Skirmish Duel of Faiths [Warlords of the Sith Story Campaign|Episode I]-[Check OOC]

[Darth Voyance]

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When the storm ended there was a fine ring of ruin orbiting the Dark Praxeum. Ships torn asunder; crews sent scattering. The Dark Praxeum was the eye of a spiraling disc of durasteel, ionic discharge and chaotic debris. Darth Voyance released her grip from the pyre, removing her hands and the Force she had controlled to charge it. She turned to Kascalion Giedfield and Vora Kaar . She nodded and spoke, “You may begin your decent. Lord Giedfield.” Voyance removed herself from the other Warlords and walked down the connecting bridge to the exit doors of the Ritual Chamber. Taking lift towards one of the may hangars of the Praexeum’s under-pyramid, Voyance was greeted by Sqisa Kun was standing ahead of a regiment of Sith Battle Chapter Troopers. They were clad in red armor and assembled in a neat formation. When Voyance approached them, Siqsa knelt on one knee and the Chapter Troopers thumped their closed fists on their breastplates in a salute.​

Voyance raised her hand and motioned for Siqsa to rise. Rising the Sith Pure-Blood returned the Sith Twi’lek’s gesture with an acknowledging nod, saying, “We are ready my Master.” Voyance walked past Siqsa and inspected her newly formed Red Sons Battle Chapter. An entire detachment of Sith Pure-Bloods led by a hulking brute who was the only one with his helmet removed. His face burdened with heavy jowls, round cheekbones, and a square jaw. Voyance stood in front of the Red Sons’ Lord Commander. The Sith Pure-Blood did not look to Voyance but beyond her into some respectful middle distance.​

“Commander Zassat,” said Voyance. “You’re men are ready?”​

“Ready and eager, Lady Voyance,” Lord Commander Zassat Rond said, his voice low, growly and textured like gravel being dragged by steel tank tracks.​

“Then you have command of the boarding operations,” Darth Voyance said. Let soldiers be soldiers. They were the best for it. Sith did not need lord over capable professionals like vain and useless aristocrats. A lesson she learned from a former Sith-Imperial Major she had come to command once, a capable soldier – a greatly, capable, soldier – Irveric Tavlar . “Avenge your birthright,” Voyance said continuing, “Gut the ships of their crew and lockdown any systems still surviving the attack.”​

“Copy,” said Zassat.​

Voyance touched the massive arm of Zassat and glanced back to Siqsa with the corner of her eye, “Call in the commodore.”​

The call was sent and all around the Dark Praxeum, in strike groups, ships of the Warlords Armada ripped from hyperspace – guided by the Sith Wayfinders out of the nebula that hid Sepulcher they appeared around the GADF and Sith-Imperial fleets. Some exited just above, some below and some from flanking positions, together they encircled the remaining ships. Red and black colored and with their shield forward maximum the Warlord Battleships executed their pre-determined battle plans as developed from the information taken form the Viper Droid reports. They rushed in, using the momentary ionic storm complications aboard the ships to narrow the space between each ship. As they fired their engines and rushed in – their turbolasers batteries unleashed barrages from their Quad Heavy Turbolasers Cannons, battering the exposed ships with their shields down. From their hangars intelligent Jen'Siqsa Sith Droid Starfighters were unleashed upon the ships – using their advanced targeting and battle analysis systems they targeted the guns and shield generators of the GADF and Sith-Imperial ships.​

Flying beside the battleships were altered Aramadia-Class Thrustships – outfitted with Boarding Harpoons. Using the enclosing bombardment from the Battleships, the Thrustships rammed into the GADF and Sith-Imperial ships. Firing their Boarding Harpoons the superheated armor-piercing tips smashed into the hulls, fusing on a molecular level with the hull’s steel and through into the corridors and compartments inside. The coma gas stored in the harpoon would spew out and engulf any of the crew inside. The harpoons, were then retracted, ripping the hull plates off the victim ships. The new gaping holes would be big enough for the shuttle ships to fly inside and disgorge the Sith Battle Chapter troopers inside, propelled by jetpacks strapped to their sealed armored suits.​

Commodore Karn aboard the Soothsayer was last to arrive. The Soothsayer, the crimson elongated five kilometer wedge exited hyperspace above the GADF ships. It flew over to the command vessel of the GADF Navy – the Ouroboros. Flanked by two thrustships, Darth Voyance and Siqsa Kun along with Zassat and the Red sons travelled by transport shuttle to the command ship. The two thrustships launched their harpoons and the transport shuttle flew into the Ourobos’ hangar. Karn spoke to Darth Voyance as she stepped down the disembarking gangplank ahead of the column of Red Son.​

“I am in position. However, a ship that is unknown to us as just exited hyperspace and is attacking our ships. It’s ID designates itself as the Sedriss,” said Karn.​

Voyance mulled over the news as she marched into the hangar, littered with parked starfighters and still recovering hangar crews and pilots, caught mid-scramble. “Have the outer most battleships screen us. Discover what the mystery ship is. I leave it to you, Commodore,” said Voyance. Karn replied, “Understood.” The Sith Twi’lek continued on her march. Behind her a small BB-unit rolled to her feet and looked up to her, spitting bleeds and whistles. The S1Q5 droid watched Voyance as she looked down to it and said, “Find a port and download the internal-navigations map of this ship. Find the hyperdrive systems and the bridge. Go!” The droid’s top unit that sat on its fat ball body nodded and it rolled away as the Red Sons surged forward led by Zassat to clear the hangar.​

Siqsa came to Voyance’s side and looked to her master, saying, “Where to?”​

“The Command Center,” hissed Darth Voyance.

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TAGS:​

Loske Treicolt Dracken Pryce Romi Jade Darth Kizash Darth Carnifex ​

 

[Eslo Anderson]

(The Music)
Eslo jumps into the Korriban system with his X-Wing, and along with him are 75 people in starships including 3 YT-1300 Freighters, 1 YT-1200 Freighers, 5 Y-Wings and 55 X-wings, 1 Corellian Corvette and transport to escort to the surface; who had finally had enough of the Sith.

They then engaged the forces of the Sith, engaging the fighters and a corvette while the transport carrying troops is escorted by 5 of the X-Wings and was escorted to the surface.

 

[Vora Kaar]

The time of the Sith to steele themselves firmly within the darkside of the force, is at hand. For years it seemed Vora Kaar has attempted to gather as many of those who would call themselves the Sith. Acting in multiple gatherings as a Constant ally to them. For reasons of his own. Gathering strength in his fleet, apprentices, and raw power. Darth Voyance, one of the few surviving Keepers, has come back from the shadows. Once more exposing herself to fight against the Sith Imperials. The Sith who once followed the Former Emperor Carnifex, and has since been passed down to an heir. It was clear that the Sith Empire valued a Dynasty, or a singular family as though they were royalty, over the teachings of the darkness.

