Faction &nbsp; Death, Be Not Proud [SO]

Even in the heart of the Red Dragon, packed with inertial dampeners, Kalzok could feel the ship begin to accelerate, even if he did not look to the consoles that lined the walls that showed the engines guzzling up the reactor's destabilisation, going into overdrive. All this even as the emergency lights flashed and alarms blared. Kalzok floated out of the reactor station, through the halls of the ship, watching impassively as the crew scrambled to escape pods, and yet he could see the ship changing course, drinking in the power of the reactor, through sensor readouts along the engineering stations he passed.

Curious. Kalzok realised the ship's captain, or more likely, the fleet's obstinate admiral, was planning something. Against his better judgment, Kalzok decided not to simply make his way to one of the escape pods or lifeboat. No, if the crew were evacuating, so would the command staff, and so might Admiral Tithon, however unlikely. Taking out Red Dragon was something, sure, but the real prize was killing the command staff. Without the element of surprise, Kalzok hoped at least the obstinate Tithon had remained, even if the others evacuated.

Kalzok made his way to the bridge, but took a route where he knew he would likely come across engineers and some of the ship's deck commanders. He wanted to make sure as many of them did not survive or stop the core going critical. As predicted, he cut into a hallway where the chief engineer and a deck commander were escorted by a group of marines to the nearest lifeboat. Kalzok reacted before the Marines did, blasting them with lightning and flying forward with speed, his Sith Warblade flashing, taking off the heads of the engineer and commander, before continuing on his way to the bridge.

Darth Ophidia · Jul 5, 2022

Darth Strosius Dvasia

Kalzok

Quintessa

Aedan Miles

"Once, I did."

The Rattataki swept the hood back from her head, revealing the bare scalp with the fresh tattoos. Memories of war lingered in her mind, memories of victory and defeat, memories of a moment on Mandalore.

"I believed you would be the one to re-make us, strengthen us, lead us. And I would be content to work from the shadows."

As he began to circle her, she stepped in a circle of her own, keeping her right shoulder to face him. She did not directly counteract his movement, but made her position somewhat harder to pin down and block. This synchronous movement was a staple of the Makashi order that was taught when they both served in the One Sith, shown most expertly by the Sith Lord Vrag. Still, their blades remained out of offensive position, signalling the continued truce.

Just two friends talking.

"But Carnifex failed." she hissed "The Worm failed." The communicator in her left hand shifted so a button would be ready to press. "Neither you nor Empyrean will come out a victor this day. "

click.

The signal did not look like much as it bounced from one encrypted device to the next, giving a simple vibration and a red light. Even so, the order was clear: It was time for the Tsis'kal to reveal themselves. In the same moment, Darth Ophidia's brow furrowed and her mouth drew into a sneer as if in a moment of intense pain. Her teeth parted in what resembled a silent scream, then drew into a smile.

"I will."

And in a moment's notice, war turned to absolute pandemoneum as two armies became three. Officers and Sith, soldiers, loyal servants and droids alike suddenly halted as they remembered their true allegiance. They were not Eternals or Kainites: They had sworn their allegiance to another master entirely.

They had sworn to her.

"Join me, and we can end this.

---------

A droid set to prepare escape pods subtly sabotages them, overriding the command to seal the pods before launching them and venting the passengers into space.

An ensign rushes up to his captain with an urgent message about widespread mutiny in the barracks. She pleads for an order and is met with the business end of a blaster.

A commander, respected and seen as loyal to a fault, withdraws to a fortifiable location and orders blanket fire upon both sides.

These are but a few examples among many.

Dvasia · Jul 6, 2022

Location: Overbridge - Malsheem, Askaj System

Tags:

UX-0626

Sith Assassin Armor

Lightsaber

Sith Assassin Hidden Blades

He hadn't expected her to redirect his lightning back at him, but it made no difference. A Sith Assassin couldn't be so easily defeated. He reignited his lightsaber. This time the crimson blade could be seen as he used it to absorb the lightning in mid air before slashing it to the side and shooting the electricity along with it into the monitors behind him. As she fired her sonic carbine at him Dvasia moved like a demon, dodging the bolts so fast he appeared to teleport until he was face to face with

UX-0626 .

UX-0626 said:
“We are not family, heretic.” UX-0626 hissed in response, hatred coloring her words.

Her words were filled with hate and arrogance so common among brainwashed slaves. Even before her counterattack ended he had already started to speak.

"So arrogant. So blind. You speak your master's words as if you actually believe them to be your own. You can't see this divide shouldn't be. That the Eternalists and Kainites aren't different! We're all Sith! You're too eager to fight and die for nothing, but the will of tyrants... But what else should I expect from a strand casted slave? You were created only to serve. To fight and die for someone greater than you could ever be. You'll pay for your lack of vision, you weak minded, forceless scum! It's time to fulfill your destiny."

He tried to be understanding, to show mercy, but as usual fools always mistake kindness for weakness. As he got close enough he threw his right leg up as he spun around on his left and ducked down, aiming to kick her right in the face with his shin, hoping to break her nose, if not give her a concussion. Regardless if this hit landed or not he'd attempt to follow up with a hard punch to the same spot, intending to slam the clone's head into the floor.

"I tried to be understanding and yet you reject my mercy? The kriffing arrogance! I won't be insulted by a kriffing slave!"

