Building From The Ash-era(OS Dominion of Ashera)

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Saffron"]

“Indeed.”

He said quietly before turning away from the viewport and back towards the console. The ship had touched down, the massive durasteel cables that kept the ship in place began to expand and pull out into the earth around them. Shil watched the readouts for a few seconds, then shifted from one foot to the other.

His eyes caught Saffrons for a moment before quickly looking away.

“Report?”

He called out to one of the ensigns aboard the ship. For a few seconds he heard nothing back, then he received an answer.

“Sir. The Mineral deposits are directly below us. The ore veins reaches several miles down. We'll have to take samples before mining the ore itself, but preliminary scans indicate that the research team was correct in its initial findings.”

The Selonian nodded. This was a good thing, a very good thing. If the reports were correct, then Titan Industries and ATC were about to be able to construct stronger ships for little to no cost increase, a great boon in this day and age where war was everything.

 

[Saffron]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

"To what extend do the mineral deposits reach to?" came Saffron's next question. Was the mineral only in this specific area on Ashera? Or could there perhaps be other ore deposits?

There was also the issue of whom those property rights belonged to. The ongoing civil war between the various religious clans on Ashera meant that property disputes could potentially hinder progress. Arceneau Trade was the type of company that could not risk a tarnish to their reputation; ensuring that everything was gained through as much legal means as possible meant that the trust in the Arceneau name would not go unfounded.

Thankfully, they did not have to deal with this when it came to Citadel Station. They had the full permission of the Host Lord. Now all it took was the time to ensure its completion.

 

[Vrag]

Objective: Suppress Lightside cults 2.0 Make a really big mess
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3bQ7wL1f0o​

She felt his presence fade into the distance as he disappeared behind those looming walls, eluding the flickering eyes of the defenders. These cultists weren't trained for war, and while a few Force users could be felt dotting the fort here and there, their numbers were insignificant in the face of the assault being launched by the Sith. Theirs was a force of more than twenty thousand strong, and black swarmed the foot of the mountain like a spreading stain of dark, tainted blood. The planet would feed off of it, echoing the terrors committed upon its soil and absorbing them like a good, subservient pet. After all, it had known the gentle touch of its rightful masters before, and it would bend its back before them again.

Blue eyes focused on the towering refuge that she would soon tear down — well, not literally, of course, that would be a waste, and she was nothing if not practical — but she'd be damned if she stopped before the last of its inhabitants lay dead before her feet. The Otliq'Nuhlrokka were nearing the citadel built into the face of the mountain if the chatter over her oggzil was any indication, and she had confidence that the fire-spewing horrors would strike paralyzing fear into whatever resistance they encountered there. With the back covered by Vong riders and Reverance himself, Vrag was free to focus on the frontal assault, so that's what she did.

The first wave had already reached the thick durasteel door, and while imposing, the barrier wouldn't stand very long in the face of hundreds of blast bugs being launched at it. The little creatures had a mean bite, and the alloy already looked dented and bent.

With the gates bare minutes away from destruction, the Hand commanded the rest of the legions to move forward with a few curt orders into her organic mouthpiece. Had the defenders been a more… warring people, they might've stood a chance against the invading force, but they clearly weren't, considering the poor fight they'd put up in the encampment. Unless the ones holding out in the rocky redoubt were a completely different sect, the firrerreo expected the battle would be quick and brutal once the Vong breached the doors. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation, and lips curled into a hungry sneer behind her mask when she joined the yelling monsters leading the charge. Horns, Vonduun and all, the woman would easily disappear in the rushing mass, just one more abomination in a sea of thousands.

And then the doors finally, mercifully gave out with a long groan, falling down to squash a good dozen defenders with a wet, crunching sound. Vrag shed an invisible tear for one more door that wouldn't be surfed, but whatever sorrow she felt was swiftly swept away by the thrill of the hunt that electrified her body, infusing every strike with a fervor that made her seem like something not quite of this world. She poured into the stronghold with the second wave of the Vong, igniting her lightsaber only when cultists came into view — wouldn't do to expose herself prematurely, after all — and slicing into the first few with gusto. They were as poorly armored as their camp counterparts, and nearly as terrified.