Strength, power, emotions, and the darkside prevailed over all.

Passing the title down as a sloppy seconds was not the path of the Sith. No. This was the path of a man who sought to secure power for himself. Much like the mythical Darth Sidious. All for one, with none to take it. This... self serving desire, was one that would hinder any who would come after. This Immortal Lord had sought to be like Emperors of the past. Serving themselves in all things. Not for an Empire. Not for a Family. Not for the Sith.

This singular fact alone made Vora sick. Disgusted at an individual who simply left the throne to kindred. Nepotism at its finest. As much as the Lord of Strength wished to walk up to this new Empress and challenge them to the right of the Empire, Vora was not one to rule an Empire. No, the Empire needed to fall. The past must die. This Stagnate empire weakened all who were allied with them.

Looking over the space that laid before the Lord, standing in the onyx frame presented in front of the window. Overlooking the fleets as they entered and leaved the system. Voyance, and Giedfield offered their strength to generate a storm. This storm wrought its destruction upon the fleets. Many crashing or landing upon the surface of Korriban. One of the many Birthplaces of the Sith. Many times over, the Sith have been born anew upon this planet. And for many more, it will continue to be.

The helmeted figure of Kaar turned to face Voyance. While the Warlords of the Sith, and the Dread Ascendancy were in lead of this operation. Vora and his Order of the Few would provide support to them. As all Sith needed to come together. To seek bringing an end to this Empire. Korriban, would be the foothold against the Sith. A place in which the Warlords could strike from.

Voyance gave the command to begin our descent. While the Lord didn't wish to take "Commands" this was a joint effort, with Voyance leading the way and her apprentice as secondary. A simple nod of the darkened dome was all that Kaar gave to the woman. Turning to his own apprentice, a Lethan Twilek, just at the exit of the bridge.

"Follow, O'child mine."

Without another word, Tash followed.

It took little time to reach the Hangar. Silence the entire way. Only broken by the almost silent footfalls of the apprentice, with the heavy thunderous booms of the Masters. Troopers followed in behind the two. A mix of Sith Acolytes from the Order of the Few, and Voyance's own troopers. Reaching the dropshuttle, All of them filed in. Vora and Tash at the exit, would be the first ones out. A sudden jolt with any last chances to back out well past them. Leaving the safety of the Fleet, and down to the surface.

"Protect the vessel Tash."
"Master."

An acceptance as Tash closed her eyes. Yet began to glow slightly orange as the vessel would be guarded by a shield. Preventing any Anti-air, or other vessels from taking down the dropshuttle. It took a few moments, but a bumpy ride down to the suface of Korriban. Blasters, sabers, and much more were active, and killing in the name of the Sith, and the Galactic Alliance. As the Shuttle landed, Vora looked out to the horizon. Filled with blood and gore of those already killed in crashes, or within the fighting.

"A test of Faith begins today."

Darth Voyance Kascalion Giedfield Darth Carnifex Darth Kizash Romi Jade Dracken Pryce Loske Treicolt Eslo Anderson Ryv Darth Vinaze Darth Interitus Zaavik Perl Ingrid L'lerim Milou Ishkal Mlow Eman'outther Beltran Rarr Xenro Onrai Riyo Milne

 

[Lani Skywalker]

Lani Skywalker jumps into the system with her X-Wing but this time she brings tens of thousands of ships, each differing in size. Some were Capital Ships, some were fighters, some frigates, almost every kind of ship became involved.

Lani dives toward the surface with her X-Wing while the others go and thousands of transports joined her along with their escorts.

 

[Ryv]

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”
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- Nelson Mandela
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New Jedi Order
Armor | Lightsaber
Tags: Darth Vinaze

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"Ryv! Ryv, can you hear me!?"

Pain blossomed throughout the Jedi Knight's entire body. Gloved fingers twitched faintly, the movement enough to send a wave of agony rolling up both his arms to assail his brain. Strange dark spots swam through his vision when he finally worked one of his eyes open. The other refused to part. If not for the scent of iron within the enclosed space, he'd of feared the sudden loss of his sight. A cursory pass with his fingers revealed a thick layer of blood over his right eye. Most of it had already dried over, though small pockets of wet scarlet still remained. He dropped his arm into his lap as his head fell back against the pilot's seat.

"Dammit, Ryv! Answer me!"

"Where is that coming from?" Ryv groaned out, groggily reaching about the cockpit for the source. Eventually, he found the fighter's sticks, alongside the mess of buttons and levers used while in flight. Tracing the familiar layout with his index finger, it only took him another minute to find the blinking red button. He pressed down on it and cleared his throat. "I'm here, I'm here... What the hell are you yelling about?"

"Excuse me?" the voice on the other end sounded insulted. "You idiot, your starfighter crashed somewhere on the planet's surface after that damn space pyramid showed up and disabled all our tech! I'm only just now coming back online. Are you okay? Do you need evac?"

Ryv forced his head up and looked over himself quickly. Aside from the bit of now-dried blood on his glove, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He tugged off the ship's restraints, taking a deep breath as he freed his bruised upper body from its confines—another wave of pain immediately struck. He bit back his complaints and cracked open the cockpit. Cool air hung over the desert planet. The sudden shift from uncomfortable heat to a welcome chill confused the kiffar for but a moment.

"Oh shit, my ship is on fire," he took hold of the hull and threw himself over without wasting another second. His body tumbled into the blood-colored sand beneath him, accompanied by a series of grunts and muffled curses.

".... you hear me?" another question sounded from above the Jedi Knight. Ryv sighed and activated the commlink attached to his hip. He cycled through several channels before stopping on the correct one.

"Yeah, I can hear you," the kiffar worked his way up a nearby boulder while he spoke. "I don't need evac, no. I got a few scrapes and bruises from the crash. Nothing serious, Sparrow."

"Very well," the Sword's handler said. "I'm tracking you now. You're two klicks out from the Temple of Sacrifice. If you can work your way up the cliffside, you should be able to see it from the elevated position."

"Alrighty..." Ryv paused and took a breath. "Anything I should be worried about along the way?"

"Well, aside from the mess going on overhead, falling debris, the aggressive species that call Korriban home, and the dark side itself? Hmm," Sparrow went silent as he worked through what Ryv assumed was a projection of the planet's terrain. "Apparently, you'll be passing by the tomb of Ajunta Pall. I don't know who that is, but whoever he was earned him a big fat WARNING label right on his dossier. Better be careful, kid. I'd hate to drag you back to Coruscant for a third limb replacement surgery."

"I'll be fine. Just help out Pryce and make sure our ships aren't destroyed before it's time to go," he cut the link, returned the communicator to his belt, and took hold of the rocky surface ahead of him. "I hate this planet."

