From Beneath You [TSE Dom of Gravlex Med Hex]

[Darth Caecus]

​

| Gravlex Med |​

There was no need, it seemed, to take the world by force. A small team would do the job as surely as an army. The Anx who called Gravlex Med their home were peaceful, timid creatures. So the Dark Lord sent them to woo.... or to threaten.... whichever was necessary to draw the shadow of the Empire's influence over the heavy world.

No one expected the Sith Knight who led the team would be returned to Carnifex in several boxes.

The response from the Dark Lord was immediate and uncompromising.

A dozen ships, a hundred Sith, and murder in their eyes.

Vengeance, for brothers and sisters, yes. But also, for some, the sheer joy of it.

Cleanse them from their burrows the Dark Lord ordered. Shed blood for blood. ​

It would be straight forward slaughter. The Anx in their burrows would prove no match for the fury of the Sith. But something lurked beneath it all. What, after all, had caused them to act so deeply out of character for such a species? Not only to slaughter those sent to parlay, but to communicate it in such a brutal manner?

The only clue came from the message sent. Words, along with the bloody pieces.

From Beneath You​

Most assumed it was merely a warning. The Anx lived underground, after all. That they would come at them from below. It seemed straight forward to some of them. Others, however, frowned thoughtfully, and wondered if that was really all.

*****

The flag ship of the Dark Lord would receive a message, just as the attack was launched. It had gone through multiple channels to reach him, ultimately handed over by Darth Saarai himself. The message was simple, from deep beneath the surface of Gravlex Med. But not, he was assured, from the Anx. Succinct, but offering an answer to a question they had assumed when those boxes had been opened.

​

Two survived. The Anx have them. ​

And their names. [member="Atlas Kane"]. [member="Tsisaar Taral"]. Not simply revenge, then. Showing these cave dwellers their place. But also rescue. Retrieval.

If the Anx did not murder them first.

 

[Arage Bao]

G R A V L E X | M E D​

[member="Darth Caecus"]​

​

Several months had passed since she had hired him on Rishi.

Things had settled into an, if not comfortable, than at the very least predicable pace. Sometimes he would go on missions with Kith, while others were spend with Caecus- each having similar abilities to a degree that Luca suspected that Kith was not simply an operative. No, that one was most likely the apprentice of the Sith Lord.

Why they would hide that from him was anyone's guess, but they did not mention it.... and as such it was not his business.

"About nine of them throughout the three tunnels leading up here." Thorne relayed over to Caecus- no worry this time about whispering, the external audio-feed was closed and their conversation was directly transmitted from mouth-to-ear. "Some of them weep blood... others are clawing at their own skin without noticing, Lord Caecus."

If Luca was disturbed by this observation he did not show it.

But the operative knew something wasn't right here. The Anx were meek and uninterested in fighting, so what had prompted them to suddenly turn around and do the things they had?

"Staging a rescue would be risky, my Lord." Thorne added after a moment of thought. Not in terms of success- he was reasonably sure they would be able to slaughter them, before they knew what was going on. But would the two Sith they had captured still be alive to tell the tale? That was a concern for sure.

Sitting here and wait for them to be executed was another one.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Raioballo Sector, Anx Space
Gravlex Med

It was pure outrage that blossomed across the Dark Lord's features.

From what he had read, from what his scribes had studied and compiled from sources all across the galaxy, these pitiful Anx were notoriously peaceful and nonviolent. He had expected their compliance to come easily, but instead the delegates he had sent had gone missing with one of their own being returned to him in literal pieces.

That could not stand. No one murdered the Dark Lord's messengers. No one.

And so with great fury and indignation in his molten eyes he assembled War Fleet Black Iron, marshalled the legions of the Blackblade Guard, and led the charge to war against the Anx who had so audaciously slighted him and his Empire. They arrived in the system one at a time, a great convocation of angular warships all materializing into existence one after the other in a dazzling display of the Empire's military might. At their head was his flagship, the Blade of Fate, and from its hull would emerge dozens of AT-RDPs, All Terrain Rapid Deployment Pods, that would spear the planet's atmosphere with their numbers before colliding firmly with the surface in and around the vast savannahs that separated the pitch-black mountains of the Anx.

The pods bay doors would open and out would emerge the black-clad warriors of the Blackblade Guard and towering machines of war. The Dark Lord himself would arrive alongside these soldiers in his personal shuttle, the Crestfallen, and would help lead his warriors down into the darkened earth to eradicate these insolent beings from the face of the galaxy.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Rescue missions were something Antherion loathed. The idea of lowering one's self to personally clean up another's mess was ridiculous; a scion of the Dark Side was not some guardian angel to be called upon so freely. Soldiers could be traded for captured soldiers like common coin, or assets with understandable vulnerability could be snatched from the clutches of jealous enemies, but a Sith gets held to a different standard. Do you want your apprentice to learn the lesson that they could expect to be whisked away from danger they themselves allowed to envelope them? How will they learn responsibility?

That being said, the Dark Lord himself, the proud warrior had been offended, had desired immediate, swift, and terrible vengeance. It would do well to indulge the man's desires, assuming this uncharacteristic violence on part of the Anx wasn't some elaborate trap to lure the Empire to this location.

