Faction Frontier Justice | Sith Order

[Kaila Irons]

ECHNOS CITY​

Tag: Tamsin Graves Quinn Varanin | OPEN

Anathemous took to the stand again.

She'd not stood before a crowd on this planet since the ill fated coup, a shame she still bore to this day, despite her best efforts since. The people had been restless ever since, she knew, and their malcontent had been brewing, slowly, but surely. It started small, occasional anti-droid sentiments leading to crimes against imperial machines and offworlder cyborgs. Vandalism, a few assaults, things that had always been typical of the local culture. Individually, the incidents were child's play to stop, but lately the numbers had been adding up, recently one of her own commando droids had been forced to defend itself to lethal effect. Petty crime in a frontier city was one thing, but an attack on her personal guard?

Something was happening.

That's where Tamsin Graves came in. This was to be her ceremony as the newly appointed Marshal of Echnos City, the first step in a larger plan to combat crime and sniff out rebels.

"Crime has always been an inevitability which every governor must prepare for," she began.

"The Sith had already done an admirable job in stamping it out even before my arrival. They took a lawless city ruled by utter anarchy, and gave it shining new purpose. Under sith rule, we have driven back The Alliance and it's poisonous light. We have become ever vigilant guardians along the northern frontier, and a rising industrial power that continues to supply the mighty Second Legion with technology made by your own hands."

"This city is an asset to the Dark Council, and thus the whole of our great empire."

"Which is why I have renewed the Imperial crusade for order and security of this world." Anathemous gestured for Tamsin to take the stage beside her.

This would be good for her, she believed. As a sith apprentice, it was time for her student to begin laying the foundation of her own power base. And perhaps in doing so, burn out the rot in her undercity.

If only she knew how far it had spread...

The crowd gathering outside the hall, separated only by energy shields and armed guards, were growing restless. Weaving between the masses, disorderly souls who tired of Anathemous' risky behavior and irrationally afraid of being replaced by battle droids began to pass around crude ion-grenades. A few even carried explosives, using this distraction to advance upon the governor's manor.

But the commando droids, and sith who'd received open invitations to attend, stood ready for whatever may come.

"To this end, I am pleased to welcome my apprentice, Lady Tamsin Graves , to our office of law enforcement as the first official Marshal of Echnos city."

The crowd cheered as Anathemous welcomed Tamsin atop the stage. Most of them, at least. All the while, a pair of droids brought forth a badge which they presented to the governor, and a gun belt custom made to support blaster or lightsaber, with a distinctive buckle which marshal's wore across the galaxy.

"I trust this duty only to my loyal student, a veteran of several battles to expand the empire against rebel and Jedi alike. A faithful of the Eternalist Church, who embodies our imperial ideals, and the ideals of this city. I think of no better woman for this most sacred duty."

"In all matters, she will speak with my voice, and act with my will. May she be as the red blade which purges clean our world of disorderly intent, and the black shield against it's enemies."

Anathemous wore a faint smile, one she tried to hide from the cameras, as she pinned the badge to her apprentice's clothes.

"Try to look stoic for the camera, yes?" she whispered.

Then she looked up as the nearest shield gate flickered, then vanished entirely.

The crowd was now pouring in...

​

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Theme: Born For This
Outfit: Here
Equipment: Twin Omens | DE-10 | Combat Knife | Multi-Tool | Circlet of Projection
Tags: Kaila Irons | Quinn Varanin

​

Her body wanted to shake, and her feet wanted to run. Butterflies in the stomach was an understatement last two times she was on a stage all hell broke loose. It wasn't just that though, her master was giving her a great responsibility. The city had seen some unrest due some very unfortunate events, events that to some degree Tamsin blamed on the dark cloud that followed her. Despite Kaila telling her it wasn't her fault; she couldn't help but think in some other reality without her Kaila would be living the dream.

She listened to her sister address the crowd, though they cheered as Kaila made her announcement there was an uneasiness in the air. As she was gestured to, Tamsin took a single deep breath with her back to the crowd so they could see her doing so. Then she took one step in front of the other up on the stage. It seemed like a million miles and like everything was moving in slow motion as she made her way up on stage.

She came up next to her master's side, she kept a stoic expression on her face. Hiding her nerves that were spiking like pin pricks on the skin. Her body felt cold, which was odd she rarely ever felt cold, but it was just her mind messing with her. Better than the demon inside her playing its little games she thought, trying to calm herself internally.

It had to be a bit comical to those watching Tamsin standing next her sister, the height difference very noticeable. Still she kept the thought to herself, she wanted to make Kaila proud, she wanted to be Kaila's right hand on Echnos and help in anyway her master asked of her. So she stood there proudly at Kaila's side nerves killing her inside but pride also swelling in her chest.