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A hand shot up and over the canyon's edge as Ryv finally finished the climb. He worked his way onto his feet, dusted himself off, and looked westward at Sparrow's earlier suggestion. The Temple of Sacrifice stood well above the horizon. Even from where he stood, he could feel the corruptive power of the nexus that rested within. Hundreds of Jedi died in the planet's taming. He fought with everything to defeat the monsters who concocted such an awful plot, only to fall short and lose his arm in the process.

Faint creaks sounded from his cybernetic as his fingers closed into a fist. He didn't want to go back. Memories awaited his return, ready to strip away what remained of the Jedi Knight who braved that accursed place beside Coren Starchaser.

Even the memory of the abandoned Jedi Master saw Ryv's chest tighten. He ground his teeth together in frustration, unsure of how to push forward. His body felt heavy to him. When he tried to take a step forward, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Facing Korriban the first time took every ounce of strength he could muster. Now he had to do it while his allies fought for their lives above him?

"Argh!"

Ryv screamed out to the rolling desert. His voice echoed through the canyon behind him, bouncing back and forth as it sought an escape. More screams came, each one louder than the last. The first carried his fear out into the world. Next, his rage, then his hatred, and finally, it all swirled together into a singular mass of anxiety. From the moment he was named Sword of the Jedi, Ryv had felt overwhelmed. He never felt ready for what it meant for him. It carried him across years of conflict, never slowing, only growing worse, entire worlds consumed in blood and fire to break the Sith once and for all. This wasn't the life he wanted for himself.

He dropped to his knees and coughed. A small ache settled into his throat from all his screaming, the pain enough of a hint to finally get him to stop. For several minutes he remained right there on his knees, surrounded by a world with only one fate in mind for the Jedi Knight.

"Alright," he pushed back onto his feet and set off. "Enough of that."

​

Sand crunched underneath Ryv's booted feet as he marched up a sloping dune. The earlier chill only worsened the longer he stayed out in the open. Thankful for his jacket, the Jedi Knight was able to ignore the cold for the most part. With enough time, he imagined it would get to a point where his jacket wouldn't be enough. He considered turning back to grab the emergency supplies from his starfighter for a few seconds, only to shrug and turn around to the march. It was much too late for caution to that degree.

"I need to get better at plans."

He looked down the dune from its peak. Though it wasn't the most comfortable trek down, it wasn't any worse than the trip up. The Jedi Knight carefully worked his way down the opposite end, only pausing at the foot of yet another steep climb.

"I hate thi-" his complaints ceased the moment a red hand exploded from the sand and wrapped around Ryv's throat. His eyes widened as he cried out in shock. He felt his feet leave the floor as the creature lifted him from the sands and slammed him back down a split-second later. A pained grunt exploded from his body on impact, the breath forced from his lungs. He rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the abomination's second attempt for his throat. A swift kick slammed into the beast's hip and sent it tumbling onto its opposite side.

Ryv gasped for breath as he got back onto his feet. Resolve flew into his hand, igniting the moment his finger closed around the silvery hilt. He didn't wait for his assailant to find a way back onto its feet. The Jedi leaped atop the creature as it clawed at the sand. He raised the weapon, reversed his grip midway, and drove it downward. His viridescent blade carved through flesh with ease, piercing through the horror's chest and out the other side in the blink of an eye.

It convulsed wildly, it's last moment alive spent trapped in its violent death throes. Ryv stumbled back and fell onto his bottom a few feet away. He massaged his throat with one hand. The other remained on Resolve.

"I'd apologize, but-" another coughing fit interrupted Ryv's sentiment. When it subsided, he wandered over and set a hand atop the creature's head. "Let's see what brought you out into the middle of the desert, huh?"

Memories flashed within the kiffar's mind's eye—recent to boot. He recognized the red sand of Korriban, as well as the chill that permeated the air. Only, it wasn't surrounding him this time, but it came from within him. Much like his most recent kill, other beings crowded around a singular, pale-skinned Sith Lord adorned in dark garments. The lone figure issued a series of commands, each of his words dripped with disgust for the beasts he brought with him.

"Hmm," Ryv's vision returned to normal. He looked back to the mutated Sith Pureblood, his earlier bravado melting away. "Guess I am sorry, huh? Looks like you didn't have much choice in all this."

He stood up and moved off in the direction of Ajunta Pall's tomb. "Looks to me like I'm gonna pay your old boss a visit, dead guy. I'll get you your vengeance, don't even worry about it."

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: The Valley of Kings, Korriban
Objective: Figure out what's going on. Decide who to shoot.
Allies: GA Personnel, Ingrid L'lerim (RP planned)
Enemies: The Sith, both Imperial and new arrivals

• Armor: Katarn Mk. III Light Powered Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot), Incendiary Grenades, Cryo-Ban Grenades

"Understood," Beltran replied, taking on the cool veneer of the Antarian Ranger even as the enemy came down from the skies and demons were raised from the sands in front of him. A certain amount of primal fear lingered in him when he considered these force entities that Ingrid L'lerim had brought forth. The feeling of helplessness as the clown-being had nearly choked the life from him threatened to unnerve him.

He remembered back to Jedi Siegried's lesson, taught what felt like a lifetime ago, on finding peace and he centered himself in the Force. His fear ebbed and it was replaced with cold discipline. With a nod, indicating that the sand demons should follow, Beltran trekked back to the Imperialis. At the top of the opened cargo loading ramp, Dot hovered and tootled and blatted her displeasure.

"Yes, I know." He replied as he guided the demons up the ramp. "But the sand they leave behind can be cleaned up. Right now I could use the extra appendages."

The droid detached one of it's set of arms, placing them on her waist as she continued to berate him. "Fine!" Beltran growled after a moment. "I'll do the cleaning, okay? Can we have this argument later? You know, when there aren't Sith literally raining down on top of us?"

The droid waved it's arms in the universal sign of exasperation and hovered off down toward the cockpit. Looking behind him, he found Ingrid's sand demons simply staring at him, completely indifferent to the exchange that had just taken place. He led them over to a small group of stacked crates and pointed. "These three each contain two shield emitters each. Take them back to the tomb and I'll be along shortly."

The sand demons did as he commanded, each hefting one of the crates and making their way back down the ramp and back toward the tomb where Ingrid L'lerim had remained. Left alone for a moment, Beltran unclasped his helmet and stowed it in his locker. He then proceeded down on of the corridors to the locked armory room and keyed in the code for entry.

The spacious room had once housed then Emperor Palpatine's personal weapons, and now they did the same for Beltran. Several suits of armor hung on racks and dozens of weapons of every type lined the walls. However it wasn't a blaster, nor a sword that Beltran went for. It was a mask. An ancient thing that had once been worn by one of his ancestors, a Jedi Temple Guard.

