DEVASTATION: Broken Chains (Act One)

[Zark San Tekka]

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I have whirl’d with the earth at the dawning​

When the sky was a vaporous flame​

I have seen the dark universe yawning​

Where the black planets roll without aim​

Where they roll in their horror unheeded​

Without knowledge or lustre or name.​

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KADAVO SURFACE​

[member="Deacon"] had seen better days.

He was used to this kind of undercover work, but the Zygerrian's main labor processing hub was a kind of hell on earth. Escape artist or not, he was glad it was almost time to get this show on the road because he was sweating through his rags. Nestled in the caldera of a supervolcano, only repulsorlift suspension fields kept this whole place from sinking underneath molten lava. Under ordinary circumstances, it would be a very effective escape deterrent, but these were interesting times.

Zygerrian security was robust, thankfully most of them were simple-minded enough creatures. Some hijacked Sith Imperial landing codes, a mind trick here and there, it had been a challenge smuggling armed rebels planetside but slavers were used to keeping people from getting out. Most of their security precautions did not even consider that anyone would be insane enough to try and break in.

"Hey there sweetheart," he called out to his pen's sole female guard, "What's the word?"

Her feline features twitched, and from the way she began stalking toward him, he could tell the slaver had violent thoughts. Deacon had been watching her for some time now and noticed how she was even more ruthless with the stock than her male counterparts. Probably felt like she had something to prove. That's what he was counting on. Most of the time they kept their distance, but every once in a while they leaned in close to taunt or provide discipline.

With a sneer, she raised her pain stick to send electric waves painfully coursing through his body. Suddenly the force field between them vanished. Shocked at this turn of events, the Zygerrian hesitated, but Deacon had been anticipating this very moment and did not. Lightning fast reflexes struck out, gripping her wrist and twisting the pain stick back around on its wielder.

PROJECT SITE - TRIUMPH​

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A wave of cold water struck his face, and [member="Zak Amroth"] blinked open his eyes sputtering.

"Wake up, Sheriff."

"Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud, and immediately regretted it.

His head was pounding, the lights around him were oppressive. He was definitely hungover. Zak couldn't remember the previous forty-eight hours, but that in itself wasn't unusual. His surroundings, on the other hand...he felt like he was sitting up inside an optical illusion. Non-euclidean geometry made him felt like he had to retch. This place felt like a dream, but the pulsing waves of pain radiating out from his skull served as a constant reminder that he was very much awake.

"Good question. We're off the edge of the map, that's for damn sure."

Slowly the pieces started to fall into place from the night before. The Underground had called him in for an urgent job, but on the way to the rendezvous, a strange ship appeared on his sensors and knocked him unconscious with a flash of light. Next thing he knew he was at the meeting he was supposed to be, but on their enigmatic hosts’ terms. They had offered to help, far more than they had ever offered before as far as history went.

Zak stumbled off the ship and sobered up at the sight of so many Sith Imperial personnel lying unconscious around their strangely beautiful transport. The massive station's automated facilities stretched impossibly onward, which meant there were certainly more defenders where these came from. But their benefactor's unexpected assistance had delivered them into the bowels of the enemy's stronghold before Sith Imperial sensors even picked up the arrival of a Coalition task force dropping out of hyperspace simultaneously.

"Alright gang," Sheriff Amroth pushed past the others, taking lead with an air of unearned confidence, "Move out!"

ERROR >> LOCATION UNKNOWN​

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"You know I'm here, don't you?"

The Jedi spirit raised his eyebrow in mild amazement when the mystic bowed its head in affirmation. He could walk the paths unseen, shield his presence completely from the living with a simple thought. Somehow this alien's consciousness was not so limited by matters as trivial as life and death. It seemed able to pierce that veil as effortlessly as one might pull back a curtain.

You are always here.

"I see," Zark said, even if he did nothing of the kind.

The Aing-Tii were known to be masters of time, through the practice of flow-walking they were even able to see time itself. In a sense, they existed everywhere on the timeline at once. This was a jealously guarded secret, there were only a handful of times in cosmic history when the monks had interfered with events outside the Kathol Rift. To so willingly aid the Coalition, after years of ignoring their very existence. It had drawn the Conclave's attention.

Ask your question.

"Why are you doing this?" the spirit ventured after a long pause, "Why help now?"

That is not the right question.

Its thoughts resonated in his mind, the concepts vague and undefined. Spoken language was a foreign construct to the Aing-Tii, its responses were as much a feeling as concept. This one crashed over him like a wave, so much so that his presence recoiled. Gathering the will to try again, Zark considered a different approach.

"Have you reconsidered the Conclave's offer? Are you finally taking a side?"

That is not the right question.

This time it was more forceful, and it was all the Jedi Master could do to keep his essence from spiraling back through the Mist-Beyond. One more chance. He remembered something Braxus had said to him over Rhen Var, about bending the Force itself to his will if it allowed the Sith to have their revenge. For years their Emperor had been obsessed with ancient artifacts, dig sites across the galaxy...

"The Dark Lord's building something," Zark realized out loud, and when he noticed the Aing-Tii offered no response he hesitantly added, "What is it?"

The beginning of the end.

​

KADAVO LABOR PROCESSING HUB
SURFACE ENGAGEMENT ZONE/SHARED SPAWN
Hovering over one of the larger calderas of a super volcano, Kadavo’s central processing facility is the main artery of a slave trade which is critical to maintaining the excruciating timetable for whatever secret project is under construction in orbit. Coalition militia forces have been smuggled down to a site already infiltrated by Underground agents. Orchestrated slave revolts are currently underway, provoking an overwhelming response from the Sith Imperials in orbit who have dispatched a full scale assault to counter this uprising.

