Gateway Lost [ TSE Dominion of Ziost ]

[Syss Rembala]

Location: Outside New Adasta
Objective: 1. Protect New Adasta from the slumbering butchers.
Allies: [member="Darth Morbian"]
Enemies: Slumbering butchers

The Darkness of the Force was gathering tightly inside her, nestling itself in her very center of self as though it knew it would be soon called upon, wielded through the organic limbs as its powerful, torrid nature solidified in a series of movements, kinetic modifications of the space around her, manifestations of an all-present power that the Umbaran wished to see consumed in red, spreading through the whole galaxy until everyone worshiped it with the same devotion than herself.

The skin under her black robes sizzled for a second upon listening her name on the lips of the Knight, a reaction not uncommon in her when being called to attention, her whole body responding to that characteristic set of sounds out of habit. A dark brow arched ever so slightly on her features as she assessed the question produced by Darth Morbian. She felt a slight pang of pride grab at her chest, though it dissipated before any words reached her tongue. "I am under the teachings of Darth Ananta, Darth Morbian." once again, that tone in her voice remained courteous and composed, answering the inquiry with honesty and measure, even as her white eyes caught sight of the crazed butchers approaching the city in a torrid, heavily unstable march. She shared a certain discontent with Morbian, though instigated by a different reason. The fact they could not feel mad the task of killing distasteful to the Knight, the fact they were simply senseless, irrational beings annoyed her. There was nothing like seeing a full, conscious mind shut off a mere distance away from one.

 

[Darth Bellum]

​

Location | Arriving on Ziost
Objective | Secure New Adasta
Company | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Morbian"] | [member="Syss Rembala"]

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A large transport filled with TSE soldiers made its way down to the surface of Ziost, making its way to its capital of New Adasta. The transport that Vexen was on would be among the first to lead the vanguard to secure the city, deploying within the city limits in a large open area to land. The ramp would lower as the waning sunlight filled the once dark interior, gleaming off the towering Anzati's armored figure. The echoing thuds of boots could be heard as they filed out in droves from the transport, setting up a perimeter around their landing zone, all while Vexen slowly strode out in his typical dramatic fashion, his cape billowing behind him as he walked with swagger and authority. Ziost was to be brought under their control and continue to pave the way for the Sith Empire. None would stand between him and helping to realize that goal.

The world oozed of the Dark Side, a feeling that only filled Vexen with a desire for power and knowledge, yet there were none to indulge either. A shame, but not one that would impact his performance and function in reclaiming the planet that the Sith once called home. His armored boots would set foot on solid ground as the shuttle's ramp had raised itself and it took off, leaving the Sith Knight and his men to hunker down and set up a preliminary outpost within the city. He was not alone; Darth Carnifex had already landed with his Blackblade Guard to reclaim a target. A few other Sith were in the vicinity, but Vexen decided to focus on his own objectives; Secure New Adasta.

The air was frigid and cold, his men setting up fortifications around the area and setting up communications for Sith forces to relay information back to one another. Additional relays would have to be set up to extend communication range, but for now, what was installed would have to suffice. It would not be long before their presence was detected and acknowledged. First, they came in small numbers, then larger groups. Blaster fire could be heard as the soldiers did their best to hold the line, Vexen himself igniting his crimson blade as he made his way to the forefront. They chanted and droned, like mindless puppets as they threw themselves at Vexen and his men only to fall. The voices would not cease, they would not end, only growing louder.

Vexen was not in the slightest bit pleased by these events. They were now an obstacle in his way of securing the city. One he would need to find the source of and crush so that the rest of the reclamation efforts would go without delay. A swing of his arm and a slumbering butcher was brought to the ground in two, another one finding itself impaled on Vexen's saber before being unceremoniously kicked off. It was a massacre, to say the least, but one that did not hold much weight to Vexen. They were mindless husks that gave him no thrill nor joy in slaying.