She watched as a pair of droids brought forth her badge of service to the Marshals and a belt with a buckle with the marshal's insignia on it. As they did so she removed her saber from the other belt she was wearing handing to the droid holding the marshal's belt who holstered the weapon for her.

She listened as her sister spoke of her accolades and trust in her. Tamsin wanted to smile as Kaila presented her with the gifts of office, but she held it back as her sister leaned in and reminded her remain stoic. As the belt was put around her waist over top of her other belt that held her baster it almost hurt to not smile. She then wanted to hug her sister at that moment, but she held strong as the badge was pinned to her chest.

She bowed her head in respect to her sister and master as she did it felt like a spike had been driven into her skull. She clinched her teeth as she felt a low growl in the back of her head, the demon known as Sokar didn't like that. Still Tamsin manage to pull through only a small wince on her face to show she felt something, then she moved to the podium.

Don't stutter…don't stutter….don't stutter.She told herself mentally as she stepped up on the small stool hidden behind it.

"I Tamsin Graves pledge my blade and blood to this this office. I pledge my loyalty to Darth Anathemous, Echnos, and the Eternal church. I will defend Echnos and the Sith Order from the criminal and Rebel elements that create disharmony in our unity. I….." Her speech stopped as she saw the shield between them and the crowd fall, and the crowd began to move forward. Her eyes looked back and forth as she saw some not all begin to brandish weapons.

The droids were and security guards alike were quickly alerted to what was going on. She stood there for a second and she knew the flood gates were about to burst again.

"Wait." She said from the podium. "I know you are afraid, frustrated, and burdened. I swear to you, I will bring you justice for the wrongs done to you and ease the frustrations that plague you." They weren't listening as Tamsin tried to offer them an out and kept moving forward. Her hand went to her side next to her lightsaber as she again peered at the crowd. "Don't make more mistakes that could harm this world and our people more." They just looked at her like an outsider as she tried to think of more words that could stall them and tried to pinpoint any shot callers in the crowd. She wanted to look back at her master for advice but part of her knew that would be a sign of weakness and the sharks were circling.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Quo-Kissai Varkosh, the Silent Fang

The air curdled.

It was subtle at first. Just a creeping unease that slithered through the gathered mass like rot beneath the skin. Some had mistook it for fear, others took it for the weight of sheer anticipation, but it wasn't either. It was him. A coldness seeped into the very bones of those in the front lines of the crowd. The temperature hadn't dropped no, yet their very skin prickled with a chll that seemed to gnaw at their very bones. The air around them grew dense, pressing against lungs, making every breath they took feel like inhaling something thick and vile.

And then sound itself faltered.

The distant city noise dulled. The flickering hum of other energy shields warped. Voices that were once loud with outrage, seemed to soften as if the world had suddenly drawn back from them. The first man to feel it stumbled, his grip on an ion grenade once tight now loosened. Another inhaled sharply, but the breath never seemed to fully come to fruition within them. A woman had reached for the makeshift blaster at her hip, only to realize that her fingers were shaking too hard to close around it. Then came the deafening silence. This wasn't the silence of peace. Not the silence of hesitation. This was something else entirely, but the silence of the grave. It was from within this moment that he appeared.

A figure carved from the blackest pit of the void itself. His robes of shadowy silk whispered unnaturally, the runes along their hem shifting and twisting as though they were actually alive. The hem of the cloak moved like it was breathing, tapering into strands of something that wasn't quite fabric, but not quite flesh. The mask he wore was a grotesque mimicry of a Sith Pureblood's face, sunken and ridged, it lacked even the very illusion of eyes. Yet they knew he was looking at them. No he wasn't, he was looking through them. Past their flesh and into their failures, their cowardice, their weakness. A low, sickly pressure coiled in the stomachs of the weak-hearted, turning the very bile in their guts sour. Someone gagged. Another man clenched his teeth so hard he actually cracked a molar.

Still, Varkosh didn't move. He didn't draw his blades. He didn't raise his hand. He didn't need to. The very weight of his presence alone crushed the moment beneath its heel. The first man fell to his knees, eyes bulging in terror. He didn't exactly know why. Another let out a strangled sob, his own body twitching like it was a puppet that had its strings severed. Then, Varkosh spoke at last. But his voice did not carry in the air. It did not vibrate in their ears. It simply slithered into their minds. It was a whisper so cold, so violating, it did not feel like speech at all, but it felt like a parasite that was trying to burrow through their skulls. "You were dead the moment you stepped forward." Something inside one of them broke then at the very utterance of word.

A man turned, sprinting blindly, shoving past his comrades in a desperate attempt to flee, only for own legs to seize mid-stride. The scream he so desperately tried to utter never actually left his throat. He collapsed on the ground, convulsing, clawing at his flesh as if something had wormed its way in, and crept beneath its folds. The first gunshot rang out, not from Varkosh, not from the guards who faithfully served Darth Anathemous, but it came from the rioters themselves. In their blind panic, one man had turned on the other, driven to madness by something that was older than fear. The silence that consumed them all snapped. The air erupted into screams.