After a moment's examination of the nearest, clearest threads of time, he was fairly confident it was not. Confident enough to accompany the sky-blackening fleet of Sith invaders to avail himself to the latest incarnation of what he was now convinced was an essential reality of the Sith.

As the shuttle bay surged with activity, the corpse-like lord, feeling rather numb, enjoyed a measure of deference and berth by the massed minions. All the better that they not get in the way - his concern wasn't with them. Only slaughter. He bent his head slightly in inclined meditation as he raced planetside, gathering power that itched to be unleashed.

"So it begins."

 

[Vaylin]

Raioballo Sector, Anx Space​

Gravlex Med​

Vaylin let out a roar as she sank her lightsaber into the torso of another enemy. A grin formed across the Zabrak's face as she tore the red blade through the Anx's body and cut it in half.

The Valkyries of the Sith Empire had descended upon Gravlex Med with nothing but death and slaughter burning in their eyes. There would be no converting this day, not even a glance would be spared to see if there were any worthy. For every soul on the planet was deemed unworthy, and destined to die at the hands of the Sith.

As was decreed by [member="Darth Carnifex"].

This was Vaylin's first proper foray in the various campaigns the Sith Empire was undertaking. She was joining the side of her sister-in-arms, [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] in the slaughter of the Anx. The Zabrak was adorned in her personal armour, one she had recently manufactured to fall in line with what the other current Valkyries wore, matching the red and black colour scheme.

Already it had proven invaluable, taking a couple blaster bolts that had managed to strike the shoulders. The ones who had managed to hit her, had met a swift and painful end.

Vaylin hopped back as a grenade was thrown her way. The Zabrak quickly pushed the device back as she moved, sending it rolling back towards its owner. She slid back towards Kaalia as the Kro Varian took down another Anx.

"I haven't had this much fun in a long while." Vaylin spoke with a grin, bloodlust evident in her expression. While Aria had done well to sharpen it into something more precise, the Zabrak still required her moments of just unleashing hell upon someone.

She looked around to take in the situation. They were currently amongst a group of the Blackblade Guard, having deployed alongside them in one of the pods. A couple more Sith were around, killing any and every Anx that came across their path. One of particular note; at least to Vaylin, was [member="Vereshin"] . Especially considering that the last time she had seen the young man, he was completely different then to what he had already demonstrated today.

 

[Atlas Kane]

Overconfidence could bring down even the most powerful warriors. This was a lesson Atlas had learned the day they arrived at Gravlex Med. In retaliation for their butchered envoys, the Sith had dispatched a small army to the Anx' homeworld a hundred warriors strong. Only two out of the hundred survived, however. Two out of a hundred warriors who should have been able to butcher the warriors of this insignificant planet with the same ease as a Nexu slaughtering its prey. The Sith had come to the planet confident in their imminent victory, yet they had underestimated the Anx' willingness to fight.

What should have been a quick ordeal had turned into a slaughter. Initially, the Sith had breezed through the Anx' defences, killing soldier after soldier, terrorist after terrorist, as they made their way deeper and deeper into the tunnels. However, when the Sith forces re-converged in a large central hub connected to the surface the Anx sprang their trap. Off the black market, they had bought various tools and weapons in preparation for the Sith. Slugthrowers, Sonic Blasters, Thermal Detonators, and, most devastatingly, a small number of Ysalamiri. The Anx used these creatures to cut the Sith's connection to the Force and had then assaulted the Sith in larger numbers than before. It had been a quick and brutal ordeal that left only the Anx standing, victorious over the slain bodies of ninety-eight Sith and with two captives.


Thwack.

Atlas felt the pain run through his system, originating beneath his left eye, the point where the Anx terrorist had struck him with his rifle's stock. It coursed through the nerves on his face for several seconds, the pain feeding his hatred.

The Anx had kept the Ysalamiri close to him and the other at all times. They were careful, eliminating the only advantage the two Sith had over them. He was unsure of what had happened to his Lightsaber or his armour, when he woke up all he had on him was the black tunic he wore beneath his armour. It left him feeling exposed. The Sith had not gone beyond his private quarters without donning his armour that covered the scarred and destroyed flesh of his face and body in years.

The pain began subsiding and Atlas spat towards the soldier, now half middle of turning around to face his comrade. Immediately another guard retaliated, stabbing Atlas' side with the tip of a shock staff. The electricity ran through his body, painful memories resurfacing along with them. The Sith's anger only grew in response. Not only had he allowed himself to be defeated by unworthy creatures, they now had free reign over him, for the moment it was them who were in control and he hated it with every fibre of his being. All he could think about was breaking free to kill the Anx and slaughter each and every one of them. His vision was entirely tunneled on his captors, barely did he even notice where they had been taken.

For the past few hours the two Sith had been dragged through the tunnels of Gravlex Med, yet now they had reached their destination. A small prison complex deep below the planet's surface where the Anx had thrown them into a cell, their only exit blocked by a red field of energy that burnt anything it came in contact with. Both had been restrained with binders and were now being strung up against the wall, their bodies forced to stand by cables that extended from the wall to their bindings. After the shock Atlas had been too exhausted to attempt to defy them, merely hanging against the wall to catch a brief respite.

