Dominion Ezekial Saw the Wheel | SO Dominion of Vestar/Resu

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Wolfsbane | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: Oleander Webb | Evor

The wolf could not recall the last time Empyrean had called many of the elite and would be leaders of the Sith together in one room. Names had appeared on a list which had not been seen in some time whereas others were names Gerwald had become more recently familiar with. He could not say this was a wise idea, but he could not say it was illogical either. They were pushing for unification. Gerwald had pushed for it.

He had offered himself to take Ophidia’s seat. It made sense, at least to the wolf. Why would Empyrean want anyone other than someone loyal to him, and why not the wrath which had operated seemingly independent from the Emperor the past year. Gerwald felt an urgency to attend the meeting. Whatever would be decided there would impact him. While he did not hold worlds or titles among the Sith Order, his influence was as such that many knew him.

The lupine also wished to ensure the spaceports found their loyalty directed toward the Sith, specifically the emperor. Unification was one thing, controlling the economy was another. Without a formalized government on the planet, the space ports were free to govern themselves. Those days were over. Some would willingly hand over the right to rule themselves for larger profits and greater traffic. Others would cling to their ego and need for misguided independence. They would need a measure of persuasion.

Gerwald could ensure both.

No one could replace him at the Assembly, but his terror could be felt at the space ports. His shadow Oleander Webb had always been able to reach where he could not. Evor would accompany him and show that Gerwald’s reach far extended those of his humble beginnings. Gerwald’s Shadow and his Reach. The name had a ring to it. Perhaps if they worked well together it would become a more fixed thought. For now the wolf let it pass.

<<< “Mercy for the willing. Death for the defiant.” >>>

The lupine did not need to explain himself any further. His orders were short, and his expectations were clear. If Oleander were hungry, this would provide him an opportunity to feed in service to the Sith Order. It was a promise Gerwald had made. Oleander would never be without a meal provided he served dutifully. Evor would know to let him feed if it came to it.

His attention turned to the guests as they arrived. Darth Metus walked in first. A nod was offered to the man as his imposing presence could be felt shifting the atmosphere. It had been a few years since they had seen each other, but it did not diminish the joy of seeing a familiar face. Alina Tremiru was one of the faces which had been newer to the wolf. She was sangir. Gerwald did not need to know much else about her in that sense. The woman was also attached to someone Srina Talon considered to be close.

Another had all eyes on him from the moment he entered the room. Darth Carnifex was a name synonymous with the Sith. It seemed several were arriving who could lend their weight toward something, but what end would it fulfill? Gerwald had known what Carnifex and Metus and Empyrean had thought of each other in days past. Should they all three agree on anything it would be a miracle. No one had ever suggested unification would be anything but.

Blade Ice arrived. Gerwald had not know him well, but perhaps that would change. Darth Caedes and his entourage appeared as well. The tree Madrona A’Mia was with him. She was curious creature, and the wolf wanted to know her. It was not often Gerwald came into contact with sentient trees, but the beast within him felt instantly drawn to her. They were both something born of nature yet they defied its laws. It would mean some kind of common ground for an alliance at the least.

Finally Gerwald turned his mind and focus to Emperor himself, Darth Empyrean . He took his place behind and to the right of him. It would all but confirm his loyalties, but if unification were to take place, then some sense of altruism needed to shine forward. It was a political statement as much as it was one of truth. Gerwald Lechner was an Eternalist, but beyond that, Gerwald Lechner served the Sith Order.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

It had been a long time since Alina had last fought in a war. She was a veteran of the Imperial conflict. She had been there the day the Empire fell, fought to the last before she, like so many others, had to flee. She smiled. No matter who they targeted first, they were going to kill all their foes this time. Bring the Galaxy to heel. Then, and only then, could she turn her eyes inward. But a fight was a fight.

And she long relished the fight.

Darth Empyrean | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Caedes | Madrona A’Mia | Blade Ice | Darth Metus

 

[Oleander Webb]

Objective II: The Second Tide
EQUIPPED: X | X | X | X
TAG: Gerwald Lechner | Evor

<<<"How defiant are we talking?">>>

The ravenous bite that normally pervaded Oleander's voice, especially in more recent times, was more tame than the usual. When sense returned to him, so did his humor (What he thought was humor, at least. He could not account for the taste of others.). An earlier snack helped, too, though that was a detail that didn't need discussing.