SECURE DATABANKS
ORBIT ENGAGEMENT ZONE
Deep within the Sith Imperial construction yard are whole decks of technical databanks from which automated droid brains can access copies of the Empire’s entire schematic catalogue. It is the only known location outside Bastion of any information on Project Triumph. Thanks to assistance from the Aing-Tii, a Coalition strike team is en route and all Sith forces not already on their way to quell the uprising have been summoned to battle stations.

AUTOMATED FACILITIES
ORBIT SPAWN (ORC)
Although they will not explain why, Aing-Tii monks of the Kathol Rift have taken more direct action than any time in recorded history and provided the Coalition with a Sanhedrim ship to breach the Sith Imperial construction yard’s robust defenses. Blinking into existence and neutralizing any living soul in range with non-lethal weaponry, enemy operatives are now on the loose inside Project Site Triumph.

COMMAND TOWER/SANCTUM
ORBIT SPAWN (TSE)
Near the center of the construction yard is a control tower and High Command sanctum, where senior personnel of both the military and Sith Brotherhood can monitor progress and oversee the station’s internal defenses. Both are currently in a state of controlled chaos as sensor readouts and distress calls struggle to confirm the impossible intruders.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Location: Unknown location -> Project Triumph
Allies: [member="Zak Amroth"]
Enemies: Sith

Janick may have been able to gather, from the records found on Rhen Var, that some invoices seemed to be a little off for the normal operations of a slave processing center, but they still were supposed to be delivered to Kadavo anyhow. Yet, these invoices seemed to be a little vague as to what was ordered. I hope it won't be like on Rhen Var, where any support I might have had prematurely left; however, I fell asleep drinking too much of this azeotropic goodness that was the Asobi 95% tihaar, she thought, while other Underground agents were supposed to be there along with her. But as she knew, she had to be prepared for hostiles attempting to engage them, perhaps even head-on as was usual with Sith. She can feel the pressure mounting on herself to not let the people covering for her movements (and the other slicers', if any) so she had to make sure all her slicing equipment is in order, as well as her lightsabers and her suit of armor. When their mysterious benefactors finally made their reversion from hyperspace, alongside the other people called in for an urgent job...

"Alright gang," Sheriff Amroth pushed past the others, taking lead with an air of unearned confidence, "Move out!"

"We need to secure an access point into the databanks, then we can attempt to perform emergency maintenance on the databanks, emergency backups even"

 

[Light Rises]

ORBIT OF KADAVO

The Wraith had entered the Kadavo system in his StealthX and quickly activated the systems necessary to keep under the radar. The group of StealthX that did arrive had a very specific goal in mind. They were going to hit the targets the fleet couldn’t get close to. They were going to be needing to keep quiet, but they still had targets to hit. What [member="Cuan Kunn"] was looking for, and what he knew the rest of the Wraiths were after… getting a safe landing zone. The StealthX switched S-Foils to attack and his astromech gave a positive beep. The Wraiths had arrived in system, and were moving to the target area.

Pulling in behind the Old Man, Flaps had his hands on his controls and was priming torpedos. He knew they had a bit of range to go, and ideally they were waiting for the Fleet to arrive and start shelling out the base. It would give the Wraiths the cover they needed to hit their target and move onto their secondary attack zones. But for now? They had their goals, and Cuan was moving forward, off to the side of Old Man and ahead of Blue.

KADAVO SURFACE

The Underground Operative had made it to the surface. Once the word came down from on high, the Underground and other Coalition specialists made full haste out to Kadavo. [member="Peyton Steele"] had alerted both Red Blade ( @Deacon) and [member="Servant"] to head out there, from wherever they were posted. She had taken her own Starbird and rushed to the planet. Unsure where she was supposed to be, the blonde hybrid did what she was typically known to do. Arrive, understand, continue.

Touching down, she set her ship to observe and grabbed her pistol and rifle. She knew that the Aing-Tii were making moves related to this mission, and that meant a lot. Sure, she was an agent, more concerned with what she could see and feel than what some Force. She knew enough of it to keep herself alive, a sort of uncanny dodge, but no wild talent. Her pistol and black out batons, the blonde made her way to the last known position of the last team.

“Blade, you here? Servant?” She called out, encrypted to Underground networks but also able to hit the commlink he had. A quick slice on her part. But she was hoping to get in touch with any of her folks before she touched base with the other unit. The Empire was here.

And she had to find a backdoor for the information.

AING-TII CRAFT
EN ROUTE

A student of the Aing-Tii, [member="Coren Starchaser"] had learned many things, some which he could Master, others that he couldn’t. But the Jedi Master was something unique in this era. He knew that he could turn the tide. He was a warrior, a Paladin of the Light. He knew that there was a line he couldn’t cross, and understood the requirements of staying on the proper side. And turning the tide of the battle.

He was aboard one of the Aing-Tii cruisers. Relaxed. Meditating. The Jedi Master was wearing dark gray robes over his light combat armor. Armor taken from the Alliance-in-Exile armory. The armor was only designed to help mediate some damage he would be taking, but not all of it. He was a Jedi Master, he was beyond such things.

The world around him, the galaxy, was in motion. Dark and light, and the shades of gray and color between. He was concentrating on the Aing-Tii process, knowing it would open new avenues, new ways of thinking, but he was still a Starchaser. A descendant of the Jedi, and a follower of the Corellian tradition. Today was a war, and if the Aing-Tii were encouraging the strike, this was something that few had ever see. As the ship was reverting to real space, from wherever they were, he stood, calling his lightsaber to his hand.

The crystal called out to him, and granted him valor, and peace, and hope. He was ready.

 

[Credius Nargath]

Location: Command Tower
Allies: TSE
Enemies: ORC

Looking for artifacts, it truly was one of the Sith Empire's most time consuming efforts, after all...history was full of tools of might and mystery. Tombs of ancient Sith, powerful alchemical amulets and materials, tomes of sith sorcery long lost to time. Credius, under his guise as Darth Halcyon knew the importance of such endeavors all to well and supported the relentless search for them wholeheartedly, as long as he ofcourse, would be able to get his hands on them as well. His former master Darth Alepsis had taught him well; knowledge was power and where could one find greater knowledge than through the experiences of the Sith that had formed history itself with their own hands. However, only the highest echelons of the empire knew the truth behind this facility and to his own regret, Darth Halcyon was not yet privy to the information that was held at the top.