The red field dissipated and the guards left the cell, Atlas following their movements with a murderous glare. One of them stepped to a console in front of the cell's door and re-engaged the force field, then he tapped more buttons, causing a quiet whirring sound within the cell. Within seconds the already stronger gravity of Gravlex Med was increased multiple times by a device that had been attached to the ceiling. This sudden, new weight that bore down on Atlas' body caused him unimaginable pain and all he could do was scream as he was pressed harder and harder into the bindings around his limbs. He could see their captors laugh outside the Force field as one of them tapped the console again and the increased gravity normalised itself.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

The Rakosta, In Orbit above Gravlex Med.


The heavy beat of the drums of war and bloodlust rang loud and vicious within the ears of the Sith forces gathered above Gravlex Med. The thirst of conquest and the desire for vengeance - for some - sung within their bodies, hearts pounding with a ferocious desire to satiate their thirst for blood and blood pounding with the desire to slake their hunger upon the Darkness that their very emotions and the slaughter they would preform would birth. However, it would be more accurate to say that such effects were present solely within the majority of the mass of warriors, inquisitors and soldiers. Pushed forwards by the rage that burned so brightly within the man named their Dark Lord, the voices of the majority spoke words of death and glory. But, within the minority, their rage was less a roaring fire and more a river of ice: cold, calculated and just as deadly. And those with ice in their hearts whispered unheard words of caution, unheeded advice of something wrong being afoot.

One such Sith with ice in his hearts was Darth Lykos, though his voice remained silenced. Rage had already taken the forces of the Sith Empire, stirring them into a frenzied desire for death upon those they saw as trespassing against them. Such emotion hung heavy, to the point that the Iridonian could swear that he could taste such emotions upon the atmosphere; never mind the fact that the Force was rife with such emotions anyway. Speaking words of caution would garner no response, he had known this even before those with similar thoughts had attempted to speak them. As such, even if caution whispered to him, he was stood aboard his ship, a ship that was currently deploying soldiers to the surface despite his misgivings. In the end, the only thing that his caution could do was ensure that he stood separate from the frenzied hoard of Sith descending to the planet.

Hands clasped behind his back, his robes cast aside leaving him clad only in leather trousers and plackart, the Iridonian stood alone in front of the a window, within which the landscape of Gravlex Med stretched out before him. The deck behind him was empty, that he knew for certain without even needing to remove his amber gaze from the planet bellow. Every personal officer had hurried to leave the Sith Lord alone once he had chosen to let his Presence within the Force loose the tiniest of bits, just enough that they would be able to feel the heavy weight of his annoyance pressing in on them like hungered shadows. With him along as he was, Lykos was free to mutter to himself, organising his thoughts through verbalising them.

The silence that he was stood in, a silence that had only been broken in the past minuets when Lykos had been muttering under his breath, was broken as the door behind him slid open with a near silent hiss. Without turning, Lykos knew what was happening behind him, the bond he had attached to his Hand, Darth Gvibr also known as Tiae'khta, alerting him to the fact that it was she that had entered the room. From what he knew of her habits, he could guess that she was clad in robes similar to his own, the hood drawn, with black lace gloves covering her hands and a white, porcelain mask peaking out from beneath the hood of the robe.

"Are you going to reveal know as to why we are not participating with the rest, my lord?"

The dry words garnered little reaction from the Zabrak apart from a slight quirk of his lips. Twisting his head to stare at the woman, revealing that his assumption as to her attire was correct, Lykos bade her to step forwards so as to draw equal with him with naught but a silent gesture of his hand. Turning his attention back to the planet below, the Lord of Oblivion's silence continued to ring loud until his Hand had done as he had bid and her gaze was upon the world as well. It was only then that he spoke in response to her question, his voice loud in the empty quiet of the room.

"Tell me, what is wrong with this picture?" His arms spread wide momentarily so as to gesture towards the surface of Gravlex Med before his hands were once more clasped behind his back. Without waiting for a reply, he continued on. "A timid species, stagnant and peace loving, are the Anx. And, yet, the party sent to meet with them are returned as chunks of flesh, two of our own are held captive, restrained. In response, the horns of war have been sounded, conflict and rage born forth upon this world at the command of our Emperor. And, overlooked by many, a message speaking of a beneath."

The Lord awaited for no response before continuing to speak, a habit that his Apprentice was well accustomed to. "War burned within our Forces, responding to the war cries of the Emperor. Few are preventing the fires from consuming them, few are pausing to ask what is wrong with this picture, pushed forwards as they are by the Emperor's fury. Words of caution are ignored and brushed aside. And, so, the question goes unanswered: what is wrong with this picture?"

Stopping his speech on the question, he raised a brow towards Gvibr, awaiting an answer. But, all that he was greeted with was the blank, emotionless mask that she wore and silence. However, it seemed that within said silence he had found and answer within that silence, for a smirk spread across scarred features as Lykos turned back towards the planet once more.

