Chaos Among The Stars | TSE Dom of Krownest/Gargon

[Eye of Solomon]

​

Mandalore has fallen.

Concord Dawn has capitulated.

The United Clans are no longer united, chaos reigns across the stars.

In the vacuum created by the Clan’s fragmentation, the Sith Empire advances on all fronts. They bring with them the power to level civilizations, to leave behind only ash and destruction on a scale unimaginable. To those that stand in their path they offer a single ultimatum; bend the knee and live under the yoke of the Empire, or resist and see all that you have ever known reduced to atoms before your very eyes.

There are those who submit, their knees bent and their heads bowed, expressions grim as the clenched fist of the Sith looms above. But for every system that rolls over, twice as many take up arms against the encroaching Sith tsunami. Clan Wren of Krownest is one such defier, their spines rigid and their heads turned up proudly in spite of all that assembles before them.

The Empire cares not for their bravado, submission has been rejected.

All that remains is destruction.

Elsewhere, the Sith Empire consolidates what it has already gained. Gargon was one world that capitulated to protect itself, but elements planetside have yet to yield to the Emperor’s Law. In their possession is an absurd amount of spices, both refined and unrefined, enough to make transform any beggar into a prince. The Empire understands the power of the spice trade, and is eager to confiscate all that these pirates possess.

By any means necessary.

Objective I: Clan Wren’s Defiance
When Mandalore fell, the entire United Clan infrastructure collapsed entirely. Entire sectors became independent entities overnight, strengthening their own borders to resist the Imperial wave that threatened to engulf them. Krownest was one such world, the ancestral home of Clan Wren. Though torn in their affiliation with the United Clans, many of Clan Wren remained on Krownest in allegiance with the Infernal. Now with the Empire advancing unchecked, they take up arms to defend their home. Defiance breeds rebellion, and that spark cannot be allowed to ignite. Wipe them out, all of them.

Objective II: G E K O L O N I S E E R D
There are spices on Gargon, spices that could belong to us. But they don’t belong to us, they belong to the filthy pirates who squander the spice. Acquire the spice, for it must flow. Assault the pirate fortress on the planet, and take the spice for the Sith.

Objective III: BYOO

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Objective: [1] Operation Overkill
Location: Krownest, approaching the Wren Stronghold

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Blaster bolts passed each other by, flying past trees while their targets hid behind them. The 421st Crimson Lance slowly pushed towards the Wren Stronghold, while the Mandalorian defenders sought to repel the assault. It was a battle that seemed nearly evenly matched, though this wasn't something that was going to last much longer. Accompanying Colonel Dido and her Lance was the one they had sworn their loyalty to, Darth Avacyn, who was about to make her presence known. Flanking the Mandalorian forces, the Sith Lady made her quiet approach.

Though as quiet as Avacyn was from the outside, that which went on in her mind painted a picture of stark contrasts. Hatred and rage coursed through every fiber of her being, sensations she had never felt more strongly than since the siege of Mandalore. On that day, hatred was the only feeling the woman had left towards those who would call themselves Mandalorian. Only once before had feelings driven her wish to kill, the one who brought her into the Sith and taught her what it meant to be one. One single being then, but now her hatred was held for millions.

All Mandalorians who were to cross Darth Avacyn's path this day, were to meet an unenviable end. Slow, painful, gloryless. As she had suffered, so would they too. Her thirst for vengeance born from the death of Ishana could never be sated. Though Avacyn had been able to pull her wife away from the Netherworld's grasp, the agony of that loss would never truly fade. That agony fuelled her connection to the Force.

An eerie chill, much different from the cold of the environment, filled the air. Then, two flashes of red sprung to life as their source lunged towards a Mandalorian who, the heat of battle, didn't notice her until it was too late. The tree he used as cover against the Sith forces wouldn't help him here.

Avacyn's first victim.

 

[Amaya Cardei]

​

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Gargon.
Grunger Town.


Naveena Deol was the Sith Empire's point on this particular operation, although she was no stranger to the demands of administration. Gargon would prove particuarlly interesting. Her contact would be Umedara Zaar, a representative of Sotta the Hutt's personal cartel - the offer so far was that the Hutt would help reign the planet in for the Sith Empire. In return the Sith would perhaps turn a blind eye to the Hutt's activities, and of course take what was due to them a maintenace fee for the troops as it were. Sotta had his hands on old technology, Fringe, First Order, and others of the like that had come and gone like many nations of this war-torn Galaxy. Grunger Town was the meeting location somewhere in a seedy cantina no less.

The Galidraani would not be alone in her mission, she would be meeting with a represenative within the Intelligence community. A handler it was mentioned somwhere in the stack of documents that had been delivered to her at her Bervie Office on Galidraan III. Thus far her shuttle ride had been quiet but as the clouds pulled away the favelas, ghettos and projects of the slums surrounding 'Grunger Town,' appeared. It had been clear that any order from the Mandalorians hadn't gone far and if it had it was not on this side of the planet. Regardless, the Sith Empire would want to see the deal through without any interruptions.

A makeshift landing pad and a set of droids who looked to be in need of dire repair aided in the shuttle's landing. Naveena had only wished she had taken the offer on having guards go with her. She waited a few more moments until the pilot had cleared her for disembarkment, once the ramp unfolded and the door opened. She was hit with a foul order most likely due to the lack of sanitation workers within the town itself. Sotta's representative must have noticed the pristine shuttle's arrival as Naveena reeived a ping to her tablet informing her to meet the woman at the Admiral's Lament, a cantina that didn't seem to be too far from the landing pad.