Dvasia turned around, walking in front of the strand cast. Suddenly his wrist comm lit up with a red light and vibrated. Darth Ophidia's signal. It was time for the Tsis'kal to finally reveal themselves.

"Well, it appears the time for deception has ended."

Just then the lights in the room and surrounding area flashed back on at his mental command. He reached for the tunic he wore, displaying the symbol of the Sith Eternals. He grabbed it, revealing it was just a piece of cloth between his clothes, displaying a false banner. Underneath was a black tunic displaying the dagger symbol of the Sith Order in red in the center of the chest, except it was encircled by a red snake. The symbol of the Tsis'kal, though it was impossible she'd recognize what it was. This was the first time anyone outside their group had ever seen it.

Interlocking his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him, with the palms facing outward, he cracked his knuckles and then his neck. Once again with blazing speed he charged at her with his hidden blades open and pointing at her neck.

"Now die, 'heretic'!" Dvasia shouted with the same hate she spoke at him, even quoting her.

Darth Carnifex · Jul 8, 2022

Demiurge's expression shifted to one of sadness, of genuine sorrow. He had never viewed Ophidia as an adversary, always as one he believed he could depend on. But the paths they tread had led them to this point, on opposite sides of the battlefield. To see this person he had watched grow from a meager apprentice to one of the most powerful Dark Ladies in existence, stand against him at this crucial juncture, caused the Dark Lord to shed a single tear; leaden with the weight of immeasurable desolation.

There was no other recourse, he could see that.

So be it.

With a heavy heart, Demiurge raised his lightsaber and assumed the Form IV fighting stance. With a press of his thumb against the activator, green energy snapped from the lightsaber's emitter. The blade looked sickly, billowing acrid smoke that seemed to dance with a will of its own. The whole room began to stink of Nightsister magick, radiating out from the blade whose crystal had been poisoned by insidious voodoo.

Even those tears stained his cheeks, the Dark Lord's expression was one of ferocious determination. Those eyes blazed with hatred, as was to be expected, but tinged with regret and sorrow. He wasn't eager to fight Ophidia, not that he didn't believe he'd win, but because that he might be forced to take the life of an irreplaceable Dark Lady.

But there was no going back now, it was too late.

"I will do what I must, old friend, even if that means striking you down."

Shadows rushed in to wreath Demiurge like a funeral shroud, partially obscuring his body in darkness, just as he rushed forward to attack.

Darth Prazutis · Jul 9, 2022

"By the Word and Will of the Thrice-Emperors of the Sith, Supreme Dark Lords, Sith'ari Incarnate, it is hereby decreed that these collected realms and worlds be known in perpetuity as the Kainate. This dominion shall belong solely to them on Malsheem, that their wisdom might see it endure for all time and unite all Sith under their banner."

The realm burned.

Deep within this stretch of space infinitely smaller than the whole of the universe, a historic conflict occurred. The maw of the abyss itself tore open, its tongue unfurled and its toothy maw dragging everyone and everything into the darkness. A war of warlords. Just as the serpent it had always been they rushed to consume one another in a fight like rabid dogs. It was unleashed ferocity. Hate in its purest form and a bloodthirst driven rampage to see the contenders destroyed utterly. The vast fleets of the Sith Eternalists engaged the formidable fleets of the Kainate all within the shadow of Malsheem. The seat of power for the greatest Sith Dynasty in history. Space erupted in a storm of fire spat from the barrels of immense guns as ships fought like great titans of old. It was like a disturbed hive of insectoids that the swarms of fighters descended between the fighting titans. Space glowed with the burning hulks of the slain. Those caught between the crossfire, the first casualties left as nothing but burning hulks their passengers and crew left with barely enough time to scream before the end came. This was no war of conquest not among those that once stood as allies. Odavessa had been the rubicon that had been crossed and no longer could those decisions be reversed. The Zambrano Lords would never bend the knee before another. There was only one path that either faction would tolerate now. Destruction.

The Eternal Rule was in the eye of the storm. Darkness in its purest form so deeply saturated the world it began to unravel before them. Deckplates and bulkheads down to the lowest levels of the immense flagship began to audibly ache and strain. Even with such pandemonium in the bridge the ships many redundancies kicked in. Those still alive at their stations would work until death claimed them and others would take up positions in a secondary bridge while the demonic AI AQUILA would fill in the gaps. Its bellowing voice growled through the halls like scraping metal on metal. Even with such warfare none outside the flagship would even notice a change as it belched a torrent of fire from its countless guns, the ship shook with every boom from its huge autocannons. Two giants fought in close combat as the runeblade clashed with the unfettered glow of a black saber. The battle between two masters of the sith was a deadly dance. To observers they moved so fast at times it was like a blur between these engines of destruction.

A third stood nearby and out from his hand shot a massive runeblade of darkened steel. It was known by many names for its deeds were legendary. For even the greatest masters of light and darkness it was the final moment. A true nightmare manifest in physical form it was the reapers scythe that carved through entire legions. Its endless hunger would be never sated. Daesumnor. The umbral master of darkness wreathed his blade in a dancing, maddening crimson flame of pure mind shattering insanity, trimmed with a crackling surge of black death lightning. The figure charged with all the inevitability of a tectonic plate. The sheer force of his charge sundered the deckplate beneath him shattering the world before him as he moved with the intensity of a meteorite hurtling towards the fighting pair, with the intent to crash right into

Darth Empyrean while the Dead One swung at

Darth Carnifex .