The Shadow cast a glance at Evor , curious as always. A fresh return to civilization meant the Anzat was very much out of the loop in terms of movers and shakers. He was a solitary creature by nature, playing nice almost always by command over actual interest. How this one had come to be known as Gerwald's Reach was a question Oleander was intent on finding an answer to.

But they had a job to tend to, sleuthing couldn't take the forefront just yet. Oleander's gaze shifted to the spaceport with a hint of distaste. Spreading terror was the easy part, ensuring true loyalty would be a challenge, one he was happy wasn't their primary objective. Turning once more to his temporary accomplice, he posed a new question.

"What do you want to hit first?"

 

[Darth Kentarch]

​

OBJECTIVE 1: A New World Order
Jutrand, 'The Guilded Guile'

The club's music throbbed like a persistent headache, a steady beat that seemed to keep time with the pulsing neon lights. Patrons swayed and bobbed, lost in their own worlds, trying to drown out the reality of the harsh world outside. Kentarch's eyes, however, were trained on the Twi'lek dancer whose lithe form twisted and turned with the music, her movements painting trails of seduction in the smoky air.

As the song reached its crescendo and then faded into the next, the dancer descended from the elevated platform, her skin shimmering with a sheen of sweat and the iridescence of the club's chaotic lighting. Kentarch approached, his presence parting the sea of inebriation with the ease of a blade through silk.

"You danced while death took a seat," he intoned, his voice cutting through the cacophony. "Did you witness the quiet departure of the loyalist's soul?"

The Twi'lek's eyes held a wariness as she regarded Kentarch, her demeanor a mix of caution and intrigue. "Death is a frequent visitor here," she said, her voice a husky melody. "But it usually comes with more noise."

Kentarch's gaze didn't waver. "This death was silent, and so it speaks louder than the rest. Tell me what you saw."

She hesitated, then sighed, a slender hand brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "There was a man, a regular, always kept to himself. He spoke with the aristocrat, handed him a drink. There was nothing unusual, nothing... until the loyalist slumped over, his life seeping away."

"A regular," Kentarch repeated, the word hanging between them like a promise of pain for someone. "Describe him."

"He's a human, scar along his jaw, dressed in the gray of the city's fog. He hasn't been back since he gave the man that drink," she divulged, the twin tails of her species curling with a tension that betrayed her nervousness.

Kentarch gave a curt nod, the information a piece of the puzzle now lodged in his mind. "Keep your eyes wide, dancer. Death may yet dance again in this hall."

Turning on his heel, he left her to her stage and made his way to the club owner's domain, a small, cluttered office that reeked of cheap cologne and cheaper liquor. The owner, a rotund human with a balding pate and eyes too shifty to trust, sat behind a desk piled with flimsiplast sheets and empty bottles.

Kentarch didn't bother with pleasantries. "An aristocrat died in your club. Talk."

The owner's mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for water. "I... I run a clean place, I swear. The Sith don't usually come down here. We don't want trouble."

"Yet trouble found you," Kentarch said coldly. "The Twi'lek mentioned a regular, a man with a scar. Who is he?"

"He's just a low-level courier," the owner stammered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Goes by the name of Jakkar. Doesn't work for anyone too important, just runs packages from the upper levels to the lower, trying to keep under the radar."

"Where can I find Jakkar?" Kentarch demanded, the Force emanating from him in waves that made the air in the cramped office feel heavy.

"I don't know, I swear! He just comes and goes. But he's got a place, somewhere in the factory district, where the machines drown out everything else," the owner blurted out, desperate to be rid of the dark presence that had invaded his space.

With the name and location of Jakkar, Kentarch had his lead. Without another word, he left the owner to his sweat and fears, stepping back into the club where the beat still pounded and the dance went on, ignorant of the shadow of the Sith that had passed through. Now, to the factory district, to find the courier who had delivered death to an aristocrat and perhaps, unwittingly, to himself.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective I - A New World Order
Tags: Darth Empyrean Darth Carnifex Darth Caedes Darth Strosius Gerwald Lechner

Until the assembly of the Order was called, the Lady of Secrets found herself wandering around the collection of artifacts the Emperor had on display. Some were more interesting to her than others, particularly the Grimoire. In her younger years, she would have looked upon it with a covetous jealousy, fueled by her desire to expand her own collection of artifacts from past dark siders. She had succeeded in that regard and more, and now it was merely an academic curiosity than anything else. Her views of the Sith and their connections to the past had evolved over the years, and while her respect for the past and the great Lords and Ladies remained, it was tempered by her desire to see the Sith grow, to evolve, to surpass.

