Faction Honor the Fallen || War in the Rim

[Aspect of Defiance]

It was a somber affair as the Sith Order gathered to honor those of their warriors which had fallen in battle. The citizens of Echnos City had seen the worst of it, the devastation which had been caused because the Galactic Alliance dared to overstep their border. War had seemed the inevitable course. The worlds which had been the neutral space between the boundaries of two great nations became fewer and fewer as the grand and mighty Alliance encroached on Sith Territory.

The Jedi had come looking for war and the Sith gave it to them.

Lives were lost, as was the way with such things. Casualties had been expected. Sacrifices from all were made and demanded.

Darth Empyrean displayed his power over Sulis Van.

Srina Talon bled herself for the Order.

Not one which called themself a leader among the Sith Order had shrunk back from the task at hand. All of them paid the price which was demanded of them. Destruction had rained down on the worlds which the Alliance had targeted, but they fought like Sith, and through strength they had gained victory.

The shipyards were still theirs. Echnos City stood. The mines would still produce lommite.

Jutrand would celebrate victory soon enough, but the people of Echnos City, those who had been called on to sacrifice the most, needed to mourn and honor those which had fallen. The city was not a political stronghold. It had never been a prison. Rather the moon had been an escape for those working the mines on neighboring worlds. Mechanics and engineers from the shipyards often spent their well earned credits to blow off steam after a long season of work.

Now they were forced to rebuild. A new governor was needed. The people needed to get on with their lives, but how could they when the evidence of the calamity they suffered was around them? They had been drawn into the war the Sith had wished to wage too soon, and now they knew what they were.

A staging ground.

As with Tion, Darth Empyrean demanded the bodies of their fallen be collected. It promised to be a grand display as encased bodies were ceremoniously launched out from the few airlocks which still functioned. Warriors and citizens were honored alike, as those which deserved more fanfare were acknowledged. Several were nameless, but for each name known, Gerwald Lechner , read them allowed. It had been his task to lead the forces on Echnos, so it was his duty to commemorate those lost.

The speech which followed was not grand or boisterous. The wolf had never been one to craft words in an eloquent manner. This moment did not need a clever orator, but one who understood more than most the price which duty demanded. His words were simple.

"Today we mourn. Tomorrow we rebuild. Your sacrifice was not in vain."

Spoiler: OBJECTIVES

Mourn: War costs more than monetary resources. Often the price is costly and paid in the blood of those who lay down their lives for a cause. Even the Sith are not immune to this fact. Warriors of the Order have fallen, but through victory they were not lost in vain. Their sacrifice paved the path to victory, and held the Galactic Alliance at bay. Gather with those to remember those of the Order which paid the ultimate price. Give honor to whom honor is due.

Rebuild: Echnos City has been devastated. The Galactic Alliance brought their forces to bear on the airlocks which allow commerce and tourism to flow into the city. Bombs had taken out the power grid of the city. Emergency power has kept life support flowing. The Dread Queen Srina Talon unleashed fear and torment with a Phobis Device which ravaged the minds of all under its influence. Structures must be repaired, power must be restored, and minds must be renewed. The city must be ready as a staging ground once again. This is all about practical need not humanitarian propaganda.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

They had won...

...But at what cost?

The full tally was still coming in, and he imagined there would never be a truly accurate answer to the number of losses that they had sustained, the Sith whom the Alliance had thought had been caught off-guard by their sudden incursion, the Sith who were always so used to being on the offensive, the Sith who had been forewarned by his Tsis'Kaar, and had built up truly powerful bulwarks, had made their stand on the frontier.

And had won.

He knew their losses would likely have been less than the Alliance's, he remembered the old precepts well, when attacking a fortified position have at least three times the enemy number, and be prepared to take horrendous casualties. Such was not new to him, and if he gazed upon the military casualties, brought about in peer-to-peer fighting, he was certain it would reflect what those numbers, the offensive Jedi blooding their noses against the firm lines of the Sith. It was even the kind of war which he had rather fight, as much as he wished to fly the Sith flag over such marvels as Coruscant, Fondor, and Tython, as much as he had pressed for aggressive acts in order to win the war.