As she set off from the landing pad, Naveena did not notice the rather thin Devaronian who stood against the corridor's rust laden wall. He watched her with interest and casually turned away as if to look at something else waiting until she had disappeared from view and then he would begin to follow her.

 

[Lark]

Objective: G E K O L O N I S E E R D
Location: Gargon
Interacting With: No one at the moment

For a brief moment before any battle, Lark could sense a solemn air of silence. Even when the odds were heavily in their favor, there would always be an air of uncertainty surrounding battle. It was a heavy ordeal to face, knowing that even the most routine of skirmishes could lead to one's death. Decades of memories and experiences cultivated, all lost by a lucky shot or a poor order given. In most instances these pensive occurrences were only momentary, replaced by intense focus or battle rage. But in this instance Lark allowed his own bit of reflection to stay for a few moments longer.

This was not due to any fear for his life, nor any hesitance he had when it came to taking the lives of others. No, he had hardly ever spared a thought for either of those things. But while the rest of the Sith forces prepared to launch an assault on a pirate fortress harboring massive amounts of spice, Lark had a second objective to plan for in addition to the ensuing conflict.

The objective's name was Assim Papirs, a Mandolorian man who had likely long since forgotten his transgression against Lark. Reliable reports said that Papirs had thrown in with the pirates attempting to defend the spices, a fool's mission. But his folly was an opportunity for Lark, whose silent rage burned more violently towards this man than any other he had ever encountered. The spices meant nothing to the young acolyte compared to the unbridled wrathful storm of fury that swirled within Lark's concrete heart. Normally so calm and ethereally tranquil, Lark relished in the sea of hate that flowed over him.

Few atrocities bothered him. Let the Sith massacre entire populations who slight them. Let smugglers deal out drugs and weapons to those who only sought to harm others. He wouldn't bat an eye over any genocide or barbarous deed, for he had likely committed far worse crimes. But Assim Papirs had done something that was absolutely unforgivable in Lark's eyes.

Fourteen years ago, Assim Papirs sold Lark's sister.

Lark received this information from an old criminal contact that recently deigned to join the Sith as a spy rather than face execution for his past crimes against the Empire. He was given records that validated the man's story, and as fortune would have it, Lark was able to track Papirs and found him on Gargon, making the second biggest act of idiocy in his life.

Within the next few hours, Lark would finally have the answer to a question that had plagued him for years. Where was his younger sister taken to? If Papirs didn't remember, or didn't want to talk, Lark had his own methods he'd use to get the information he wanted. There wasn't a force in the galaxy that would hold him back from his goal. Even if the stars themselves stood in his way, Lark would find his sister.

What he would do then, however, Lark pondered on in the uneasy silence before battle.

 

[Tsyok]

​

​

Objective: Eliminate Resistance
Location: Krownest

"Push them!"

Snow clawed at General Gol'zan's cloak as he lunged through the air, the Force lending strength to his propulsion, coming down with such tremendous force that the nearby trees snapped at their base and tumbled away from him. The soldiers of Clan Wren were caught in this terrible tsunami, crumbling like paper as their legs gave out from under them. Those on the edge of the Sith Lord's tumultuous fury staggered where they stood, but remained firm. They answered the Sith General's hatred with anger of their own, loosing volleys of blaster fire that peppered the ground around the Sith and even pinging on the protective shell of his armored body.

Sith-Imperial Legionnaires, their typically black armor now painted to camouflage against the snowy backdrop of Krownest, rushed forward to fill the gap made by the General's rapid advance. They fired as they ran, rolling to take cover behind rocks and fallens trees, chucking grenades up and over the battle line to sew chaos and confusion among the Mandalorian ranks. Their landing had been anything but smooth, ground fire taking out the majority of their dropships before their boots had even hit the ground. Their entire advance towards the enemy stronghold had been riddled with tripwires, mines, pit-falls, and a myriad of other traps shrouded by the white deluge of snow.

Gol'zan had lead them through it all, his black armor a stark contrast against the environment, his lightsaber perpetually ignited as he charged headfirst into every conflict. Gol'zan pushed his troops hard, he knew that the Empire's success hinged on theirs, and they could ill-afford to allow the weakness of hesitation to take root.

A Mandalorian rushed him with a beskad-tipped rifle, the weapon missing the General's armor by centimeters as he danced just out of the way. In one smooth motion Gol'zan gripped the Mandalorian by his left arm, snapped the bone at the elbow, and slapped the weapon to the ground. Muscles straining, Gol'zan pulled the Mandalorian up and over before slamming him down into the cold frozen earth. He then rammed the tip of his lightsaber up and through the more vulnerable armorweave at the base of the Mandalorian helmet, skewering up into the warrior's cranium before the lightsaber came to a sudden halt as it hit the interior of the helmet.

Yanking his weapon free, Gol'zan spun about in the snow to seek his next target.