He put the thing on his face and closed his eyes, remembering the feeling he had had when he'd first encountered it on Crispor. He remembered the vision the Force had granted him that day, and the lesson that it had contained. "Fear is the mind-killer." Beltran murmured to himself as he stepped out of the room and locked the door behind him.

He returned to the cargo bay and descended the ramp, still murmuring the litany. "Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration."

Moving up the hill, Beltran could see that the sand demons had arrived at the tomb's entrance. A pair of Ingrid's wolf-guards had opened the crates and were beginning to set up the Akk dog shield emitters in defensible positions around the opening. Behind the opening, Beltran could still see the faint figure of the clown-thing and he continued. "I must face my fears. I must permit them to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone passed, only I will remain."

When he returned, he faced the clown-demon evenly. No longer would he allow the creature power over him. It seemed to recognize the change in the Ranger and shrank back as he closed on the threshold of the tomb. Nodding to Ingrid, Beltran spoke. "We should hold this position for as long as possible. Only retreat into the tomb as a last resort. Let us greet these newcomers in the way they have chosen to reveal themselves, in blood."

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Armor: X | Lightsaber: X
Allies: Darth Voyance | Vora Kaar | Darth Vinaze | Darth Interitus | Xenro | WotS
Enemies: Ryv | Darth Carnifex | Mlow Eman'outther | Ingrid L'lerim | Beltran Rarr | Riyo Milne | Onrai | Dracken Pryce | Romi Jade | Loske Treicolt | Sith Empire | GA

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The storm had done its work to the fleets surrounding Korriban, roaring and raging like a mythological beast of thunder and lighting and leaving many little more than charred and torn scrap heaps floating in a dead void. Dozens of fighters electrically fried to the point of being inoperable, sent careening down into the red dunes of the hellish world in batches of meteorites. Frigates were stalled in orbit and left at the mercy of the Warlords arriving with the full intent on killing, maiming, and taking what is theirs from the world. With these accomplishments in only a few opening minutes of this new war, the Praxeum had completed the first portion of its entire purpose this day, and the Autarch intended on continuing it immediately.

Yet, it would require power.

Extensive, unlimited power.

And so, as the war began to wage outside in tumultuous fury, the skeletal giant, clad in his violet sarcophagus, fed on the despair, confusion, and rage marinating in the Force like meat, reduced to an incorporeal sludge that filled the veins and gullet of the Sith Lord via imperceivable needles and vials. As it coursed through him, it strengthened his muscles and bones every second and made him feel the beginning slivers of the power he would need today for the coming battles that would most certainly take place in the halls of the dark pyramid. The battles that would kill families and end possible dynasties.

Thus were the battles of the Sith and the battles of the Jedi.

A tale as old as time and one whose brutality buried in remembrance sparked an ancient memory that washed over him, his attention drawn from the feeling of the darkness further perverting his soul. It was one of a war lost to the histories, yet one that still haunted him in the form of a specter. A bloody memory of his fateful fight against his father who doom-loomed somewhere near, beyond his perception. It angered him that he was so close still, yet ironically this anger hastened the sludge’s spreading throughout his being. His hollowed sockets would furrow if possible, but instead they lay static and bearing upon the obelisk before him that sparked the dying remnants of the Maelstrom.

“You may begin your descent, Lord Giedfield.” the hurried voice of Voyance announced. His empty gaze remained locked on the obelisk, but he nodded all the same with a relative indifference to her orders. All the same, he dragged his nails down against the stone work of the central pyre - a sharp sound - as he brought his hand to rest at his side to begin his trek to the command center of the terrible vessel.

"Follow, O'child mine," he then heard Vora Kaar demand of the apprentice who stood nearby, diligent and obedient.

Finally turning his gaze to watch his begrudgingly tolerated compatriots depart the Praxeum for their own individual purposes and goals, Kascalion grunted to himself as he took quick steps towards the lift that would take him to the command center. Entering the lift through hissing doors, the Autarch suddenly beheld once more the phantom of his father, withered yet proud and bearing the open wounds inflicted by his son.

"What are you doing, Kavar?" he asked once more. "Are you no longer a leader among men?"

The Autarch refused to answer, knowing quite well that no matter what he said, the devilish wraith would always find a way to press his agenda upon his son. This silence visibly angered the ghostly father, causing him to take a floating step closer to his son, his wispy eyes locked onto the latter's fleshless visage. Thrice more were the questions repeated, each time angering the son more and more until his empty sockets began to burst with a glowing red of hate.

Fortunately, the hissing doors of the lift slid open and allowed the man to exit with haste into the command center, the apparition of a dead king vanishing from sight. Those in the center greeted the Autarch with due respect, but remained silent upon seeing the anger radiating off of his body. All but one: a man of aged years, yet apparent experience and respect to his masters. "My Lord, another vessel has joined the battle and is attacking our fleet," he said. "Lady Voyance and Siqsa have departed the Praxeum for it. Additionally, the Praxeum's orbital cannons are prepped and ready to fire on your command."

At first, the Autarch only nodded and motioned for the man to return to his station, which he did with a confident haste. And then, with a single guttural word that shook the ear drums of those present, the Autarch demanded that the Dark Praxeum, loathed and reviled for its aura of damnation, fire upon a world of equal reputation. And so it did, its rotating emplacements groaning through the silent vacuum of space as they aimed a trajectory like lithe giants through the chaos the Praxeum had wrought upon the fleets orbiting the planet. Utilizing their incapability of defense and reaction, the vessel fired upon the planet, intent on breaking apart the ground defense enough to get the ship on the world's surface as safely as possible. The rounds - red and screaming - traversed space in seconds, broke through the hot orbit of the Sith Crypt World, and collided with random and widely dispersed locations.

Following this, and with a painful slowness, the pyramid began its deadly descent upon another guttural order of its new captain, capitalizing on the same incapability it had used to attack. The Autarch had to stifle a roar of anticipation and rage, his mind coming back to the task at hand, glad of war was he in those remaining moments.

The Warlords had come indeed, and soon, those on Korriban who would dare oppose them would suffer their pain and wrath.

And the Galaxy would be forever changed.

This he swore.

Spoiler: OOC

Hello Everyone. Apologies for the delay in this post. Not the best, but it's hopefully speeding things back on track. Love what you are all doing thus far. Very good stuff everyone. Keep it up!

Here's what I've done:

• Bombarded Korriban with Orbital Cannons. For those on the planet, react as necessary for your characters and all that.
• Began the descent for Ground Combat with the Dark Praxeum
• Continued the plot with Kas's ghost dad.