"Hmm?" The man hoisted himself up from his seat in the personal chambers he had been assigned to, still groggy from the entire strip of painkillers he had consumed to keep his excruciating internal pain at bay. His towering frame cast a large shadow in the room when his eyes flashed a bright amber, his vision peering through the darkness of space, when he could suddenly see the strange, organic craft appear out of nowhere. The alarms went off almost simultaniously with the appearance of the strange vessel which had managed to simply phase into existence to the sith lord's great surprise. "How...nevermind that, I need to get up top."

Grabbing his helmet and donning his black and purple robes, Darth Halcyon stormed out of his chambers, instantly bumping into a small squad of Sith troopers already en route to their stations. The moment they noticed the towering man exiting through the sliding doors, they arced widely to avoid bumping into him, though alas, he still managed to grab one of them by the arm, gripping it so tight that if it weren't for the trooper's armor, there would be someone screaming loudly under that sort of pressure. "Explain the situation, now!!" Bright amber eyes glared through the helmet's visor at the trooper, who with a trembling voice and equally shaking legs could only answer in compliance.

"The slaves milord, they're apparently revolting...all personnel has been ordered to their stations."

This confused the Sith Lord just enough to let go of the trooper, who hastily rejoined their squad, running away down the corridors of the command tower. "The slaves wouldn't be so foolish to revolt, without weapons or support they'd be simply asking for a genocide," The entire idea of the slaves revolting simply puzzled the man as he strode towards the central command. Something was off, seriously off. First there was that strange ship which completely breached into the planet's atmosphere without even so much as a forward alarm, now the news of slaves revolting, not to mention a full scale readiness of the troops...it simply did not add up, these were three things that should not and could not happen without a central cause or correlation. The idea of insurgents was not something which crossed the sith lord's mind, a coordinated attack he could understand, but intruders, insurgents...in such a heavily fortified and secured base of operation...it was simply a fool's errand.

Finally passing through the doors to the central command, the tension and the chaos was palpable in the air, with dozens of officers and dedicated personnel scrambling to get a grip on the situation and figure out what the hell was going on. With his hands sternly behind his back, Darth Halcyon stood still next to one of the communications officers, looking down on the man who was fidgeting nervously with the readouts of his sections sensory array. "Report, what's the status of this...slave revolt I heard about?" To the Sith Lord's surprise, the officer actually seemed to be just as puzzled as he himself, not being able to wrap his head around the situation.

"w-we...have no idea what's going on Milord," The officer trembled, his nervosity coming from both the Sith Lord towering over him and the general frustration which seemed to be present within all of the flabberghasted communications' personnel. "There is a possibility that everything is just a ruse to cover something up, Milord."

"A ruse...damn it," Realizing the mistake and the brilliance of it all, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall together inside the Sith lord's mind. "Put the station and the shipyards on lockdown...now!!"

"But Milord, the slaves..." The officer stammered.

"Whatever is going on, I will not tolerate any disruption like this, start the lock down procedure for the central station and alert high command...NOW!!"

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Orbit of Kadavo ​

Cockpit Serenade ​

Flying with: Wraith Squadron ​

In formation: [member="Cuan Kunn"] / [member="Rayf Vigil"] / [member="Frielle Kinniak"] / [member="Duke Dyson"] / [member="Decker Willo"] ​

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_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
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Loske's StealthX came out of hyperspace in the shadow of the larger flagship, alongside other Wraith's who peeled into the fray in loose formation. An assessment of what was ahead of them manifested on her HUD. Most importantly, calculations scrolled to the right of the indicated target zone. Loske estimated the number of klicks before they appeared on the screen, and she gave a mental high five to herself.

The planning that must have gone into this, Loske didn't envy the admiral's position. Charting through Wild Space was a tireless job, and coordinating several vessels and pilots to charge through unmapped territory and triangulate on set coordinates? She wondered all this absentmindedly while prepping controls for wraponry, checking her systems and ensuring Frank had a comfortable position. Maybe there wasn't much planning at all, and they were all flying by the seat of their pants. It wouldn't be the first time, all Wraith's missions up to this point had been need-to-know. No real planet names had been used until the maps were already in everyone's drives.

The comms were limited between the cloaked teams, as an additional precaution to keep Wraiths as concealed as possible until they lurched into the fray and ignited the skies with their presence.

 

[Raven Ashe]

Location: Automated Facilities
Primary Objective: Escort Extraction Personnel
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition & Allies
Enemies: The Sith Empire & Allies
Armor: Raven's Mettle

Raven didn't care who thought they were in charge. The Sheriff could play Commander from the moment they set foot on deck to till the last ember went out in their wake. If he got in her way, however, the armored 'mercenary' among them would shoulder past without so much as a sound. This was a chance she'd been looking forward to for some time. Finally...

...we can be free.

Oh, yes, the Living Darkness liked this. The Sith did not, however. Their blast doors began closing as though that would deter intruders that'd managed to come this far. All Raven did was point and a shadow was cast over the deck from some unseen source; it flew over the expanse until it crashed into the closing planes of metal. A thunderous roar and the screech of metal would fill the air as the famished force sought to bend the offending material at non-optimal angles. Alerts? There would be plenty as the doorway would signal a 'jam' but they'd already lost the element of surprise if they'd begun locking the facility down.

Monks. The term was nothing more than a sneer in Raven's mind as the shadow began to dart from one fallen body to the next. If any of them were needed alive it would be better one of those Raven had accompanied claimed them soon; the monster might spare them.