"Leave me. Involve yourself in the command the soldiers if you so wish. I care not if you choose to do so or not, but, no matter what, leave me to my thoughts and the quiet; I must think." With a bow of her head, Gvibr turned to leave, however, at the now open doorway, she turned back to stare at her Master.

"Peaceful creatures speaking of a threat from below? They are not speaking of themselves, but something else. Potentially something pushing for these odd actions." It was only the fact that she had immediately turned around to leave, the door sliding shut behind her, that Gvibr missed the smirk, one tinged with a dark sense of pride, that Lykos had turned around to shoot towards her. Chuckling lowly as the echo of the hiss made by the door closing faded away, Lykos began to pace now that he was alone, the silence broken by just a few more words.

"Well said, my dear. Well said."

 

[Hailey Sosis]

Harley had come with a few troop transport frigates, she was coming with a battalion of blackblade guard, and over ten thousand slave warriors. Her job was simple enough, destruction and chaos. She was in her hide armour, and her helmet under her arm, she didn't like wearing it, as it gives her helmet head. She also realised she needed a new sport bra, as it was digging in a bit. She new it would be rubbing her, by time she entered combat. She decided to make her way down to troop area, and see the blackblade guard. They where all peeping themselves for battle a head. She smiled and took a selfie of herself sent it to [member="Isabella Fonti"], with a message about to cause chaos wish me luck. She then felt a ship shudder, as it entered the planets atmosphere. The ship was going to land soon. The guardsmen where pushing the slaves into position, so that they would be the first to go out of the ship when it landed. She was ready, and looking forward to looting after the chaos.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ma4PRg5K4m0

A red flesh.

A blue flash.

One by one, with haunting precision, bodies dropped to the floor before Kaalia as her pair of lightsabers blossomed death. Her almost inhumanly graceful movement was aided by the application of Wind Shaping, providing a contrast of sophistication, if mass killing had any degree of that, to [member="Vaylin"]'s bloodthirsty slaughter. There was rage within the woman, a wish to make the Anx pay for their actions. None would cross the Sith without retribution, a lesson they would learn in full. This wasn't mindless slaughter, this was a message. A message that simply had to be sent. In all honesty the woman would have preferred a different option, but the Anx did not cooperate. For that, they would pay.

None were worthy to see the truth.

All would be cut down without mercy.

That was the judgment of Darth Acacyn, elder of the Valkyries. And so there would be no Annointers today, merely Deathbringers. The souls of their enemies were returned to the Force this day. Not because it was fun to her like it was to the zabrak, but because it was a necessity. She wore her Valkyrie armor like she did whenever she represented the group of female Sith.

Scenes such as this one were not unfamiliar to her. Early in her service in the First Order Kaalia fought on Kaeshana against the Galactic Alliance, the start of a long war. The mass of bodies of pirates and other lowlifes in front of her as they were being brutally cut down, she herself one of the people who were doing so. She had moved with tears in her eyes, feeling nothing but pain and grief as she hesitated with every kill. She was a scared and weak little girl, a far cry from who she was now. Everything was different. Struggles with the Light were far in the past, her true self had long been found. There was no hesitation now. There were no tears in her eyes. Fury had replaced pain and grief.

An Anx jumped towards her to try and push her to the ground, but it was to no avail. Deftly stepping to the side Kaalia stood behind her next kill as she crossed her sabers and with one swift motion uncrossed them with his torso between it. The result was that he was cut clean in half, its lower body slumping to the floor as the upper part also succumbed to gravity and fell to the floor itself. Her corrupted irishes flashed past it for a split second before turning her attention to Vaylin, who had found herself standing at the redhead's side now.

"That bloodlust you carry is a powerful weapon. Make sure you don't cut yourself on its edge." It was all the Kro Varian would say about it. It was easy to lose oneself in battle and let your emotions control you, but that was a dangerous thing. Losing control was never a good thing. She was confident Aria taught her well however. Somewhere near the two a grenade went off that took an Anx with it, but at that point the Lady of Defiance was already back in the fray. For a moment she saw Vaylin's attention being drawn to a young man, another Sith, but did not bother looking further into it.

[member="Vereshin"]

 

[Cle-Var-Ri]

In Cle-Var-Ri's youth as an acolyte, there were few things she feared. Bestial instinct aside, she was apprentice to the Dark Lord, after all. Truly, what did she have to fear? It was her master himself in all his rage that had her fearing for her life, giving the Dark Lord a wide berth as she awaited orders. Personally, she thought getting this bent up over a messenger was a bit silly. The chance of death came with the territory of serving the empire, it was no surprise that this would happen.

Still, this little incursion of destruction would give the Tiss'shar some much welcome exercise, maybe even dinner and a show. She was content to wait out the journey in calculated silence, snapping only once or twice when warriors of the Blackblade guard got a bit too close to her tail. The acolyte gleefully awaited the moment she'd get to dig her claws and saber into Anx flesh and really just enemy flesh in particular.