 

[Darth Wraith]

(The Music)
Darth Wraith gets hit by one of the lasers and begins a crash landing, thankfully he escapes before the ship could crash, he sees what remains of Korriban, but as the transports that were brought along from an unknown location and some escape pods from the ships in orbit were shot and the people were killed. He lands safely onto the planet's surface, Wraith ignites his lightsaber ready to engage the fools that would dare challenge him, but he calculates his possible attacks.

Then the doors of every transport open to reveal not soldiers but smugglers, pirates, civilians of every kind. To Darth Wraith this will be simple. He blocks each blaster shot, even pulling one guy in the air and slicing him with his lightsaber. He then uses the force to push 43 of them into space and therefore being hit by the lasers that are being fired in Orbit above the planet's surface.
He then attacks one as the rest head into the Valley of the Dark Lords where they think it would be safe, but they know little of the dangers of the Valley, as he had experienced himself. He then lets them go as he senses the presence of his old master, Eslo Anderson in Orbit. He ignores him as he has bigger things to deal with.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

ANS Ouroboros - 3rd Sector Fleet
Deck 223

Major Reyes of the 81st Legion, commanding officer of 207th Bloodfin Battalion served as part of the Ouroboros' onboard security compliment. He wasn't a ground pounder, though he'd seen his fair share of combat in the Botor Campaigns and before that on Kuat with the New Republic before it shattered into a million different pieces. But if he was being honest, he liked it up here in space. It was easy to patrol corridors and Light help anyone who thought it was a smart idea to try and board the Ouroboros. She wasn't the only Startide in the fleet, but by far she was the pride of the Core having fought in almost every major engagement the Alliance had been in since her construction almost five years ago.

Apparently, these idiots, whoever they were hadn't gotten the message.

The corridor he had been patroling shook as harpoons slammed through the hull and latched on tight, destroying three of the battle droids that he had been patrolling with in the process. The harpoons sent up shrapnel and debris sending chips into his armor, one large piece even managing to crack his faceplate. Reyes cursed as the gas began to come and activated his helmet's filtration systems. One of his squad failed to do so in time and fell to the ground.

"Ready!" They all crouched, readying their weapons as Reyes sent out a ship-wide alert. The hiss of the ship's automated metal sealant and the sound of alarms were the only sounds before the cutting started. By now another squad had come up to reinforce their position but when the door of the boarding ship slammed open their position didn't matter. A tide of Red came forth, the elite soldiers cutting both squads down to Reyes and one other.

"We need back up!" he shouted as they sprinted down and around the corner, spinning on their heels and leveling their blasters again and firing down the hallway they had just come from.

​

ANS Ouroboros
Secondary Command Deck

"Admiral, we've been boarded. Hangar Deck 12 is reporting Sith and both Deck 223 and 687 have reported an incursion of marines and Sith warriors." Pryce's brow furrowed in frustration. He'd done as the Jedi had asked. He'd increased patrols and locked down the numerous airlocks to the vessel, but of course, they did bother to use those. They were tearing straight into his hide.

"Do we have eyes?"

"Yes sir," His command panel flashed to life showing the pair of Sith in the hangar cutting down battle droid after battle droid and marine after marine. On another monitor, the 81st was getting battered around Deck 223 but the men and women fighting around Deck 687 seemed to be putting a fair fight, their numbers bolstered by the squad of Halcyon Commandos who happened to be patrolling the area. If they all made it out of this alive he'd have to thank the Diktat for giving him that asset.

"Where are the Jedi?" He asked. His eyes fell on the Halcyon standing beside the blast doors leading out of the command center. He thought her name was Fehen. He didn't know the species, they all looked like monstrous battle droids with all that armor. "Halcyon Fehen, when they get here I'm going to have you assist them," she took a step forward and started to protest, it was her edict from the Diktat to make sure he was safe but Pryce wasn't having any of it.

"If any of us are getting out of here alive it will be because of those two."

Darth Voyance Romi Jade Loske Treicolt

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Valley of the Kings, Korriban
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag: Beltran Rarr

While Beltran went back to his own ship with the demons, Ingrid did not remain idle either, but set out to secure the place. They started bombarding the surface from space around the planet, apparently not really caring where they were shooting, this again proved that it was a third party and not one that came to help someone. While the others were not here but brought back to this place, which Beltran had said, Ingrid also went back to the tomb. Not to the ship, to the tomb.

Luckily inside, there were containers in which the constructs were brought in, they do it temporarily if there is no longer any equipment here that could be used to build a regular barricade so there is nothing left but to improvise. Fortunately, learned this during her training with both armies. Especially at Frost Company, so she took great advantage of it. Took these containers out by telekinesis, where she again use telekinesis to half-bury them, in a situation where a pattern would really be a barricade.

On this ground, to her great sorrow, an actual trench could not really be formed, so she could not carry out this plan. However, obtained wires from her own ship that could be equipped on the cover, though it was a great question of how effective it would be against those who would arrive. Of course, if a shot hits them during the bombing, it really doesn’t matter at all, because they can’t really defend against it.

By the time the demons and Beltran returned the barricade was pretty much ready and had acquired ranged weapons from her own men. The Smoke Demon regained its normal shape, so now Beltran couldn't see it as a clown either. Nodded at the man's words, then looked at where the enemy had to come from.

"And let’s hope we won’t be hit by a single shot. Although it would be best if they accidentally shot their own units. Only the "main characters" are missing…"

 

[Eslo Anderson]

Eslo boards the Ouroboros with his X-Wing sensing the presence of Sith onboard, he ignites his green blade, it's emerald glow lighting the dark corners of the entire ship, he could hear blaster fire nearby and could see the Sith and engages them with fluid attacks, now that he knows 6 of the 7 forms of Lightsaber Combat he could engage them easily.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Allies: WotS| Kascalion Giedfield | Vora Kaar | Darth Interitus | Darth Voyance
Enemies: NJO | TSE | Ryv

​

Korriban was and always had been a world of death. It was wrought by strife and conflict into a planet-wide mausoleum for the greatest kings to ever wield the dark side of the force. The death of the Sith was at hand, soon.

In the corner of the Sith Lords mind remained the presence of a Jedi. His powerful clairvoyance showed him the way as he began to focus. It moved in a hurried pace down maze-like corridors. Lost. But like the shepherd leading his flock, the horrible Sith would extend a helping hand to this wayward soul and commend him to the Void. No more pain, nor misery. Only oblivion.

Vinaze's boots echoed eerily off the dusty stone. The hollow ring bounced through the hallways and forewarned the prey of the sithspawn's imminent arrival. Vinaze passed through the high, vaulted archway that led into the next chamber. The soft hum of the Jedi's emerald blade cut through the dead silence of the tomb. On the opposite side of the chamber from Vinaze stood the young man he had been following. His short brown robes had been caked in blood and sand, his face covered with dirty sweat.

"Are you lost Master Jedi?" he taunted the boy.