Then again, who wouldn't be, in their position?

A question for another time, surely. Right now the Hand of the Dark Lord was busy doing her job, and boy was she doing it well. Something about loving your work came to mind, but Vrag was too busy carving into cultists to really pay it any heed.

 

[Sage Bane]

OBJECTIVE: Suppress lightside cults
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"]

Still racked with pain from the severance of his limb, Sage found a type of solace in his illusion, engrossing himself so deeply within it that he felt almost as if he were sinking into in the bottomless dark water of his own re-occuring dream. He was vaguely aware that Matsu was still somewhere close, ready to pull him out before he drowned. A gentle hand on his shoulder stirred him back to reality, and he turned his head towards his Master, brown eyes searching hers with a pained expression. As the dreamer awoke, he miserably hitched a breath at the tremendous agony emanating from his raw, scorched stump. The pain had been dulled while the two were still creating, but now that he turned his focus to it, his mangled flesh throbbed with a new-found vengeance. Still, there was an unreality to the situation that helped him accept it, and for that he was thankful.

Sage was also grateful for the ride to the fortress as it gave the two illusionists a brief respite, and a chance to recharge their power. The young Acolyte caught his Master watching him, and instead of averting his eyes as he did when they first met on Coruscant, he met Matsu’s stare. In his quest for knowledge, he had traveled into the forbidden places in her mind, and just as a hungry student would explore an ancient temple full of unknown power, he had made his own discoveries in the darkest depths of her psyche. He had defied her and lived through it. It made him feel closer to her, and less afraid of the final beast. As their transport reached the fortress, his face widened into a warm smile that told her that he would be loyal. No more thoughts of running away. He was no longer a caged animal, but a willing participant in the fate that they both would make for him.

Taking a cue from Matsu as they moved back into formation, she opened up the space for them to share once again. He watched her work, still in awe of how hyper-realistically beautiful her illusions were. Then Sage began to spin, the pulsating magic washing over him, soothing the pain of his mutilated body. In order to keep the illusion believable, the Acolyte continued in the natural vein, drawing from the dark black water, the same water that drowned him in relentless nightmares, to rush through the valley, swelling up around Matsu’s boulders. The cultists’ mouths hung agape at a tidal wave that came churning towards the fortress, its waters as black as night, and those who were not immediately swept away, would flee from the fortress as they ran for their lives.

 

[Darth Timoris]

Objective: Rid the planet of the local branch of The Cult of Those Who Redeem

It was a long walk to the town hall but an hour later they were there. Like most metropolitan buildings nowadays, it was manned every hour of the a day. Galactic time-zones meant shifts were needed to deal with the requirements for permanent support and assistance.

It was an unremarkable building. Mostly concrete and durasteel, the few windows indicating which offices were occupied as the light shone forth from them. And judging by that fact, most people were still at work. It didn’t take long to find the office number of the government official they were looking for. Regardless of his rank, there was something about a squad of armoured troopers to ease the tongue of even the most bureaucratic local government official.

There was a surreal moment when they realised they couldn’t all fit in the lift together and then had to stand squashed together, listening to the piped lift-music as they ascended to the fiftieth and uppermost floor.

For the mayor had the best office in town. And judging by the hallway, it covered half the entire floor. The secretary’s position was empty – she was no doubt safely tucked up somewhere, so Melori simply scanned the desk and found what she was looking for. A press of a button and the tell-tale sound of a door unlocking told them they could proceed.

Entering the room, two sights caught the eye. The first was the view – all of the walls were made of glassteel and from floor to ceiling they afforded a view of a city – its lights blinking. The second sight was…well, the view. The secretary was actually tucked up in a position that looked quite uncomfortable. And as for safe? That was debatable.