 

[Zmej Ren]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=budMyjUb5ws​

Location: Ziost, tomb
Objective: 4
Allies: TBA
Enemies: TBA

​

The Supreme Leader desired powerful artifacts and blasphemous secrets of the Sith and she intended to be the one to deliver them, no matter the cost. After paying Ziost a visit for the first time and encountering a long lost sister, Zmej Ren had decided to stay for a bit, knowing another opportunity to scour the world would likely be lost to either Sith or Jedi. Wandering the frozen wasteland has been exhausting, testing the young woman's strength and will to succeed, but ultimately rewarding. One only needed to listen to the dark side’s whispers – stumbling upon a frozen entrance into the world of ancient Sith was no accident, even if logic begged to differ. The Sith of old, although dead, weren’t completely powerless – their spirits had a way of manipulating power-hungry fools into discovering forbidden knowledge and doom.

Two thundering booms of her anti-material rifle and there was nothing to stand in her way, granting Zmej free access inside this buried structure that pretended to be just another formation of rocks and ice on the outside. Unceremoniously leaving the frozen entrance in shattered pieces, Zmej pushed herself through the hole, escaping the snow and cold as she appeared in a dark, descending tunnel. Shivers ran down her spine as she imagined what awaited at the end, sensing a chance at unearthing something worthwhile. Lust for fame and glory urged Zmej to continue despite her momentary hesitation. The call of darkness soon proved way too tempting for the young dark side devotee and she ventured further in, wrapping the Force around herself in defensive manner. Fortunately enough, her helmet faced little trouble when navigating through the oppressive world of shadows.

Walking away from the daylight reminded Zmej of her previous discovery with Isla, although now she was completely positive these corridors have been carved out by sentient hands. Frescos and writings covered the walls, undoubtedly telling an interesting story – but the knight did not understand ancient Sith, thus walked by without grasping the true meaning and purpose of this structure. Once again, she found herself thankful for the helmet, making sure to record and document every single detail for later analysis as she advanced forth, braving the deafening silence.

And there it was. The way opened into a massive room full of pointed archs and rob vaults. A burial chamber by the looks of it, with monumental columns preventing Ziost’s weight from coming down and burying the preserved piece of history for eternity. Bones and rags that used to be majestic pieces of apparel lined the red-hued walls, each corpse neatly deposited into its own alcove. In the middle of the chamber sat an oversized coffin, a sarcophagus worthy a king. Dark stains painting its top strongly hinted towards the slab’s use as a sacrificial altar as well. Zmej wasn’t familiar enough with Sith history to tell for certain, yet the call of darkness coming from the centre was impossible to ignore. Gulping, she approached the dominant sarcophagus, plate boots carefully treading the stone floor before she put the rifle down to free her hands. Muscles flexed, and she channelled the dark side’s might through her body to telekinetically remove the lid and disturb whoever slumbered within.

This wasn't be the first time she stole from the Sith, living or dead.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

ZIOST
Volkorion Station

The Erudite kept its place in orbit, surrounded by other ships of the Sith Imperial fleet, while Darth Ophidia made her descent upon the planet. For once, she did not make her descent in her infiltrator, nor was she alone: This was a large-scale incursion for the dominion of Ziost, the Legion would not be an obstacle, rather a boon.

“Congratulations on your promotion, Commander Barlan. I trust you feel up for the task?”

The Mirialan answered the question with a confident smile and the ‘click’ of her blaster as it was armed, ready, and set to lethal function.

“We will have your back, my Lord. They won’t know what hit them.”

The Rattataki Sith Lord gave Barlan a wry smile and turned away as she put the helmet on her bare crown. She could feel the inertia of their shuttle slow, forcing her to shift her weight as a countermeasure. They were coming in to Volkorion Station. Barlan was the first to step off, but she did so with keen eyes weighing the emptiness of the station. Darth Ophidia was the last to jump out while the troops were filing up.

Barlan greeted the officer on the perimeter of the station and handed him their identification. Meanwhile, the Pale Assassin closed her eyes and opened herself to the sensations of Volkorion Station.

There was a silence to this place: Not like that of sheer emptiness. Rather, it was like that of a breath held for a second too long; it was strained, desperate, and completely unwilling to yield. After a few seconds of probing, she could feel a movement. It was like an itch seeking the relief of a scratch. But was she the itch or the scratch?