Against the foe which they fought, a foe which held the most populous and industrialised regions of the galaxy. As they teetered on the brink of annihilation, there was a careful balance wrought, theirs was a weak people, growing fat and conscious as more and more of their fathers, brothers, nephews, uncles, and cousins were fed to a meatgrinder without progress, attrition was a path to victory.

But how would they accomplish such, when theirs was a war they fought with a time limit, as the gears of finance and economy were being brought to a halt? In that regard, there was only one option, to attack, and to keep attacking, to never allow their momentum to cease, for it ever did, all would come crashing down.

Maybe that was why both his Imperial Majesties had undertaken this... path...

Neither able to win a war of attrition when it was they who faced the time limit, neither able to win a conventional war for their enemy conventionally held the possibility of a greater might than they, even distracted across multiple fronts as they were.

So what path was left, apart from fighting unconventionally? He knew the thought process well, the rules of war could be bent until they were broken, all for the greater good... and what would he not do for the Sith? Had it not been his proposal to lure the Alliance further and further into the mines of Dorvalla, only to collapse them under dirt and stone, a fate that those who survived... would wish they had not.

Yet, what had happened across other battlefronts, felt somehow worse than his proposal...

Still, as word filtered in of the casualties wrought outside of the peer-to-peer fighting, two equal emotions whirled within him, as reviews were made of both Echnos and Sluis Van of just how many civilians, how many of their people, the people which they had pledged to protect were made nought but corpses... or even worse, ash.

His masked face was blank, but his gloves were gripped down with all his might as the Wolf Lord's voice rang out across the grand open pavillion.

They mourned, did they? Mourned the ones that they killed.

We rebuilt did we? Rebuilt when it was they who brought about destruction.

The sacrifices were not in vain? When it had been they who had chosen to sacrifice those who had no say in that regard.

His eyes were snapped shut behind the mask, as nails bit through leather down into the skin beneath, as he felt the fire spread across his limbs, his breath growing heavy, as he held it to measure, the injustice of it all, the lies they told themselves when...

Echnos was a shell of its former self.

The fleet that survived Sluis Van could barely be called that.

Sluis Van...

Sluis Van was where all the real horrors had taken place, to such perfidy and hopelessness that part of him, the silent whisper, if perhaps he had not informed the Emperor and the Dark Council of what the Tsis'Kaar had learned, the regret and guilt of millions of lives which he neither knew, nor could know, snuffed out, as the fleet above them, their occupiers yes... but too their protectors... rained down hellfire, that extinguished them all... for all which he scorned the Alliance and their Jedi puppeteers, for all which he hated their wilful acceptance of their and the galaxy's slavery...

...Would they have done this?

The fact he could not confidently say yes, bothered him more than he could admit.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They'd fanned out into the city in the immediate aftermath of the battle, conducting ruthless clean-up operations by the sword and the gun. In contrast, airlock 5 had grown quiet as the battlefield was stripped of the dead; both Alliance and Sith. Darth Carnifex watched over the proceedings with quiet reflection, replaying the events of the fight over and over again. He'd analyze every aspect of it, to better understand His adversaries should He ever encounter them again. In His hand, He gently turned over a piece of beskar, one emblazoned with the emblem of Clan Kryze.

"They skitter about in darkness, gnawing at whatever scraps tumble their way. The Children of Mandalore are a diminished people." He turned to face the others that had been waiting patiently in His shadow. Among them was His apprentice, Kaila Irons, although she would soon be addressed by a new name -- her truest name. He strode up to her, silently slipping the piece of beskar into her hands whether she wished it or not. "You did well today, my apprentice. I applaud your efforts. You've taken your first steps."

Then, to the others. "We make for the palace. Our task is done." The city they passed through was marked by the horrors inflicted upon it, bodies deposited in great piles while the smoldering hulks of buildings watched solemnly. The Kainate dead, by contrast, was handled with far greater care. Their bodies were placed in cyro-caskets, hoisted onto wide-belly transports that sped off to deposit the dead into a Kainate mortuary temple-craft. Enemy dead were routinely defiled and mocked, while the dead of the city itself were just put aside as per the Emperor's orders.