The man blustered and did his best to pull his trousers up. Melori sighed. “Don’t bother on our account.”

“Do you expect me to talk?” the mayor said, “really?” There was a defiance in his voice, despite all the rifles pointed at his chest. It was almost a pity not to make him.

“No,” Melori said, “I expect you to die.” The old lines were always the best! She lifted her left hand and the nearest window blew out. A further wave of her hand and his body was lifted and flung through the gap.

“There may be something interesting in the data, if your boys fancy taking a look.”

The staff-sergeant nodded and one of his men started to access the closest data-port.

Melori looked at the woman now. “Please, pull your skirt down and go and make me some stim-caf. Black, no sweeteners.” Funnily enough, despite her early fears about commanding others, Melori had now decided she could get quite used to it.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Saffron"]

“According to these readings the ore deposits are localized here.”

He paused for a moment, looking over his shoulder and checking to see if the figures were correct.

“The deposit however is deep. Some small scattered remnants on the surface, but it seems that the majority is deep within the valley, mostly under the north mountains.”

For a few moments he remained silent, then he gave the datapad to Saffron, offering the small mechanical device. Upon it would be a map of the ore deposits. They would show extensive projections of where the ore veins ran through the mountains. It would also show the fact that Titan Industries mining machines would need nearly a week to reach those deeper veins.

 

[Saffron]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

Saffron took the datapad, reviewing the information therein. Her thumb would scroll across the screen, bringing with the various figures and maps to the fore.

"One week." she would echo, "Do we want to produce locally?" she would ask in terms of the foundries required to make a new alloy. Not to mention having to bring other materials and start the process of testing out what this new alloy could do. Theories were one thing; seeing the end process in the results was another.

An expensive venture, but if successful, would mean a sure profit for both companies.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"]
Objective: Murder

Blade snapped back, blood splattered across the surface of the wall and a thunk permeated through the hallway as the next one in line fell to the ground. Irani was too busy on sliding between the legs of the big guy to notice, his blastsword lashed out and cut his legs out from under him.

A battle was all about the rhythm, about keeping up with the music and sidesteps every way. Though sidesteps weren’t exactly the smartest choice here, too cramped and crowded to really be of use. One sidestep and you found yourself against the wall and that ain’t what you are looking for here and now.

He threw the blade, on auto-repeat and it kept throwing out blasts of plasma as it flew through the air and impaled another mook. Blood was all prevalent, his neatly made suit ruined.

Self-cleaning fabric.

Darell really needed to make that a thing.

 

[Vrag]

Post count: 11
Objective: Suppress what's left of the Lightside cults
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JBoizPA1qV4​

There was high-pitched screaming coming from somewhere above them, and a quick glance when she was afforded a small lull in the incessant pace of battle confirmed her assumptions; the Nuhlrokka were torching those who had taken refuge in the citadel with spouts of white-hot fire, setting aflame everything in reach and sight. Vrag decided that further discipline would need to be instilled in the Otliq when a few scorched rocks came tumbling down from the spire, landing smack-dab in the middle of the fighting. When one hit the ground entirely too close to her liking, the Hand of the Dark Lord figured it was time to remove herself from the bulk of the fighting in the courtyard — well, fighting was perhaps too generous a word; slaughter would be much more fitting — and climb the many levels of the fortress to cut off the head of the snake.

By the looks of things, her army of Vong had things well in hand, and if the terrified, horror-stricken expressions on the cultists' faces were anything to go by, Matsu and her apprentice out in the field were having a ball. She couldn't see what was haunting them this time, for she was conserving her energy to devote herself to combat instead of reaching out with the Force, and whatever might have trickled through was stopped when it met the empty abyss that was the Vonduun Skerr Kyrric.