Even as the world around them began to change with the revelation of another betrayal the Tsis'kal unleashed. A third force of contention taking the field. Rage only grew from such a treasonous act from a onetime ally. Out into the nether the Lord of Lies was a beacon of rage unbound by the carefully erect facade that once stood. Out from the corpses of the dead across this stretch of space an otherworldly voice bellowed "TRAITOR. None of you understand what true war is. You want true war? So be it." That was when the supreme warmaster of the Kainate unleashed a devastating bellow, a pulse that howled into the eternal void, pulsing through the nether itself it swept like a wave out into the vastness of space. For what seemed like an eternity there was nothing. Until a response had come in the form of a hyperspace tunnel that was the signal of an arriving ship behind the forces of the Kainate. First it was one than a dozen and after there was too many to track as sensors could scarcely keep up with it all. A series of capital ships large and small belched from the void.

Some were large hulks while others as small as frigates and freighters. Their classifications many hailed from the vast former Sith War Fleets Black Iron and Leviathan while others were of a more rugged, unrecognizable design. In the center of it all were a series of vast black daggered ships clad in hulls eerily similar to that which covered the Eternal Rule. When annihilation was the only path forward. When there was a threat great enough, hated enough that they could no longer suffer to live. There was only one place to turn. The Blackblade Guard. Superhuman destroyers. They were renown as jedi and mandalorian butchers who maintained the ability of hyper lethality in every field of battle from space to ground warfare. But there was a universal truth to their true purpose, their strategic tendencies: Planet kill, extermination and extinction operations, devastating shock assault and linebreaker operations, close quarters, boarding actions and purgation operations, annihilation. Highlord Osbasid stood as their master and he led them into the battle.

Darth Carnifex · Jul 10, 2022

It had all fallen apart.

What had begun as a clearly demarcated field of battle, Eternalists on one side and Kainites on the other, had devolved into a jumbled mess of corpse-hulks and debris. Star Destroyers drifted amidst the carnage, their bellies slit and their guts spilling out to further pollute the battlefield. Piloted starcraft deftly maneuvered through the debris field, dipping under colliding hulks and pirouetted through their eviscerated hulls.

Those of lesser acumen joined the wreckage, but the battle was becoming so congested that even skilled pilots were finding it difficult to maneuver. Automated drones buzzed just outside the debris field, opening fire on any enemy ships that tried to break free of the quagmire.

Malsheem loomed behind it all, a gargantuan fixture against the chaos and madness. Its defense grid remained operational, withstanding the larger fire from enemy warships with its robust shields, while forests of turbolasers and flak guns belched plasma against squadrons of enemy fighters and bombers that passed through the magnetic shielding. It was the first time Malsheem's defenses had been tested against a real enemy, against an actual threat.

It could not comprehend the enemy within.

The betrayal was immediately felt, and the response was swift. Fighting broke out in the affected sections, portions of the shield were switched off by turncoat commanders and technicians. Fire began to blossom across disparate surface sectors, superficial damage to the external levels. It was noted by those responding to the crisis that the internal structure had not been attacked, the reactors were still functioning. A worry quickly spread, that the enemy was not seeking to destroy Malsheem, but to commandeer it.

Belief that the Eternalists were behind this quickly dissipated, for it was evident that the Eternalists were being betrayed as well.

There was a third faction in this game, and the rules had gone out the window.

Kill or be killed.

There is only survival.

Darth Carnifex reacted quickly, His cursed blade snapping up to defend Himself from Empyrean's hellish melee. Empowered by the Dark Side of the Force, the three Dark Lord fought with such ferocity and speed that they were naught but blurs of darkness. Rarely had such a contest been witnessed, let alone at the heart of such a grotesque amalgamation of fire and steel. Within the three was the strength and will to govern the Sith, together they would have been unstoppable, but the nature of the Dark Side necessitated dominance.

And none were willing to bend the knee, they couldn't.

So they fought viciously, two against one. The Black Iron Tyrant, the Lord of Lies, and the Dead God. Eternalists and Kainities.

Winner takes all.

An involuntary grunt slipped past Carnifex's lips as His head recoiled from the impact of Empyrean's foot, the impact dislodging Him from the Eternal Rule's ruined bridge. He collided with one of the many escort ships that was now unnaturally conjoined with the Eternal Rule. Metal buckled beneath the weight of His collision, coolant spilling out into empty space from deep cracks in the hull. The vacuum of space did not threaten Him, for He had evolved beyond such petty concerns. Standing up on the hull of the ruined cruiser, the Black Iron Tyrant surveyed the mangled fleet.

And sensed the betrayal as it unfolded.

"Destroy our enemies, my fire-tempered sword." The Blackblades had heard the clarion of their master's call, and had rushed forth from the shadows to slay. "Root them out, adversaries and traitors. Leave none that stand against the Eye."

His will be done.