“Pass!”

The perimeter officer signalled for them to move through the outer blockade. A blastdoor opened with a yawning blackness, broken only by glowing sigils of red: Indiscernible at first glance.

 

[NightSister]

[member="Atlas Kane"]

Funnily, this was her first time on Ziost.

Less funnily, it was being spent marching through a storm.

Of course, Aria didn’t mind discomfort. It was a lot of wind and a lot of noise, and that was really as far as it went. In a way the shriek of stormy voices intrigued her, made a welcome distraction, something to fixate on. Aria was fascinated with the strange, coveted the other, and the uncanny wrongness of voices in her ears wasn’t new but it was novel enough to hold her attention.

Besides, the premise of where they were going was enough to make up for some inconvenience. A storm that had gathered to ring Ajunta’s Citadel of all places with voices that howled. Aria was a creature of curiosity, certainly enough to be intrigued.

Between the voices that this mystery storm had thrown into her head and the ones that lived there, Aria was satisfied there was more than enough noise. But she had ended up braving this mission with a companion, and she had to communicate somehow.

“Not...far now,” she grunted, struggling to raise her voice. “I can feel it.”
He’d just about hear her, but amidst everything she was only just sure she had spoken at all.

 

[Jack Holland]

Z I O S T​

​

It was his first true excursion with the new sovereigns of this space.

Howling winds crying for death and destruction. Mindless men lumbered towards them, hands outstretched with a never ending snarl upon their lips: We are endless. It was unnerving to say the least, but a few walking warriors were made short work of. It was mostly the Blackblades' handiwork in exterminating these endless pockets of resistance but Major Holland was proud to say that he and his lads had lent quite a hand thus far.

They were still unproven. Both in ferocity and loyalty. Changing that fact was the reason he was here today. It was a volunteer assignment that called for only the best and most determined souls. So, he saw his boys perfect fits for the mission requirements and got the logistics and transport matters settled in just a few hours.

"Alden," he called for his platoon sergeant, "Maintain formation. Hold the line."

He saw a hand wave at the head of the column - an affirmation.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective: Make Your Own Story

"How interesting," she mused aloud, staring up at the slowly turning Sithspawn that was ensnared in her grip. The Monolith she was observing was unlike most other creations of the Sith that had a physical form. Typically, a Sith would twist and warp some poor hapless creature to suit their needs. She had done so on multiple occasions, creating a vast array of Sithspawn. What she was observing now was an avenue she had never thought could be pursued.

A twirl of her hand and a new spell surrounded the monster, its roars of agony not disrupting her careful study of the creature. Made purely from the dark side, not a single piece of evidence suggesting that Vitiate had crafted them from another creature. This was her third specimen, and by far the largest, but she had heard rumors that they had once been seen even larger before. In the creature's feeble mind, she was able to extract a few fleeting memories of its creations, nothing more than blurred images and pain, but she could catch a glimpse of an even larger specimen being developed.

It remembered... the power of its master... and ah that would explain it. The stronger he became, the larger he could make these beings born purely of the dark side.

"Nutki iw niyikada qorit wurai," she intoned. The monster fell to the ground heavily, trapped in a spell of endless sleep. With a gesture, two of her attendants made to start moving the monster to where the other specimens were being prepped for offworld transport. She would be very interested to start the dissection phase of her studies of them. Perhaps they would give her additional insights into their creation so the process might be replicated.

"We're moving on," she ordered. "There are a few sites I wish to check that may contain remnants of his ritual."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Objective 2: Storm The Castle

│ [member="Vereshin"] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Aria Vale"] │

The music blared over the howling storm and foreign voices that threatened to overtake them, but there was no time to slow down. With engines nearly maxed out, and exterior sensors on full; everything in the vehicle was set to get them to this mysterious fortress in record time. That was of course, besides the music.

The Slave idly turned it down for a moment, it's popular tempo falling quiet as he began to speak, face partially wrapped by a shemagh. For once, he seemed somewhat well rested, considering he usually took weeks at a time to go on this bender or that; and without bags under his eyes and a slight slur to his speech, he seemed rather sharp. A first, in truth.