Vrag continued, mostly unimpeded by the weak, untrained struggling of the few stray defenders that stumbled onto her path. While not particularly gifted in the Force, the woman could and did dish out a devastating amount of damage with her lightsaber alone. And when someone got past her guard in the thick of melée, there was an armored fist ready and waiting to cave in their skull in with a wet smash. There was something uniquely satisfying about feeling the Vonduun reel and coil in delight when it met the orbital and zygomatic, pushing them inward towards the brain. The ethmoid and vomer would soon join in on the fun, and then finally the sphenoid would give out and pierce the dura mater as if it were putty, and then the chitin and the armorweave would bury themselves in the spongy matter as the whole mess was rammed against a nearby wall.

The armored Baphomet dashed through a shoddy barricade erected at the top of a staircase, breaking her fall with a roll over her shoulder as she landed amid a confused and terrified group of defenders. Her red blade came to life with an ominous hiss, lashing out to introduce two of them to the afterlife before they even went to raise their blasters. The rest weren't so lucky to die a quick death, for they would put up a resistance instead of welcoming the searing kiss of her lightsaber.

Such a pity.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

OBJECTIVE: Be proud.
ALLIES: [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"]

This second encampment was far more satisfying than the first if only because of the sheer amount of fortification. Between Vrag’s forces with Irani cutting his way beside her, Reverance decimating all comers in a lone stretch of destruction, the troopers coordinated by capable Admirals, and the illusionist’s combined work however, it was still a fairly easy task. Some of their troopers would be lost that day but the Sith machine always replaced them.

When the tidal wave caught her boulders, rushing their onslaught with the destructive force of nature, she simply stopped to watch such perfection. His pain sang in her mind, the kind of track she’d play over and over. Such profound loss, such consuming affliction, and still he was capable of this. She hoped she’d made Ovmar as proud. She closed her eyes with a flutter of the lids, tilting her head back and breathing deeply as if she could draw in his suffering. He was ready. She waited until his tidal wave crashed, blooming seafoam slamming against the inner façade of the cultists’ stronghold before spilling over the edges, drowning whomever had been unfortunate enough to be cut down and still breathing outside its gates.

When he rested she opened her eyes, turning her head to look upon him. Pale and in desperate need of a medic, but undefeated. “Beautiful, Sage,” she said quietly, foregoing any Huttese nicknames or callbacks to his time as a slave, names of provocation she might have raised to see his power. He was new. He was clean, bathed in agony. Raising a hand, she pressed the signal on her commlink for a dropship before clasping it around his shoulder still attached to an arm. “Come. It would be a shame for you to die on this battlefield now that you’re a Knight.”

She got a quick response, the harsh rush of air from the repulsors of the ship flattened the grass behind them, her hair whipping around her face as she turned to escort him to the ship that would take him to the medical bay of a Sith starship up in atmosphere.

THREAD EXIT​

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Saffron"]

For a moment Shil considered.

“Yes. I think it will reflect back on us better if we at least refine locally. It will gain some employment for the Asherans, though it will likely be more expensive.”

That was fine. Half of this business was public relations, especially now that Corellia was broken in half and Titan was investing so much funding into looking good. The same could be said for Telos and Citadel Station. If Titan Industries didn't look good in the galaxy, then it would at least look good to those worlds that the One Sith controlled.

He gazed at the woman for a second.

It was the right decision. Local production would increase productivy and quell any problems that might arise.

 

[Khallesh]

Heedless of the danger, Khallesh screamed out a war cry. It drew the attention of the cultists in the room at the end of the corridor. These catacombs held the very weakest of their enemy. Cowering wretches who could not protect themselves. Almost below her station dealing with such creatures.

And yet she still charged down the corridor first, as was her right as subcommander of these units. Already bruised and bloodied from the battle, she still refrained from drawing her staff, hoping to gain at least some sport. She barrelled into the group, dragging three of them down with her. Vaguely aware of several of the humans cowering away, she focussed on her immediate opponents.