Darth Prazutis |

Darth Empyrean

Darth Empyrean · Jul 10, 2022

The hit on Carnifex landed with a solid and satisfying thud - launching him from the flotsam of the Eternal Rule into another of its conjoined corpses. The metal shredded, falling into the vacuum of their space like dust; but Empyrean could only enjoy the sensation for second as the Lord of Lies came down upon him like a meteor - full of strength and providence, confidence in his nephew and the Twice Emperor. The Dead God brought his black smoke like hand up to catch the blade - a simple ask for someone of his strength.​
​
He was certainly fast enough, processing the strike before Prazutis could even throw it thanks to the assistance of his eyes, but his strength for all its worth did not match the blade's pressure. It cut through Empyrean's hand, split his forearm, and was only stopped by the intervention of of his staff - creating a massive pressure circle near his elbow. It snapped what remained of the arm - exploded it into an array of lights and strength before launching Empyrean himself far from the strike.​
​
Metal caved in around him as he was launched into the belly of the Eternal Rule. When he settled, it was in a tight crevice - with coolant pipes, wiring harnesses, and subframes stabbing at him. He used the Force to push it away before it could be used to restrain him further; but the distant sensation of chaos had grown more notable. The Kainites, the Eternals, both forces had been intruded upon - attacked.​
​
Fighting a conventional enemy was a simple thing - Empyrean already accepted that if everyone in this field were to die this day but him, it would be an acceptable loss; but he could not ensure he was the only survivor with unknown agents interfering. He couldn't sense the machinations of the Maw - doubted they had the enguinity to accomplish this, so the list was rolled down to only a few.​
​
They would make themselves known soon, he was sure. They could face justice when that time came.​
​
He brought the Force around him, reformed his arm of midnight black, and floated back to the bridge where Prazutis was - and Carnifex would no doubt soon be.​
​
"It would seem we've been intruded upon.", he'd offer plainly, twirling his staff in his free hand.​
​
"We should end this quickly."​
​


 Darth Prazutis
// 

 Darth Carnifex​

UX-0626 · Jul 11, 2022

Location: Overbridge - Malsheem, Askaj System
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Imperial Basic” │ <”ur-Kittât”>
Kainate:

Darth Prazutis

Aedan Miles
Sith Eternal:

Darth Empyrean

Xzinn Dronnol

Venn Kolis
Tsis’kal: Dvasia

Kalzok
Inquisition:

Alina Tremiru

Dragus Jakar
Direct Engagement: Dvasia

The heretic was fast, darting out of the path of the reflected electricity and the discharged sonic spheres with blinding speed. Had he used such speed offensively, the strand-cast might have been blitzed outright. In that regard, she was lucky that he instead launched into yet another self-righteous lecture, allowing the adrenal synthesized by her armor’s medical suite to get into her bloodstream, heightening her reflexes in the process. While the drug wouldn’t give her the Sith’s blistering speed, it would enhance her ability to keep track of the Sith’s movements.

That alone might save her life.

Dvasia said:
"So arrogant. So blind. You speak your master's words as if you actually believe them to be your own. You can't see this divide shouldn't be. That the Eternalists and Kainites aren't different! We're all Sith! You're too eager to fight and die for nothing, but the will of tyrants... But what else should I expect from a strand casted slave? You were created only to serve. To fight and die for someone greater than you could ever be. You'll pay for your lack of vision, you weak minded, forceless scum! It's time to fulfill your destiny."

“I live for a God.” UX-0626 cut back as the Sith closed in, before delivering a powerful kick which struck the strand-cast on the side of her helmet-clad skull. While the blow’s force was mitigated by the kinetic-dampening fluid incorporated into her armor, it did not change the fact that the kick was delivered by a Sith who was capable of enhancing the power of his blows through the Force. As such, the kick, then the punch thrown immediately after, sent the Hapan reeling, the taste of blood on her lips as she staggered back before collapsing onto a knee, down but not beaten, in spite of the fact that she had lost her grip on her carbine.

“You'll die for a rotting corpse.” The strand-cast hissed, hatred seething in her tone.

Not a moment later, the heretic revealed his true colors, but to the strand-cast, it mattered not which faction or pretender he served.

She would kill them all.

By the time the Sith charged, the strand-cast was back on her feet. This time, she had no intention of letting him get into hand-to-hand or melee range. She immediately brought her right arm up, lining it up with the heretic’s upper chest from six meters away before firing two bursts of sonic energy on the highest setting, carrying the potential to shatter bones and wreak havoc on auditory organs.

"Taral" Sith Trooper Armor - Designation: UX-0626
- Gauntlets
  - Wide-Beam Sonic Stunner (2) - L/R
- Undersuit
  - UL-14 "Virtus" Class Underlay
- Energy Shield
  - Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
- Thighs
  - FAE/MDW-01 Active Defense System (2) - L/R
    
    Pink Vapor Nano Missiles - L
    
    Pink Vapor Nano Missiles - R
- Utility
  - Neahtid Earpiece
~~KIIR-19 ‘Banshee’ Sonic Carbine~~
Freebirds Industries L-7 Heavy Pistol
Flash Grenade (2)
Impact Grenade (2)

Venn Kolis · Jul 11, 2022

Darth Empyrean

Darth Strosius

Xzinn Dronnol

DEATH, BE NOT PROUD

The Askaj System​

Venn gaped in shock as the Blackblade Guard dropped out of hyperspace and into the fray of the battle. Well, that certainly changed things. He shook from his stupor as, among the many clamoring voices of fleet officers asking for orders, for direction, he finally processed Alisteri's voice over the comlink.