And then this mysterious figure, this shrouded horror, Varkosh…stepped forward.

Kaila Irons | Tamsin Graves | Quinn Varanin​

 

[Sable Varro]

​

Frontier Justice

Tag: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Quinn Varanin Darth Prazutis

Deployment Location:

• Primary Target Zone: [Echnos City]

Equipment Loadout:

• Primary Weapon(s): SD-L1 Long Blaster
• Secondary Weapon(s): HG-88 Big Iron, VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade,
• Specialized Gear: Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield,
• Armor & Attire: Personal Armor

---

---

​

Sable stood motionless near the speakers at the platform, her rifle braced against her shoulder. Her red visor dimly reflecting the flickering glow of firelight and protest signs below. The city was swelling with unrest—shouting voices thick with rage, the kind that didn't come down easily. Her scope traced over the crowd, picking up faces twisted in fury, fists raised high, improvised weapons clutched tight.

She didn't speak. She didn't need to.

Her jaw tensed as she watched the front ranks press forward. No discipline. Just heat and momentum. But deeper in the crowd, just past the second line, she caught it. Subtle hand gestures, eyes darting, heads nodding. Organizers. The ones with purpose beneath the chaos.

Her finger hovered near the trigger guard, not pressing—yet—but itching. The droids and guards were already bracing. Soon there would be a wall of bodies against a tide of flesh that didn't want to stop. Her range finder started, as Sable did math in her head. Calculating arcs, distance, wind. If this snapped, she'd know who to drop first.

A breath left her through her nose. Controlled. Steady.

It's building again, She muttered under her breath, voice low and quiet, just for herself. No one's listening… they're past that now.

She watched Tamsin's figure at the podium beside her—still trying to reach the people listening with words. Brave. Maybe naïve. But Sable could see the truth from here. The crowd wasn't just angry—they were ready to burn something.

And she knew: when the first blow landed, it wouldn't stop there.

This isn't a protest anymore, she thought grimly, it's a trigger waiting for a spark.

Her scope shifted again. Just in case.

Then she froze.

Sable's breath hitched.

Just for a second.

That curdling in the air—unnatural, wrong—it didn't need a comm signal or a visual confirmation. Her instincts screamed before her scope even caught the shift. Something ancient had slithered into the world, dragging silence and sickness in its wake. She watched, rifle frozen halfway through a sweep, as the crowd began to falter without a single shot fired.

The tremor in their movements. The way their bodies wilted. It was like watching a structure collapse from the inside out.

And then she saw him.

Her lens focused on the figure—no, the presence. A walking void draped in nightmare. Runes coiling like serpents along robes that shouldn't move that way. The mask—faceless, eyeless—but she felt its gaze even through the scope. She had seen this thing in her night terrors it felt.

She lowered her rifle slightly.

"...what in the void is that?" She murmured, to herself, her jaw tightening. Her mouth felt dry. Her trigger finger twitched, instinct begging for a target, a threat she could counter.

But this wasn't something she could shoot. She won’t shoot. Not until it was clearly needed.

Her eyes tracked the panic—riot turning to riot within itself now. Men clawing at their own flesh. Weapons discharged in blind terror. That wasn't control. That wasn't fear.

That was collapse.

She watched as Varkosh stepped forward, not with the gait of a man, but with the inevitability of a guillotine's fall. Every step he took was a pronouncement. Every footfall a sermon in dread. And Sable knew—this was the true beginning. Whatever this protest had once been, whatever message they'd tried to send—it had just been swallowed by something far older, far crueler.

She exhaled through clenched teeth, rifle rising again on reflex, as she felt herself struggle to lower it.

Like Bantha to the slaughter.

She winced as that voice taunted her.

She felt her trigger finger falter shifting from her firing position, straining to not pull back-

She managed, for now. Letting her rifle drop with a bit more difficulty than she intended.

It may have only been for a few moments, but to Sable, it felt longer.

"If this turns into a slaughter…" she muttered, mostly to herself, "It won’t be over nerves…."

But beneath that icy calm, a thought gnawed at her—one she didn't want to say out loud.

If he looks over here… I'm not sure I'll be able to move.

Always limiting yourself…no wonder you serve.

The voices in her head seemed to be getting louder now.

She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Tags: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Darth Prazutis Alana Calloway

Lirka hated police.

She hated detectives.

She hated marshals.

Law and order were pretty words to preach but to the Once-Sephi they were synonymous with "massive headache". Crime ran in Lirka's veins, it was how she had gotten her start in the Galaxy in a different time, and with a different face. And depending on who you asked, she had committed crimes against life itself to get herself where she was within the confines of the Kainate.