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

​

Air Marshal Pavanos was back in the saddle, and as she headed out to the new prototype bombers all she could think of was the sweet, sweet revenge she wanted to hand the Mandalorians. A new wing of fighters, the Black Sirens and a new post - with Fourth Fleet. Seventh Fleet had been recalled to do simple duties and while that sufficed for many who had seen the wars the Galaxy had to offer. Even better they would be launching from Darth Avacyn's new flagship the Serran. Ishana climbed into the canopy of her bird and took in a deep breath, with an exhale she grabbed her helmet from off the dashboard and secured it. "Echo-1 reporting." She said to the control tower who spoke with her, the Black Sirens would launch out of the Serran shortly.

Colonel Dido was already on the ground, they would just be leading the assault. "Echo-1, you are cleared on track two, good hunting."

"Copy that tower, Echo-1 out." Ishana checked her dashboard and flight instruments, the hum of the bomber's engine helped the pilot to feel at ease as she moved her hands to the yoke. Canopy closed, and bomber moved to the track, a clamping mechanism took hold of the bomber. Ishana waited until the lights on the track turned green, and it felt as if it would take ages. Nerves were getting to the best of her she knew that much, and then there it was - the light was green and she flipped her launch switch. The track's mechanism helped propel the fighter out into the void as the ship's engines took over at the pilot's command. Once out of the bay, Ishana flipped to the encrypted radio, "welcome everyone to Flight Avacyn, this is your captain speaking today's destination is the world of Krownest. The mission is to eliminate any resistance, watch the skies and the ground, stay frosty - Echo-1 out."

[member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

***Location: Spice Bandit Fortress, Gargon
Objective: G E K O L O N I S E E R D
Star Date: c. 859
Allies: TSE
Enemies: Spice Bandits
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kj7PGkYX1xk
The fortress of the Spice Bandits was rumored to be near impregnable, surprisingly so for a moderately sized fortress, armed with a militia of fearsome pirates and mounds of weaponry and turrets. Of course, the only reason such a rumor existed was due to the lack of proper soldiers and infiltrators upon the Podunk planet of Gargon. Kascalion Giedfield was not one such person lacking skill. He was Sith and he would disprove the rumors of impregnability whilst capturing the objective for his Empire. What use they had of spice beyond trade, he could not begin to guess, nor did he truly care. He simply needed something to do whilst Lorale was on the mend following their grievous injuries at the hands of Vaulkhar the Traitor.

Stealing back spices that irate pirates had themselves stolen from one of the largest and most powerful factions in the galaxy of the time sounded like something he would enjoy greatly, if for nothing else than to educate fools on the matters of power dynamics. With this education, he also hoped to discern why the pirates felt it was wise to do what they did. In the end, however, he knew they would lack tongues to speak.

Regardless, Kascalion piloted his shining new 88-Special across the mountainous landscape, searching for the reputable location of scum and villainy, synth music blasting out of the speakers as the idyllic scenes sped by. It was a nice change of pace for the Devil Lion to be alone and calm in their own space, without the screaming of Lorale and Legionnaires. Just him and music for miles and miles and miles of crevices and ice capped peaks and strange creatures that skipped and bounded as he approached. This is how it was for a good whole until the fortress finally came into sight in a canyon on the left of the path Kascalion was speeding across.

Even from a distance, the Ashen Devil at the very least understood why it had the rumors that it did. It was built against the base of a large mountain range, and showcased eight thick, round towers that were scattered in a seemingly random pattern, but had clearly been build for an ideal defense. These towers were connected by tall, wide walls made of a reflective bronze stone. Apparent windows were scattered here and there across the walls in an asymmetric pattern, along with huge crenelations for blaster turrets and artillery, of which the latter proved to be numerous. A vast gate with hefty iron doors, a draw bridge and various emplacements of large automatic defensive equipment guarded the fields of nothingness that stretched beyond the fortress, allowing those inside to see people coming far before they posed a threat. It amused Kascalion that would not notice him until after he posed a threat.

Pulling the speeder into a nearby cave large enough to house it, roughly half of a mile from the fortress, Kascalion ensured his blasters and lightsabers were sheathed and ready for use. Two curved, crimson bladed lightsabers hooked onto his left and right hip that promised swift carnage and two massive blaster pistols that would act as shotguns in the hands of a normal human holstered under his greatcoat on either side. Giving himself a shout of encouragement, he practically leaped out of the 88-Special and began sprinting with great speed across the rocks and stones on the left side of the fortress, aiming to eventually carve his way in from the base of the range itself.

Realizing that with the closer the got, the more foes he sensed, Kascalion wisely deduced that his being alone was perhaps not wise after all. Quickly ducking behind a perfectly round boulder, the Devil Lion begrudgingly activated his communication system and opened a closed channel, speaking with a low, guttural tone, "This is Kascalion Giedfield reaching out to any and all Empire agents, soldiers, and Sith on this backwater planet of Gargon. If you can hear me, come to these attached coordinates. I have located the spice bandits Carnifex wants gone and will be making my way in to begin the assault. I don't know how many total there are in number, but assume a lot. Defenses are moderate. Giedfield out."