The apprentice replied into his wristcom, a little dazed by the sheer size of the new enemy fleet. {"Retreat...? Whatever you had handled before, old friend, you certainly don't anymore. A Kainite fleet just dropped out of hyperspace, tactical computers still can't determine its exact size-"} 

He cut off as a petty officer identified the lead ships. Black Iron... Leviathan?! Venn cursed. {"Narâpe! Its the Highlord Obsadib.... Osbadib? Odsadbib- look, Haxim, just brace when I tell you! You've got fire incoming."} And he opened his fleet channel, a strained smile on his face. {"All cruisers, form a defensive perimeter around the Acerbitas. Maintain distance from the Eternal Rule- do not engage the Kainite flagship if you like living in this dimension. Hypervelocity batteries, prepare to fire! Let's earn some names, people."}

The hulking black hulls of the new arrivals to the battle seemed to swarm like Maalraas in the sky. An awful large fleet to take on with just six ships. And there was still no word from Dronnol... karabast. Venn pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was coming on. Fighting one's allies was a huge pain.

A barrage from the Blackblade turbolasers splashed across the shields of Venn's Siege Cruiser, shaking the bridge as the reactive shielding fired back in a short-range attack that obliterated a handful of hostile fightercraft. Lights began to flash. Officers were yelling to be heard. This was it.

This was... awesome! Headache forgotten, Venn grinned savagely as he finally got to scream over the comlink what he'd been waiting to all damn day. "OPEN FIRE!!!"

Darth Strosius · Jul 12, 2022

Location: Acerbitas
Objective: Reach the Bridge and Unleash the Scroll
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor, Sith Scroll
Tags:

Darth Ophidia / Dvasia /

Venn Kolis
~~---------------------------------------~~

A little flurry of muttered curses left him under his breath at his friend's response, his gaze shifting around as the air seemed to go still all at once despite the battle raging on. "Venn I'm serious! Forget the fething Kainites and pull back before-" His attempt to try and interrupt his fellow Sith, who himself was interrupted by something as well, paused as he felt the tension finally snap.

His hand dropped from his helmet, ignoring how his friend's voice grew fuzzy and distant as he felt a shift across the battle. It was time. The crowds near him, guards, service personnel, and Sith alike, suddenly erupted into chaos as blasters started being turned on their allies and lightsabers snapped to life in dreadful hisses as the Acerbitas briefly rocked from incoming fire. He had to get to the bridge. Now.

He pulled his lightsaber into his hand and ignited it, charging forward down the hall. The masked Knight had managed to get on the same deck as the bridge and had gotten close, but his clearance wasn't high enough for him to take a direct route. Now though, clearance didn't matter. He rushed past scenes of fighting, of confused and caught off-guard Eternalists that now found themselves fighting people that were allies barely a minute before. Alisteri had little time to stop and help any of his new allies in the struggles, they would do their job and he had to do his in return.

He came upon one door, one that had been shut due to the battle, and stopped before the fresh corpse of a guard. The other still living guard looked up at the Sith as he approached, but Alisteri merely pointed at the closed door. "Kruso tave Sarrai. I require passage to the bridge." With a nod the guard slammed on the control panel and the door slid open, then resuming his position by the door as if nothing had happened.

"Many thanks." Without further delay he pressed on, tightly gripping his weapon as he prepared himself for the march to the bridge. There would be bodies to step over and living to push past, but he would do it. The scroll hidden in his robes was merely a constant reminder of his mission. Get to the bridge.

Tithon Antilles · Jul 13, 2022

The synthetic impression of Typhojem spoke through the remote relay, warning Tithon of the incurion within the belly of the flagship. He frowned, lips curling into a mix of outward disgust and anxiety - a rare emotion for the well versed Admiral. He tapped a few keys on his console, putting all nearby rooms into lockdown - turrets, droids, and blast doors activating in unison. Were there any left in those rooms now, they would die with him.

That was simply to be their fate.

"ETA on arrival with the Malsheem?", Tithon asked the AI.

"Two minutes, Admiral. We are charging the micro-jump drive as we speak. Is there anything you'd like me to record for posterity?"

He furrowed his brow and then nodded - slow but assured of his goal.

"Draft the following - To my Son, I am proud of you.", he began.

He wouldn't stop until his peace was made and the message was beginning to transmit to whatever core world his child stayed on now.

Kalzok

Darth Prazutis · Jul 14, 2022

Theirs was the fire.

Even shrouded through black hued, dagger shaped destroyers and carriers. They exuded an overpowering aura of dread and foreboding doom. It wasn't out of any otherworldly power in the force no it was out of sheer presence, reputation of their infamy known throughout the galaxy for the horrors they perpetrated. Space glowed with a new radiant heat from the fires belched from their batteries. Every ship was a heavily armored warship geared for battle, even the carriers bearing the bulk of the vast legion sized forces. Due to the specialized nature, time of training, resources, but those were trivial compared to the overall importance of the legions. The legions of the Blackblade Guard very rarely mobilized in forces larger than a single legion at a time out of the seven legions that comprised them. The destructive power of a full legion was enough to bring entire sectors into submission, worlds quaked in fear and even the harshest warzones broke to avoid an invasion of the guard. In this modern era even among the famed Mandalorians there were very few who warranted such attention. An ideological force that was even greater in purity, loyalty didn't exist in the Galaxy. The last time such forces gathered it was for Decimation, after Operation Hammerfall that saw the Mandalorians shattered as a galactic power. They had assembled for the grand assault then that completely shattered the enemy, and carried out the mass slaughter that followed to perfection. Now they came in defense of Malsheem in the wake of such a terrible betrayal. Only specialized crews were chosen to man the various destroyers, carriers and battleships that brought them to the battlefield. A depraved lot accustomed to handling the unrelenting butchery and sadism of the terror inducing monsters. The first wave that swept out into the void was a coordinated movement as opposed to a swarm. Fighters and interceptors protected the shielded transports while auxiliary forces came in to further shroud them while they descended on the worldcraft. None not even the most affluent betrayers could override their clearance as transports specially fitted to hold the might of the guard found open hangars. As soon as the ramps descended however…

Death had come.