And when crime flowed through your veins, it paid greatly to be informed of the important law men and women about. She had already gotten herself plenty well acquainted with the detective Trayze Tesar and she had come to rather loathe the man - but today was a day for a new marshal of the law. Not Lirka's long list of rivals and enemies. The name Tamsin Graves meant very little to Lirka on its own, she admittedly knew very few Sith in the great swath of Sith-Imperial space. But that is why her little appearances like this became all the more important, another name to jot down in her brain and consider.

Lirka half listened to the speech Kaila Irons gave. It was a quaint enough thing - yet Lirka was infinitely more interested in the rancor going on outside the shield wall. She could taste murderous intent in the air, and it was a beautiful thing. That is what these law-people didn't understand; the riotous rancor of the crowd was what the very foundation of the Galaxy was built upon, just another step down the entropic path of Primordial Darkness. Besides, it was the butchery that followed that would prove to Lirka just how much she needed to consider these two, and more importantly, the diminutive new marshal of Echnos. Once Lirka saw the shield fall, she knew that chance would finally arrive.

It was with a great frown that she listened to the Marshal, really? A call for peace? How pitiful. Giving only the slightest shake of her head, Lirka turned to face the oncoming storm of anti-droid protestors. With great amusement, a not inconsiderable amount of hatred thrown towards the direction of the rather droid-like appearance of the Once-Sephi. Though she remained a silent sentinel for now, for something far more interesting had happened.

The arrival of Varkosh. Heralded by the anarchic death that only those beings of deep darkness could muster, the sort of unnatural evil that Lirka had surrounded herself with for so many years. Others recoiled in fear, disgust, at things most unnatural. But Lirka felt welcomed by it, the tingle of cold matched by the warm bubbling in her hearts. True power. A reminder of that which she chased. Lirka heard the hiss of a blaster, and another shout in her general direction by those few that hadn't been utterly destroyed by terror.

She merely shrugged, well, certainly made this more interesting. With long, patient, strides she stepped forward: looming before the first of the rioters, and with a swing of a mighty metal fist the poor sod crumpled to the ground with the side of his head caved in. These whelps didn't deserve the blade, not yet. Lirka finally spoke, grim amusement oozing from her.

"Good. I was getting bored of speeches.:

Now this? This was far more her style.

 

[Cerria Desyk]

Tags: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Darth Prazutis Sable Varro Lirka Ka

Cerria was waiting in the wings with her regiment; they'd been recently plucked from the Empire of The Lost's collapsing government and brought into the fold of the Sith Order's Null Leigon. Trouble had been expected at the inauguration of the new marshal, and since the Dragoons were properly trained in riot suppression and had even been picked up with all their riot control gear in hand, they had been dropped here to provide support for the units already on station.

"These might be different people than we're used to dealing with, but the protocol is the same: break up groups, drive them back into the city, and restrain them for pickup by local law enforcement." Cerria said to her troops, doing her best to keep them from getting freaked out like she was just under the surface.

Before she could get any deeper into the abrivited briefing, there was a scream from off in the distance, then more, then a blaster shot, then more screaming.

"GO! GO! GO!" Cerria shouted into her armour's commset, and the troops surrounding her rushed forward.

They had riot shields locked together, while the second rank of troopers had stun batons ready to reach around and shock those who pressed up against the plastiod shields, while the rest of the troops were ready to move in envlopment maneuvers, fill gaps as needed, or throw tear gas grenades. As they came out of side streets around the demonstration, Cerria looked and got a proper view of what was going on as one of her troopers sent a canister of Tear Gas spinning into the crowd, disrupting the flow of the riots as they moved to avoid the gas billowing out from that container and several others now being deployed by the Dragoons. At least one large armoured figure had waded into the crowd and turned half of one of the protester's heads into a messy pulp and one horrific creature that seemed to be made out of pure malice and almost made Cerria want to vomit under her rebreather as she looked at it. Something twisted deep in her soul as she forced herself to look at the whole crowd again, including the guards and commando droids that were the main force protecting the VIPs.

This was shaping up to be much worse than a riot, this was shaping up to be a massacre, and Cerria was hoping that she wasn't too powerless to divert this to a less blood soaked path.

 

[Feyd 'TK-1312']

---

Location: crowd's edge | Tag: OPEN
Mentioned: Cerria Desyk Darth Prazutis Tamsin Graves

​

"So remind me what the bloody hell I'm doing here?" Feyd hissed into the comms.

She was in the thick of it, or about to be at least, ducking through the edge of the crowd, only ever peeking up long enough to see where she was going. To the average onlooker she looked like any other protester, being shoved haplessly forward by the real rioters, lest she be crushed between this human hammer against the plastoid anvil ahead. Little did they know just how deliberately placed the young chiss really was.

<Sssimple; governor's security is busssy out here. Plug your sslicer magic into the door, sssteal her data, sssell it.>

"Ugh, that's not what I mean!" she scoffed at the trandoshan.