Had it been up to the Butcher King, the enemy dead and the citizens of the city alike would have been heaped upon the pyre, burned away together. He would have dismantled this entire city, rebuilt it in an image more befitting the needs of the Empire. But that was not His decision to make, and He honestly did not think it a serious enough concern to give voice to. Empyrean would do as he wished, as was his right, and the Dark Lord of the Kainate would do the same.

Surmounting the steps leading to the palace, Carnifex swept into the outer courtyard with a grand gesture. Hymns were sung in His name, banners of the Kainate symbol raised high above the walls. The faithful fell to their knees, bowing their heads as their God passed by them without so much as a glance. What had remained of the manor was barely holding on, most of the structure having collapsed into a great sinkhole that had opened up beneath it. Undoubtedly by the Empress' doing, the Dark Lord could smell her handiwork in the wreckage.

Finding her was no difficult task, they had always been drawn to one another through their close bond. He would kneel by her side, inspecting her for any serious wounds. "You have outdone yourself, my lady Talon." Without warning, the Dark Lord scooped up the Empress in both of His arms, carrying her as if she were a child. "Perhaps far too greatly, burden yourself no more."

Srina Talon | Kaila Irons ​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | Open

The wolf made a swift exit from the platform the moment he could. This was the part of responsibility he hated. His mistress, the white haired Echani, was not present and in need of aid, and he was rallying the people to a cause. Honoring the dead was one of several logical steps in keeping Echnos City as a staging site for Sith expansion into former Rimward Trade League territory. Several of those worlds had once belonged to the Confederacy before its collapse. Stewjon, the planet of Gerwald’s birth, and childhood, was among them as well.

Empyrean wanted the resources and wealth those worlds could offer to continue his machinations. Gerwald wanted Stewjon. It was a simple point of alignment for them.

He could care less about what he wanted beyond the driving desire to know that Srina Talon was not lost to him. Damn the responsibilities, and damn the appearances he tried hard to maintain. His only hesitation came from what both she and his mate Naedira Darcrath would remind him of. His duty came first.

The wolf was not as free as Darth Carnifex , the one who had found the empress and now looked after her. If any from Echnos were to happen upon her other than Gerwald, he was glad it had been the Butcher King. They had both come to a silent understanding about the shared importance the woman held in their lives. Both had different reasons as to why they cared for the Echani, but they both shared that one thing in common.

They had bonded over it.

He sighed as his mind reached out for the Butcher King.

<< “I will be there shortly. There is much to discuss. Take care of her.” >>

There was a day where the Dread Wolf would have never dared to speak to the Dark Lord in such a way. He knew that his words would not penetrate the mental shields the Zambrano held rigidly in place, but Gerwald counted on the fact he would allow them to pass when he felt good and ready to receive them. It was an odd friendship they seemed to be forming, if it could be called that. Whatever their relationship, it was not a contemptuous one. Perhaps they had Srina to thank for that as well. She was the only common thread between them with the power to do so.

Gerwald paused to honor the dead. His speech would not be enough if his actions did not follow suit. It was all calculated to position the people where he wanted them. The recent actions poisoned the populace toward the Galactic Alliance, and while the Sith had unleashed terror upon them in the form of the Phobis Device, they had done it to all equally. The Sith had suffered its effects as did the Alliance. All partook of the poison it poured into their minds.

The public would see Gerwald as a leader to follow during uncertain times, and the Sith Order as the body which could guarantee stability. Before they had occupied the city, but now the majority of her citizens would give up whatever freedoms the Sith demanded for the protection they had provided. They would serve out of a perceived need, and the wolf would allow them to believe it. It would expedite the task at hand.

Those who were able began the efforts to rebuild. Gerwald moved through the streets, back toward the former governor’s mansion. It was in ruins. There was a gaping wound where the majority of the manor once stood, and the wolf knew who was responsible, though he could not discern why at the moment. The only assumption would be that she had faced an enemy, and the hole was truly a grave.