One of them tried to shift his bulk on top of her, but her elbow came back around swiftly. There was a sickening crack and his eyes rolled up before he crumbled to the floor like a rag doll. Shifting herself around she got one leg over her second opponent, a human female who was pathetically slender. Skinny arms tried to block her path, but she rained down blow upon blow until her hands were slick with red blood.

Khallesh grasped the creature by the hair, lifting its limp head to check for life. The huntress grunted her disappointment as she picked herself up from the cold flagstones. The fat one she was stuck had already been dispatched and the third was futilely struggling against another from her group. It screamed briefly before a crimson arterial spray cross the room and it was discarded, still gurgling and clasping at the gash across its neck.

Turning to the remaining humans, Khallesh took a moment to appraise them. One was clearly old and frail, the other two children.

“Thralls?” she asked Drskar Val.

“We have too many already,” he replied curtly.

“Well then,” Khallesh said, before sullying her tongue with the infidel language. “Who would like to end their life in glorious battle?” She held her arms out wide, inviting them to attack.

“P…please…” the elderly one replied. The children said nothing, they made a sort of pathetic mewling sound and sniffled. ‘Sobbing’ that was their word, she recalled.

“Pitiful,” she said, shaking her head. “At least the elder one could have found one final moment of glory. You may have swift deaths, despite your cowardice,” she offered. Khallesh turned on her heel and strode back up the corridor to find more prey. Such an act was beneath her. She heard the sound of a couffee being unsheathed behind her, before turning a corner and beginning her search.

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Objective: Mopping up
Allies: [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

The mountainside siege had been fruitful, most of the annihiliation complete. The Blood Monarchs systematically made their way around the compound, either shooting the retreating cultists point blank or gathering them up in lines and executing them firing-squad style. Commander Temi turned from the gore of the battlefield and began the much easier task of planning for immediate disengagement from the battlefield.

“Are there any prisoners or any higher-ranking officers? I can re-route four of the grunts for a friendly extraction if they will come willingly,” Tmoxin said.

“No prisoners,” was the answer. “Direct orders from Warmaster Hauntruss.”

“Okay,” she responded without emotion. “Prepare to pull out once the extermination is complete.”

Because like unwanted pests, that’s essentially what Commander Temi and the Monarchs had done; they had carried out a swift extermination so that the planet could be procured, terraformed, controlled, the valuable resources plundered. Whatever the One Sith wanted to do now with Ashera either for glory or for ill repute, there would be no more opposition from lightsiders to stop them.

 

[Saffron]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

"Then I'll get started with organizing Arceneau resources situated." Saffron would inform the Selonian. Her thumb would go sliding at a quickened pace over her display; with the decision made there was a plethora of things to do. Prefab bases will work for the immediate future, but more permanent fixtures would need to be built.

The incoming transmission would relay the incoming Arceneau Trade and Mara TibX shuttles. They would drop soon to start the surveys as well set up the prefabs.

"The turn around should take about 24 hours -- once we get started on survey's we can get more permanent production facilities."

 

[Khallesh]

Khallesh sprinted down the dark and damp corridor. Her genetically enhanced senses could detect those last creatures fleeing the citadel. Down in the darkest recesses of the undercroft, the Yuuzhan Vong huntress had found a secret escape tunnel.

She was gaining on them, quickly. He legs pumped hard as she gave chase, hastened on as she heard them calling a warning.

As turned a gentle bend and then skidded to a halt. Ten pairs of eyes stared back at her through the gloom. One of them stepped forwards, holding out one arm as if shielding the others.

There was a snap-hiss.

The blue saber sprung into life, and a wide grin formed on Khallesh’ face. Her arachnostaff slithered down her arm and formed itself into a spear, tail end slick with a venomous coating. The wretches behind the Jeedai started to continue their flight.

Khallesh should have called in some kind of warning to her superiors, to let them know to look for an escape tunnel exit and finish the job. However, her mind simply did not work that way. The Sith would see a great threat in allowing the children of a light-sided cult escape, would be terrified at the thought of a resistance movement of powerful Jedi rising up against them in the future.