She had arrived with little fanfare and no entourage to the Assembly. She had always felt it beneath her to flaunt and parade her following and power when her reputation and the knowledge of what she controlled and stood for preceded her.

When the Emperor called the Assembly to order, she would take her place in the pod reserved for Ziost and the discussion began. There were faces she recognized and some she didn't, although she noted a current lack of any delegation from the Covenant among the members of the Order present. Perhaps a late arrival?

She was little surprised that the hammer of the Order would fall on the Rimward Trade League as it was closest to their main region of influence and was prime pickings. Additionally, they had pricked their hide before when they were starting to expand. Only right that showed them a true display of power.

Still there was a topic she would like to broach.

"What of those who you already saw fit to elevate to the Dark Council, my Emperor? And what plans shall be laid forth to modernize our forces and advance continued research and development?"

She left unsaid other parts of her mandate she had been given by Empyrean. The research on Elrood was quickly turning fascinating and she wanted to expand operations there and for her sphere.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

​

OBJECTIVE 1: A New World Order
Jutrand, 'The Guilded Guile'

The factory district of Jutrand was a stark contrast to the vibrant cacophony of "The Gilded Guile." Here, the rhythmic pounding of machinery replaced the pulsing beats of club music, and the air was tinged with the scent of oil and metal, not the heady mix of sweat and spilled drinks. The perpetual fog that hung over the area seemed to mute the world, turning it into a monochrome tableau befitting the somber thoughts occupying Kentarch's mind. The factory district's grimy streets were eerily quiet save for the muffled din of industry. Steam hissed from vents, and the few workers that shuffled by were too wrapped in their own concerns to notice the imposing figure of Kentarch as he made his way to the location provided by the club owner.

The address the club owner gave him led to a nondescript building, its facade as worn and tired as the machines it housed. It was a place of ghosts, of lives spent in the service of production, the workers nothing more than cogs themselves. Kentarch could sense the presence of the Force, faint but undeniable, a trail left by Jakkar.

He stood before the structure, his silhouette casting a long shadow in the artificial light of the district. The Force whispered of caution, of hidden eyes that watched his every move. Kentarch was well aware that the game he played was one of predator and prey, but in this district, amidst the iron and steel, roles could change in the blink of an eye.

With the patience of a hunter, Kentarch prepared to enter the building, each step taking him deeper into the web of intrigue that the death of the aristocrat had unveiled. The Twi'lek dancer's information had led him here, and now it was time to uncover the secrets that Jakkar held — secrets that would unravel the mystery and quench the thirst for retribution that the Sith Empire demanded.

 

[Darth Fury]

Objective III: Moross Remains
Resu, Bridge of the Stellar Fury

Darth Fury's naval battlegroup descended on the system like tendrils from the dark of space. Hundreds of starfighters were deployed and assigned patrol routes around the most high priority moons of the gas giant while others still remained to protect their motherships. The Sith Lords second-in-command, Admiral Haskin, relayed orders for various ships to break off and converge on their various targets. Within hours, multiple moons would be under the sway and protection of the newly arrived Sith fleet.

Once the mining complexes were under control and their Legionaries deployed the flagship, Stellar Fury, would approach the main massive mining factory in orbit of Resu where machines mine the liquid metallic hydrogen for technological use, brought from the various mining stations around the hundreds of moons. It was all mostly automated which saved Fury a lot of time and resources in trying to get this place up to standard before any others thought of trying their luck at this objective.

Even now, his transport ships would be en-route and nearing the system with the material and manpower needed to begin 'colonization'. The few stragglers in this system; pirates, exiles and indie miners trying to strike gold would soon be chased away by his patrolling warships. Soon, this place would be under the sway of the new Sith Empire. Darth Fury could not help but smile to himself as his underlings went to work, there was something soothing about gazing at a new conquest from the bridge of a mighty war ship knowing it would soon be yours.

Woe to anyone to try and change those plans.

​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

​

OBJECTIVE 1: A New World Order
Jutrand, Factory District


The entrance to the building loomed before Darth Kentarch, a gaping maw of neglect that stood in stark contrast to the precision and austerity of the Sith temples and academies. He stepped through the threshold, a whisper of movement that seemed almost to blend with the shadows cast by the flickering lights within.

The interior was a cavernous expanse of disuse. Machinery, once the lifeblood of industry here, lay dormant, their hulks casting strange, monstrous silhouettes in the half-light. The musty air tasted of rust and abandonment, and the silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional drip of water echoing through the void.