As Raven strode across the area soon devoid of life, and soon the center of conflict, she slid her copper lightsaber from its perch at her hip. Janick's words drew the helm to pivot in her direction for a moment. Someone whose plans might be worth ensuring completed. There were many different factions that would seek a successful extraction of such data. "Point the way, and I will escort you there." If she had to tear down a wall, or slaughter a platoon, Janick would be allowed her "maintenance."

Tag: [member="Zark"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"] | [member="Credius Nargath"]​

 

[Vaulkhar]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWJe6jKt4wA[/media]​

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Location: Secure Databanks
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition
Objective: Protect the databanks.

Vaulkhar sat mostly alone within the databanks upon Project Triumph. He assumed others were nearby doing whatever it is they were expected to while there. Unfortunately, the Sith Lord had been selected and sent ahead by his father to ensure all was well. As far as he knew, things had proven fine when he completed a tour of the facilities hours earlier. The slaves worked away at various tasks while the attending soldiers and officers kept the overall peace. When he had moved to depart from the station only moments before, the slaves had begun whatever foolish attempt at an uprising they could muster to overpower their captors. Unconcerned with the attempt, Vaulkhar boarded his ship. It was not until he plotted coordinated back home to Panatha did he realize the foolishness in his decision.

Quickly he departed his ship and patched himself into the line of communications utilized by the facility. It appeared others were coming to the same conclusion as he had seconds before. His thoughts raced as he dashed deeper into the facility. The databanks comprised a plethora of information that could not fall into the hands of anything or anyone outside of the empire. On arrival he barked out a series of orders to ensure the room was defensible in case an attack did come and he nestled himself down in a corner of the room close to the entrance.

Shadows gripped the Sith as he waited in patient meditation. His abilities momentarily cloaked through the force, he hoped in earnest nothing would come of this day. Vaulkhar was tired of battle. He was tired of the injuries that followed and the nightmares the plagued his nights. All he truly wanted was a nice, easy day to relax. Instead, he wound up once again at the site of a coming battle. Before him his sheathed blade rested on his knees, while his lightsaber hung at his side. He was adorned in his recently constructed battle armor, prepared for what inevitably would find its way to him.

Bloodshed.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Location: Automated Facilities
Objective: Get to the databanks
Allies: ORC; [member="Zak Amroth"] [member="Zark"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Begrudging Allies: [member="Raven Ashe"] [member="Janick Beauchamp"]
Enemies: TSE; [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] eventually

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"Care to tell us anything else we already know?" Cotan asked Janick, not even bothering to hide his sarcasm. He stowed one of his blasters back in its holster, after checking the charge on it, and resisting the urge to send some bolts Raven's way. As much as he disliked working with anybody who fell more towards the Dark Side of the Force—and that one reeked of it—he couldn't deny that they needed all the allies they could get.

And, well, he'd been specifically told not to fight all the Dark Side users, only the ones that ran the station. I wonder how many times they've had to tell Coren that.

He looked out at all the unconscious technicians and other personnel, stretching out a hand forming barriers around many of them as Raven sent her shadow darting around; it would quickly find itself bouncing harmlessly off of the protection he'd provided. "Leave them be," he growled. "Most of them didn't have a choice whether or not they worked for the Sith, let alone being sent here. Satisfy your urges when you run into somebody with a lightsaber. We're here to fulfill a mission, not to enact a slaughter."

He did doubt that she'd listen, and given that his specific role would take him away from her, he imagined that a lot of unnecessary death was soon to come. Still, he'd do what he could. "Alright, Amroth, I'm going to head off on the more indirect route, see if I can't manage to pull some attention away from you and your group," he said to the Sheriff. "Make sure to keep a close eye on your charges, eh?"

With that said, he split off from the main group with a few other Judges to back him up, making his way deeper into the facility. The numerous security systems all around would be picking up on all of them very quickly, but with any luck, some of the more powerful opposition would come Cotan's way, rather than harassing the other group. After all, between fighting the Sith Emperor himself, his uncle, and his daughter, Cotan had made himself into a fairly high-profile target.

That should draw at least some notice, right?

 

[Yula Perl]

LOCATION: KADAVO LABOR PROCESSING HUB
MISSION: REVOLT!
ALLIES: [member="Ember Farseer"]
VALIANT RESCUER: [member="Phylis Alince"] & Co.

This was, how they say, a pickle.

Like a festering wound gone septic, the Zygerrian’s influence had spread far beyond their home world, infecting the galaxy at large with their expertise in slave handling. And oh, what experts they were. Yula had the bruises and burn welts to attest to their ruthless capabilities, as had many others. They taught her quick to fall in line, not out of direct fear, but in understanding that fighting the good fight would get you nowhere. So you had to shut up, keep you head down, and acquiesce to their wishes no matter how painful or grotesque until you found an opening.

Normally dismal and thick with smog, the air that hung over Kadavo’s slave processing facility was electric. Maybe it was the revolt in full swing, or maybe the prickling of her skin was a warning of greater things to come. Or maybe she was losing it.

Several months ago, she’d picked up a lead pointing to the Zygerrians while on Zeltros. Ember had been following the same lead, and after a brief standoff between Jedi and Rogue over who-was-on-who’s side, the pair thought it best to join forces. To make a long, embarrassing story short—they’d been ambushed and shuttled to the nearest slave processing facility, the fabulous world of Kadavo. The dream team had been relieved of their possessions immediately, and Ember’s fast-acting mind trick of their capturers had dissuaded any notion that they could wield the Force. Now, they were just typical meat bags.

They’d had a hand (or several) in the rebellion, planting suggestions and subtle use of their abilities whenever they could manage. Not getting caught was the most important part. Hell, it didn’t really matter how it had started—what matter was the fact that she just rammed her stun baton into the throat of a Zygerrian guard with the force of a thousand angry pink mothers. The feline bastard let out a yowl as his body stiffened with the sudden discharge of electricity seizing his limbs. There was an unsettling sense of satisfaction in her eyes as she stepped over the sentry’s body, limp with unconsciousness and gurgling from the mouth. At the end of the hall, there lay another—a slaver who’d been choked out before Yula pilfered her stun baton.