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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World after world, slaughter after slaughter, the Empire continued to expand their influence. It was the only way the galaxy could understand them. They were painted as weak at one point in their time of shambles, lurking within the shadows, only to effortlessly become a dominating powerhouse of the darkside once again. Although the Empire was ruthless in their expansion it didn't mean everything went according to plan. No matter what government, organization or native clans they toppled there was always one; one defying and useless effort by those willing to create resistance after the dust settled from war. It was one of the main reasons the Sith had come to Gargon, ready to eviscerate whatever hope of rebellion remained. ​

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While Orion would have found it amusing to eradicate the nay-sayers. He, like others that understood the importance of economic gain from the aftermath of war, would find it more fitting to repay the Empire in elements of trade. Not only would this garnish the wages for the men and women that consistently fought effortlessly among the naval ranks, but the bulk of militant power. Orion couldn't count the amount of times he'd been pulled, pushed, dragged or even mystically tugged to safety because of unlikely allies on the battlefield. It was time to pay his dues. Plus, he could potentially gain something extra from it. After all, he was infiltrating an enormous fortress filled with pirates. If they were willing to trade spice, many of these 'pirates' would have stolen goods as well. Maybe, just maybe, Orion could find a gem in a sea of trash. He was hopeful of it too. Everyone had their own motives, Orion's rested inside the fortress. ​

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Since the only thing that evaded him in months were ancient scrolls about demonic contracts and possessive ethereal spirits, he got word of such things being stolen, frequently. If a fortress filled with spice bandits and pirates didn't have a giant sign on it that said, LOOK HERE, Orion didn't know where else to look. So, without a second thought he pursued the challenge ahead of him. Intel touched briefly on the situation. The fortress held eight towers, a plethora of artillery; capable of wiping out invading forces and a bridge that lead to two large iron doors. Taking such a defensive fort head on would mean death. Orion knew this, but the idea of eternal silence still made him smile. His time would come, but not today. ​

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He stared out into the vast open space between them and the fortress. Orion almost forgot about the other Sith that stood motionless doing the same. The red flowing hair forced an image in his mind, locked away in his memories. ​

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The tournament...from so long ago? Lark.​

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Orion remembered him, he was a truly capable sith. It seemed they both had grown since then. It almost seemed like [member="Lark"] also enjoyed the silent tension before a battle. It calmed Orion's nerves, sorting through the thoughts that brought him here. He didn't think his journey through the darkside teachings would bring him such power and consequential unknowns. Still, as he stood admiring the fortress in the distance with Lark, he wouldn't take any of it back. He was content and ready to accept what he was...​

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A Sith.​

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[member="Kascalion Giedfield"]​

 

[Amaya Cardei]

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Gargon
Grunger Town

Naveena stood out in the crowd and realized this the moment she left the port. A quick purchase gave her a cloak that at the very least would help her blend in with the crowd. The town didn't have much in the way of paved roads, just marked out tracks of dirt lined with rock. Thin aluminum shanty towns and buildings hollowed out of crippled duracrete were what surrounded her now. She picked up the pace through the market buying a scarf along the way. Covering her mouth and nose with the scarf she hoped this would help conceal her identity.

The Devaronian scoffed if the Galidraani thought this would help her, it would not. He sneered, pushed his way through the crowd now. "Lost her in the market, she got a cloak from Xing's beside the port. Look for a drab olive cloak, white and blue dress under it." He reported on comms to others who were with him on the mission. If the Empire got a hold of the planet for good, it meant they'd turn it around. Sotta the Hutt's presence meant clean places for crime with little in the way of the swamp of corruption that Gargon had become. It meant the local criminals would be run out of town and they were not about to let that happen, not if they could help it anyway.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Objective: [1] Kill them all.
Location: Krownest, approaching the Wren Stronghold

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Burning, hateful eyes pierced through the Mandalorian's helmet. His weapon laid in the snow in two pieces and next to it laid his left arm. The weak spot in the shoulder joint of his armor had been struck and slashed through, severing the arm with disgusting ease. The warrior remained composed beyond grunts of pain however, something that infuriated Darth Avacyn. She already vowed to make him suffer the moment she laid eyes on the man, but in that moment her wish become more important than the battle itself for as long as he lived. Luckily, that wouldn't be long.

Slowly, as the the battle around them didn't exist, the woman put away her lightsabers while the Mandalorian stumbled backwards. Avacyn took a step forward to close the distance again before grasping his remaining arm and the dome of his helmet with unnatural strength. The helmet began to show dents as it began caving in on itself and all the Mandalorian saw was a look of pure malice. He had no way of escaping, a rush of panic finally overcame him and he began to plead, feeling the beskar pressing against his skull.

"Please, plea-"

The sickening sound of bone cracking filled Avacyn's ears, but instead of disgust, a rush of adrenaline shot through her body. She let go of the now-lifeless husk, causing it to collapse into the snow, a few footsteps away from the broken blaster and his severed arm. She stepped over the body, as though it were no more than a fallen treebranch on the road, and continued her approach towards the Wren Stronghold. A different kind of sensation hit her then, overpowering her hatred for as long as she embraced it.

Ishana was nearly here. Avacyn felt her wife's presence getting stronger as she began her flight towards Krownest, a sensation made stronger through the connection the two created through a set of Sith-alchemized tattoos. The bond they shared now was immensely powerful, in times to the extreme, but it brought them closer together than Avacyn had ever thought possible.

Ishana's feelings of revenge washed over the redhead, and it fed her own. Her approach continued, and soon more Mandalorians would die by her hand.