Kentarch's senses were acute, every nerve attuned to the possibility of danger. The Force thrummed around him, guiding him deeper into the belly of the factory. His boots made no sound upon the grit-covered floor, his presence as elusive as the breeze that sometimes found its way through the broken panes of the high windows.

Above, the skeletal remains of walkways and catwalks crisscrossed the space, a maze that once teemed with workers now a ghost of its former self. Kentarch's eyes scanned every shadow, every possible ambush point. He knew well the ways of the Sith; confrontation was rarely straightforward and often came from where one least expected it.

There was a feeling in the air, a sense of expectation, as if the building itself held its breath. Kentarch could feel the faint echoes of the Force, residues of fear and desperation clinging to the walls like the industrial grime. It was here that the courier named Jakkar had sought refuge, here where the last vestiges of the Tsis'Kaar hoped to remain hidden.

Kentarch paused, centering himself in the Force, allowing its currents to wash over him, to guide his hand and his blade should the need arise. His hand rested on the hilt of his lightsaber, the weapon's dormant power a comfort and a warning.

Then, from the shadows, a figure detached itself from the darkness. A human, scarred and wary, with eyes that spoke of too many secrets and too much loss. Jakkar, the courier, the link in the chain that had led to the death of a loyalist in the filthy corner of a club.

"You come with questions, Sith," Jakkar called out, his voice rough like the industrial metal that surrounded them. "But I have no answers for you."

Kentarch's reply was a low growl of challenge. "You will provide what I seek, one way or another."

 

[Blade Ice]

OBJECTIVE 1: A New World Order
Tags: Open

---

The guard grumbled something under his breath, seeing Blade had no weapons noticeable on him. “This is for those that rule over worlds and their invited guests. You hardly look like a king or a ruler of anything.” The guard stared Blade hard in the eyes as he questioned his legitimacy to even be present at this gathering. Blade was a guest of no one, he had no friends left among the sith at least not of this order or who claimed to be apart of it. As for his claim to worlds Blade again had none not anymore at least, he had once been Governor of Ziost temporarily stepping in for ally, and long before that a tribal leader on Zonju V before his brothers usurped him.

“I am a ruler of no lands and no man, accept myself. Those in the past that have followed me have done so of their own free will.” The guard looked at Blade strangely, the answer unacceptable. The guard was about to speak again and deny him entry, but Blade stopped him by speaking once more. “I however come today as representative of Rhand. On behalf of Darth Sokar.” That name though not that commonly used to refer to the person in question was title know to be held by the Mad Witch of Rhand and Blade’s Daughter Tegan Starfall a leader within the former Brotherhood of the Maw.

The guard relented with a deep heavy sigh. “Fine. We will be keeping an eye on you.” Blade just nodded and gave the man his signature cocky smile. As Blade passed by the guard who stepped aside, he watched him motion to another guard to keep tabs on him. Blade entered just catching the end of the speech given by Darth Empyrean . He took in the faces of those who gathered in the room, most of which he had never met.

Darth Metus who had led the once proud Confederacy, Blade only knew of by reputation and the fact his petulant granddaughter Cord Starfall spoke of on a couple of occasions. Darth Carnifex someone most of the Galaxy had heard of, Blade had heard rumors of who trained him and who he had associated with. If those rumors were true then Blade knew them, way back when they were still fledglings to the sith.

As he took in the sights and the people, there were others among them, he had heard of but didn’t know a lot about, but a scent crossed his nose and under his breath he muttered. “Lupine….” His eyes scanned some more and landed on Gerwald Lechner . He held back snarling aloud; Blade long had a distaste for their kind that harkened back to the days of his training under Vega Van-Derveld. Though a few like Ket Van-Derveld and Firenne Van-Derveld had earned his respect.

Blade then made his way to an empty seat in the back of the assembly.

 

[Diodoros]

Location: Vestar
Objective: 2
Tag: Annika Starfire

Diodoros’s body perked up some as he was addressed. Turning some to face her. Giving the small girl a curious look. When she asked if he thought there was anyone else still alive. He just gave her a nonchalant shrug, but winced a little from the pain that still radiated from his back. “I’d imagine there’s still others around, likely scared off now and trying to escape the situation.”

He wondered who she was for a moment, briefly wondering if she might be aligned with the people here. But that idea didn’t hold up as she questioned one of the dying men on the floor. Diodoros raised an eyebrow as she seemingly began to brand him with just a touch. Either she had some sneaky gadget, or she might be some sort of Sith.