Honestly, the bounty hunter had gotten her into more trouble since working for him than anyone else on this blasted rock, but she needed the credits.

"I mean, why am I the one down here?"

<You're the only that needsss to be, for now. Less risssky.>

Feyd scoffed and continued to slip through. There was a passage up ahead, one of two entrances to the governor's manor that servants used so as not to disturb "important" company. It hadn't seen much use since Darth Anathemous came into power, her predecessor having been personally beheaded by Darth Carnifex, or so they said, but it still had a couple guards.

But the crowd between her and the door was chaotic. On one side she could hear the screams and now even gunshots as sith descended on the crowd like carrion feeders, causing the young chiss to gulp, and pray to whatever gods might listen that the cloaked ones would stay on that end of the crowd.

As she neared the stage however, another immediate threat made itself known.

Armored troopers were rushing onto the scene and forming a shield wall between herself and the door.

"Fissk?!"

<I ssee 'em. Put your massk on while I work.>

She did, right before a tear gas cannister began spraying the rioters next to her, leaving them in a coughing fit while she ran passed. Meanwhile the Trandoshan carefully slid away the ceiling vent cover he was hiding behind, dropping one of the local Echnosian troopers at the formation's edge with a suppressed slug pistol.

"Chit!" Feyd ducked on instinct.

"I thought you could stun them?!"

<If I wanted.>

"You know how much trouble we could get into for killing imps?!"

<Only if caught. Keep moving.>

Feyd looked back, only to realize there was no path out through that crowd now that it was packed so tightly. She had no choice but to press forward and hope Fissk could keep the path clear long enough to get rich and get the frak out.



"This had better be worth it..."

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Theme: Born For This
Outfit: Here
Equipment: Twin Omens | DE-10 | Combat Knife | Multi-Tool | Circlet of Projection
Tags: Kaila Irons | Quinn Varanin | Darth Prazutis | Sable Varro | Lirka Ka | Cerria Desyk | Feyd 'TK-1312'

​

Tamsin looked out on the crowd that would not back down, the crowd that would not listen to her words. Her hand trembled at her side behind the podium itching to pull her saber. She then side stepped down from the podium and started to move forward towards the edge stage where ethe stairs were.

The dimuntive figure began to stalk down the steps, her eyes remaining on the crowd in front of her that would not listen. Every time she was on a stage, in front of a crowd hell seemed to break loose and the flood gates of chaos opened.

She heard someone scream and run in terror, but all she saw was a head in the crowd seemingly stumbling and falling to the ground afraid of something. Yes, she could feel fear trying to wash over the crowd, but these people were already afraid. Afraid of a future they could not control an uncertainty of survivability. Not all of them would run so easily, they would choose to stand fight.

As she made her way down the stage the null legion jumped into action with their riot gear and shields starting to form a line to push the rioters at the gate back. Tamsin calmly pulled her saber from her belt into her right hand.

Her dark eyes not for a second pulling from the crowd in front of her. Her eyes showing, she felt bad for these people on some level. She wasn't the hardened sith of her master or the cruel dark shadow of the demon inside her. She couldn't help feeling bad for these people because she understood their fear and the reason they wanted to fight.

Her first day on the job, it just had to be the hardest that was her life she thought. Her words would not stop them, they would not calm them. Chaos was their poison and her weapon, she could feel it rising in her core and the monster inside her feeding off it.

She looked at the crowd and they looked back at her as she ignited her saber with the snap-hiss of violent violet. A few rioters at the front stepped back but more let loose ion grenades for the droids over the riot shield of the Null forces. Others let loose molotov cocktail cocktails some over the riot shields and others right into the null force shields.

Grenades and fire bombs hitting the stage, in an instant the place went from anger to full blown rebellion as banners caught fire and a few droids dropped from the gernages the crowds pushed hard against the null and Echnosian forces.

Then in an instant other weapons of blasters, knives, and just fists began to fly at the troops as they pushed for the stage. The crowd, wild unorganized chaos and fury of people, even those who had been there to peacefully protest began to fall in like all riots it began to spread to the masses.

Tamsin tried to spot some leaders, thinking to put this down quickly but she couldn't spot any they all seemed to just be mad hatters no one really in charge. Fires starting around her, blaster fire and screaming in the air all around her. The dark Omen stalked forward as a small break in the line began to form and rioters began to push through.

"I will not let you bring disorder to Echnos!" She shouted as a single rioter rushed for her at the front of the stage. She didn't want to do it, but they had left her with no choice. Her saber came up and with a fast strike from right to left she gutted the first rioter to reach her. She didn't have time to think about it, but for the first time Tamsin had blood on her hands, her innocence was gone in that moment. The rioter dropped to the ground, as the next came to challenge her. She reached up with her left hand a fired a force blast at those rushing her knocking them back. "Legions! If they do not stop, if you cannot suppress them, you may use lethal force until they disperse."