When at last it came time to lay siege on the poor, poor fools that dared cross the empire, Clever was cautious to approach [member="Darth Carnifex"], in fear his wrath would be turned upon her. Keeping several steps back in her approach, stopping to growl at a guard as they once again grew too close to her extra appendage, she addressed her master in a tone that was uncharacteristically meek for the reptile. "Your orders, master?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord's blade was a blur of speed and light, singing through the air to bisect an Anx from shoulder to hip while simultaneously sundering the rifle held in his nimble reptilian fingers. The Anx fell back, a deep sigh bypassing his lips as a thin spray of steamed blood gushed from the grievous wound that had felled him. The mist splattered the front of the Dark Lord's armor, a thin sheen of crimson gathering with each kill he claimed on the battlefield.

There weren't many milling about in the savannahs, they would undoubtedly conceal their true strength beneath the mountains in their subterranean cities. Carnifex was tempted to glass their whole planet from orbit, and he was on the cusp of doing so when the information about the two survivors reached him.

The Sith, even though they were acolytes, deserved better than to languish at the hands of cretins that had evolved from herd beasts. Part of him relished in the chance to lead a full-scale assault on the planet, to get down in the nitty-gritty of battle and cull this worthless species up close and personal. It brought fond memories of Togoria to the surface and those bleak days when he and his Blackblades scoured the surface clean of life with their hate, stripping it down to rock and driving those beasts to near-extinction.

Now he would do the same to the Anx, their blasphemy could not go unpunished.

More came at him now, most of them unarmed. He distinctly remembered that the Anx were exceptional biologists, and had dedicated their intense study of that field into a form of combat that was known to taken down opponents without shedding a single drop of blood.

A worthless technique, if you asked Carnifex.

The Dark Lord thrust his hand out, unbalancing their uncoordinated charges with a rolling wall of Force energy that sent them careening towards the ground. He was on them immediately, spearing one through the torso before he could arise and then decapitating another with a flick of his wrist. The other had recovered and attempted to flank him only for Carnifex he conjure bolts of scarlet lightning from his fingertips to envelop the alien in a web of dark energy which calcified his bones and caused his flesh to crack and peel with agonizing heat.

He turned to [member="Cle-Var-Ri"], "Kill any Anx that you find, apprentice. Man, woman, child... It does not matter which. All will suffer the pain of annihilation."

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

The Rakosta, In Orbit Above Gravles Med​

​

​

Silence accompanied the once more robe-clad form of Darth Lykos, bared feet making no noise as he prowled through the bowls of the starship under his command. But, then, he prefered the silence over noise and confusion, for it gave him more time to his thoughts and that was something of importance for the robed Zabrak. With him being adorned in his robes once more nothing of the outfit he wore beneath could be seen, not even the shape of the plackart strapped to his chest. The cowl was raised, casting his face into a seemingly unnatural amount of shadows; to the point that the only feature that someone could possibly make out of his face was his jawline and the single, glowing, amber hued eye that glared out of the shadows.

Stopping at one door, one seemingly no different from the numerous other lacking-in-detail, cold metal doors that lined that hallway, let alone the many that he had passed, Lykos raised one hand, tanned and scarred flesh being thrown into sharp contrast from the lights that lined the ceiling above his head. Pressing his hand against a planes to the side of the door, he waited for only a moment as the scanner did its work, confirming his identity, before the door slid open with a hiss.

As it did so, a cold shock of air seemed to coil and seep from the depths of the room, a refreshing sensation that ran over Lykos and caused him to inhale a lungful of the biting, cold air. After relishing in the sharpness of the cold, so at odd with the more lukewarm air that filled the corridor he stood in, for a moment, Lykos stepped forwards into the darkened room, the door sliding shut and locking behind him.

For a few seconds, the dark seemed to consume him, pressing upon him from all sides, muting all sense of sight. However, rather than be afraid as someone of a weaker mind might have been, Lykos simply smirked into the darkness around him. Slowly, as his pupil dilated, blotting out all amber in his eye, Lykos' vision began to adjust to the low light setting of the room; the only illumination being a few lit candles softly burning within their alcoves, held in place by steel bands, on the far side of the room.

With practiced ease, as he simply stood their, Lykos managed to shrug the layers of cloth from his shoulders, his robes once more being cast aside and onto the makeshift bed - made up of only a thick mat and a couple of blankets. However, this time, as his vision began to finally settle, he also chose to shed the leather plackard; leaving him in the pair of trousers he wore and nothing else.

Striding forwards, three normal strides from the tall Zabrak being enough to consume the length of the rather small - at least compared to his quarters - room, Lykos lowered himself to his knees before the set of 5 candles with very little sound. Clasping his hands across his lap, fingers winding around each other in a shock of cold metal upon warm flesh, Lykos closed his one eye - the other, ruined eyelid simply fluttering slightly - as he took deep breaths of the cold. With every inhale he drew upon that cold to feed the frozen river of chaos that lay within him and with every exhale he dove deeper into the Force. Slowly, bit, by bit, he lost his identity as Xavka Duquo: Darth Lykos, Lord of Oblivion, The White Assassin and Aspect of Conquest. Slowly, bit by bit, he became less but also more at the same time.

