troops, leverage the wealthy to keep them in line. Dangle the carrot, so to speak. Choosing one side or the other is too much." She then admitted, "Bloodborn's actually got a good point."

Just then, a ping on the comms drew Fiolette's attention. She raised a brow in curiosity, unsure of who could be contacting her at this moment. As she narrowed her gaze, a realization dawned on her. "It's Aerys," she said, a mixture of surprise and concern evident in her voice.


 
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Something that Yaadri had quickly realised during his short time associated with The Sith Order was that an acolyte needs to not only prove themselves somewhat useful to be worth kept around but to make a name for themselves. Notoriety, fame, reverence.

The acolyte had been training as of late, his peers quickly learning he didn't play nice with others. Specifically alien species that were much different biologically from himself. Though, he had now been given a chance to display his ability, being dispatched to assist in the neutralisation or destruction of the trade flotillas which were planning to leave the system.

Yaadri had smuggled himself aboard the flotilla, which was far easier than he imagined. A shuttle aboard Ogem's surface scheduled to bring some of the last supplies aboard the flotilla was easy enough for the acolyte to sneak aboard, eventually dispatching it's small and over-extended crew which gave little resistance. Whilst the Ogemites were a near-human species, they appeared weak and fragile to the much naturally larger Vunakian. It was impossible for him not to pity them, in such, he rewarded them with a swift end.

Finally aboard, he arrived just in time for Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr 's grand appearance from the shadows with the many Tsis'Kaar springing from their hiding spots. With stealth completely out the window, of which Yaadri much preferred to be loud and proud, he nonchalantly almost skips past the Sith Lord as he calls out to the occupants of the flotilla. He offers a showman like formal bow to him in passing, offering a grin as he wanders past the now hostages he and the Tsis'Kaar had surrounded.

For the acolyte surely could follow orders and offer little help assisting the Tsis'Kaar, but Yaadri was here to prove himself. He would surely find more fun toying with those who would be hiding or attempting to flee the flotilla. He continued his playful and light-hearted skip off towards the vessel's command station.

 
Aboard the Brute...

Mordecai yawned. Tendrils of steaming caf made his nostrils flare, spurring wakefulness. Then he yawned again, mouth agape wide enough to make his jaw click in discomfort. Mordecai sagged deeper into his chair, mug in hand, and continued to watch bridge officers and technicians scurry to and fro. Then his gaze shifted to the expansive viewport. A picturesque shot of open space, dotted with blinking stars and the occasional wayward flare of a dying sun.

The low thrum of eleven ion engines at low power almost made his eyes close. The mug in his hand sagged pitifully.

A pair of boots snapping together drew his attention. The Sith Lord cast a rueful glare at the interloper: one First Lieutenant Jon Harsk, heels together at attention. Smart, crisp, professional.

"What is it?" A gruff grumble.

"Just a situation report, my Lord." Lieutenant Harsk made a miniscule adjustment; nervous, "My apologies for rousing you."

Mordecai snorted and made a move to sit up straighter in his seat. The now stabilized mug of caf found its way to his lips for a long, deep draw. "Nonsense, son. Just resting my eyes. Go ahead, report."

"Yes, sir. We reached the Ogem sector seven minutes ago, right on time. We're a micro-jump away from Ogem and Ogem station itself. The Brute's far enough that their scanners won't be able to pick us up." Harsk paused before continuing. " Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr and his Tsis'Kaar have made their move on the central station just now. Iuuna Talon Iuuna Talon and her counterparts have boarded and will be disabling the station's avenues of escape."

Mordecai pursed his lips and nodded approvingly. A very smooth operation so far. By the book, just like every other one he'd done. World after world for the nascent Sith Empire as a boy, for the One Sith when he reached manhood, and every iteration of Sith since Mordecai had been alive. It felt different now... being on cleanup and occupation duty rather than storming the gates with legions of soldiers and fighters screaming through the skies.