"I.. I am not a master. You Sith may have taken my master, but I don't fear you!" the padawan yelled across the room in defiance, clearly choking back his fear.

"No, of course you aren't. But don't you know? The Jedi have won, Korriban is free. And yet you're still down here. Tell me Jedi, why is that?"

"I'm lost."

"Lost?" the Sith gave a dry, creepy chuckle. "All Jedi are lost, boy, but you will never be found."

The Jedi raised his saber gingerly. Vinaze was eager to see how much fight was left in him. As Vinaze raised his own weapon, he could feel the pull of the light side from above. There was another. A stronger Jedi within the tomb. He focused on it's aura in the force.

"Ah, it appears we are not alone. Do you sense it too? There is another Jedi coming, which means we must hurry this up." he said, moving towards the padawan with intent to kill. His blood pumped, his heart raced. Vinaze was not a warrior, but there was a thrill in killing Jedi that even he could not escape. The dark side of the force demanded it from all of it's servants. With an outstretched, emaciated hand, Vinaze gripped the terrified padawan's throat with the force...

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: The Valley of Kings, Korriban
Objective: Figure out what's going on. Decide who to shoot.
Allies: GA Personnel, Ingrid L'lerim (RP planned)
Enemies: The Sith, both Imperial and new arrivals

• Armor: Katarn Mk. III Light Powered Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot), Incendiary Grenades, Cryo-Ban Grenades

Beltran watched from the entrance of the tomb as massive blasts of energy crashed into the sandy ground all over the planet. There was a certain beauty in destruction, he'd always thought. It was the most basic acknowledgment of the universe's most basic law: All things end. Through the Force, Beltran could feel the erasure of presences, Jedi and Sith alike, with each strike. For so many, all things had ended today but life would continue to end for many more before the day was done.

In front of him, Beltran watched as Ingrid's men set up the portable shield barriers. Behind him, he could hear crates scraping against the ground as Ingrid used the Force to fashion them into makeshift barricades.

"And let’s hope we won’t be hit by a single shot." There was no point in worrying after things that couldn't be helped. If one of those blasts hit them head on, then very likely life for them would also end today. If they didn't, then at least Beltran would have the chance to take some of the attackers with him into hell. "Although it would be best if they accidentally shot their own units. Only the "main characters" are missing…"​

The main characters. That was an interesting way to put it, but apt. After all, what was the saying? All the world is a stage? Something like that. "I do hope that they eventually present themselves," He said back to the red-haired woman. "But knowing Sith cowardice as I do, they may well not. They may simply be content to rain down destruction from above, pat themselves on the back and retreat to their swamps to have their minions shower them with praise."​

In the past, Beltran would have included Ingrid L'lerim in such goading words. But she had proven herself to be something other than what he'd originally thought. She had a code. She had honor and she had skill. With her at his side, they would give a good accounting of themselves. ​

Looking up at the sky, Beltran spoke in a whisper. A whisper that would be amplified by his mind toward the Dark Praxeum and those who dwelt aboard it. "Come down here you cowards. Meet me on the field. I want to drown you in your own blood."​

 

[Darth Bellum]

A S C E N S I O N
[ Theme ]
​

During the Battle of Bastion . . .​

​

Chaos and destruction raged across the once grand capital of the Sith Empire, the very seat of which the Sith held dominion over all the systems they held - now reduced to rubble as the former Sith Empire he once fought for and led their armies through countless campaigns, now found itself at the receiving end of his wrath as Kor Vexen led his troops on behalf of the New Imperial Order after having created his pact of treason with the likes of Irveric Tavlar, his former subordinate and Vaulkhar, the bastard son of the Sith Emperor.​

​

The violet blade of the Anzati General's lightsaber cleaved through the fear created by the soldiers he once led as their despair overwhelmed their ability to fight in the face of overwhelming strength and presence, Sith Imperial troops being cut down in his vicious onslaught while any stragglers attempting to flee were frozen in stasis via the Force only to be gunned down by his own troops shortly after.​

​

It had been the culmination of a long plan in the making, to cull the weak Sith of the Empire so that the wolves among them would rise up and rip the blind sheep to bloody shreds. What started as a pact of treason had garnered more than a meager following had started a schism that fractured a large chunk of the Sith Empire, dividing the Non-Force Sensitive that was dirt beneath the Sith's boots.​

​

He had succeeded in finding the wolves among the former Empire he once served, and in doing so sparked a flame that would result in the long war that the New Imperial Order and the Sith Empire would wage in the days to come. He had even foreseen his death on Bastion at the hands of Irveric Tavlar who he had fostered a growing hatred of Sith regardless of affiliation or merit as Operation Kyber Dark was initiated. Even as he felt his life drain from his body after having been pierced by Tavlar, he...had...Ascended. At the peak of the battle, Vexen had found his enlightenment, and thus died the Lord of Assimilation, and in its place rose the Lord of Eternal Conflict. He had consumed the very essence of war and became one with it in his dying breath - and evolved.​

​

H U N G E R
[ Theme ]
​

| Location | Above Korriban
| Purpose | Observe and Direct​

Once more the Galaxy found itself following the shifting tides of conflict - The emergence of a new age of Sith approached on the horizon like an ominous storm as darkness began to coalesce and converge over Korriban. The visage of Darth Bellum's spirit had manifested itself into existence, existing between the planes of the living and dead as his presence was brought forth from the very ether of the Force. The towering spirit stood above all with his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the planet below, along with the battles scattered everywhere as if observing everything through his mind's eye.​

​

Nothing escaped his gaze as his hollow eyes scanned across the void of space, focusing on several individuals of merit in his vision. Of them, were many familiar faces, Sith that had survived the aftermath of Kyber Dark, and some were former members of the Sith Empire. The one thing they all shared in common though, including Bellum's, was a vision of a new age of Sith. The Empire had grown old and decrepit, taking constant losses as the New Imperial Order, Galactic Alliance and other galactic powers began to tear away at the territories that the Sith Empire did little to make use of. After all, what good were wealth and power if it was squandered on peace?​

​

It was no longer a war of attrition, but the survival of one's ideals.​

 

[Romi Jade]

She made a go for the door, but two steps in the door slide open and it wasn't due to picking up on her motion -- it was Loske'.

The two blondes shared a look, shot one over at the medic, before finding each other again. She had a sense of urgent air crowding the space around her and rightfully so...because what just happened. Romi had no clarity so she hoped Loske did. She strolled forward, "Yeah I'm alright..." Her head a shot a tic clockwise, "A ship--"

Then she was overcome with a look -- "Loske..." she sought her with comfort, that look of uneasy provoked Jade to caution as she went to step within her guard, hoping to break her fall should she...