It was an iron tide of giants that emerged from within the lightless compartments like abominations crawling out of the void. They were a unified wall of reinforced gammaplast as dark as the void around them with various markings and stripes of white and red denoting some inherent unit markings and individual ordinals foreign to all. Their appearance was made ghastly by the shimmering glow of personal energy shields that distorted their giant shapes into an appearance of some gaseous wraith out of a fantasy book. The cold sting of betrayal unleashed a fire in the unshackled, unleashed Lord of Lies, as all of Malsheem erupted in the wake of the Tsis Kal's revelation and traitors among their ranks. Gone was the facade of the man he used to be, gone was the man. When all seven legions of the Blackblade Guard took landfall they did so with the black rage of their master burning in the backs of their skulls. The outrage set their nerves on fire and threatened to burn their skulls from the inside out. When the ramps slammed against the cold, hard ground amidst a battle of loyalists and traitors. As all parties turned to face the new arrivals with varying reactions, as loyalists turned with hope to see reinforcements. A singular word rolled off the decks in the breath of a howling roar of hundreds, then thousands and tens of thousand and countless more. An ancient word in Epicant that was a form of blood vengeance. The kind of vengeance for death, loss, and betrayal that needed to be avenged no matter the cost. This betrayal that ran so deep and so high was a failure on every level. A failure of the Kainate itself. Then their guns all sang in unison and drowned the world in wrath. The interior of the assault transports glowed with a bright crimson illuminating the black hued butchers as the heavy harvester cannons and executioner blasters roared.

Loyalist and traitor alike were butchered in the ensuing barrage. Tore to shreds in oncoming fire that burned the hallways black with explosions and bent the hull inward, blasting bulkheads and turning this carefully constructed metal world into a hallways and corridors of twisted metal hell. Each individual bolt was a volatile amaranth powered death that created violent explosions when it collided with armored organic forms, blasting them apart into blackened pieces. They charged them down then. When these inhuman giants made contact it was a horrific sight. It was like trains ploughing through livestock as armored behemoths struck with vicious bladed weaponry of various forms, becoming lost in the carnal butchery that long since stopped being combat and more a complete and total debauchery. Screams sang through the air then in shock and horror. Traitors died next to loyalists at their blades. Some dropped to their knees to profess their loyalty to the great masters and found their bodies cleaved in two for their groveling. Entire hallways, rooms were being transformed into oceans of blood, mass graves in a blackened nightmare. Security clearances were shut down all at once and the entire planetoid was beginning various defensive procedures.
_____________________________________________________________

In the remnants of the shattered bridge the triumvirate of Dark Lords assembled once more. The Dead God crawling out of the bowels of the Eternal Rule and the Butcher King returning from the hull of whatever ship he crashed into. It was rare to have three individuals of such strength together. It would've been a grand spectacle to see them fight in a grand event for all Sith to see, a testament to what was truly possible if one kept faith in the dark side of the force, if one paid the price for ascension each time. Their strength would've been beautiful united, glorious unleashed upon the forces of light and see them drowned in a tide of blood and violence. But the need to dominate and destroy ran far beyond an ideological belief, it ran deep into their genes. Those rare individuals blessed with supremacy over the many, destined to rule over the flock. It was an unspoken understanding between the three of them all with different origins and lives, they found common ground then. All remade in the crucible of the dark side into something greater. They were the evolution of the Sith Order from the failings of the past for the sith alone were masters of their destiny. Each time they were smashed into the ground, their opponents tried to grind them into the pages of history. Each and every time they returned stronger than ever. This would be the end of one chapter and the beginning of another right on this piece of masterful engineering by the galaxys best shipwrights.

The form of Darth Empyrean spoke a simple truth then. In the fires of Odavessa he emerged appearing as nothing more than a charred corpse. Skin was broken and sundered, misshaped beyond recognition there was nothing even remotely human left on the man. Skin, hair, even lips were burned off to reveal the contenders toothy maw. Nothing should've survived what he went through then but once again the power was there if he was willing to pay the price. This charred demon was held together by the might of darkness alone, an accursed immortality that no conventional force could ever hope to stand against. The translucent, scintillating form of the umbral giant gazed upon him with new eyes, in him he saw the brightly burning soulfire within him. Power that could be put to purpose. Even now with his expanding new rebirth his mind ran with the possibilities of what could be done with a soul that powerful. The grip tightened on Daesumnor then and the blade pulsed with the aching need to pierce the heart of this demon and allow its soulstealing power to rip the soul out of his undying body. It already tasted him once and it was rare things survived the brutal killing power of a blade gifted with the power to reap all life existing in the cosmos, burning with fire to shatter the mind and destroy the physical. "The traitors will die screaming before the end, so it is written. The Shadow will find no respite from the Blade coming for her throat." This time the voice came from the man himself, lips opening to allow a blasphemous tongue to spill forth and blight the world around them. It was a deep, thrumming baritone that echoed with the death screams of untold billions. There was a cold nature to it enough to frost up the windows as the words tumbled out.