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Quo-Kissai Varkosh, the Silent Fang

The moment Tamsin's order of lethal force was given, it was already over.

The first body had collapsed at Tamsin's feet, his death instantaneous, his body crumpling without so much as a whimper. It wasn't just the mark of the very first kill, but the sign that all hope had already been snuffed out. The riot was already dead before it had even begun, it was a blood-soaked page in the history of Echnos. The people here couldn't stop themselves now, not when the air was thick with the burning of banners, the crackling of energy shields, and the agonized cries of the dying. The rioters had become nothing but chaff awaiting the reaping, their fear was palpable and irreversible.

Finally, Varkosh moved. The Shikkari didn't rush forward, he didn't even need to. He didn't need to push, shout, or bark commands. He wasn't part of this fray, he was merely the shadow that moved through all of it. He was the living omen of death itself. A shadow that cast against the light of this futile resistance to order. The cloak, woven from shadow-silk, didn't stir in the wind, it seemed to breathe with the very darkness itself, shifting, undulating as if the cloth had a mind of its own. The war-mask, a grotesque imitation of a Sith Pureblood's face, was a blank expressionless face, yet it haunted them all. There were no eyes to pierce their souls, but every single one of them knew, they knew, that Varkosh was watching. The figure's presence devoured their courage.

He didn't need to strike a single blow to render the masses paralyzed with terror. His very being caused their own bodies to betray them. One of the rioters, a man brave enough to raise a blaster, never fired. His hand froze mid-motion, as though time itself had taken notice of his deliberate disobedience. The man's own body betrayed him, his muscles locked up, his breath caught in his throat. He fell to his knees, eyes pulled wide open with sheer terrr, but still, he couldn't move. The scream that tried desperately to tear itself from his throat was reduced to a mere whisper of horror before his body slumped lifelessly into the dirt, his hand still clung to his weapon almost as if it could somehow help him. The rioter was dead, without so much as a mrk, his life snuffed out the very moment he came into contact with Varkosh's fell presence.

A second rioter had tried to run, perhaps in the desperate, futile hope that by fleeing the shadow, he would be spared. But as his feet attempted to push against the ground and carry him away, his legs locked up, his movements faltered like an animal that found itself caught in a trap. The rioter's body twitched unnaturally, his lungs gasping for air, but they received nothing. The man let out a strangled cry, one that wasn't heard, because he couldn't make a sound that could escape the suffocating grip of the assassin. His fingers, trembling with desperation, clawed frantically at his own throat, but no matter how hard he fought against it, nothing else moved. The very last thing he saw was that same eyeless mask, unblinking, unfeeling, and yet so full of condemnation, full of judgement. The light of life had faded from his eyes the moment the shadow passed over him.

Wherever Varkosh moved, the battle died before it even began like the curtain call of a play coming to conclusion. The Sith's mere presence caused the force of life to falter, the very soul of the mob was crumbling into hopelessness. Their very bodies became puppets, their strings broken, their minds had snapped like twigs beneath the weight of his malevolent aura. The Sith's footfalls didn't echo, but they resonated with a silent, oppressive certainty of finality itself, the death knell of their futile uprising. He didn't need to cut them down with a blade, didn't need to pull them from their sheaths. He didn't even need to raise his hand in anger, he didn't need to fiht them. The battle itself had already been won before the first shot had been fired. This was why he was appointed the command of his own cell, why he was christened with the mantle of Silent Fang of the Dark Lord. He was the very end of hope, the culmination of their destruction. The terror they felt wasn't born of physical harm, but it was the realization that they were nothing more than prey to him now. They were marked for death, fates long sealed before the first step was even taken towards rebellion.

Tamsin's order of lethal force to all had simply signed their death warrants, but Varkosh had already determined the moment when life would leave them. His presence, like the very weight of the grave itself, had come to collect. Now, the riot would end, it would soon come not in a clashing of forces, but he would ensure it came in the horrible stillness that followed a terrible slaughter. It was not over because a command had been issued by the Marshal. It was over because the Kainate had sent him, and his very presence would it to be so. The streets littered with the corpses of the weak, their bodies a testament to the overwhelming power that fear possessed. The message had been sent. The lesson learned. The mob had gouged like a blade plunged into a stomach and torn open, spilling its contents to all. In the distance, Tamsin and Lirka moved through the carnage, their steps guided by the weight of the empire they represented, the factions they clung to, but all would know, every action that Varkosh took, it was the will of the Dyarchy.

Tamsin Graves | Kaila Irons | Sable Varro | Lirka Ka | Cerria Desyk | Feyd 'TK-1312' ​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Tag: Tamsin Graves Darth Prazutis Cerria Desyk Sable Varro Lirka Ka Feyd 'TK-1312'

Anathemous stood at the stage edge like a looming specter over the crowd, fingers laced behind her back in a way that might have looked unthreatening were she anyone else.