But it was a necessary evil he supposed.

"Inform Lord Malum and Knight Talon that we're at their disposal for now. Send a signal when the station is disabled and we'll handle the rest." Mordecai raised his mug towards Harsk. "Carry on, Lieutenant."

They were the anvil, Mordecai was the hammer.
 
This was the first mission that Eira would be taken with her new Master. Iuuna was demonstrating the ways that the Sith played the game, took control. It was not always through violence, it was not always a method of the clenched fist. Eira needed to see this, she needed to understand how to handle a situation that was not through violence and wasn't a method that inflicting pain. When dealing with those who had something she wanted, or standing against her, Eira always previously took methods of violence and ensuring their destruction. Not jumping into the negotiations that garnered mutual benefits. She did not think about improving the lives of others and that method could improve her own.

This was also a chance to encounter someone else new. Quinn Varanin. It was a name that her master seemed to hold in high regard, which meant that they had to be someone of high status and very powerful. Eira already knew that her Master did not respect any who were not at least matching the skills and powers that she had herself, which was a mindset that Eira shared. Why respect those who were lesser?

Wearing the robes that her Master insisted she wore while on mission, Eira was getting used to the feeling of not being in her usual attire and how the fabric moved and clung to her body. She wasn't thrilled about the attire but it was required and Eira knew that over time that she would be more comfortable in this style of outfit.

Nodding her head as she listened, her eyes gazed over the command centre. Taking in all the information, she had never really been on a station like this and able to see how things worked in regards to this. "I..." Eira was a little overwhelmed with how much new things she was taking in before she composed herself once again, "I am sure that they will see the error of their ways in attempting apolitical approach." She was intrigued in how they would demonstrate their powers without bringing ashes. Nodding her head, "I will not act without your say beforehand, Master." Eira was not thrilled to restrict herself but she needed to demonstrate her willingness to learn and progress. Eira was also unsure about her abilities and the skills she had would be able to do anything but bring chaos and burn everything to ashes.

"Yes Master," Eira followed Iuuna as she led the way to the docking bay with the charges. It was exciting to have the explosives but they were going to be controlled. Something that Eira was interested to see since the explosion usually creates chaos and fire from her experiences.
 

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By blade, by hammer, by fist, by claw, and by fang. There was no mercy for those thrown into the ring with Nefaron. Blood scattered, be it his own or his foes, but he never fell. He'd traded one ring, one cage, for another in the eyes of many. But he knew better. Through victory, his chains would be broken. Such thoughts didn't last too long, though, as he gave fully to rage and hate to stay up, stay alive. No matter what injuries he sustained, he would not go down.

He would not loose.

He dropped yet another broken corpse at his feet, his breathing raged, his eyes practically glowing with the Dark.

He would survive.

Xeykard Xeykard
 
Prophet of Bogan
Codex Judge

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Objective: Instill Rule of the Strong
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Robes
Tags: Kimora Min Kimora Min / Darth Nefaron Darth Nefaron / Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn / Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris / Diodoros Diodoros / Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf / Fiolette Yvarro Fiolette Yvarro

There would be a subtle tilt of his head as someone came to stand at his side, his hidden gaze flickering to the Agent and looking her up and down for a moment. "Agent Min." He spoke low with a nod. "Always a pleasure." Someone he knew by reputation alone, aside from a very fleeting overlap in their assignments on a previous mission, but one that he was inclined to keep around. Why she chose to stand next to him was something he didn't bother to question given that there was no obvious hostility. Yet.

Darth Strosius would return his attention to the discussion at hand as Darth Nefaron, one of the warlords of the Kathol Campaign if he recalled correctly, spoke and agreed with his own assessment. Then he continued, expanding upon simply putting down the existing government and instead fully backing the rebellious masses so that they could spread to other nearby worlds. "A sound strategy, one that would no doubt help us gain some support among the locals in our future efforts. Brilliantly put as usual, Darth Nefaron."