When she was done she seemed to suggest that he kill the wounded man here and now. Maybe to tie up a loose end, put them out of their misery, or just for fun. “Hmm, I guess so, although if they live and want revenge… I’d gladly accept the challenge.” The Golden Man explained to her, not worrying about leaving behind future problems for himself. But there were more opponents from the sound of it.

Diodoros casually raised his leg over the dying man before harshly stomping it down on them. Ending their life right then and there as the floor cracked beneath their body. Stepping back he turned away from the corpse and the young girl to continue clearing through more of the building to see the kind of stuff their ‘bosses’ were selling. He spoke over his shoulder to Annika. “You wanna tag along?” He still wasn’t sure why she was here, if it was because of him, or something else. But he figured he would offer her the choice to follow along. Despite walking into more danger, he still didn’t have any weapon with him. ​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

​

OBJECTIVE 1: A New World Order
Jutrand, Factory District


Darth Kentarch advanced, his form a silhouette of inexorable fate moving towards Jakkar. The courier, aware of the futility of fleeing from a Sith Lord, stood his ground, though his eyes betrayed the primal instinct to run.

The Sith Lord was upon him in a moment, his hand shooting out with the swiftness of a raptor. The Force surged, enveloping Jakkar in a grip tighter than any vice. Kentarch lifted him effortlessly, Jakkar's feet dangling, scrabbling at the air for purchase.

"I do not wish to spill more blood without necessity," Kentarch's voice was low, a rumble of controlled power. "But make no mistake, I will have my answers."

Jakkar, suspended in the grasp of the Force, felt the pressure building around him, the invisible noose that threatened to snuff out his life. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his voice came out in a strangled gasp, "What... what do you want to know?"

"Start with the aristocrat at 'The Gilded Guile.' Why was he targeted?" Kentarch's demand was like a blade poised at Jakkar's throat.

"He... he was no mere loyalist," Jakkar wheezed, trying to draw breath against the invisible constriction. "He was digging, looking into Tsis'Kaar affairs that were... that were supposed to stay buried."

Kentarch's expression remained impassive, but he loosened his telekinetic hold just enough for Jakkar to speak more freely.

"Go on," Kentarch prompted, a tinge of curiosity underlying his commanding tone.

"The man had information, documents that could expose... that could weaken us further. We couldn't allow that. It was... a necessary evil," Jakkar admitted, his eyes darting away from the unyielding gaze of the Sith.

"And who gave the order for this 'necessary evil'?" Kentarch's voice was now a whisper, yet it carried the weight of a storm.

"It came from high up, beyond the rank and file. That's all I know, I swear!" Jakkar pleaded, his voice trembling as he spoke of his superiors.

Kentarch considered this, his mind working through the implications. High-ranking members of the Tsis'Kaar are still at large, still orchestrating moves in this shadow war. This was a lead, albeit a threadbare one.

He set Jakkar down with a deliberate gentleness that contrasted with the violence of his initial approach. "You've done well to tell me this, Jakkar. Your cooperation is... appreciated. I will contact you again when I need answers."

Jakkar crumpled to the floor, ragged breaths heaving his chest as he looked up at the towering figure of Darth Kentarch. He had survived, but the look in Kentarch's eyes told him that his life hung on the balance of further usefulness.

 

[Annika Starfire]

Location: Vestat
Objective: Stalk - Objective 2
Tags: Diodoros
Wearing: this

Annika couldn't help wince a little at the level of violence on display when the tall man stomped down and cracked the man's skull, ending his life in an instant. She was Still getting used to all this and she might have shot him if it were her, but the job was done and she internally shrugged to herself.

"Sure, I'll come in. Your announcement seemed like you were going to take everything? Are you after anything in particular?" she asked as they walked in through the threshold. An eye stalk greeter droid stuck, asked for ID, but on noticing the scene, quickly retreated back into its casing. The door before them was now unguarded, but locked. This was the second place Annika had broken into in as many weeks but she was becoming bolder. She aimed her blaster pistol at the locking mechanism and fired three times, the failsafe mechanism kicked in and the door swished open. "I'm Annika by the way, what can I call you?" she asked before they went into the bar to investigate.