[member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Darth Morrow]

Objective [1] Assist in the slaughter.
Location: Krownest, approaching Wren Stronghold

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It had been far too long since the ghostly woman found herself in the heat of battle, the smell of blood or gore filling the air. The worst part about this dreadful planet however wasn't the swarms of idiotic rebels, but the cold; Morrow despised the cold. Carrying forward however she found herself among allies of sorts, all with the same goal in mind, slaughter the fools. Those masked with Mandalorian arms and armor stood against the goals of the empire, and so they would be disposed over.

On the front lines Morrow found herself with blade in hand, blaster bolts flying past the soldiers and Sith. Blood had already been spilled across the brilliant white snow but it wasn't enough, it wouldn't be enough until all the opposition was dead; it was a wonderful starting goal.

Volcanic eyes locked on a row of charging men as Morrow stepped forward, her dark crimson staff in hand, blasts aimed for her head deflected by its deft movements. "Don't worry, it will all be over soon." Reaching forward an energy grabbed onto one of the Mandaorian's in the back of the line, ripping him forward and through his companions sending them all into the snow. Pulled into hand the mans armor crushed around his throat with a spurt of red liquid and he was discarded like waste to the ground below.

Pushing themselves to stand another came face to face with the behemoth lady a blade already through their gut as eyes rolled in their skull, a sickening grim tugging at the edges if Morrow's darkened lips at the sight.

 

[Tsyok]

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Objective: Eliminate Resistance
Location: Krownest

Turbolaser recoiling, a Carnivore heavy repulsortank rushed across open ground pocked with craters left by falling artillery shells. On its hull stood General Gol'zan, one hand clutching the metal hull for stability while his other held his ignited lightsaber. Occasionally he swung the weapon through the air, slapping aside potshots from Mandalorian soldiers in the periphery. Behind the lead tank was an entire column of Claymore II repulsortanks, each one firing as they moved, the weighted spear-thrust of the Sith army as it advanced on the Wren Compound.

The Mandalorians had erected trench fortifications and bunkers along the entire front, the taking of each meterage a grueling slaughter that stained the stark white snow a deep scarlet. Sith bombers shrieked as they thundered overhead, deploying their payloads in long lines that churned up the ground until it was completely unrecognizable. The only thing that protected the Compound from being shelled into Krownest's mantle was a deflector shield that necessitated the blitz on foot.

"Approaching the compound perimeter, General."

"Punch it."

The Carnivore lurched forward as its engines were whipped into overdrive, sending the vehicle in an unstoppable charge towards the Mandalorian defenses. As it breached them, General Gol'zan lunged from the top of the tank, somersaulted in mid-air, and landed right in the midst of the enemy ranks. His lightsaber lashed out, slicing through weapons and the softer weak-points of the Mandalorian's armor. What couldn't be dispatched by the sword was crushed by the Force, bodies flung around like ragdolls and helmets imploding as if squeezed by a giant hand.

And at the epicenter of this butchery was Gol'zan, his sulfuric eyes glowing with unrestrained hatred.

 

[Vaulkhar]

"You have the ship on standby, yeah?"

"Of course, master. Though I would not recommend this course of actions. The empire is out in force, even Gol'zan is among their number."

"Good, good... I can send my father a gift then. His beloved general's head will make a fine addition to the palace walls, along with all of his other failed projects. Keep the ship running, if things go south I'll transmit my location to you."

"Very well, please try to avoid another hot zone."

"No promises, H."

Ven returned his communication's device to his belt before turning to face the imperial war machine. It marched forward at an unyielding pace, barely slowed by the Mandalorians who stood before them. With the fall of Mandalore, very few had found it within them to fight for anything. Most had disappeared to the various corners of the galaxy for private work and perhaps a more peaceful life. It left clans such as Wren doomed. Fortunately, Clan Wren had an ally who was willing to stand beside them. An ally who understood the importance of stopping the continued expansion of the Sith Empire. If left unchecked, countless planets worth of resources would fall under the control of the dreaded Dark Lord. While many would stand before them, it could very well be too late. And that wasn't something Ven wanted to leave up to chance. At least not yet anyway.

From his vantage point behind the forward defensive line of clan Wren, Ven lifted his electrobinoculars and scanned the battlefield for the general. In normal circumstances, finding him should've proven impossible. However, the general's explosive entrance and slaughter of the defenders left a visible stain within the force for the jedi. Returning the tool to his belt, Ven removed the lightsaber hilt from its usual place at his side and made his way down the lone tower's stairs. He took several deep breaths along the way as he centered himself. There was a point where the fear and tension gripping his heart would've been a welcome companion, but that time was behind him. Reaching the bottom of the tower, he strode out from within and moved towards the defending soldiers who were preparing for the next wave of sith troopers. Clan Wren had managed to cobble together a strong defending force, but the empire were no strangers to throwing fodder at their foes until the defenders tired. A decisive strike could break the offensive and turn the tides, or so he hoped.

Ven pushed past the forward line and pulled the force around him like a blanket. It fell around him like an old friend before rocketing him forward, towards the hulking general's form. Dozens littered the ground around him, yet it was not enough. Before Ven could reach the commanding officers, another half a dozen fell. All that remained before the general was a quivering soldier who's armor was a bit too large for him.

A flash of white and a blurred body dashed past him. A snow white saber surged to life and connected against the general's in an upward swing meant to keep him from crushing the last of the defending unit. Ven glared up at the general's malignant gaze and smirked as their blades locked.