When his eye opened, it gazed forwards almost unseeingly, Lykos now tethered to his sense of sense - the world around him, his own body - by nothing more than the thinnest of strands. Staring deep into the black of the flame before him, unable to feel the cold, almost unable to even see anything other than the black before him, he let go. With a sense of dark, frozen anger shielding his mind, guiding it to his will, the rope that was the final bond between mind and body and soul frayed and then snapped as he delved deep into the Force.

 

[Yaadri Osi-Yyn]

The Lost Wraith,
Above Gravlex Med.

A soft crack emitted, as Venthis' ship exited hyperspace into Anx space. He idly sat in the cockpit, watching the planet from orbit for sometime. Almost analyzing it. He logged onto the terminal before him, before his target appeared on the monitor. Reading over the information, Venthis shrugged before shutting the terminal off. Speaking directly into his microphone "I've reached the planet. Heading down now." He concluded the message before grabbing onto the controls and making his descent upon the planet. Venthis didn't care for what they had done, or wherever or not it was them. The Dark Lord called for death. Death was what he brought.

He broke through the atmosphere, the front of his ship funneling flames on each side before coming down onto the surface. The ship tilting backward as it landed, with the cockpit peeling open allowing the Acolyte to step out of the ship. His feet embracing the ground, a gust of air rushing past him as he did. Venthis felt something in the force, sheer pain and destruction. His head turned to it, to only see a battle unfold in the near distance. That was not his mission here.

Screams and explosions, something Venthis had come to avoid as of late. His skill set leaning towards becoming an Assassin. He saw an opening to a cave, he had learned that the clan leaders of the Anx tend to reside down within the interlinking network of caves beneath the planet. Though surrounding it, several trees. Though there was some form of beings clinging to the branches. He glanced up squinting his eyes at them, beneath his mask. He wore a Hidden Blade on his right arm, specifically with the 'Lanvarok' edition. He would aim the wrist-mounted launcher at the creatures and fire. The small creature, known as a Medx Homunculi would be impaled and fly from the tree causing all of its surrounding family to flee in fear. Venthis smirked, before sliding down into the cave network. Death's Messenger was approaching.

[member="Skai"]

 

[Lord Depravious]

A drop pod from The Blade of Fate - Flagship
Gravlex Med

The drop pod shuttered around Lord Depravious as it began to enter the atmosphere. The Sith had come here for a rescue mission and also to gain dominion over these lands he thought - after taking a deep breath in and closing his eyes. Lord Depravious didn't much care for the rescue of any Sith - their weakness was showcased the moment they allowed these cretins to take them hostage; however, there was something about the rage and emotion Darth Carnifex showed over this that inspired Depravious.

Perhaps this was a man he could be proud to follow, to war. Shaidin had received word that the Dark Lord would be leading the ground forces. Yet another trait that Depravious admired - he knew of the Sith Lords who saw themselves as master minds - controlling the small chess pieces in a war. The Lord Kamari didn't see it that way - you couldn't truly win a war without having been in the dirt fighting right along side the rest of your troops on the front line.

The Drop-pod touched down and the doors slowly began to open. There were only two things on Lord Depravious's mind: He'd have a higher kill count than the Dark Lord of the Sith, and his insatiable blood lust.

Thud.

He took one step out of the drop pod his armor heavy around his body, his hands clenched around the halberd tightly as his eyes grew wider and more blood shot. He could see that the battle had already begun, the Sith troops beginning to dig in and slaughter the natives without remorse. The metal bent under his foot as he took his first stride, his halberd at the ready at his side.

In mere moments his insanity began to take over his mind and force speed was layered over his body - he flashed by some of the Sith Forces in what could only look like to non-force sensitives as a black blur. In a song of durasteel and flesh his Halberd swung out wide in large wide cleaving motions carving into the flesh of all who lay before him. Though, he did not carve into his enemies blindly in his insanity and blood lust there was an unmistakable precision and finesse in his strikes. As he passed by several Anx - a family of four two children, a mother, and father - he sliced through their necks taking large chunks out of the childrens flesh so that they could choke on their own blood before dying. The Parents he was more precise with - his halberd cut across their bodies with deep carving slashes and in an instant their heads rolled off of their bodies.

He was unaware though; that their primary use of weaponry was biological weapons. As a small dispatch of Anx soldiers charged at him - the force alerted him to the possible danger ahead. He felt the hairs stand up on his neck and chills run down his body. He thrived on this feeling - and for the first time in a long time Lord Depravious felt the blood pumping through his veins with purpose.

From deep within his lungs came a force scream that ripped through the Anx forces echoing through the burrow they had attempted to storm out. The screech shredded the biological weapons in their hands - as a dark twisted noise destroyed their ear drums.

Lord Depravious knew that other Sith had plans on rescuing the Sith that were below the mountains - he was here for the slaughter the pure and utter massacre that was to ensue. If there was an even greater foe below the rocks he would gladly face it and take the honor and glory that belonged to such a victory; until then, the blood of meager beings could sate him.

 

[Darth Caecus]

The caves were black as pitch.