"This conflict will meet its conclusion. Your transformation has come too late Worm-Slayer. You will find no victory here. Only death waits for you in these halls. I will claim your soulfires as I will claim hers. I will flay the soul of the Shadow and reign from a throne of the corpses of your fallen, and we shall raise a new empire out of the ashes. Then the galaxy will burn." Might pulsed from the runeblade in waves across the bridge causing the world around them to darken, a form of eclipse that began to drown out the light and cast them in deep shadows. Out from this churning blackness came clawed hands then. They were a physical, burning darkness that struck out with force to try and not only crush but also immobilize the form of the Dead God. The Lord of Lies descended once more with purpose, each footfall boomed on the deck as he descended with a furious barrage of his enflamed blade.

Darth Empyrean |

Darth Carnifex

Kalzok · Jul 15, 2022

O DEATH, BE NOT (SO) PROUD

Revelation, Part 4
Location: In the heart of the Red Dragon
Tags:

Tithon Antilles
Tsis'Kal: Dvasia

Tithon Antilles said:
He tapped a few keys on his console, putting all nearby rooms into lockdown - turrets, droids, and blast doors activating in unison. Were there any left in those rooms now, they would die with him.

And die they did. With a cold, focussed fury, the Spine Lord tore through the few defenses remaining, his form unshackled, drifting in between the Force and the mortal galaxy. He willed chaos and destruction outwards: lightning shot from the dangling fabrics that fluttered about him, buffeted by unseen winds, striking down every droid that approached. Turrets misfired, their mechanisms failing after a cascade of one-in-a-million errors and jams, detonating themselves and shaking the corridors. Simple application of the Force ripped blast doors open as Kalzok flaoted his way past the final doors and onto the bridge. The Thaumaturge wavered for a moment: the constant screams in the Force in the maelstrom of war around the ship severed his power momentarily at intervals, and for a brief respite his mind settled into his body again.

Time to finish this.

Kalzok felt the presence of Antilles first, just before he saw him. He looked tired, withered, though Kalzok thought he could say the same for himself. The Admiral was waiting at his station.

Kalzok felt no need for words. The two Sith were of different social and spiritual stations: they had little to say to each other. All Kalzok needed to ensure was that the Admiral did not leave the ship alive. Slowly, his Warblades slid from his robes, floating into position around the sorcerer in an equidistant circle, their points gleaming in the red death-light of the battlespace outside, with the symbol of the Tsis'Kal carved into their sides.

Without warning, Kalzok let loose with a blase of Force Lightning from his eyes, the jagged tendrils of energy soaring forth to envelop Antilles, while the Warblades spun like a whirling wind of death towards him.

Dvasia · Jul 16, 2022

Location: Malsheem, Askaj System

Tag:

UX-0626

Equipment: Sith Assassin Armor | Lightsaber | Sith Assassin Hidden Blades

Dvasia thought it was funny she actually believed in gods or that he would or even could die. He would have made another insulting quip, but she didn’t give him a chance, firing two sonic shots at him.

As the Tsis’kal revealed themselves, shedding their disguises and turning against Kainite and Eternalists alike, the sounds of battle erupted around the Malsheem and in the hallway outside the overbridge. The sounds of blaster fire, lightsabers igniting and clashing mixed with the screams of the dying.

The assassin was becoming weary from the prolonged fight. His extended use of the Dark Side had made him quick and deadly, but now it was taking a toll on his body. It made him tired and slow.

He just barely dodged the first sonic shot, swiftly moving to the left of it with the last of his energy and nearly being gutted in the process. The second shot however was unavoidable. It came in high, hitting his face at an angle. His left eye and the bone around it was completely destroyed. The right eye wasn’t hit directly as the shot angled over it before flying past, but it was knocked around in his skull, damaged and knocked loose.

All he could see out of his remaining eye was the blurry silhouette of

UX-0626 as he lost consciousness, knocked to the floor by the force of the impact.

Ten Tsis’kal agents and spies entered the room, seemingly coming from nowhere. Eight of them formed a circle around the Kainite strand cast, ready to attack. The other two rushed to Dvasia’s side, picking him up off the floor and carrying him away from the battle.

As they left one of the soldiers carrying Dvasia away cursed at the woman. “Carnifex is no god and you won’t get away with this! Our master will return with your death!” It almost sounded as if the unconscious Sith was speaking through their mouth.

They couldn’t take him far, but found a secure area to perform emergency surgery. A cybernetic surgeon was brought in with a new pair of eyes. Dvasia woke up in time for the surgery to begin, his screams echoing off the walls.

A completely new eye was installed on his left side, while the right was given implants from the same manufacturer to save and improve it. Dvasia received Shisen N-5 Optical Implants, but went unconscious halfway through as they worked on his right eye. He thought the left eye’s instillation was excruciating enough and still endured it, but when they cut open his right eye he blacked out from the sheer agony.

At that point they decided to inject medicine to block the pain, despite his request to let him endure it, as he might not have survived otherwise. The doctors saved him from going into shock and repaired his eyes, even installing synthflesh over the surrounding wounds so it looked as if nothing had ever happened, but he would need time to recover and rest before going on any more missions.

Darth Ophidia · Jul 16, 2022

Darth Empyrean

Darth Prazutis
Dvasia

Alina Tremiru

The violence spread like a wildfire; the Eternals and Kainites alike reacted by turning against their treasonous ranks, and the seedlings died in throwes to the initial retribution. However, the Tsis'kal were not like any enemy their armies were accustomed to fighting. Asymetric warfare was coded into their allegiance, and the goal was now to simply hold out and cause as much terror as possible. To this end, the purge of the Blackblade guards only aided the Pale's designs.