There was little inside the entryway, the guards had run out to confront them, and the patrons had run for cover. It was quite nicely decorated for the class of establishment that the exterior portrayed. The teen went behind the security desk and had a look at the various screens. There were armed people crouched behind upturned tables waiting for them. In another room there was people still partying and drinking as if nothing was happening down below. "We're going to get jumped the moment we open that door." she said, pointing at the door that led into the main area. "I'd go in first but I'm still learning to use my lightsaber, blocking most of the shots isn't going to cut it." she laughed and picked up a half emptied pack of cigarra from the counter, sliding it into her pocket. They were a good brand, it was a shame to waste them.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

A'MIA

Objective I: A New World Order

Of the three notable figures in attendance from the holy world of Korriban, the Neti was surely the least likely to speak. From a humble, generally unknown background and with little in the way of her own reputation for power, the acolyte was surely in attendance to learn from her betters. Nevertheless it was A'Mia who stepped forward to stand at the center of the pod, ready to speak on behalf of her adopted home-world.

When there was a suitable lapse in pronouncements and discussion, the tall verdant woman spoke up. Her voice was bright and her tone was suitably respectful.

"Korriban has answered the call. We are present to express support of a unified Sith Order and offer proof of that support in two key ways:

Kor'ethyr Academy has been taking students in for some months now and its Grand Opening is nigh upon us. We undertake the education of an entirely new generation of Sith, the next generation which will domino into many more. Other such efforts are being made as well, by Alina Tremiru for instance on Dromund Kaas.

In addition to this vast workload, Korriban readies for war. We are prepared to defend the growth and prosperity of our culture throughout the galaxy, and we are prepared to strike out against those who threaten that growth and prosperity."

Elmindra Xitaar // Darth Caedes
Darth Empyrean

 

[Diodoros]

Location: Vestar
Objective: 2
Tag: Annika Starfire

Hearing her question about if he was looking for anything in particular he would give a slight nod. “Well I’d really enjoy finding weapons and similar hardware. Stuff to aid in my mission.” Diodoros explained somewhat vaguely, although she likely knew what it was for. He watched as she rather quickly busted through the door, a slight smirk formed on his face. “A pleasure to meet you Miss Annika, my friends call me Dio, and you can too.”

As he walked with the young girl further into the establishment he watched as she moved over to view screens that displayed what lay ahead for them. She spoke of a defensive ambush set up just beyond where they were. Stepping over he checked the screen himself. Which offered a lot of helpful information. “We'll ignore the party goers, I’m just interested in getting to where their storage is.” Diodoros moved closer to the door, knowing that just beyond it was a team of armed individuals. Noting how she mentioned having a lightsaber. Confirming his suspicion of her role as a Sith.

“Shock and awe is my typical MO. I’ll draw their attention. You can take advantage of the chaos. Plus they're probably expecting me, not you.” He said while catching the sight of her grabbing some cigarettes. So she was a smoker as well? Seemed they had at least one thing in common. Finally Diodoros grabbed the door handle and braced himself against the door itself. Taking a deep breath he leaned back from it some before slamming his entire body against it. Ripping it off the hinges and from its frame. Using it as an improvised shield as he rushed into the room getting their attention as he rammed one man into a wall. Although not a Sith himself, Diodoros had the fearless ferocity of one of their infamous juggernauts. Quickly he turned his attention to another man shooting at him before violently tossing the busted door at them. He was doing exactly what he said to Annika, grabbing all of their attention. Like people stuck in a zoo enclosure with a raging rancor.​

 

[Annika Starfire]

Location: Vestat
Objective: Stalk - Objective 2
Tags: Diodoros
Wearing: this

"Shock and awe it is then." she smiled with a combination of anxiety and excitement. She reached to the small of her back and grabbed her lightsaber, her heart raced, this would be the first time she had used it outside of training. Luckily for her, Sith training was brutal and dangerous, so even in her novice state, she was learning fast.

The teen waited for the huge man to smash through the door like some kind of battering ram before following him in. As expected blasters went off and in the commotion. Was able to slip on to one side and be largely unmolested by the defenders. It was mere seconds before they spotted the girl, but by this time she had crossed their killing zone and was upon them. She activated her blade and its purple beam of plasma illuminated the nearest foe. She swung the blade, removing the first assailant's blaster arm at the wrist, the man dropped, screaming at the intense agony of having his hands removed. Annika followed up and moved, leaving the man to his agony and assaulting his compatriot. She nearly dropped her blade as a blaster bolt winged the back of her hand, but the weapon was held firm and it passed effortlessly through the chest of the attacker. She came close to him as the purple beam shone out of his back, close enough to watch the light go out in his eye. She felt him die.... but somehow she didn't hate it.