“Ready? While we’re here for Atlas, I don’t think he’s going to be alone.”, he said, golden orbs glancing over to the darker stranger in the passenger seat.

Engines whirred over, met with the hum of the storm, and the two sat relatively quietly for those few moments between their words. In front of them, a few more kilometers, was the massive fortress that was likely the source of all this incessant racket. The cries, screams, and armies that ran rampant amongst the military bases not far from where they were. Still, it’d be some time before they were there, so filling that void of time with some talking would help.

“Depending who shows up first, we’ll either lay ambush to them or strike them when they’re focused on something else.”

In the backseat, the sheathed Ishtar jostled back and forth waiting for its chance for blood. A wish The Slave soon intended to grant for his loving blade, but not with the intent to kill. No, he was here to test this man; find out just what he was capable of. He needed to figure it out if he was going to trust him.

 

[Vereshin]

Location: Ajunta's Fortress
Objective: Shed past weaknesses
Allies: [member="The Slave"], [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Aria Vale"]

A speeder fast approached the looming citadel of Ajunta's fortress and Vereshin watched blizzard hurl outside the thick glass pane. The dark mage had not returned to his homeworld since joining the Sith, now traversing the frozen waste of Ziost as a sorcerer of the purest form. He leaned against the door of the speeder and tapped his finger to the music, stroking the skull ring with one thumb to dull his nerves. The fear of combat still pressed Vereshin lightly, a fear he endeavored to shed today. Since conducting a planetary scale ritual alongside [member="Darth Carnifex"], the aspiring Sith recognized uncharacteristic ambition and rising power.

"Yes." He uttered a single word to the light haired man beside him while huddling beneath his coat. A vast maelstrom of energy loomed across the atmosphere and threatened the conscience of each nearing individual, tapping into their most sincere fears and piercing their thoughts with a cacophony of sharp cries. Vereshin sat upright. His chest tightened and heaved, gently pushing the amethyst pin on his scarf up and down. The storm seemed to know where he was going, that he would face combat despite a passive demeanor he failed daily to overcome. When the Slave mentioned the presence of another, he felt his fingers dampen and coil.

The car soared over the thick snow and pulled up a short distance away from the fortress. Snow hurled outside the windows and muted vision, blurring the dark finish of the spires to a faded grey. Vereshin received the Slave's instructions and delivered a nod of acknowledgement towards his features. The amethyst pinned to his breast glowed a pale violet the roaring presence of the storm drew closer. The sorcerer remained quiet as the doors opened, remaining quite content to listen and act when necessary, saving his words to channel energy in preparation for what was to come. Despite his fear, a rising confidence pressed Vereshin onward. He was growing in power and he felt it crying to be unleashed.

Both doors opened, allowing Vereshin and the Slave to slide their boots into the layer of snow covering the Ziosti taiga. Wolves howled in the distance and curved domes glistened atop the fortress towers. The freezing temperature pierced their garments and brought a slight smile to Vereshin's mouth. His eyes grew large and he looked around with an expression of nostalgia, welcoming the memories of sub-zero winters and short summers. He felt glad to return home. While the immortal regent destroyed the world millennia ago, Vereshin held no regard for the loss. A Force Drain ritual on a planetary scale was far too inciting.

"You get used to it." Vereshin said with a smile as he watched his partner shiver. The cold did not affect him as much and the wind grew stronger as they progressed towards the fortress. Lightning coursed around the eye of the storm above the towers. The upcoming Sith heightened his concentration and shielded his mind from invading presences.

 

[Flora Burn]

Location: Space
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemy: unknown, as who in the right mind would face the sith empire

As her ships took up formation, the space above Ziost was now secure. She listened to coms traffic, and realised something was happening on ground. She looked at her forces and realised that she need the Eagles, in case anyone did come out of hyperspace to challenge her, but she did not need the hawks and the hellcats. She decide to send a message to [member="Darth Carnifex"], she hoped she would not be killed for disturbing him, but same time offering support might get her help promotion.