There was that prickling sensation again, at the back of her neck. Maybe electricity was contagious like that. “Think this will get the Sith’s attention?” There was no lack of sardonic humor in her tone, but her voice cut out sharply, giving way to a hacking cough. The link between Zygerrian slave traders and the Sith Empire was well established, and their biggest concern had been being identified and transported into the hands of the Sith. At least among the general slave populace they had a chance, or so they’d reasoned.

Yula finished coughing and thumped her chest. She could have sworn that her voice had dropped a few octaves just by breathing in polluted air all month. “I mean, now that their toy is in jeopardy after all.” Whatever it was they’d been building, Yula had the urge to press her hands to anything made of metal and electricity and send a surge of chaotic energy through it until it fried. It was a great pain that Emily had taken off or been confiscated. The little spider droid could have certainly helped them uncover more. For now, they were in the dark as much as anyone else.

“Do you feel weird? Cause I feel weird.”

 

[Lark]

Location: Labor Processing Hub
Allies: TSE
Enemies: ORC
Objective: Stop the slave uprising

Lark had been to the Kadavo slave facility once before. Then, he had been looking to break a certain slave out. Now, he fought to keep the rest of them contained. The facility surrounding the super-volcano was of critical importance to the Empire, such an uprising would not be allowed to stand. Sith forces coalesced around the labor processing hub, quickly responding to the sudden threat.

This was remarkably organized, Lark thought, stepping onto the desolate planet for the second time in a matter of months. It felt nice to be back amongst Empire forces once more, months spent chasing after a ghost tended to grow weary and stale. "Any word on how this whole mess came to be?" Lark asked a nearby commander.

"We're still trying to determine the cause. The revolt was sudden, our only mission at the moment is to quell it."

The young acolyte nodded in response. Doesn't matter, I suppose. If the revolt was taking place at nearly any other slave processing facility in the galaxy, Lark would have been concerned. He believed he knew where his sister was located, but slaving was a tricky, ever-changing business. A slave could be working for a Hutt Cartel one month and be working hard labor for the Sith the next. But he was absolutely certain that his sister was not here. "Find out if an auction was taking place when the revolt started. There might be a larger number of slavers or pirates whose best interests align with our own. They care about their credits above all else, this is bad business for them as much as it is for us."

The commander nodded, and Lark drew his crystalline, ice-blue Sith sword. It had been some time since he had drawn the blade for a conflict of this caliber, soon the azure blade would be painted scarlet. "Slaughter the guilty without hesitation. Let it be known that disorder of this magnitude will be met with punishment of equal eminence."

 

[Phylis Alince]

LOCATION: KADAVO LABOR PROCESSING HUB

MISSION: HELP THE REVOLT!

ALLIES: [member="Ember Farseer"] [member="Yula Perl"] , any others.

ENEMIES: Sith like [member="Lark"]

Kadavo might as well have been hell. The smog, the pollution, the grit and volcanic activity made it one of the worst places in the galaxy.
To Phylis Alince, it was a nightmarish trek. The Jedi Master was something of an order freak – about certain things – and so the dirt and smog annoyed her. Fortunately she had a breathing mask which filtered out the worst of the atmosphere.

She had been dropped in along with a few companions several standard days before to make the approach to the processing facility overland. It’d attract less attention that way, and she could then come at the defences from an undetected and unexpected direction.

That was the plan anyway. When she had arrived she had seen the vast station in orbit. Something big and probably terrible was going on. Instinctively she had wanted to go there, but the news that there were slaves trapped of Kadavo had changed her mind. A certain Yula Perl, daughter of Joza who she knew slightly, was there. For the usually mild mannered Jedi slavery was something she vehemently disagreed and sought to stamp out. Her decision had been made.

An inside source had already told her that rebellions were underway so she had to hurry. She redoubled her pace and was soon approaching one of the massive struts. From there she should be able to find a way into the facility….

 

[Desmond C'artyom]

ALLIES: ORC
ENEMIES: SITH
STATUS: HELP THE REVOLT!

Desmond C'artyom scratched his buttocks with malicious intent. Blue fingers pressed hard against blue jeans and plummeted into crack. They were shielded from the horrors that was the blue man's butt hole by thin fabric, but that only meant the Chiss had to dig all the harder. Pressing hand firmly between chair and bum, Desmond dug deeply within. With a heavy grunt the Chiss picked away with calloused fingers. The noise was sure to grab the attention of those around him, but he cared not for the thoughts of other pirates and lowlifes, only that he had an itch that he couldn't quite reach. Desmond sighed as he found bliss.

"Finally!" He cried out and a few eyes in the auction room darted to the disturbance.

Stop picking your arse you filthy turd!

Desmond sighed as his watch beeped it's commands at him.

"Stop picking your arse," He mocked in a quiet falsetto.

His watch was a comm link in which his ship, The Tin Can, a literal flying dumpster (long story), could speak and see through in order to provide overwatch (See what I did there?) on the Chiss's schemes. Today the Chiss and his sidekicks were rescuing a princess from Zygerian slavers. The Chiss and his comrades had been hired by a Panathan emissary. The Panathan refused to divulge much about the princess aside from her name. Which Desmond had already forgotten. Regardless, Desmond had known the Zygerian's from past experience (Such as being sold by them to Imperials, but let bygones be bygones right?), so he made an obvious go between. He thought about taking the Panathan's money and running, but their was a princess involved and more credits promised.

Inspired by both lust and greed Desmond raced to the slaver's headquarters to free his new prospective bosom. He sighed in boredom as the auction went on. However it wasn't long before something strange began to happen. Thee Zygerian's began bustling about like bee's whose hive had been struck. Despite the auctioneers cries of.