His eyes moved to the Butcher King. Srina, the Empress, was in his arms. He held her as if she were nothing more than a child, and considering his size compared to hers, it looked as such. Gerwald quickly directed his gaze to her. She did not seem overly injured, but weariness radiated from her. The Wolf did not need their bond to tell him any of it. Her exhaustion was plain to the eye. What they had done, what she had done, demanded much.

“Drottningin mín,” Gerwald spoke in his native tongue. “hvíldu þig nú, áður en valkyrjur koma fyrir sál þína.”

Gerwald looked back to the Butcher King and nodded.

“We will need to appoint a new governor to oversee the rebuilding efforts.”

 

[Kivah]

Echanos was probably about as far from her usual haunts as Kivah had ever gotten. Most of her time was spent out in the galactic North East, in Corporate Space or around the State. Even hopping on the Hydian Way and taking it right through Alliance space, it'd taken her a long time to get to Echnos. Far too late to help with the defense. Though looking out from the lowered ramp of the Reaper, she didn't see how one more mercenary could have made much difference, such was the damage. At least the fires were out, mostly.

Kivha still didn't see how she could help, as she looked out from the lighted bay of her ship across the domed city. Then she looked back into her ship, and then back out at the city. She had a fairly decent power generator, and a water recycler, plus nearly full tanks. She could do something more than dig into rubble. The military arm of the Sith could take care of itself, as she well knew. Instead, she directed the droid integrated into her little drop ship to scan open comm frequencies for any broadcasts directing civilian or recovery efforts. Gem reported back that there wasn't much, but it would keep trying.

Not for the first time, she felt like an outsider. She didn't know anyone here, the few times she'd acted as a mercenary for Darth Morta, or on Tion and Farboon hadn't established any real relationships for her. Even in the small team of grunts she'd worked with to raid resistance cells on Farboon had fallen out of contact as soon as the fight was over. The others she'd met, well they were Sith, great and powerful. Kivah sat on the Reaper's ramp with her back up to the hydraulics while she waited for Gem and mused. She wasn't even sure what they'd talk about, or if someone like that would even have anything in common with her. But that was fine, she was a mercenary. Das was her friend and if she wanted more there were the other Zeros. She checked her blaster's charge and ensured it'd have a smooth draw from its holster should she need it. The Sith were a pay-day, she didn't need to make friends.

 

[Srina Talon]

Nearby Allies: Darth Carnifex | Gerwald Lechner
Distant Allies: Darth Malum of House Marr
Location: Governor's Mansion Ruins
______________________________________________________

The phobis was silent.

A babe sleeping peacefully, exhausted, in a crib of durasteel while it was prepared for transport.

Hawkish golden orbs remained fixated on a point of nothingness, of emptiness, and burned a hole into the air until twilight bled into dawn. The fighting had led her full circle back toward the remains of the governor's mansion and she currently occupied a large chunk of rubble. Her feet didn't touch the ground, her body, rigid. Still as stone. The state of the infrastructure in Echnos City could have been worse, though, she still witnessed a sprawling graveyard of shattered buildings, general destruction, and streets that were…Littered with the dead. Fires still flickered in the distance while the heavy scent of scorched metal, smoke, and copper hung thick in the air.

They had won.

Or so the murmurings of her Sith children had proclaimed.

It rolled through their minds like a sonnet of the macabre. Over and over. That the Sith Order had claimed victory over the Galatic Alliance. They had purged their ilk from the Moon of Echnos with an imperious sword made of fear and violence. She should have been pleased. Yet, as Srina surveyed the devastation, there was no sense of triumph in her chest—Only an unsettling emptiness, a quiet void, that stretched deeper than she cared to acknowledge.

She didn't feel anything at all.

Her alabaster skin, streaked with ash and dirt, held a faint glow in the light of day. Her eyes slowly began to track the metallic caskets that were filled with the lifesblood of this world and then sent out into space. Plainly put…The cemeteries and crematoriums on Echnos couldn't keep up. There had been the notion of burning those that had died, but the pale woman had adamantly refused, stubborn, and nonsensical in her sentiment. It would have been more efficient.

But for the first time in years…It was not efficiency that she longed for. It was her husband. Maliphant.