She looked over at Diodoros to see how he was doing, not that she was concerned. The guards on the other hand looked like they might lose the will to fight very quickly, the combination of blade and brawn was more than they were paid for. Annika felt something and she lifted her empty hand, opening it and seeing the out of the corner of her eye, and additional assailant slamming backwards into the wall. This was a sense of power and it was intoxicating.

 

[Darth Fury]

Objective III: Moross Remains
Resu Station

Darth Fury had his eyes locked onto the big space station before him. This was the hub of Resu's control and the center of coordination for the massive mining network around the gas giant and its many moons. Control over this would guarantee the foundry and outlying mining stations under his influence. He would be able to better manage and see what stations needed maintenance and turn this place into his command center.

The station itself was large. It hosted numerous amounts of hangar bays, docking ports, repair bays, command center, a foundry, multiple cargo docks, somewhere to grow crops for long term residents, a cantina, armory and security office and a whole wing dedicated to quarters for staff, workforce and guest. It would be the perfect base of operations for he and his fleet.

The first troop transports departed from his flagship with he among the lead ship. Alongside him were a platoon of Legionaires ready to do battle with whatever defenses the station could muster up. Which would hardly be any. He expected to find more scavengers than true miners and their supervisors. The place had remained lawless for awhile. But the Sith were here to bring order.

As the transport touched down, the Legionaires poured from the ramp and secured the LZ as more transports landed within their hangar. More of the same would be happening across the station as his full strength Legion took control of the massive complex. Darth Fury strode through his soldiers formation and was approached by a fearful overweight middle aged man holding his arms up in comical fashion.

"Please, my lord! We surrender, there is no need for all of this..." The man glanced around his hangar as it was claimed by its newly arrived law enforcement. "We only have meager security and are a simple mining team. We don't even operate the majority of it's mining stations...we figured once the original owners had left we might stake a claim is all. We apologize for this grave error."

Darth Fury gazed over the man with nothing less than disgust. The weakness and fear was pouring off of him in waves. It was almost as bad as standing within a garbage dump. "Where are your foremans? The folk who actually know how to run this operation?"

The temporary owner of the station gulped and hastily pointed behind him. "I-I-in the command center, my l-lord. We gathered once we detected your fleet. Ple-" That was the only words he needed to hear. With a concentrated flick of his wrist, Darth Fury broke his neck and left the body to ragdoll to the floor. Lifeless.

He turned to his Legion Commander as they made their way towards the center of the station.

"Kill anyone who resist. Spare the workforce. We shall have need of them yet."

​

 

[Dresden]

Objective: The Second Tide

Body & Soul
​

The Prince moved among them, those that did the bidding of their betters. Flesh that no longer belonged to the young man carried onward, relentless in its pursuit of sustenance; bones and all, eating them whole. There was no grandiose introduction necessary for when he arrived, there was no pride nor real reason linked to his frenzy. This was about filling a deep void that gnawed at Dresden's gut, writhing inside - sitting just behind his very teeth.

A passenger - a thief.

Something that craved the very sweat that lingered on the brow of men and all alike, yet even sweeter was the skin they inhabit. A delicacy bountiful in number, right before his very eyes. Wide was the maw that adorned his head like a profane crown, the horrible screech of metal would be the last thing prey would hear before being consumed.

In this moment was a bliss shared mutually between flesh and spirit, the tearing of sinew and muscle brought about a euphoria of unfathomable scale. Together they relish the sensation of a blade as the very hand of Dresden swung true, butchering all they deemed as cattle.

Gorge and satisfy, the passenger demanded it.

And yet, there was still the matter of finding an audience with another of the same name.

Marr.

There was much to discuss.

Tags: Open​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective I: A New World Order

It had been a careful balance that they had both decided would be the right course to make certain that the Order at large would not simply wave them aside when it came time to feast upon the carcass of the Tsis'Kaar. It was too, a determined stance, for between Malum's distrust of the Emperor, and Ali's outright hatred of him, it made sense that only one of them was present here today, Darth Strosius was off battling on some world, proving himself to all others as at least an acceptable loyalist to the cause, to Darth Empyrean 's Empire. While Malum would make his presence felt amongst the powermakers and warlords of the Empire, the Lords and Ladies which made the core of its strength and vitality.

Of course, as was the won't of a member of the Tsis'Kaar, with the organisation dead or not, he could not do so, so openly.