She sat down and the sent message, as he would be far to busy to take a holo call from a lowly officer like herself.

My Emperor

I have fighter and bombers in orbit, which can be spared if you wish.
They can help in you secure Adasta, and can be with you within the hour

Commodore Burn

As she typed it Eagles, began flying around the station. They where mainly scanning it, and doing a few mock dogfights, with each other. She would not be going to station unless order to, something she liked to see, but she had a job to do, and that was help secure the space, which so far was a walk in the park.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The People's Tower loomed before them.

Built on a rocky crag and modeled after the Imperial Citadel on Dromund Kaas, the People's Tower had been the administrative center for Ziost for many centuries. Now it too was quiet and desolate as the Dark Lord flung open the entry doors, boldly striding forth followed by his loyal soldiers.

"Secure the perimeter, and reinforce the entrance. I don't want any of those vermin getting past the defensive live."

The Blackblade Guard were masters of urban warfare, and had brought with them pre-fabricated permacrete blockades and other defensive fixtures which they used to protect their rear flank. As the soldiers went about their work, the Dark Lord received a message on his wrist communicator which read:

My Emperor,

I have fighter and bombers in orbit, which can be spared if you wish.
They can help in you secure Adasta, and can be with you within the hour

Commodore Burn

He'd long since stopped correcting people when his subjects referred to him as Emperor, even though he hadn't officially taken the title and instead preferred to use Dark Lord. So long as they showed him the proper respect and reverence, they could call him whatever title they pleased.

Commodore Burn,

Have your fighters maintain air superiority.
I don't want to be caught off guard like Mirial.

Remain vigilant.

Lord Carnifex

With the building's entrance secured, the Dark Lord could afford to delve deeper into the complex. "Major Holland, Lady Kohler, with me. Let us see if the People's Tower has something left to offer us."

[member="Greta Kohler"], [member="Jack Holland"], [member="Flora Burn"]​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Objective 2: Lay The Ambush
│ [member=Vereshin] │ [member="Atlas Kane"] │ [member="Aria Vale"] │
The Slave tightened his coat and scarf as Vereshin’s words came through to him. Between the storm’s howls, and the metaphysical cries of some unknown entity, hearing him was difficult. He sighed and offered little more than a perturbed grunt before clicking a few buttons on his armors palm controls; forcing the speeder the two now departed from to zoom off on autopilot to some unknown hiding position far away.
A few more steps and at least they’d be out of the storm; he thought to himself.
And true it would be. Entering the first door they found, the most likely to be an entrance, they stopped and recollected themselves. For a few briefs moments of silence, the two patted snow that threatened to bury off their coats only to hear the gnawing cries of the void deeper in the fortress; only now it carried with it a deeper, more forceful baritone that sunk deeper into their hearts.
For The Slave, he had a natural resistance being epicanthic in nature; however that was not an end all be all, as despite his affinity for the mental fortitude aspect of it all, he could still be influenced both mentally and otherwise. He knew this, and despite the dulled nature of the voices, he could still hear their cries infecting his ears with negative emotions.
The cries of a girl gone silent, the laughter of a posse, and his own pained vocal cords tearing from sheer emotion.
He cringed slightly before turning to Vereshin once more;
“I can take care of the two entering for a bit, but I need you to hide.”, he said firmly.
“Just for a while.”
With that, regardless of the response, he’d don his phrik lined helmet and look around the area for any chance to enact their ambush. A heightened position, a careless outcropping, even a crack in the wall; anything to provide an advantageous position in these careful moments. Finding a perfect place atop a rafter above them, The Slave looked back to Vereshin through an opaque visor;
“Ready?”

 

[Elani Zambrano]

Post I

Location: Skies above New Adasta
Objective: Defend New Adasta
Currently: Makin' An Entrance


For the first time in forever...

Elani was where she belonged, where she felt at home, with the Sith Empire. It almost brought an warmth to her cold heart. One she hadn't felt for quite some time now. She needed something to get this feeling out of her before she started feeling sentimental. Luckily for her, there was an army of cloned warriors below that was begging for the sweet release of death.