"2500! 2500 over there, do we have 2600?"

It was pretty obvious to those paying attention something was wrong. Desmond raised wrist to mouth and recoiled slightly at the smell.

"What's going on?" He whispered into the com link.

Some sort of revolt. The flying garbage can beeped back in reply.

Already Desmond's mind was churning with the possibilities. He could get revenge on the Zygerian's, free the princess, and keep the cash they had given him to free her. Now Desmond was no hero, but something about this idea made his lips turn into a devilish grin.

"[member="Lulu"] I've got a plan,"

 

[Funami Teriyaki]

Location: Secure Databanks
Allies: The Sith Empire, [member="Vaulkhar"]
Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition, Boredom
Objective: Protect the databanks, Stay alive to avoid dying

Still an Acolyte with zero prestige and influence within the Empire, Funami derived great satisfaction from looking important and walking around places where she had no business being. Such as Project Site Triumph. She never would have learned about the installation under normal circumstances, but having friends in high places and being adorable had a way of getting her everywhere. Accompanying the big bad Sith Lord known as Vaulkhar on a tour to inspect the facility, she got to witness the infamous efficiency of the Empire. There were a few raised eyebrows here and there as the little pink-haired Sithing clad in Atrisian school uniform boldly strode by, yet nobody dared to comment on it. The small child got to prance about, pretending to be the Dark Lord of the Sith, and it hurt absolutely nobody. Everyone was happy.