"A tad overboard for the Mandalorians, don't you think?"

[member="General Gol'zan"]​

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

***Location: Spice Bandit Fortress, Gargon
Objective: G E K O L O N I S E E R D
Star Date: c. 859
Allies: [member="Orion Darkstar"]|TSE
Enemies: Spice Bandits***

Kascalion had waited for only perhaps a half-hour before numerous fellow Sith arrived in tandem. A smile crossed his scarred lips as he stood to greet those that came near him, but shot a particular glance to the man in the golden mask who seemed lost in deep contemplation. A strange fellow, to be sure, but nothing truly odd amongst the Sith, yet he did cast a distinctive aura around the others seeking to assault the fortress. Regardless, he was there to fight the bandits and take back that which they had stolen from the Empire like suicidal fools. Truly, they would have had to know that the Sith would come after them. A fortress with lots of weapons and walls and gadgets would not save them from the blade.

And so, Kascalion leaned back briefly to crack his spine into place and sighed heavily before turning to those that had answered his call. "So, here's the plan," he began in his gravelly voice. "Those moronic cesspools of bad choices have taken precious treasures that belong to us. Treasures we can trade and manufacture. Rightfully so, the Empire wants us to kill them all and take back what they stole. I for one and looking forward to this..."

A sudden blaster round cast off through the air from within the fortress, signifying someone had just been executed, likely for skimping out on their portion to the pile or getting into a fight. The Devil Lion laughed in disappointment and sighed once again, placing his hands on his hips like a disgruntled parent.

"They aren't even waiting for us!" a non-distinct Sith Warrior cried out in genuine anger.

"What fools!" another added. "They think killing themselves now will spare their souls."

Kascalion nodded with a slight bounce of his knees and turned his gaze from the fortress to the cadre before him, "Many brothers and sisters of ours currently fight upon the planet of Krownest. Eradicating fools who dared to resist our rule, like these fools dared to defy us and humiliate us. Shall we let this stand? No, I say. Are we going to let bandits hold back the tide of the Sith? No, I say! Prove to those on Krownest that all of you here are worthy of recognition for your services to the Empire. Those bandits likely outnumber us ten to one...let's go kill them."

And with those words, Kascalion began his approach towards the fortress, aiming to carve his way in through the base of the mountain range and open the gates for the Sith to assault from the front. He would need at least one other person to help him do this with ease, but he knew that his kin were a wild bunch who craved frontal assaults. Either way, blood would be spilled that day.

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

​

The idea of a Force-bond enhanced via a tattoo would have been met with a lot of skepticism had Ishana not seen it in action - personally. Ishana had only been afforded, as it were, a small glance at a similar tattoo not so long ago. Lord Admiral Raaf and her wife known to most within the Empire as Darth Arcanix had enhanced their bond through the very method that Kaalia had proposed to Ishana. Once the tattoo and subsequent ritual were complete the effects were felt immediately and continued to be felt to that very moment. The moment when Ishana's fighter descended from Krownest's orbit through the atmosphere - the TIE Bomber punched through the clouds.

Mandalorian fighters were on the horizon, and Ishana grinned, "alright kids, Echo-1 here watch your fire and happy hunting you are weapons-free."

Her comms lit up with the responses from both her squadron and wing as the skies above [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] darkened with the sight of the Sith Empire's Starfighter Corps arriving en masse. Starfighters, advanced strike fighters, defenders, interceptors and bombers alike cascaded across Krownest like the Aurora lights over snowcapped mountains. The Black Sirens would be met with some of Clan Wren's best of that Ishana had no doubt. Escorts on either side of her bomber she pushed on the yoke to make her approach to a nearby depot.

"Hello boys, I'm baaaack."

Ishana's sing-song voice as she lined up her bomb bay with the target.

Bombs dropped from the TIE fell toward the ground below where the explosive force could be seen, heard and no doubt felt for kilometers around. More so, as the rest of Ishana's squad let their bombs fall from their bays. As she banked to make a turnaround, the sound and collective kinetic force of anti-air guns made their impact, pocketing black plumes of smoke and violent bursts - enough to jerk the TIE Bomber around.

 

[Tsyok]

​

Objective: Eliminate Resistance
Location: Krownest
Opponent: [member="Vaulkhar"]

His blade rushed to deliver the killing blow.

Time slowed, snowflakes suspended amidst the butchery.

A flash of silver.

The crackle of hate.

"YOU!" The General's voice bellowed over the howls of the dying and the staccato pounding of artillery fire, his face illuminated by the colliding scarlet and silver energies. "The Emperor's wayward son! The betrayer of our Order! How dare you show your face to me, treacherous supplicant! I'll tear the larynx from your throat!" Gol'zan pushed against Vaulkhar's weapon, the Dark Side of the Force giving renewed strength to the straining muscles in his arms. An explosion of Force energy exuded from the General, tearing away the environment and blasting aside the Mandalorian soldier who had been so fatefully spared by the traitor's intrusion.

The General's weapon angled downward, dragging Vaulkhar's weapon with it. With one hand on his weapon, the other was free to rush up and deliver a closed-fist backhand to Vaulkhar's face, if it could reach. Following that, the General viciously disconnected their lightsabers and rushed into the offensive, slashing and stabbing with the ferocity of a powerful beast. Though certainly vicious, there was little loss of form for the General, who fell into that darkest of enumerations to steady his mind and keep his form just as lethal and precise as it had ever been.