Her eerie calm belied the pedantic intake of information as her eyes darted across the soon to be battlefield too quickly for the outside observer to determine rhyme nor reason. Every face twisted in horror, movement of bat or baton as she searched for weapons, and every gesture as she searched for leaders and agitators. Nothing in this city escaped her notice, not for long.


Varkosh had been on the young Darth's radar from the moment of his arrival. His lack of hesitation to begin destroying her people was one thing, but his failure to seek her approval nor that of her apprentice painted a very clear picture in her mind. The death masked assassin moved with an air of finality as if doing the work of some dark god, and she had an idea of exactly which.

His aura reeked of the Kainate, a scent she knew well.

Tamsin Graves tried, bless her heart, to settle the crowd, but the Kainites had already turned this riot into a bloodbath, it was beyond saving. To her surprise however, the young Dathomiri's rage cooled into an icy focus which would serve her well, and the Marshal began taking command of the situation.

Excellent. It was to be a learning experience then, and Tamsin played her part well.

<<...very good...>> she spoke to her apprentice through the force, her voice but a psychic whisper, yet it won over the chaos.

<<...they are all, even the legionnaires, yours to command. use them wisely...>>


The soldiers commanded by Cerria Desyk were a boon to be sure, the shield wall forming just in time to halt the majority even if a few stragglers had already slipped past, though most were being dealt with by Tamsin or Anathemous' own droid guard, who opened up with stun beams when possible.

Still, she watched one of the droids fall to an ion grenade, the assailant rushing forward seconds later. The man stopped in his tracks, dazed, confused, lifting slowly off the ground. Anathemous had barely lifted a hand from her side, hardly even curled a finger to grip his body and root it in place. But roots were stubborn, it seemed, for in his desperation the man produced a small, chrome sphere from his pocket. A thermal detonator.

Anathemous tore the device from his hand and flung it away towards the furthest corner she could manage with the force. In her bid to preserve the lives of her own however, the grenade had detonated before the second shield gate, reducing the controls to molten slag. This time armed criminals from the undercity joined the fray, a particular gang that should have been on her payroll.

"Agh." she grunted in annoyance when they began taking pot shots at the guards.

She stepped forward then, taking up on of the discard stun guns and firing it into would be grenadier as she marched towards the newly opened gate.

"Tamsin! this flank is yours, I will take the newest guests."

Kaila and her droids began then approached their challengers, soon to join Varkosh and the other Kainites no doubt.

​

 

[Khal'vyssa]

Location: Echnos City - Echnos
Objective: Monitor the Riots
Tag: Darth Prazutis Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Lirka Ka Cerria Desyk
Direct Mention: Feyd 'TK-1312'

A small figure cloaked in shifting shadow gazed upon the disorder from an elevated alcove. Balanced on the ridge of the structure, her form melded into the backdrop even as her icy-hued eyes lit up with dangerous intent. With the deployment of a small task force of Shikkari to Echnos City, Khal’vyssa had been tasked with observing the crowds. Although the Echani had hoped to be assigned more for her first mission, she had no intention of performing poorly or shirking her responsibility.

Thus unlike the overt, fear-inducing horror that was the Silent Fang, Khal’vyssa remained a shroud. Her trained gaze scanned across the crowd for agitators, figureheads, and initiators, all whom she silently catalogued and marked to her memory.

However, there was one particular individual who Khal’vyssa spotted at the edge of the crowd that immediately caught her attention.

It was a female Chiss who moved with purpose, rather than anger. In that, the stark contrast of her physical disposition as compared to the rest of the rioters made her stand out to Khal’vyssa like a splash of neon paint on the facade of a grey-toned building. Brows snapping together, she watched as the Chiss made her way towards the stage before armored Null Legion troopers moved to corral the raging crowd.

All but the Chiss.

She slipped past them, doing so just as a Echnosian trooper was dropped by a silenced weapon, the body collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. Khal’vyssa’s eyes went wide, at which point she instinctively reached for one of her throwing blades.

However, features twitching with restraint, Khal’vyssa refrained from grabbing a blade. Instead, she stepped out from the alcove, before immersing herself within the crowd as she moved to tail after her chosen quarry.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Echnos
Attire: Assassin Gear
Equipment: Vibro-daggers, Vibro-sword, blaster pistol, Mask
Tag: Sable Varro

Eira had made the travel to Echnos, not to see Kaila, she still wasn't sure what page she was with the Sith Knight. It was a more positive one, but Eira was never going to assume they were friends once again unless Kaila informed her. It was a complicated and bizarre relationship to be in since it was due to Quinn Varanin that Eira had even been forced to reveal a side of herself that Eira had intended to never show Kaila. Eira had sworn after the dance on Korriban that she would be icy cold to the other Sith but Quinn had positioned her in situations where she had to be friendlier, to demonstrate the emotions that Kaila had wanted when they were dating.