Except for the slaves. Seeing the poor enslaved souls toll away had affected Funami greatly. Especially after seeing their daily rations. How hungry they had to be! She needed something to eat. Her stomach grumbled in approval of the notion. Time for another lunch! Funami excused herself and off she went, whistling a melodic tune while skipping through the structure in search of a cafeteria.

~~~​

As she made her return through the sterile grey corridors hours later, further empowered by a nap, Vaulkhar was nowhere to be found. A dark frown crossed her expression, for the man’s ship still waited for its owner. Funami bit her lip. Quickly glancing about, her gaze spotted a technician. The sound of little feet shuffling toward him prompted the uniformed man to turn around before she even spoke.

“Um, excuse me! Have you seen my master, he--” Funami started and was cut off by his hand pointing toward the databanks. “Okay, thanks. Ta ta!”

Waving a goodbye, the little Sithling scuttled to where her instructor was supposed to be, pink pigtails dancing at the sides of her head. The sound of her soft footsteps soon disappeared, overpowered by the sound of voices. The further she went, the more it reached her ears. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry as if on alert. Cocking an eyebrow, Funami pushed past the bodies and eventually found the dark-haired Sith lord.

“What is going on, Vaulkhar?” She asked with uncharacteristic maturity in her voice.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

COMMAND TOWER
Objective: Lock it Down, Secure Databanks
In Space:

Spoiler

• Goliath II
• War Fleet Leviathan

"Supreme Excellency. They are here."

"Location."

"We are detecting alarms on the surface of Kadavo, they are attacking the Slave Pens."

"The Outer Rim Coalition did not come all of this way, reveal themselves as they have to liberate a few token slaves. They are here for more. Lock it all down and deploy the fleet in full capacity, inform my Tetrarchy they are to liaison with station defenses. Deploy the Blackblade Guard. Project Triumph must remain secure." The Shadow Hand ordered exiting the command tower.

A short time later...

Alarms.

A storm erupted through the levels of the databanks and automated facilities. The doors burst open as the seven and a half foot giants emerged, clad in black armor toting heavy weapons. These were the Blackblade Guard the elite, cybernetic equipped super soldiers of the Sith Emperor. They swept through moving into defensive positions, pushing forward to protect the facilities with their lives. In the forfront of this defense, sweeping through the facility was a horror that could only be described as a walking Mountain. A black hole of dark energy so deep, so profound his presence crawled up the walls like spiders, it pressed against the floors and made the metal supports ache from his very passing. It was a Dark Titan clad in runed battle plate of black impervium, In his hands the giant gripped an impossibly large greatsword reaching seven feet long, it's very presence blasphemy in the eyes of the force.

As the Shadow Hand passed his presence was met with shock, relief and awe. To see the Sith Emperor's Chosen surrounded by the fabled Crownguard, the crimson armored giants towering over everything, their ten foot frames made them look like demigods. The very appearance of the Lord of Lies saw salutes, kneels, and other displays of respect and loyalty to the him and by extension the Sith Emperor. But he paid them no mind as he passed, such things were beneath notice of one so far above them. A laser focus drew his complete attention as the entire facility It was a spectacle to see the Blackblades sweep through like Angels of Death, an ill omen that the databank levels were about to turn into a bloodsoaked graveyard, if they were summoned to defend it. But it was both foreboding and welcomed, for if the fight was going to get intense there was no one they'd rather have at their side, than a Blackblade. Over the encrypted Sith-Imperial Battlenet the baritone voice of the Shadow Hand boomed.

"Attention Sith-Imperial Forces. The Outer Rim Coalition are here. All forces are directed to the Databanks. The enemy must not achieve access. There will be no prisoners, no mercy for the coalition dogs. Slaughter them all."

Darth Prazutis switched to the highly secretive, secure Blackblade Command and relayed his orders. "Fan out and lock the Databanks down. Not a single mongrel is to breach the files so long as a single guardsman lives."

Already he could feel it now. The Light's despicable presence aboard their station. They had worked too hard, achieved so much to see it all fall to ruin. If anyone dared to breach the databanks, they would face his fury.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

​

High above the ultimate weapon sat the Dark Lord of the Sith upon his throne, his being encapsulated in a spherical observation platform that afforded an unparalleled view of the surrounding construction yard and the warships that meandered nearby. Dark emotions roiled off of him like smoke from a chimney; anger, sadness, guilt, fear, anxiety, discouragement, despair, disappointment, frustration, and apathy. Through the miasma of these shadowy sensations he found umbral power, intoxicating and utterly malign, that seeped into every fiber of his existence, permeating flesh, bone, and spirit. He was the center of a calamitous storm, vampirically leeching the suffering from the barren world far beneath his feet.

Such death and violence served as sustenance, empowering the profane weapons of the ultimate weapon with Dark Side energy. Now that violence has become amplified, the flames of hate fanned by the outbreak of resistance and rebellion. The Dark Lord could sense that the anointed hour drew ever closer where he would at last unleash the weapon against the galaxy, but for now the weapon laid dormant as chaos and conflict bracketed the project site.

Gnarled talon depressed the holo-comm communicator built into the throne's armrest, summoning a holographic vision of the Project Triumph's security chief. "Hear me, supplicant, and obey. Liquidation of the chattel is to begin immediately and in perfect totality, the weapon will be, must be, satiated by their blood." Having no other recourse but to obey, the Security Chief affirmed compliance and saluted his Supreme Excellency before his visage disappeared into empty space; undoubtedly to ensure that his Emperor's command be thoroughly transmitted to every Sith-Imperial commander in the system with a firm aide-memoire that willful noncompliance was punishable by death.

A shift in the Empire's tactics against the slave rebels would become evident at once, as greater weapons of destruction and death were levied against entire sections of the processing facility that the slaves had managed to usurp.

The reigning in of the slaves has ended.

Now began their extermination.

 

[Seniya Nehir]

Location: Automated Facilities
Objective: Question Life Choices, Snark, Get to the Databanks. Close a case.
Allies: ORC | [member="Zak Amroth"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Raven Ashe"] | [member="Janick Beauchamp"]
Enemies: TSE
Gear: Neo Noir Special, Lightasbers, Pinprick Needler, Skeleton Key Omnicutter.

As if torn from the pages of bad pulp novel, it had started with a woman.

A dame with a set of getaway sticks that stretched on for miles, leaving little to the imagination and yet perhaps a little too much when framed by the humble setting of a P.I.’s office. Too refined and put together to belong to the local riff-raff that shuffled their way through those doors. It was never a good sign nhen folks had the kind of money it took to look respectable on Terminus. If she had been smart about it, Seniya would have passed on the case then and there, but as always the need to keep the lights running outweighed her caution.

Fast forward a few weeks, the promise of that woman’s payday had seen her dragged from one end of Coalition territory to the next. Racking up the daily expenses and a headache only paled in comparison to the one she sported now along the way, chasing down one dead end lead after the next, only coming up empty handed at every turn. That was, until she stumbled on the trail of the infamous Underground. Again, if Seniya had been smart, she would’ve been back home by now, eating some lousy Trandoshan-Atrisian fusion out of a cheap cardboard container and wondering when [member="Dagon Perl"] was finally going to earn his keep.

But she had been in too deep at that point. Whether due to built up frustration at hitting every duracrete wall with the case or simply caught up in the phantom echoes of her former life as Jedi, she hadn’t been able to turn away. Doubling down when she should’ve been cashing out.

And now she had the mother of all karking headaches to show for her troubles, as if every brain cell had been shoved through the wringer twice over and once more for good measure, stumbling back into the world of conscious and laboured thought in the middle of… Well, that part was still unclear. All she knew that the Sheriff of Terminus - Sheriff, ha! As titles went, that was akin to being the god king of osikheap mountain given his jurisdiction - had the most grating of voices. Every scratching syllable tumbling out of his mouth serving to accentuate the pulsing pain that presently blazed a trail out from her temples. The other members of their ragtag party only adding fuel to the proverbial fire.