Normally lit in low and gentle hues, the Anx had turned off all illumination in these parts of the tunnels. She didn't know how extensive the black out was, but it hardly mattered. She wasn't here as a guardian angel of the Sith above. She wasn't even sure she was here as that for the two unfortunate Sith held by the Anx.

came the buzzing reply, communicator built directly into her mask.

While Kith, as he knew her, was not prone to exessive talking, especially without reason, when she was Caecus he received even less. It was a natural difference between when she was wearing the mask and when she was not, unaffected but clear delineation nonetheless. Both were her, just different interpretations. And she was perfectly content to let that natural line fall in a place that had him think they were two different people.

The Yes encompassed everything he'd said. All of it true. It also meant that she had every intention of moving forward.

She meant without being noticed. He had seen her do it once before as Caecus. Virtually disappear. Oh, she was there, certainly. But even knowing where she was, his eyes had slid off of her, wanting to be elsewhere, reflected like light from pane of glass. In the darkness it would only be easier.

It would put her between the Anx and their prisoners. But also on the wrong side of his fire. She did not instruct him to not use any weapon at his disposal, he would have to decide for himself what was best.

[member="Luca Thorne"] | [member="Atlas Kane"] | [member="Tsisaar Taral"]​

 

[Laguz Vald]

plink plink plink

The sound of an indecisive merc flicking xir finger against the barrel of a rifle. And what a rifle it was. What rifles they were, really – for there was a whole collection laid out before xem. Ordered neither by color nor length, but by the role they were most suited to.

Such beauty in each of them, such perfect marriage of engineering and stopping power.

Laguz sighed in wonder. Even after all these years… xir eyes shifted to a small display set up at the edge of the wide workbench. The prices held, high as ever. So long as there were Sith in this galaxy, there were jobs for people like xem.

Hunters, trackers, killers, spies. Call it what you want.

Vald was a professional. If the next week saw xem putting holes through xir current contractor, it’d be an honest day’s work.

“ETA?” xe croaked, voice rusty from disuse. A beat. “Five,” the pilot replied, curt. Good man, Slim. Had many other talents besides keeping a ship from crashing real well. Most of them, xe didn’t care about.

One was kinda important today, though. Xir gaze dropped to a small transponder. Aurodium-coated, so it didn’t cause infections if you put it inside your body.

Which was, incidentally, exactly what Laguz did. Xe pinched the thin strip of metal and circuitry between precise fingers, squeezed xir eyes shut, and slid it through parting flesh. Nothing new by now, but still unpleasant.

Shuddering, xe sealed the device with xir own tissue. Well, that’s done.

And so xe stood, picked a rifle off the desk and stalked over to the airlock.

Funny, how well-supplied the black market was with IFF codes.

 

[Arage Bao]

Once those words were said no more reactions followed from him other than a nod.

Already Thorne went crouched down to his knees, giving himself room to maneuver and getting out his rifle. It was compact, light, the casing and stock made out of phrik (how many heads had he dashed with it?), but most importantly it was heavily customizable. While the armor around him hummed in anticipation the checked the silencer once more, the rapid-fire module.

It also had a tagging system- aim at a friendly and the trigger would refuse to budge for the first half a second. Luca didn't check that one, because it was disabled.

There wasn't a lot of room to maneuver here and the calibration of the system was too generous.

The last thing Luca needed was to be karked just as he had a good shot, not when he knew he could make it and it was just the machine telling him otherwise. All of this happened within the next few seconds, then the soldier moved away. He had already assumed that Caecus would want to take his chances with the insane bastards.

So he had designated an initial area for himself.

Breathe. Wait. Be still.

" Now. " Caecus never wasted any words.

His finger was already squeezing the trigger.

[member="Atlas Kane"] | [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Darth Caecus"]​

 

[Vaylin]

The Zabrak quirked a single eyebrow at Kaalia's comment. If this had been months before she would've likely followed it with a retort. But the beast that had been forged during those years on Dxun was chained, formed from her time training under Aria. Her master had taught her how to leash it, to extended it out when it was needed to be unleashed, or kept close and more controlled.

Albeit it was still a process, as some days Vaylin found that sometimes the leash slipped from her hands.

Today was not one of those days however, and she gave the Kro Varian a simple nod in response before jumping back into the fight.

Vaylin sighted a trio of Anx approaching her position, each carrying some type of ranged weapon from blaster to rifle. They immediately began to fire at her. Her lightsaber was a blur as she brought it up, blocking and deflecting the bolts as they flew towards her. Most zipped past her, but the ones that did strike she tried to direct back at them.

As the volley of fire increased, Vaylin ducked letting it pass over head before standing back up, summoning the Force to her hands. She brought a barrier up, but it was clearly not going to last too long, though it was enough for the Zabrak's purpose, her eyes lingering on a sizable slab of stone that was partially buried in the ground.

After a pause for breath, Vaylin dropped the barrier and immediately thrusted her hand out, sending a Force blast towards the trio. It knocked them off balance, providing an open for the Zabrak to send another wave towards the ground. Grass and dirt were thrown into the air, but more importantly the stone was more unearthed.

She curled the Force beneath it, lifting it up then sent it hurtling towards the Anx.

It slammed into one of them, and the sudden surprise of it gave Vaylin the opportunity to close the gap. All they saw was a blur of red as her blade came their way.