He was in the middle of the crowd one moment, or then amongst a group of gossipers and schemers, or later simply in the exteriors, a corner or secluded place of the wall, simply watching. None saw him, none heard him, and indeed he was confident enough to think that none even knew of his presence here. Of course, there were few exceptions, ones he had to consider that if they did not know of his presence, would at least know that there was a presence.

He had seen Alina Tremiru among the crowds, and he had made a quick escape as soon as he saw her. She would perhaps be the most dangerous, not to his mortality, though she was no one to scoff at, but simply to his continued plans, if she could cut him off from the Force, he would find himself naked amongst the assembly gathered, revealed and seen, and that would simply not do. At the very least, he could comment she seemed as well as ever, for as much as a woman who was brought back from death itself could be described as... well. Her words seemed accurate to the character he knew, first and foremost, whose door would they knock down?

He might have chuckled if it would not bring him low.

Ah, the other reason he was here, not spoken of, for weakness was not simply confessed, but the fact remained whereas Ali had recovered from their battle on Fiviune as well as... as well a Sangnir, Malum himself was still tied to the coils of his species, and as magical as bacta was, it could not take away the aches, and breaks, and sores, and spasms, which his body at every waking hour, of every waking day since Fiviune.

He simply was not ready to go back to the field.

A parting gift from his Mistress, he supposed.

A soft chuckle broke out in his mind, where his physical jaw was too tired to try.

There were others of note as well, Darth Carnifex sat in the rear of the Assembly Hall, his presence a sort of submission to the new order, he supposed. His presence a dangerous one for him, for amongst any in the group, he was the one apart from one another that may have had the best chance of knowing of his presence here, and unlike the other, had no reason to keep it a secret. Truly, he was unsure if the Twice Failed Emperor knew he was here, the only comfort he had, coming from circular reasoning was the fact he had not been revealed yet, but that could not even be called a cold comfort.

He had avoided his servants as well for similar reasons, Darth Caedes along with his entourage, of which he only knew by name the sentient tree which he had met upon Korriban, Madrona A’Mia . Darth Caedes was not one whom anyone should wish to cross, especially disadvantaged as he was, while the acolyte had proven herself as one to at least keep an eye on. He could at least see she spoke well, and confidently as well, and the fact she spoke for her master was a detail he scraped away for later, it spoke to a closeness which could be useful.

For what? He could not quite say.

There had been others of interest, Gerwald Lechner had arrived, a partisan of the Emperor, or at the very least of the Empress, and whose presence reminded him of the sight of blades crossing in Alvaria, taking his perhaps natural place at the right hand of the Emperor. There was Taeli Raaf , a woman he had never but one which was hard to not know of, an associate of the Emperors both, was not a woman to be ignored.

There were others as well, those who seemed to exude power, but kept themselves from the centre of attention, a figure who seemed to watch the proceedings with amusement, another who had trouble even entering the Halls, almost begging to be underestimated, and a figure by Darth Caedes which he had sworn Ali had told him of.

But they mattered little, all of them mattered little, for this was a day for the Emperor's triumph, and none, no matter how individually powerful, no matter how high their rank, could challenge that. The Ouroboros Crisis, as it was coming to be called, the doomed Tsis'Kaar rebellion, the mistake and lie, that he knew it was, was all a show, and now, they would see its conclusion.

A united Sith Empire at last.

It was time to do his part.

Even as he ground his teeth at every word of the speech.

Taking his rightful place at the pod for Alvaria, one of the newest amongst the Sith conquests, left empty as another pointed message of the price of treason, the cloak fell off.

And Darth Malum of House Marr, with a mask of the same make of that oh-so-famous ancestor, bloodied with the sacrifice of everything he gave at Fiviune, spoke the words which he hated but were necessary. Which had been planned so long ago, when survival was all that he cared for.

Where had loyalty gone? Where had honour? Where had duty?

His mind gave him no answer, while the sounds of surprise erupted around him. An assassin in their midst, a traitor, but he had taken on a new role now, a loyalist.

"The Emperor speaks well, and speaks the truth, for those who were swayed by Darth Ophidia's treason, shall have their rightful recompense, those who will continue their doomed battle will be annihilated, while those who remain true, remain loyal, to His Imperial Majesty, and the Empire, I pledge on their behalf, and my own, our fealty, and would only ask how we might serve the Imperium to clean ourselves of the sins of our former Mistress."

Darth Metus Blade Ice Elmindra Xitaar