Elani was happy to oblige these mindless beasts.

The Panathan heir was aboard a Imperator-class that sat silently in the skies above New Adasta. She oversaw the preparations of the Blackblade Guard to get on the ground. Thy were arming up and manning their stations. There were several armored vehicles that they were planning to use for this battle. These machines of war included three AT-PATs, several AT-A/RWs, and several MAACs. Elani walked to the repulsorlift which took her down from the catwalks above the hangar floor. She walked over to an AT-PAT and entered the vehicle. She found herself a seat in the cockpit and awaited the alarm signaling the battalion being offloaded.

And then, it went off. Red sirens were flashing throughout the hangar as the doors opened up. The metal hulls of the vehicles groaned as they were lifted off the hangar floor and carried off the ship. It was a swarm of flying metal that descended upon the city.

"Lady Elani, we're a few minutes away from the LZ." the pilot of the transport carrying the AT-PAT she was in relayed to her through the commlink.

"Keep the damage to New Adasta as minimal as possible. Anything out of place, you'll pay for personally, captain." Elani replied. A hard thud echoed around as the division had landed. Once the dust settled, the vehicles moved towards the city and the troopers jumped off their gunships and marched at the flanks of the vehicles. It was a fearsome sight for their enemies to see. And it was their fear that would be their downfall.

 

[Jack Holland]

The expeditionary unit trudged on with impunity. Perhaps it was the threat of intense violence that the Blackblades and their counterparts exuded, or the fact that two Sith Lords strode forth in their midst. Whatever it was, though, Jack was quite happy to have it. Their mystical magic must've been keeping most of those soulless soldiers at bay because the resistance they'd faced thus far had been fairly minimal - nothing like the intelligence briefings had suggested.

These were cloned butchers, supposedly renowned for wiping out hundreds, if not thousands of people.

And now only stragglers charged towards the blasters and vibro-bayonets that awaited them...

The troop soon graced the People's Tower with its presence. Looming high above, howling winds screeching. Dark clouds swirled with a peculiar mysticism that Major Holland assumed was attributed by the Force.

Lord Zambrano's voiced bellowed before him, his towering figure striding into the tower.

"By your command, my lord," the man responded. Producing a heavy blaster pistol from his holster, the Major quickly caught up with the lord. Matching his pace evenly on his right side, he narrowed his eyes and sent a surveying glance around them.

Something was amiss.

[member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Greta Kohler"]​

 

[Atlas Kane]

[member="Aria Vale"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Vereshin"].

There'd always been something both comforting and repulsive about excessively loud, disharmonic music. It was never very pleasing to the ear, likely harmful too. It was disorganised, chaotic, utterly unpredictable. It could induce a certain sense of fear, not the sudden scare kind, but a more intrinsic fear of the unknown. Few beings in the galaxy sought it out, few beings were eccentric enough to do so. Yet it also had its appeal. The unpredictability it possessed was a breath of fresh air at times, a break from ultimately very similar popular music that topped or rose close to galactic charts. It was original, new, innovative, occasionally even groundbreaking. There was some subdued sense of admiration towards artists who created such compositions in Atlas. A certain kinship he felt towards those outlying bundles of eccentricity, from one artist to another, though only that his own art lay within battle, not in something deemed enriching to sentient culture.

The uneven howling of the winds combined with these faint echoes reminded him a lot of such music. Unique, chaotic, inducing that distant feeling of fear. It had been grading at first, but as he'd opened himself up to it more he began to take feel a faint sense of enjoyment from hearing its almost deafening howling. Although he could not entirely understand the pained cries of those he presumed caught in the storm at one point or another, they added something to the sinister atmosphere of the storm. The quiet, nearly inaudibly soft clatter of sand thrown against the metal faceplate Atlas wore only added to the discordant melody. Quiet the arrangement nature, or the unnatural, presented to those who sought out the centre of this storm, people like him and the one he accompanied.