For a creature that had been a hellion in the thick of it, seeing her so still, now, would be extremely jarring. It would appear to the unenlightened that she had been carved from ice, with long white hair flowing like a river of dusky silver behind her. Its purity was marred by soot. By blood. Both her own—And not. The toll of the battle weighed heavily on her even if her terse orders and empty stare showed no outward signs of her weakness. The darkness that she had channeled still flowed through her, though it was muted, like a low hum rather than the roaring current that had been left at the feet of her enemies.

It was raw fire in her veins now. Almost, painful.

Her reserves were drained, body and spirit depleted, from a relentless exertion of power.

But still…Even now, even, on the heels of victory she could not bring herself to rest. She could not close her eyes for more than a moment. She could not sleep. Not when there were Sith still unaccounted for and not when there were still casualties that needed to be put to rest.

Where was Kasir Dorran or Velda Nar-Donna ?

Kaila Irons had been seen…But what of Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax ?

Of Gerwald Lechner ?

Many of those who had died had perished under her command, or, directly by her hand. The fear-crazed civilians that she had sent charging into the front lines…The Sith who had followed her into the heart of the storm…Even those that had just been collateral damage. Buildings, falling. Missiles that missed their target. Terror-induced heart attacks. They were all part of the same tangled web of consequences that she had willingly woven for the sake of not only holding the line—But pushing back.

Srina felt…No sorrow. No regret. She was not a creature of sentimentality. But she did understand loss—Its sharp edges, its finality. She had felt it before. In the death of her firstborn, during, the death of her husband, and now, she felt it again in the quiet after the chaos. These lives, these sacrifices, had been necessary both to make a point AND secure victory in the swiftest way possible. She knew that. A siege could have gone on for weeks, or months, with even higher death tolls. Especially, if emergency life support had faltered.

Generators…Could only last so long.

In the end…the people of Echnos had been the perfect weapon to fight self-proclaimed liberators, no matter, how fierce they were. No matter how filled with hate, no matter, how they desired revenge. The presence of "innocence" and "life" would always cause them to change strategies. Hesitate. Scramble to find a way to win without endangering millions…

Srina would never, hesitate.

As she looked out over Echnos…She endured and accepted the cost. Just as she had promised Judah Lesan during their brief battle. The phobis device was a double-edged sword that had ravaged more than just the enemy. It had torn through the hearts of her own people, leaving wounds, that would not easily heal. The faces of the dead seemed to stare up from the rubble, their empty eyes accusing. It didn't matter to her if they were of Echnos, Sith, or the Alliance.

She was responsible.

Srina did not flinch from the truth, nor, the frightened gaze of those who had survived. The blood on her hands had been hers to spill. She had made the decision, as she always did, with cold pragmatism. It was not a question of morals, but, a mathematical equation. The loss of life was staggering…But it was less than it could have been. Less, than if the Alliance had pressed through this bulwark and the Sith had to pivot to another beachhead world.

One disaster after the next, each, with increasing intensity to their soil.

Srina closed her eyes, letting the darkness settle over her mind like a shroud. She could feel the city beneath her, layers of it broken, but still alive. The pulse of what had once been was barely there…But that would change with time. There would be no cheering, no parade, but her intent was for the Sith to continue to rise. To remember, and rise up stronger than they were before, for their difficulties, in enduring the phobis, for enduring the longest, deepest, darkest night with their wits intact… But the scars of this battle…Those scars would remain. Alone, spent, she allowed the weight of what had been lost to wash over her. The role she had taken, in that loss.

Victory…Arrived at a price. War was not fair. It was not compassionate—And it would never be free.

Woe to those who assumed otherwise.

Woe to those who assumed any incursion with the Alliance would end peacefully.

Woe to those who were unwilling to do what needed to be done to retain sovereignty.

Were Srina more aware of her immediate surroundings she might have felt the presence of Darth Carnifex approaching swiftly. She could not move…Did not have the strength to greet him properly. When the dark-haired Sith Lord knelt at her side, Srina could feel an undercurrent of concern, touched, by swift eyes checking her body for damage. He would find naught but bruises, abrasions, and shallow cuts…For the deepest wounds she bore were not on the surface. Her sins were many, etched, into her soul. They were a burden that might have crushed a lesser mind and touched it with madness. "Tell me…That they are gone. Swear it to me…"

"That the city, the system, is purged."