Every death served her purpose, so long as her key pieces kept playing their part.

Dvasia had played his purpose in getting her this far and distracting the bridge of the Malsheem. Alisteri was still in play, and the sooner he enacted his ploy the better. Darth Ophidia herself was the final piece, and as she had the most key task, she also faced greatest obstacle of them all:

Demiurge.

As a foe, he was simply formidable. His abilities were less clear cut than that of Carnifex, but she had been able to gleam some of what he was capable of. By her estimate, he was more powerful than her. Or rather, he was more powerful than she portrayed herself as. For the past ten years she had doled out pieces of her power in case she was betrayed. Now that she was the betrayer and she no longer needed to concentrate on those connections, she could focus on her self.

Blood trickled down from her nose and dripped from her chin.

"Then so be it."

What light there was dimmed as darkness spread from her stygian robes like smoke. She raised her bloodshine blade in front of her, letting the bright crimson cut a contrast to the jet she bled into the room. Her face twisted into anger as she quickly stepped to meet his forward rush. She did not allow him the momentum. Instead, sought to have him impale himself on a fine point.

The thin point of the sabre thrust forward as she lunged, dipping down then up as it threatened to pierce his very heart. A second sabre flashed into being in a counter-swipe against the blow she expected from him, aiming not to stop the blade, but sever his hand at the wrist before he could finish his strike. The speed at which she moved was simply dizzying, and the precision was that of one who had perfected the artful movements of The Contention Form.

The Force seemed to flow with her motions, forming a cone of aggression that she pushed forward against his defenses.

But her battery did not end as she kept pushing forward, leading with the tips of her blades to threaten him back on his heels. One blade played defence, the other offence, and their roles switched at a moment's notice.

She did not have time for an extended fight.

Darth Carnifex · Jul 16, 2022

"Whatever indignity thrust upon us will be paid in kind, a thousand fold."

The promise was spoken through clenched teeth, the Butcher King readying His blade for another attack. The runes along its flat edge danced with color, the horde of souls trapped within writhing as the power of darkness flooded through the very core of the weapon. Carnifex dragged the palm of His hand against His blade, slicing open the soft flesh of His palm and leaving a thick smear of black blood. Blackened blue flames burst forth from the blood, coating the entire weapon in a sheen of crackling fire that seemed to draw in what heat remained on the shattered bridge.

Swinging the blade as deftly as any lightsaber, the Butcher King rejoined the battle with the Corpse-Lord. Wherever His dire-blade struck, the ground was rent as though slashed by a Gundark's claw; metal splitting open for several yards. The shorn metal curled at the edges, burning with unnatural flame, one that exuded no heat but consumed anything it came into contact with. The drifting graveyard hulks that ensnared the Eternal Rule began to catch fire, spouts of blue flame venting from cracked seams with the same intensity as full-throttle ion engines.

In amidst the ferocious melee, Carnifex found a spare moment to speak. "All that stand against the inevitable shall be cast down upon the rocks, their blood used to water the starways. The traitorous snakes will get their rewards in due time, Worm-Spawn, but it shall be your blood that we stain our hands with first." The Butcher King reached out, grasping the mangled ruins with the power of the Dark Side, and clenched His hand into a tight fist. The bridge, what remained of it, began to buckle and fall in on itself around Darth Empyrean, seeking to entrap and crush him beneath the weight of a collapsing star.

Hyperstrenuous motion, Demiurge's blade deflected the blow made for his heart. Moving faster than the Human eye could process, the two allies-turned-adversaries maneuvered with unnatural precision. Their blades connected, disconnected, and then connected again in an endless pirouette of thrust and counter, counter and thrust. She held two blades, one to strike and the other to defend, against his singular weapon. But he was just as quick with one weapon as with two, and the explosive ferocity of their early blows became tenuous repetition. Everything they had learned, everything they had trained for, led to this very moment in time when they were both fighting at their maximum.

Neither had expected, nor desired, to flex these muscles in battle against one another. But both understood that this day was a distinct possibility, especially as the bonds that held them together frayed more and more with every rotation. It should have been obvious, letting the snake so deep into your midst was bound to end cataclysmically. Part of Carnifex and Demiurge believed that they knew Ophidia better than they actually did, that they believed the accords they made were more ironclad than they were.

Perhaps that is why tears stained Demiurge's cheeks, watered his sight. Carnifex would not have given Himself to emotion, He was incapable of it. Yet still, even incapable of such things as He was, it was Demiurge who more keenly felt the sting of betrayal. Carnifex could shrug anything off, weather any storm, withstand any barrage. Demiurge, though cut from the same cloth as his doppelgänger, was not the same man, not entirely. There were keen differences between them, and this was one of them.

It wasn't just business, it was personal.

Deeply personal.

And where there was once sorrow, anger quickly rushed in to replace it. And then hate, seething hate, hate greater than the burning heart of a nubile star. So he let that hate guide his hand, lend speed, strength, and precision to each and every one of his blows. The woman in front of him, who he had watched rise from a mere acolyte to a towering lady of the Sith, was no longer his friend. She was no longer his ally.

She was his enemy.

And enemies had to be destroyed.

Darth Empyrean |

Darth Prazutis |

Darth Ophidia · Jul 21, 2022