Then an armored fellow with a flask in hand rose his voice to the discussion, talking of seemingly reestablishing the previous status quo of the world albeit with a Sith twist. To keep the entertainment while at the same time securing the loyalty of the gladiators. An interesting proposal, one that straddled the line between two extremes, but one that the masked man himself wouldn't be fond of. They simply had no need for such entertainment on a warpath. "An interesting proposal."

A silent sigh escaped him as the, at least in his mind, unwelcome Lord of Terminus spoke up to toss aside any notion of siding with the slaves and instead to go all in on keeping the world for its economic opportunities. "Lord Lutris, I never pegged you as one for military matters." Darth Strosius couldn't resist glaring at the Corpse Emperor's kin out of the corner of his eye. "But surely even you must have some sense to realize that letting criminals and gangsters run amok in our backlines is an unwise decision? If you want Hutt support then I'm sure they'd be placated with a foothold on Terminus just as well."

Diodoros, a gladiator of some repute himself, added onto the discussion from his personal perspective in regards to the rebelling slaves and arena combatants. "Athletes they may be, but everyone can become a soldier with proper training. If anything they already have a good starting point to expedite such." At least he wasn't fond of the idea of keeping the existing government of the world in power, some common ground that they could benefit from.

Then a new hologram flickered to life at the meeting table and Darth Strosius felt his fangs grind together as a familiar voice spoke right before the image of the Dark Councilor herself appeared in the blue light. And as expected she just had to take her stance against himself and Darth Nefaron, siding with Drazen and the rich of the world. He clicked his tongue in disgust and sat up in his chair, folding his hands on the table and returning the pitiless stare she had fixed him with in a hidden glare of his own.

"I do believe that we are the ones responsible for establishing new governments and fixing economies on the worlds we claim are we not? Is that not the duty we inherit alongside the world itself? Appoint a governor and have them run Loovria just as we always do." Such was the way of the Sith Order in its past conquests, he saw little need to alter such an established procedure now. "We are marching through the Mid-Rim and towards the Core, wealth and resources are plenty here. But so are people. People that we will need to manage, to rule, and to account for. By showing our hand as liberators rather than subjugators perhaps our warpath need not be so bloody until we reach the Alliance's border. Then we can ravage the Jedi and their wretched allies with our full force, rather than wasting it having to put down local revolts just because greed became more important than strategy in our plans."

 
Fiolette stepped into the holo, her presence commanding and her icy azure gaze fixed unwaveringly on the masked coward before her. She wondered what Strosius was going on about in his convoluted reasoning. "I am so glad that you can see reason, Darth Strosius. After all, these wealthy traders are sure to bow to our whims. As cowardly as they are," she added pointedly, a detail he knew all too well, "we need not, as you said, be so bloody. Take the world as is, appoint a governor, but it shall be the Dark Council's decision, not yours. You march nowhere without the hearts and minds of the people, even someone as well-versed in war as yourself should know that."

Her tone was as cold as ice, each word cutting like a blade. "I believe Lutris and Raaf speak clearly and plainly, and it seems you are of the same mind. Of course, I am glad to hear that you can be reasoned with," she continued, her words dripping with venom. "Then the matter is closed, is it not? Let us tarry no further on the world of Loovria. The athletes remain as they are. It should be their honor to serve the Sith Empire. How else might they prove their worth to their new masters?"

She took a step closer, her gaze narrowing even further. "I think perhaps you would be wise to listen to Mr. Bloodborn. He has been a close ally of myself and my wife for decades now. Perhaps he can introduce you to the ideals of war, after all. War requires courage, not cowardice." Fiolette's stare was unrelenting, a silent dare for Strosius to challenge her authority. "Remember, Strosius, true power lies not in the subjugation of the weak, but in the strategic application of strength. For all men at some point in their lives are weak. "


 

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