“Hold up a second, Amroth.” The Kiffar Investigator called, regretting each and every pain-ridden word as she moved towards the unconscious forms of the Sith that laid spiralled around them in every direction. Deft, practiced hands quickly making short work of a cursory pat down to come away with a pair of communicators for her troubles. Only a matter of time before they’d wise up and change the frequencies, but even a fleeting temporary edge was an edge all the same. No security card, however. No all too convenient golden ticket or all access area pass to speak of. No such luck. “Not to punch holes in your clearly well thought out plan, but have you got any idea where you’re even going?”

She tossed him one of the coms as she spoke, the grumpiness of having been essentially abducted and thrown into the midst of a daring raid - something she had sworn never to attempt again after the nightmare of Thyferra had closed the chapter on her life with the Galactic Alliance - serving to put more than a little extra oomph behind the throw. “Please tell me your plan isn’t just to run around aimlessly and hope we come across something that looks like an objective.”

 

[Zef Halo]

LOCATION: KADAVO LABOR PROCESSING HUB
MISSION: REVOLT!
ALLIES: [member="Yula Perl"]
VALIANT RESCUER: [member="Phylis Alince"]
FOE: [member="Lark"]

After his return from the Unknown Regions to the known galaxy, Ember had been slammed with an unbearable weight of guilt and regret. He had followed a Force vision to the unknown helping different, alien civilizations in their battles against evil. In the name of charity and good will he shepherded the weak through the valley of the darkness.

But as he torched the road ahead with light, he left everything behind in the veil of shadows.

The Jedi Praxeum.

Alden Belmont and Harper Kade.

Anais Auraeli.

All of them.

With a hardened resolve, Ember Farseer tried to move on forward. In the name of the Light.

It led him to a Zygerrian slave trade and [member="Yula Perl"] - the daughter of Joza Perl, an acquaintance of his during his Jedi tenure in the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim. Together they had fought the Mandalorian assault over Utapau and with a heavy price to pay - they had won.

Yula, as a younger girl, lacked her mother's maturity and the two had come into a nearly friendly bout of what's right. Nonetheless, they had found a way to work together ending up onto a trail of something far bigger than a simple slave trade. Something devastating with the label of The Sith Empire on it. Before they could find out more they were ambushed and caught.

It didn't take them long to formulate a plan and now they found themselves in the midst of a slave uprising led by the charismatic figure of the Togorian Spartapus.

"I do." Ember gravely nodded knowing full well that feeling something weird as his forces were limited was a very bad harbinger. "The Sith are here."

"We need to find our belongings." the Jedi Knight picked up a datapad from one of the security guards and with a quick sleek touches of a slicer accessed a map of the labor processing hub along with a guide on processing slaves. One of the steps was the removal and safekeep of slave items in a certain warehouse within the facility not far from their position. "Let's go, Yula."

He squinted at the further end of the corridor as the sound of battle seemed to drown beneath the odd and twisted feeling running up his and Yula's spines.

"Fast."

The Jedi led the way.

 

[Kaida Taldir]

Location Kadavo Labour Processing Plant
Mission: Revolt, I suppose.
Allies: [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Ember Farseer"], [member="Phylis Alince"]
Enemies: Sith

Fight the good fight! Free the oppressed (and hopefully don't leave them destitute afterwards)! Fight the Evil Empire! It was all very noble and idealistic. Kaida was not an idealist.

Being an Eldorai she hated slavery, Sithlings and so on. Her people had suffered greatly from the rapaciousness of foreign slavers and invaders. However, while not without sympathy for the downtrodden who had been forced into chattel slavery, she was not here for idealistic reasons. Such notions had been burnt out of her when Kaeshana was destroyed twice over.

Bottom line, the uprising was a good distraction for the other Coalition forces. Kaida was being paid. The Shadow Knights had many things going for them, such as the lack of a Monarchy, nobles or Firemane lackeys. However, they were short on credits, what with being a nomad fleet of renegades and all that. Regardless, Kaida was here. The sounds of battle could be heard coming from the distance. She was supposed to link up with some Jedi. Hopefully not the sort who would suddenly turn Sith. Kaida was, as always, a person of a remarkably sunny disposition.

Force Stealth concealed her Force aura and the no-show attached to her suit of light Phrik armour should help mask her from sensors for a while. Alas, this place was very hot. This annoyed her quite a bit, as she was the type to find Hoth comfortable, but she would manage.

She moved surreptitiously, approaching one of the struts that should lead her to where she could link up with her party members. She had considered taking her own team mates, but Tryana was naive and Eyrecae could not stop being long-winded. Besides, her writer was already using the Jedi librarian. Maybe she'd run into her on the way.

 

[CDR. Marric Aurelius]

Location: Kadavo Labour Processing Hub - Orbit-to-Ground Landing Pad
Primary Objective: Suppress the revolt.
Secondary Objective: Capture or execute revolt leadership, or any identifiable 'enablers'.
Allies: TSE
Enemies: Slave Rebels, ORC, Any who support them here

Of all the possibilities Captain Marric Aurelius of the 209th Imperial Legion had envisaged for his first campaign since his long spiel in the Unknown Regions, putting down a slave revolt in cold blood hadn't come up first on his list.

While a part of the former Fel Imperium officer, turned Sith Legionaire, wasn't quite entirely without sympathy for those souls who;d toiled under such horrific conditions, the recent;y-received distress calls which had resulted in his unit's sudden divergence to Kadavo shunted that empathy out of his mind. By all accounts, the revolt - backed to the hilt by a band of agitators and murderers self-proclaimed as the 'Outer Rim Coalition' - was cleaving a path through the facility's meager security forces; now, the 'regulars' were being forced in to clean up the mess.

A chirrup from his communicator forced the armoured officer to pause his brief evaluation of his arrived cohorts; he retrieved the device and listened in before, snarling in frustration, he shut it off once more. It seemed that his unit's assigned AT-HE's, the 209th's mailed fist, had been delayed in their drop, and they would not be due to make planet-fall in totality for another hour once the log-jam got cleared.

"Ah well," Marric muttered, unfolding his rifle's stock and readying it. "Infantry alone, for now, it is. 'Amen and Attack', as my old master would have put it."

Signalling his sub-commanders to move their units off, Marric waited for the closest platoon of Legionaires to form up on him before he moved off, Rifles and lit glowrods tracked across the ashen gloom as some of these first outside Sith-Imperial reinforcements began their penetration into this new heart of galactic madness ...

 

[WolfMortum]

KADAVO LABOR PROCESSING HUB​

SURFACE ENGAGEMENT ZONE/SHARED SPAWN​

[member="Ember Farseer"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Phylis Alince"]​

Jedi Robes | Lightsabers​

​

​

​

Slavery, the epitome of aggression against the free-will of the people. It was so alike the Empire to dabble in such an immoral act, and something that neither Veiere nor his wife had ever tolerated when given a chance to act against such a trade. Today, Veiere had arrived on the surface of Kadavo alongside militia personnel of the Outer-Rim Coalition, acting with the intent of representing the Order's sincerest regards towards the Sith, with the plan of interrupting their operations there.

The facility was located in a rather morbid and heated environment, darkness surrounding the target of the Coalitions rebellion. A strong imperial facility high atop the volcanic terrain of Kadavo. Needless to say, Veiere Arenais was in the thick of it again, for high above in orbit of the world they were beseiging, had been a startling space-station they had not anticipated nor received any indication of it's likely presence. It was in fact, monstrous...-Yet so rarely were the Sith known for their subtleties. None the less, this was the objective, disruption of the slave trade...-and anything else would come second out of respect for those whose freedoms were lost.

Approaching the intimidating facility, Veiere had approached on his own in order to discourage their numbers being noticed. A covert strike with the Force guiding him, an earpiece kept him in full contact with the rest of the team as Veiere found his way to the base of one of the massive struts keeping the structure from falling into the lake of fire below. If there was to be an access panel anywhere nearby, Veiere planned to find it and infiltrate alike the rest of the team, looking to do as much damage as possible.

​