Amongst the chaos that was erupting around them, one of the Blackblade Guard approached [member="Kaalia Voldaren"].

"My Lord, we've sighted a group of Anx gathering together to the west. It appears they are preparing something away from the battle."

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

While [member="Vaylin"] continued to bring death to the Anx, Kaalia did much of the same. Blaster fire came from many angles but a combination of dodges and lightsaber weaves made it so not even a single shot managed to make it to her armor, which would have done a fine job at absorbing it in the first place. Lightsabers flourished as the woman dashes next to of one of their enemies in his cover, proceeding to swiftly detach its arms before moving to slice off his head, another death that fuelled her connection to the Dark side.

It was then that the Blackblade Guard came to Kaalia, delivering the message meant for her. "Understood. I'm leaving you in charge here, I am taking a number of forces with me to investigate and put a stop to it." There was a nod that served as answer. "Understood, milady." With that the man parted ways. The woman herself put Cruentis Cor to sleep and clipped it to her saber before dashing out of the cover to meet back up with the zabrak. A blast of fire that came from her cleared the way as Anx either dodged or were incinerated, the ones that were still intent to stop her quickly being cut down by Mirari. It was once the weapon of a Jedi, but that person followed the Light no longer. The crystal wept with every kill, but its pleas always came to deaf ears. It had no choice but to obey, the redhead simply exerting its will on it through the Force with such strength it could not be resisted.

As Darth Avacyn approach Vaylin she noticed an Anx taking aim at her from the side, which was met by gust of wind knocking the blaster out of its owner's hand. A dash later there was a single footstep's distance between the two and Kaalia plunged her weapon into the heart of the creature before flickering her saber to avoid having to pull it out. She then moved back to the zabrak. "We're moving west. The Anx are planning something there." With that she set off, a small portion of the Blackblade Guard following her.

 

[Shade of Decay]

The only light that Tsisaar and Atlas had to see by was that of the shimmering red forcefield in front of them.

Much like a Sith's lightsaber in the darkness, it gave the chamber a decidedly intimidating and unpleasant character. A wonderful tool when used by a Sith, for sure - but the turnabout was quite annoying.

"Using the Ysalimiri was a smart trick," Tsisaar grumbled to Atlas, rubbing his hands slightly in the restraints - the momentarily increased gravity had caused them to dig in quite a bit. Too many more bouts of that - or just one long stint - would leave his (and, he imagined, Atlas's) arms and wrists bloody. "I would call it impressive, if it hadn't already been used hundreds of times over hundreds of years. I'm just surprised we didn't plan for it." He grit his teeth as they increased the gravity again, letting his breath out as a low growl this time, rather than the scream he and Atlas released earlier. Once it was let up he looked around again, noticing the lack of Ysalimiri near them, and his eyes narrowed quickly.

While he and Atlas were being so tortured, most of the guards with them had left, leaving only two to watch the pair...two who didn't have the protection of the Ysalimiri with them. The two Anx guards were still busy guffawing, obviously deriving strong enjoyment from their new game. "But it appears they weren't smart enough to maintain the protection," he mused, having caught his breath after the last bout of punishment. "And I think I've just found us a way out." By this point, the sheer strength of anger and loathing growing in Tsisaar's soul was reaching a breaking point, whereat it would have to be released one way or the other. Focusing on the two Anx guards, Tsisaar released it voluntarily, grabbing both of the guardsmen through the Force and restraining them in a crushing, if unfocused, telekinetic grip. Just as the two started to register what happened they were violently yanked in Tsisaar's direction.

Their screams were cut quite short by the loud hiss of the forcefield.

Tsisaar slumped in his shackles, his useage of the Force sapping what little energy he still had, after their capture and transport to the cell. Beyond the hum of the forcefield he could hear the sounds of battle - hopefully more Sith come to aid them. "See if you can't get this force cage down," he requested, turning to Atlas. "I'll break my bonds in a few moments, and then we can make our way out of here." With a deep breath he closed his eyes, letting his head hang loosely. His mind quickly retreated within itself as he entered a short period of meditation, blocking out all outside influence.

Maintaining your focus is the key to maintaining your strength. That was one of the first things the temple overseer had taught him when he first arrived for training, making sure he understood that meditation and focus were two of the foundation stones on which the rest of his abilities could be built. That thought at the forefront of his mind, Tsisaar reached deep within himself, pulling forth the constant roiling anger and loathing that suffused his existence, supplemented with absolute rage for the Anx and the position he was in. Through these emotions he accessed the Force, letting the energy flow through his tired muscles and body, suffusing him with strength to replace what he had lost; then with an angered roar he ripped his arms downwards and out, snapping out of his bindings with the Force.

Opening his eyes again he saw the forcefield was down; he calmly stepped over the ashes of the guards, walking to where the pair of Anx had dropped their weapons. Turning to Atlas, he picked up one of the electrostaffs, activating it with a simple flourish. "Lead the way," he said quietly, still inwardly seething with rage, with the last tenet of the Sith code prominent in his thoughts. The Force shall free me.

[member="Atlas Kane"]