In that moment her voice reached him through the howling, barely. He didn't know much about her, but she appeared trustworthy. Not that he wouldn't have taken the chance for an expedition into the Sith City, especially under conditions such as these, if she wasn't.

His tattered white robes danced flew wildly behind him, anchored to his armoured frame. The brazen plates stood in contrast to the white fabric, though their appearance began to meld inside the storm as the white became more and more impure as more and more of the sand clung to it. Its refined white shine was already barely more than a matte white-orange, though that was only of secondary concern to the Sith. It wouldn't be too hard to remove the sand and dirt that clung to it, certainly not for one skilled in the use of the Force.

As the two moved ever onward, Atlas noticed a slight shift in the ground. It gave less and less way with each step, allowing his boots less distance to sink, until it felt like it was entirely solid ground again. Though it didn't appear any different to the earth they wandered sometime earlier on their journey, it was far firmer and resistant to their weight. For a moment he allowed himself to stop and kneel down, brushing away some of the dirt and sand to peer through to what it hid underneath. Though obscured somewhat by the winds, he could make out stone of some kind, carved stone. She'd been right, they were indeed getting closer to the city. She felt it, he did not. He dismissed the implications and stood back up, quickly catching up to the woman, matching her pace once more.

The echoes grew closer, he could almost make out what their tortured words tried to convey. A feeling of disquiet began its ascension to the forefront of his emotions, though it was yet to make any large headway.

 

[Komo]

Greta had already been on route to Ziost when she received the personal summons by the Dark Lord himself to make her presence known on the ancient Sith planet. This was a planet so wreathed in the energies of the Dark side that one could sense the familiar delectable taint that came along with the darker side of the force. In route with a company of her Firebats, an elite group of soldiers the Sith knight personally recruited ever ready to do her bidding. Taking full use of the time it took to get to the planet’s surface, Greta quickly sent out a reply to the Sith Lord and used the remaining time to read up on whatever information she had on Ziost.

Dark Lord,

I humbly obey your summons and currently on route to the rendezvous coordinates provided.
I look forward to serving you once more in the name and glory of the Sith Empire.

Your greatest,
Greta Kohler

The reply was brief and succinct, and it got the message across. The transport ship soon landed in a deserted spaceport, one of the many building emptied of all life within the planet. The Sith knight had heard about the endless tides of slumbering butchers who repeated one single phrase over and over again. We. Are. Endless. The Firebats got into formation of their own, with Greta at the head of the group, leading the company of warriors towards the Dark Lord. As the large column passed the abandoned streets, all they could hear was the howling wind.

When they came, it was as sudden as it could be, shouts were heard before the group even realised something was amiss, and it the next second, the air was filled with cries of battle and blaster fire as these wretches came at them from both sides of the street. Igniting her lightsaber, the Sith knight got to work, carving, eviscerating and lopping off limbs and heads of these butchers. There came that phrase again. We. Are. Endless. She thrust her saber through the mouth of another just as he was about to repeat that one phrase.

Just as quickly as they came, the battle was over, and Greta ordered the company forward. “Onward to the Dark Lord.” It would not be that much later before they approached the People’s Tower. Upon arrival, she had split her company into two, with one half remaining with the Blackblade Guard to defend the tower, and the other half to follow on with her as she did the Sith Lord’s bidding. After the mandatory customary greetings, Lord Carnifex gave the order for her and another officer, a Major Holland to follow. “Yes, my lord. With great pleasure.”

[member="Darth Carnifex"] , [member="Jack Holland"]​

 

[Vereshin]

Location: Ajunta's Fortress
Objective: Lay the Ambush
Allies: [member="The Slave"], [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Aria Vale"]

One glance exchanged between the pale features of the two young Sith, before both of them pushed through the snow to the tall entrance of the fortress. A bell tolled and a lone mage chanted from far above in spherical dome of the tower. The doors opened and they stood within the eye of the storm, pitched cries of static and indiscernible noise breached Vereshin's mind and he held his gloved hands involuntarily over his ears. The screams did not subside, forcing the sorcerer to strengthen his mental defenses even further, blocking out the subconscious fears the entity within the storm could trace.