Her words were a feminine rasp that was beyond brittle. Like a green leaf that had been turned to delicate brown lace in between summer and autumn. Suddenly, vertigo. Her body was so numb she was slow to feel his arms around her and her head spun from the sudden movement. Instantly—She was incensed at being lifted so easily. Her hand formed a light first that thumped against his chest in weak protest. She was not a youngling to be carried as if she were a piece of luggage…But that fist…The thump grew softer. Anger, evaporated.

She was too tired to argue.

"We are not done…This burden is mine, Kaine. I must bear it…All of it…"

Everything that had happened in Echnos City was on her head. It was the noose around her neck…And rightfully so. It was her place to sit among the dead and listen to the ghostly remains of those who her orders had culled. To feel their essence slip away and return to the Force. To endure. It was the duty of an Empress to fight for her people. To place her life on the line for her people, her children, and to shoulder the weight of inhumane deeds, the blame, without batting an eye—To carry it all.

So they didn't have to.

The voice of her wolf rose nearby and her eyes slowly fluttered closed…silently wondering how Darth Empyrean had faired in his endeavors. She was too weak to reach for him as she normally would. Too drained, to let her mind slip through the dark spaces between stars.

"…I cannot rest…Not when my people, do not rest. Give the order to ensure, beyond doubt, that every member of the Alliance that set foot on this Moon is either…dead or departed…"

Preferably, both.

"...Or detained for questioning."

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Lina was too late.

She had been one the otherside of the galaxy and deeply entrenched in the business of the Red Hand that when the call to arms had reached her, it had been too late. A rogue agent required personal attention, they were so rare that ignoring it or leaving those beneath her to handle it would have sent the wrong message. Maintaining her own organisation had to take precedence over her need to climb within the order.

Truth be told as she moved through the broken city, part of her as glad for her absence. She had read the reports as they had come in on the hyperspace journey here and watched the number of casualities steadily climb. Now as she stood among charred wreckage, as she passed bodies twisted beyond recognition, as she caught the vacant expressions of survivors she knew that she would have hated every moment of being here.

The very air around them still seemed to humm with the residual power of the darkside as she climbed the steps of the palace, or what was left of it, for even this building didn't seem to have escaped destruction entirely. Such a mess. War was always a mess. She hated it, but it was a necessity if they were to push towards the core. And if this was only the beggining? What horrors awaited them in the future?

It was a strange sight, to see a woman so powerful cradled in Darth Carnifex 's arms, the aura she normally held seemed so dimished against his. That the executioner was there bore no surprise, it was now secret that Gerwald Lechner was loyal to her above all else, though why remained a mystery to be unfolded.

"Resting is exactly what you should be doing by the looks of you, Empress." she commented as she approached."I have more than enough hands to see to your command and relieve those who need relieving so you can all rest."

Her gaze flicked up to Carnifex's face and then to Gerwald's. "I can only offer my apologies for my absence."

Srina Talon

 

[Ansisa]

Her steps were silent on the stone floor as she approached him, the datapad disappearing into the fold of her cloak as she came to a halt a few feet behind Darth Malum of House Marr , granting him the space to pay his respects. Ansisa herself was unmoved by any of it, detah was her everyday, and war required death on an unfathomable scale. Those that survived still had a home, the sacrifice they gave for the Order to suceed was a necessary one, and with any luck a new governer would see to it that such a sacrifce would be rewarded. Until then, the best they could do was prepare for the next battle. The only thing they should be focused on was winning the war, so that their deaths would not be in vain.

She did not need to open the bond to know how her Master was feeling. She knew the father of her children to his very core. The shell he guarded himself with protected a bleeding heart, and she knew he would manage to find a way to make these deaths a fault of his own. Red eyes watched him silently before she blew a sigh out of her nose and stepped up beside him.