Which had shown to Kaila that she was not as manipulative as she acted, it was more a front to hide the terrifying actual emotions she felt, unprepared.

For now though, Eira was here to support her friend in Tamsin Graves . A promotion in rank and increase in power was a good thing to see. Tamsin was someone that Eira enjoyed the company of, and seeing the other woman climbing the ladder of power was a good sign. It demonstrated that Tamsin was worthy of the friendship, not someone who would be dragging Eira down, but she was also someone to keep an eye on. All those who were successful in the Order, who were growing in power were dangerous oppositions that Eira respected but also needed to keep an eye on.

It was the way of the Sith. Eira just also intended to demonstrate that she could support and celebrate such growth while keeping a silent observation of the ever moving chess board.

However, as Eira listened to the beginnings of Tamsin's speech, there seemed to be a disturbance. Protestors, unrest in this moment that was besmirching her friend's achievement. Something that Eira would not find forgivable. Pulling out the daggers, Eira intended to put to silence these protestors and demonstrate what happens when you interrupt the Sith in their glory.

Spotting a soldier with a finger hovering over their trigger, Eira approached with a growing growl in her throat. "This is not a time for hesitation. Either stun or put down. But do nothing and people will be harmed." Eira growled to the soldier, not realising who it was that she was speaking with in that moment as the glowing red eyes of her mask stared at the soldier.

 

[Cerria Desyk]

Tags: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Darth Prazutis Sable Varro Lirka Ka Eira Dyn Khal'vyssa Feyd 'TK-1312'

"LETHAL FORCE IS NOT AUTHORIZED! I REPEAT LETHAL FORCE IS NOT AUTHORIZED!" Cerria screamed into her comms, she didn't care what the others were going to do, but the protesters needed an easy way out, at least the legitimate ones, and she didn't want her troops accidentally shooting civilians just showing their distaste for the government.

The other reason is even though killing was part of the job she didn't want her or her troops to be part of a massacre of mostly unarmed civilians. She thought for a moment, assuming that it was probably best if her troops did what they could to separate the legitimate protesters from the violent elements hiding within the crowd. Cerria just hoped that whatever power-hungry Sith were around didn't decide that they needed to push the crowd even harder by stepping in and getting few kill for themselves, if that happened she might have to figure out how many stun grenades a Side could resist while fighting to keep both sides from killing each other.

 

[Sable Varro]

​

Frontier Justice

Tag: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves Darth Prazutis Eira Dyn

Deployment Location:

• Primary Target Zone: [Echnos City]

Equipment Loadout:

• Primary Weapon(s): SD-L1 Long Blaster
• Secondary Weapon(s): HG-88 Big Iron, VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade,
• Specialized Gear: Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield,
• Armor & Attire: Personal Armor

---

---

​

The voice came sharp, commanding, edged with menace. A tone meant to make a soldier jump.

Sable didn't.

She turned her head, slow and deliberate, just enough for the red glow of her visor to meet the mask staring her down. Her hand stayed near her rifle's trigger, steady, precise. Controlled.

The old reflex tugged at her gut before her mind caught up. The stance, the presence, tugged at her mind. Familiarity beckoned, and she dug her heels in to resist its pull. She thought these memories were gone

But she had merely buried them. Deep. But still able to be touched.

No recognition touched her body language, no change in stance. Just a slow, unreadable stare behind that mask.

"Apologies." She said flatly, voice distorted by the filter in her helmet, low and dry. "I was waiting for the orders to be given."

The outbreak of violence signaled to her of what was to be done. Her hand didn't leave the weapon, but neither did it twitch. She locked onto her target, aiming for the limbs.

She felt her stomach churn at the thought, felt the hand on her trigger twitch, wanting to engage the safety.

You’ll kill them.

A small part of her attempted to argue.

If they’re not willing to die for their cause, they don’t deserve to live under us.
Came the retort.

It was only potentially fatal, but the display or removing a limb or two may put some genuine fear back into these people. It seemed reasonable enough; and just like that, she felt her apprehension fade.

She fired away.

"They should know better," She added, tone cool, professional. Guarded. "They know who they’re fighting against. The futility of it all…."

She gave pause, a flicker too long. There was something unspoken pressed at the edges of her voice, almost too quiet to catch. But she felt…dirty.

That familiarity stung at the back of her mind like a Bacian blood hornet. A distraction that she didn’t need, as she fired into the group of approaching rioters. Several limbs, arms, legs, an ear or two, all severed by her shots.

She refused the urge to face the phantom to her side head on. There was a flicker of instinct still tugging at her spine. The familiarity she refused to name.

She wouldn't look again. Wouldn't let it rise. But the echo of the past lingered like an ill omen wishing to be recognized for the curse it was.

She had more important things to do right now.