They cried inside his mind and pinpointed his most intimate vulnerabilities, seemingly of the knowledge that he was directly entering a combative situation. Keeping the leather on his feathers pressed greatly against his ears, Vereshin stopped for the moment and waited to regain his concentration, before shaking his head and moving forward beside the Slave. The two dark presences approaching the fortress drew closer and he received the Slave's words with a flash of his brilliant eyes and a curt nod. As the storm raged around them an inside of their minds, Vereshin assumed his partner most likely could not hear him.

Vereshin stopped in his tracks and allowed the Slave to continue onward, taking a step backwards and concentrating the light particles making up the appearance of his form. The tips of his fingers and feet began to fade, opaque smoke seeping away from the ends as the image of his dispersed and vanished from all perception. Invisible to the common eye, Vereshin slunk away to the side of the hall while the Slave walked forward, finding a crevice between two pillars to watch eagerly from.

"I'm ready." He spoke allowed, knowing the Epicanthix could not interpret psychological messages, while the space between himself and the Slave widened. Vereshin backed away beneath his cloak of energy to lean between the two pillars, awaiting the leader of the elite sect within the Sith to make his next move. The sorcerer gazed up at the infinite ceiling and concentrated, stretching his fingers in preparation to cast and focusing all his energy into the forces he would unleash.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"I can sense your trepidation, Major Holland. Everything is not as it seems here."

The tower was quiet, as quiet and deathly still as the city around it.

Everywhere they went they found nothing but empty rooms, the items of former occupants lying untouched on tables and counters. There wasn't any structural damage that indicated a conflict had broken out, it was as if everyone had just up and left at the same time.

Then, there was a sound.

A low keening wail swept through the tower, like the howling of a billion damned souls. The threat of danger loomed everywhere, an oppressive sensation of peril that poised to overwhelm them. The Dark Lord activated his lightsaber just as a horde of clones, more tenacious and numerous than the last, flooded from every corridor and every chamber before them and behind them. Simultaneously a renewed assault from a similarly massive horde initiated just outside of the tower, threatening to break through the barricade and swarm the entrenched Imperial positions.

"Drive these beasts back to the abyss, I will not let the Empire be denied its birthright!"

[member="Jack Holland"] | [member="Greta Kohler"]​

 

[Flora Burn]

Location: space
Allies: TSE
Enemy: None as no one dare challenge the empire

She got a reply from [member="Darth Carnifex"], he did need her help. He was worried caught off guard like Mirial, so she kept her fighters ready, or they like to say Frosty.
She made each fighters come back to their carriers for refueling, but she kept it up in stages. So she had two thirds of her fighters out, the bombers however just ordered to land, as they be no use until an enemy was in system. Her fleet was moved to underside space station, so it's guns could protect her ships, and they could be postion to repel any attack easier, from their as starting point. She had very little to do, but sit and wait for anything. She got one ensigns, to bring her cup of coffee, she miss being a pirate, she got to drink rum instead.

 

[Jack Holland]

Behind him, he heart the pitter patter of footsteps. Not the estranged, violent lumbering of the cloned warriors that had been assaulting them all day. Rather, they were more friendly faces being added to the mix. Seeing more fresh bodies adorned with the sigils of the empire helped sate his gut-wrenching anxiousness just for a while.

More eyes to scour the hollow tower. Just about everything seemed empty or untouched. Dust caked everything, cobwebs were strewn about corners and doorways, it enough to give any haunted house a run for its money. Even more so when those shrill, unyielding voices began to wail in the distance. Their echoes reverberated through the hollow tower, pinging off the walls.

It startled the major. He instantly stepped to the fore, drawing his sidearm.

Then those fiends charged them. Their footsteps were loud and rampant. Eyes glazed over, mouths contorted into hellish snarls.

Jack drew his blade, preparing for the worst to come. Nearly a dozen men shifted to respond to their newest threats while the rest handled their rearguard. They dropped to a knee, raised their rifles, and let loose with a literal stream of laser fire.

"Frak," the man growled. This was going to get ugly real fast.

[member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Greta Kohler"]​