Oh, what a prize the head of Vaulkhar would be.

The Emperor would reward him well for erasing this stain upon his house.

 

[Lark]

Objective: G E K O L O N I S E E R D
Location: Gargon
Interacting With: [member="Kascalion Giedfield"] [member="Orion Darkstar"]

It was difficult to get a true read on what is was Lark was ever thinking. Someone rarely interacted with the same version of him multiple times. Sometimes he'd be an ardent Sith soldier following whatever orders required of him, sometimes he'd be an impish trickster trying to get under an opponents skin. Whether he needed to be a sociable noble or an acolyte eager to prove his worth, Lark would adapt in order to fit whatever role necessary.

But now, Lark appeared only to be a silent watcher, completely detached from the other soldiers in the area. He felt cold, even colder than he normally did. Whenever the matter of family reared its ugly head Lark entered a calculated yet bestial state of mind, independent of any of the other personas he carefully crafted for himself. Is this my true form? For over a decade I believed my siblings to be dead, and thrived because of it. Now my past self, the one before the fire, decides to reemerge from some hidden depths. The boy who still cared for his family didn't burn as intended.

My sister is within my grasp. But when I find her, will I be able to bring myself to strike her down?

A brief gaze from an old companion momentarily shattered Lark's concentration. That mask, he thought. Lark had an eventful past few months, he almost didn't recognize one of his old acolyte companions. Orion and he had fought both against and alongside one another, the battles had been fierce and revealed more about one another than any conversation over drink ever could. So many other acolytes that Lark had begun training with had either died or vanished, it was a bit comforting to see at least one other beside himself had lasted this long.

"Is there anyone that you would burn the galaxy for?" Lark quietly asked Orion, almost not expecting an answer as a stray blaster fired at a separate force of Sith troops. Soldiers began to charge the fortress, a fool's errand. The pirates were well defended and held the advantage in numbers, but no force could stand against a united front of Sith. Let the weak burn away. The strong would survive and win the day.

But Lark, of course, had his own objective. Assim Papirs lay in that pathetic little hiding hole, and Lark would turn over every cobblestone and piece of gravel to find him and discover where he sold his sister. Spices be damned. "There's such a person for me," Lark said right before he and his old rival began to charge the fortress. "I'd bring all the worlds to their knees to see them again."

Finally, Lark joined the assault. There were two separate forces, he and Orion were apart of the main force, and one Kascalion Giedfield led the other, smaller charge. "Kascalion and his men might need an extra hand or two breaking through," Lark said to Orion. "The two of us might be the only ones here capable of circumventing this mess and reinforcing him. Let us make our way towards him."

There were two reasons Lark wished to rush and aid Kascalion. One was truthfully stated to Orion, it would be good strategy for the two of them to aid the more outnumbered side. The other was that Papirs was a coward, and there was no way he would be apart of the initial defense of the fortress. If Lark could sneak in the side, he'd have a better opportunity of finding the man.

And there was no force that would save Papirs then.

 

[Amaya Cardei]

​

Gargon
Grunger Town

Rain began to fall slowly and then within the blink of an eye, a complete downpour. It was an unruly orchestra clattering along the aluminum tops of the shanties. Collecting in tins, pans and whatever else the locals had on hand. Naveena navigated it with ease - Bervie felt much the same for most parts of the year. Dreary, cold - never nearly as cold and dreaded as Thames, but the climate of Bervie was relatively similar. Only here it wasn't cold, it was hot and humid the sort that made your clothes stick to your skin. She wasn't a fan, but Naveena carried on and had finally managed to locate the cantina a small door with a pair of Gamorreans and a Nitko loitering about just as a tall Falleen crossed his arms.

"Umedara sent me," Naveena told him she stared him straight in the eyes.

He gave something of a scoff, perhaps a disgruntled snort. "Wouldn't stay long if I were you." His voice had the timbre of stone rolling across a mountain, the Falleen sidestepped out of the way.

Naveena entered the tip of her cloak disappeared into the door, but just enough for another Devaronian to see. She alerted the man that had been following the Galidraani. His target had gone into Sotta's little place, and thus he went to grab a few of his mates, which included several Weequays and Rattataki, and a Rodian none of whom had an issue with getting through the Falleen.

Yet none noticed that the Falleen had given a look to the pair of Gamorreans and the Nitko who followed the group.

Inside the cantina, it would not be hard to spot the Mirialan criminal with her companions of the night on either side of her. A half-Zeltron and two Nautolan women one of whom noticed Naveena. She spoke in Huttese to Umedara who then waved the Galidraani over, "Ms. Deol, you're about as easy to spot as a Nexu in the city, have a seat."

Naveena was somewhat flustered and taken off guard by the woman, she was still trying to get ahold of herself. The cantina was much larger than she first thought and a lot more crowded. A set of stairs led to the basement where music cascaded upward toward the bar level, a manual lift made it easier for the bigger and less maneuverable guests to get down as the stairs were quite narrow. Naveena crossed through the crowd and managed a seat opposite of Umedara, "well, it is isn't often I find myself in such wonderful establishments, Ms. Zaar."

"Yeah you don't look the sort," Ume shot back, "but let's uh, let's get on with the deal..."