Khallesh only saw that saber, saw the challenge it represented. Without further pomp Khallesh stalked forwards, she kept her balance on the balls of her feet, waiting for the moment to strike.

 

[Darth Timoris]

Objective: Rid the planet of the local branch of The Cult of Those Who Redeem (completed)

She'd finished the task and the grunts got their hands on some intel that was bound to be of use to the One Sith one way or another. Melori had handled the responsibility of commanding a team and she'd done it her way - earning respect until, from a position of simply being a piece of skirt, she'd become the one they'd followed through choice, not through rank.

By the end, at every twist and turn, she was the one they'd look to for guidance, for direction. And that felt good. But it also felt like a tipping point. As she sat in the transport and headed back to the capital ship, she had her hood up and was thinking. And because she was silent, the men were silent. Even the one that couldn't stop talking to his knife. She wouldn't have minded them talking but it was in some way a mark of respect, so she took it for what it was.

But the fact it was a point of no return hit her for some reason.

'I'd like to know what it's all about
What's out there?
Am I gonna get old and laugh?
About something
Will I get me a boy or a girl?
On not either?
Will I get what I want from this world?
I'm a day dreamer.'

She was a Sith now. Not that she wanted to change the fact, but she was now beyond the point where she could walk away. It was part of her, a second skin. Ask her who she was and she'd say a Sith before she said Melori. That's what it meant to her. But what did the future hold? An early death because she was found unworthy? A life alone as she pursued her vision of ultimate freedom? As she opened her eyes, she figured there was little point in wondering. Would she get what she wanted from this world? Only time could tell, so there was no point in thinking about it.

"Has anyone got any pazaak cards?" she suddenly said and lowered her hood, flashing the squad a wicked smile. "And enough money to even consider going up against me?"


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMDSPmdNiiU

 

[Sage Bane]

[member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Darell Irani"]

Miles of gore painted the battlefield in hues of red and flesh tone. The lucky cultists were corpses. The unlucky cultists were among the ones for whom death would be preferable, the ones grievously maimed, or with shattered minds, or captured, only to be experimented on by eager Sith in the bowels of Coruscant. As Sage's black tidal wave crested over the fortress and then drained down into the scorched earth, leaving countless bodies in its wake, he opened his eyes. As his focus shifted from the illusionary to the real, the pain of his severance roared back to life. A grimace twisted his face. He was pale, drawn, and in need of hydration, his breaths coming shallow and slow.

“Beautiful, Sage,” he heard his Master say, and he managed a weak smile. Praise was like a drug to a narcissist, and he felt its soothing high sinking down into his bones. His lips parted slightly, eyes blinking, at Matsu's next statement. For a moment he doubted that he had not left the dreamspace.

“Come. It would be a shame for you to die on this battlefield now that you’re a Knight.”

Sage had always been nothing. An orphan. A slave. A glit biter. A meat-from-bone-picking bottom feeder. And now he was a Sith Knight. As he watched a line of cultists march in formation towards a stormtrooper execution squad, he meditated on her words, and let his Master help him towards the dropship, taking comfort her warmth around his shoulder. a rare bit of kindness from the cruel. He took one last look at the battlefield, gazing out with hooded eyelids at the fearsome Sith warriors, the Wrath, the Hand, the Blood Monarch Commander, and he indulged himself with a flush of pride to be a soldier in their sovereignty.

THREAD EXIT​

 

[Vrag]

Post count: 12
Objective: Is there one anymore? ;-;
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Khallesh"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZNJn_qTG9o​

There were two of them, those who knew not when to kneel and give up when faced with someone who so clearly outmatched them. Waste was waste, but people who couldn't follow orders were useless to the Sith and by extension useless to the Hand of the Dark Lord. A man and a woman, probably a couple by the looks of things, but they would both find nothing but death as they so foolishly thought to oppose her. Were she less tired, the woman would've simply cracked one's skull against a wall while she dueled the other, but her reserves were somewhat depleted after a whole day on the battlefield. Even with her natural regeneration and the general fitness of her body, the woman was far from insusceptible to exhaustion.