But

After a heartbeat’s pause, she continued. “And..the crew here are not ready for this, they’re good but ––” she was interrupted by a ping on her comms, an urgent relay from Admiral Pryce. The message was to meet, which..made sense given she was a Jedi aboard a significantly Force-related planet, entangled in a Force-generated storm. Pursing her lips and quirking brows in unison, she made an accepting face and relayed her agreement for the offer before turning back to Romi. “–– I’m going to need your help when you’re ready.”

Deftly, the length of her fingers sprawled the surface of her stomach, and were gone before she could think about it anymore; it was all one swift motion.

She clutched the frame of the door and swung out clear into the hall. Double-taking once she caught the face Loske made while backing out of the doorframe. "I--" she wanted to say something but, the uncertainty she felt was her own burden to bare for the moment. The edges of her mouth started to crease and brought forth a forced but reassuring smirk, "I'm fine." She reached out and maternally cradled the woman's arm. "Thanks."

She'd come to see a lot of herself in Loske, and always felt she was crazy strong. Stronger than her.

A beat.

"Let's go," She motioned with her for her to lead the way, and on the way they banked around a corner "This aura of dread i-is giving me a really bad feeling...It's working like smokescreen. Lets be careful."

For most of the jog, she was there, but her mind had drifted for a moment. She was sensing something...

Hmmm...

She shot a quick glance behind them.

-----

Loske Treicolt
Dracken Pryce
Darth Voyance
Darth Sinestruss
Vora Kaar
Darth Kizash

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Valley of the Kings, Korriban
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag: Beltran Rarr

"Not all cowards, the majority I know are not."

Said kindly. Starting with her own late Emperor. The man may not have considered himself that because he founded the Wardens, but regardless of the facts, he was still a Sith. Scherezade was not a coward either. Adrian did and didn’t, but he wasn’t even a soldier and didn’t even consider himself a warrior, he was just a scientist and a civilian. Sure, she knew there were a lot of cowards who were afraid of their lives, but those who were more warrior-oriented were less so. Didn’t like being generalized, understood that this made it easier for people, but it wasn’t accurate.

"You still don’t have a good opinion of them."

Here hit an almost amused tone. Still, she wasn’t amused, it was just a game; turned her full attention to the impending fight, but the enemy still hadn't shown up. She began to think that in the end they really wouldn’t come. Propped the front of her sniper rifle on one of the containers, thus on half a knee she spying at the pyramid ship and its surroundings. For now, still not seeing nothing, she had seen others who were also watching the place incomprehensibly or confused, but nothing more.

But while they waited, there really wasn’t much else to do. Already knew what the other could do. The fight in Voss gave a pretty good picture of this, but she didn't know the man's way of thinking or motivations yet. And this was necessary to know what to expect from him, since they are on one side right now. And, of course, it will be good in the future if they meet again as enemies.

"What motivated you to become a soldier? I already know why you wouldn't be a Jedi, but I don't know why you became a soldier."

 

[Maou]

​

Kaggath Sith Armada
Tuk'ata-Class Battleship - "The Masamune"

This was their moment, no, this was HIS moment. YEARS of planning, lies, murder, and sequestering Sith. Years of having Jedi breathing down his neck and of sucking up to that pompous green fool of a Diktat. Now his plans, his efforts were coming to fruition. The Masamune dropped out of hyperspace alongside the hidden Sith armada just in time to see the massive Startide blow its own nose to bits. He cackled behind his helmet, the sound distorted by the voice changer and annunciators. His robotic gaze fell on one of the communications officers.

"Where is my Admiral?" he bellowed. The Sith officer nodded and checked her data feed carefully before answering.

"My Lord, it seems as if the Agni Kai is just starboard to the formation, just as was originally planned. Hailing him now."

3rd Sector Fleet "Battlegroup Kenobi"
ANS Agni Kai
Moments after the surprise attack

Admiral Satou of the Galactic Alliance unbuckled himself from the harness of his command chair. He'd done so just in case the Agni Kai wasn't far enough away from the main formation to avoid getting zapped by the weapon he had been informed about by the Maou. When his House had been absorbed into the Yokai he'd never thought he would be working with the Sith. Not that he minded, money was money after all and station was station. Oyabun was Oyabun and their word was final. First he needed to eliminate the guards.

From his sleeves he deployed two veshett hidden blasters, turned to max. One of the marines saw it immediately and started to say something and raise his blaster. Too late. Two bolts right in his head, the heat searing through and killing him instantly. The second guard by the door flinched surprised by the sound, as did the rest of the bridge. He got one in the bodyglove portion of his neck, a shot that was meant for his head. He made a sound like an attempt to not to gurgle the boiling liquid in his throat. He spasmed twice against the wall and slumped to the floor. With them out of the way the rest of the bridge remained quiet. Bridge officers weren't permitted to carry weapons here, a safety precaution against a coup. A second later the door leading to the bridge opened and two more guards slumped in followed by three Root agents and a rather tall and bulky marine who, upon removing his helmet, revealed himself to be one of Maou's soldiers from the Sith. A commander, if he recalled correctly, or at least the Sith equivalent. He was a large Botri man, his ursine features fierce and hard with a scar going down and through one white milky eye and black fur.

The slaughter was done in moments, the three Root agents moving in a blur of red and crimson, their unique weapons cutting down the bridge crew. Satou swallowed hard watching the deed but it was done before he could turn to cowardice and avert his gaze. When it was done several more Sith crew entered, all disguised as standard Alliance bridge crew to replace the loyal men and women of the Alliance that had just died.

"My Lord," he heard one of the bridge crew say and then the fearsome image of Maou, clad in his armor reminiscent of ancient Atrisian demons filled the holo.

"Excellent work Admiral Satou. The Warlords of the Sith commend you for your information and cooperation. Your family will be rewarded handsomely. I have need of you here. Release your vessel to my Host." The Botori snorted and shoved Satou out of his chair before tapping a few buttons. There was no asking or politeness here, simply the task.

"The Agni Kai is ours my Lord," the Botori rumbled. The Maou nodded.

"Excellent." The hologram turned to face Admiral Satou, "Please, do not keep me waiting Admiral Satou, we have much to discuss." Satou made his way from the bridge, looking back only once to make a short prayer to the souls he had just damned not only aboard the Agni Kai, but in the rest of the Third Fleet. With a conflicted heart, determined to see this through he turned his back on the Alliance and walked out of the bridge.

 

[Eslo Anderson]

After making it through the Sith he made his way up to the bridge, battling through some Sith Troops along the way. He cut through them like butter, which probably in his mind was not the analogy. When he finally made his way up like, he had his hood on at all times even when he landed. he opened the door to the Bridge with ease as smoke from the blaster fire from outside came into the room.