Her voice trailed off as she watched the group that had followed Naveena be diverted down to the ground level.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Objective: [1] Kill them all.
Location: Krownest, approaching the Wren Stronghold

With every Mandalorian soul Avacyn sent to the Netherworld she felt a rush of satisfaction that was nearly unmatched, but lasted only mere moments. One by one her enemies fell and with every kill came another rush, while at the same time her own connection to the Netherworld intensified. Gradually her form would become more ghost-like as nether energies flowed through her. In this state Avacyn could see through the mortal coil of others and peer directly into their soul, but that was far from everything.

The Sith Lady struck out with the lightsaber in her left, clashing against the beskar protecting the Mandalorian's arm. The strike didn't cut through entirely, instead merely scorching it, but it was enough to cause him to stagger backwards. In that moment of vulnerability, Avacyn closed the short amount of distance between them and with her ghostly right hand reached into his chest. It passed through the armor and his very skin and bones as though they weren't even there and when she pulled it back, she held an orb that glowed with energy. It was his very soul that as it slowly seemed to dissipate became bound to her. The beskar-clad body collapsed into the snow, like all other Mandalorians who had crossed Avacyn's path up until that moment. That which had given it life was now trapped, doomed to suffer as it empowered Avacyn.

Adding to the cocktail of intense sensations was the rush of adrenaline fed to Avacyn through her bond with Ishana. Had it been Kaalia who was awake in that moment, she would have felt greater concern, though Avacyn had the ability to shove that aside. She knew what her wife was capable of inside of a TIE, as far as she was concerned there was nobody who flew one better. There simply was no reason to worry.

In the distance the woman then heard and felt a great explosion in the distance, and as she turned her head towards the source she already saw smoke rising up in the distance. She smirked. That was another target wiped off the map.

[member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Orion Darkstar]

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]The silence remained for only a brief moment. The beauty of it stripped away by the words of another. A band of troopers and bloodthirsty Sith warriors hanging on every word, except two of them. Orion glanced at the others for only a second, his mind still focused on the path that led him here. Even with what stood defiantly in front of him, Orion focused on other things. The most important thing was Fovos Trogon. If the fortress held anything of value or critical information about dark spirits, Orion might be able to beat the crafty demon at his own game. The image of the ashy phantasmal being flashed in his mind before [member="Lark"] snapped him back into reality.[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"Is there anyone that you would burn the galaxy for?"[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Orion's brow rose, the curious ally surprised him. Apparently he wasn't the only one in deep thought. Orion's mask snapped to the side as it greeted Lark. The shimmering beam of a stray blaster bolt slipped into their somber world. It broke the complacency in the crowd of hungry darksiders. They wouldn't allow any others within the confines of their so called "safe walls" escape death. They wouldn't stand for it, neither would their blades. It wouldn't matter what the opposing forces had up their sleeves, it didn't compare to the might of the Empire. It never would. Orion was shown the truth time and time again, better yet he was part of it.[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"There's such a person for me,"[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Before he could even answer Lark's question, they were marching. In truth, Orion had no one to fight for. It didn't bother him. If anything, it allowed him the freedom necessary to achieve what was necessary of a sith. He couldn't contemplate on such things, he had to move. With a slight burst from the back end of his right heel he followed in suit. Side by side, they charged forward into the wide gap of the southern wall. The ridge of the mountain greeted the inspired warriors further ahead. The formation split as they began to storm the inner walls with trembling roars of hate. If only Orion were at the front of the charge, he'd be able to see the distraught look on the faces of those looking over the outer-walls. A smile curled upon his lips at the thought, hidden by the golden mask that provided him protection.[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]"I'd bring all the worlds to their knees to see them again."[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Mid-stride, Orion had almost forgotten to answer Lark, not that it was a requirement to kill the useless pawns within the fortress before them. Orion shifted slightly to the left, careful not to lose his footing over the uneven ground. [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I do not[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]."[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Orion said, his voice carrying the weight of his running. He released a connector to his cloak, the black cloth catching wind as it lifted into the air. [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]"[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]I envy you in that regard. It makes you stronger, having such a desire. Let that fire grow, but never let others wound you with it[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]."[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Orion advised, careful at choosing his words.[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Distracted by the split in their ranks, he watched one side of their forces move further away. Clearly, [member="Kascalion Giedfield"] knew something they didn't. Right when Orion was going to suggest a regroup, Lark reinforced the idea. The bulk of their forces would be able to get through without the two of them. Plus, Orion would have found himself further in the defenses to find their supplies anyway. Orion nodded in agreement, his body turning to force himself free from the herd, his fellow sith following in suit. [/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]The wide gap between both the storming forces on the Empire's side took moments to bridge. Orion slid smoothly into the ranks of Kascalion's soldiers. Ironically, he was now shoulder to shoulder with Kascalion himself. "Orion Darkstar and Lark at your service." They disappeared into a slight over hang at the edge of the mountain. Orion surveyed as they charged, there had to be a weak spot. His gold mask shifted back to Kascalion. "That way." Orion said, his arm extending to point to a smooth layer of rocks that led to the top of the ridge. "It could help us flank them, if the frontal assault is as successful as planned." Orion knew it would force the enemy into a pinch, all they needed was an entry point. Then, right then, blood would be spilled. [/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Orion's smile grew. [/SIZE]​