So instead of rushing them both, Vrag chose to conserve her energy, flowing between Makashi and Niman when the situation called for it. One of them was armed with a slugthrower, and as such presented a much bigger threat than the one wielding a blaster; such was the difference, even, that the firrerreo was willing to take a bolt to her side just to get closer to the opponent with a slugthrower.

She sidestepped in time to avoid taking a bullet to the gut, her lightsaber coming down in a swift, smooth motion to slice the weapon in two and render it useless. Another bolt hit her in the back, and the Vonduun hissed, louder, angrier, spurring her into action despite her initial hesitation. The Hand of the Dark Lord twisted her body around to bring more force into her next blow, severing the head of the ex-slugthrower wielder before moving in behind the fallen body, using it as a temporary bolt sink.

As the last man scrambled to hit her, Vrag shoved the dead opponent towards him with a powerful push, sending the corpse crashing into the panicked widower. She approached him with long strides before he could pick himself up from under the dead weight, impaling both him and his former wife with a decisive shiak.

The sounds of battle were fading away outside, and if the reports in the oggzil were anything to go by, things were indeed coming to a bloody close. About fething time.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Objective: Is there one anymore? ;-;​

Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Khallesh"]​

Irani literally didn’t know anymore what to say, he also literally didn’t know anymore what to do and all because he had this particular feeling that this story was drawing itself out into the eventuality of infinity. There was the distinct fear that they would never actually get to leave this boring planet and that they would have to fight endless hordes of beasts just to rack up the posting count.

Self-cleaning fabric.

It seemed smart to think about that fabric as much as possible, the more mentions it got in the thread the more figural development the piece of tech would have and that would make it more approvable in the eyes of those that were relevant.

Finally then, Irani decided to turn this show into something more fun and leaned against the wall next to Vrag. Who was just done killing some guy and his wife, so… edgy.

‘Have I ever told you how hot you look with all that blood on you?’ the businessman ventured with a casual flick of the wrist. Raised eyebrow, slightly smiling. His eyes did not seem all that concerned about the slaughter.

 

[Vrag]

Post count: [13/20]​

Objective: Finish the deed!​

Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Khallesh"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOBeubfr-xY​

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A voice, a very particular voice then called to her in that stale air full of death and ember and charred flesh. She closed her eyes for a moment, turning off her blade now that the killing was done. She wanted to reach up and wipe the sweat off of her brow and wash the taste of blood from her mouth, but pockets of resistance still lingered about the fortress, and she had no desire to die so close to the finish line. No, unlike what holovids liked to teach people, the helmet was the most important protection one could wear to battle, and Vrag had no intention of forgoing that defense.

"Probably?" she replied wryly, opening her eyes to gaze at the owner of that cheeky timbre. Irani, of course.

"On those meadows where we first met, remember?" a faux nostalgic tone crept into her tone through the exhaustion and weariness as the Hand of the Dark Lord turned to gaze at the businessman. Force, how long ago that was. Four years? Five? With all the war she'd waged since then, the woman had long forgotten to count the years, numbering the time by the planets and billions instead.

"And likewise, darling," she smirked through her sharp teeth as she drew closer to the resting beast, reminded again of the fact that he was taller than her. The one thing she forgot even more often than her killcount.

"Come on, the Vong will clean up whatever's left of this mess. Let's get out of here." True to her words, the legions of Yun'Yuuzhan would swarm every inch of the scorched fortress, ravenously seeking out the last of the survivors until naught but a massive hulk of a stronghold was left standing. The Sith could easily repurpose the sturdy building then, for little structural damage had been dealt save for the destroyed front doors, which could easily be replaced with something tougher. It was quite unambiguous, in the end; Ashera had fallen.