He could see the Admiral and he did not know what he would do but he would believe that he would fire on him, so he deactivated his Lightsaber and placed it on his belt. He then removed his hood and revealed his face, he was an old man, traumatized by his failure to stop what happened to his student, and now was ready to fight for the Alliance.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Fighters have launched, ma'am."​

​

The monotone voice came from one of the many bridge technicians who languished in the data pits flanking either side of the command walkway running down the center of Sedriss' bridge. She was a Human female with her hair buzzed down to her scalp. Around her head, from one temple to the other and around the back of her head, was a cybernetic implant which was connected to a multitude of cables and wires plugged into the various machinery which coated the data pit's walls.​

​

These individuals had been chosen early on when they were children, their personalities and emotions subdued and stripped away as advanced cybernetics were grafted into their weak mortal flesh. They were almost incapable of independent action, their bodies emaciated and muscled atrophied after years of disuse and neglect.​

​

"Excellent," replied Grand Admiral Carpari Lacyar, "Continue our advance, all weapons free to fire."​

​

​

All around him was chaos.​

​

Ships too closely knit for comfort traded barrage after barrage at point-blank range, tearing each other apart in an orgy of internecine violence. Through his mastery over the Dark Side of the Force, Carnifex was able to maneuver his shuttle through the cascading destruction. Most ships paid him no mind, their attention clearly fixated on the active enemy combatants lined up in their sights, but there were those few who saw a single shuttle slipping by the chaos and decided to try and take their shot.​

​

And while Carnifex was a master of the Dark Side, there were somethings that he could not account for. The shuttle he piloted was too cumbersome for some maneuvers, too large to evade everything. Eventually, the debris of battle wore it down. A piece of starfighter pierced one of the engine blocks, knocking it out of commission and causing the shuttle to decrease in speed and maneuverability. Carnifex knew that he had to find something new and fast, otherwise he'd be at the mercy of the vacuum of space.​

​

Fortunately, there was plenty to choose from.​

​

Angling himself towards the hangar of an Alliance cruiser, Carnifex crash-landed his shuttle on the flight deck. The shuttle skidding along the durasteel deck for over ten meters, kicking up sparks and knocking aside anything caught in its path. When it had at least come to a stop, the hull sizzled and spat with the heat of the sudden and violent maneuver. A trail of bits and pieces marked where it had crashed, small fires breaking out as the overheated scraps of metal combusted. ​

​

About twenty Alliance soldiers were rushing towards the ship, weapons raised, having noticed the clearly Imperial design of the shuttle as it rudely penetrated the magnetic shielding. Whatever was inside was no friend of there's, and they were in no mood to play nice.​

​

Unfortunately for them, neither was Carnifex.​

​

The side of the shuttle split open, a massive sword rushing out from within to spear the nearest Alliance soldier through the chest. Unperturbed by slicing through armor and flesh, the sword whirled around and continued on a devastating path through the soldiers. It cut them down one by one, never pausing and never losing momentum in its grisly harvest. When it had at last finished, the flight deck was slick with a liberal coating of blood and viscera.​

​

Carnifex exited the shuttle, the blade that he controlled with his mind now floating back to hover near him, blood dripping down its blade. The souls of these Alliance soldiers were now trapped within the blade, confined to an eternity of torment as their consciousnesses fed the power of the blade.​

​

He then turned to look towards the corridor leading towards the command bridge of the cruiser, and slowly walked towards it.​

​

(Not on the same ship as Voyance and the others.)​

​

Darth Voyance ​

 

[Ryv]

Cresting the peak of yet another blood-colored dune, Ryv spotted what could only be the entrance to Ajunta Pall's tomb. A massive stone archway revealed a wide set of stairs. Unnatural darkness rested only a few feet from the threshold, entirely blotting out the light from above. Huge chunks of stone littered the ground around the foot of the entry point. Once sealed, whatever dark power waited deep within the tomb had been revealed to the world, freed long before the Jedi Knight even arrived. His knowledge of the planet's history wasn't anything to be proud of, but even the kiffar knew of the ancient secrets hidden away in such burial sites. How long ago did another Sith make-off with the fallen Lord's treasures?

From within the supernatural shadow, another abomination marched out and into the sands proper. It didn't appear to notice the Jedi Knight, though it did appear to be searching for something. It looked ready for a fight. One hand rested on its weapon, a heavy-handed Sith Blade, while the other stuck close to its side. The creature scanned the horizon while it stepped over loose rubble.

Ryv studied the surrounding terrain. A quick look revealed no decent route to approach the wary creature. He could take time and get creative, perhaps utilize the terrain to draw its attention elsewhere. Another fight would increase his risk of being captured or outright killed. Neither of which was on his to-do list for the day.

Before he could put together a proper plan, a surge of power from below the surface stole his concentration. The dark presence dwarfed the creature ahead of Ryv by an incredible margin. What made matters worse was the presence of another Jedi not far from the disturbance.

"Dammit," Ryv groaned. He hopped over the sandy peak and slid down the dune's opposite side, caution thrown to the wind. Resolve surged back to life within his right hand. A familiar warmth spread throughout his body, starting from the lightsaber itself, working up his right limb to soon encapsulate the entirety of his form. He could better make out the abomination's every movement, the effects of the lightsaber's Valor heightening the Jedi Knight's speed and perception. Even as it drew the corrupted blade up and over its shoulder, Ryv couldn't be bothered to care. Someone else needed him. For all the wrong done to it, this poor creature was just another obstacle to be torn down. In life, it was broken, forced to serve a malignant being. In death, it would be free.

It charged the Jedi Knight in hopes of overwhelming Ryv before he could regain his balance. The kiffar found no trouble in finding his footing. He straightened and moved to meet the creature well before it had cleared the distance. It raised its blade and struck out in an attempt to cleave the Jedi in two. Ryv quick-stepped to the opposite side of the once-Sith Pureblood, his lightsaber flashing out in a sweeping arch.

He didn't even bother to turn back as the creature fell to its knees, its head rolling several feet away. The explosion of fear coursing up from the tunnel ahead of him had stolen Ryv's attention away entirely. He took to the stairs three at a time, half stumbling, half running down them at full speed. Thanks to his blade's effect, he managed to stay on his feet throughout the mad dash. He hit the bottom and sprinted down the sandy corridors without slowing. A cursory probe through the great empyrean revealed the younger Jedi's distinct lack of power. He couldn't hope to stand against a Lord of the Sith on Korriban.

Turning the last corner separating Ryv from the others, he arrived to see the young Jedi grasping at his throat. Ryv dashed madly at the Sith Lord. The kiffar approached the pale-skinned horror from behind, leaping up and over him in one fell swoop. As he soared overhead, he once more struck out with his verdant blade, aiming to slice Vinaze's head in two.

Ryv landed on the opposite side of his arrival. Now standing between the two, he brandished his saber and sneered.

"Surrender or die, Sith. I promise you, you won't get another chance like this from me again."

Darth Vinaze ​