"The main body of the Alliance fleets have pulled back to Eiattu six, seems they are waiting their for stragglers or to perhaps launch rescue efforts for those that could not escape." she told him, her eyes on the ceremony bofore them. "We will watch them closely and sabtage what efforts they might make to cross the borders again."

She fell silent for a moment, casting him a sideways glance. "The few that we captured in the mines are of a low rank and not likely to yeild anything useful. Would you like me to dispacth of them?"

 

[Kaila Irons]

Kaila- no- Anathemous, was there waiting patiently for the dark lord as he looked about the city. Echnos was as wracked by war as she was, using this time knelt on one knee to rest her weary bones.

Her broken helmet lay in the dust and shattered glass beside her, allowing tangled hair to drape over her cloaked shoulders like golden chains. Blood dripped from her forehead as she looked up when her master approached, shoving a piece of beskar into her gloved hand. A reward? A gesture of some hidden meaning? A test? The golden eyed vahla remained unsure as she looked up to the great tower to whom she was bound.

"You did well today, my apprentice. I applaud your efforts. You've taken your first steps."

Then, to the others. "We make for the palace. Our task is done."

"Thank you, my lord" She bowed her head all the same.

Standing up slowly as he passed, Kaila carefully inspected the piece, wondering if it was the same which he'd pulled from his infamous scale cloak earlier, perhaps even that it might have been the very piece with which he'd taunted the Alor of Clan Kryze just before she had charged the Mandalorians herself. The very first she'd killed today had already been stripped of his armor, being carried by a Kainate soldier kneeling behind her, tasked with the great and terrifying honor of aiding her presentation of this gift to her master, and the soldier's dark god.

These morbid curiosities, this peculiar passion for study, were emotions and thoughts she purposefully indulged so as to hide her truest feelings from all who could sense them, a technique she'd learned while researching the ancient assassins of Darth Reven.

Looking over her shoulder, she would pocket the beskar and then direct the soldier to carry what remained of her mask as well, falling in line behind behind their shared master in a march to the palace. It would take them past the ruined shells of buildings they near the empty husks of survivors and the rows of body bags. Many of those were the lucky ones, she thought. For they had seen the end of this. She kept her head low, unable to look at the faces of those deliberately caught in the crossfire.

Perhaps it had not been her choice to become Sith, a continued loyalty that was brought on by the fact that she knew nothing else. Literally, in her case, not while her own amnesia remained. But to be an Imperial? Before today she had grown to love the idea, To be a part of something. To defend their borders from the lies of the Jedi, to lead soldiers in glory for the empire.

This wasn't it.

She knew better now. This is what war truly was, and whether she wanted it or not, she had enabled it. She had served diligently, she had killed dutifully, and most of all, she had stalled the Jedi long enough to prevent her reaching this palace-

By god, the palace...

It was in ruins. What the hell happened here? The formation stopped with a synchronized stomp of their boots that echoed throughout the palace grounds, and she saw something unthinkable.

Carnifex kneeled...

Kaila was woefully unaware of the messy politics within the order, but to see a man hailed as a god kneel before the empress?

She quickly kneeled in kind, only standing once Carnifex too had risen.

Finding her was no difficult task, they had always been drawn to one another through their close bond. He would kneel by her side, inspecting her for any serious wounds. "You have outdone yourself, my lady Talon." Without warning, the Dark Lord scooped up the Empress in both of His arms, carrying her as if she were a child. "Perhaps far too greatly, burden yourself no more."

And the unthinkable happened again, as the empress was bridal carried away from the scene. Her wrist bled from ritual unseen by Kaila, her protests weak and then limp. She was watching a God tending to the injury and fatigue of another God, and she was just now learning that gods could bleed.

"Is she... alright...?"

Empress Talon had been the one responsible for all of this, not excluding the torment Kaila herself had been subjected to, and momentarily been driven mad by. And yet... The Empress reached out to her once she had allowed this dark change to take place. Her voice had been a soft, steadying thing, almost motherly in the vital support it leant.

To see her like this now welled complex and conflicting emotions within the rising Kainite.

And then the empress spoke, her voice raspy and broken.

"Tell me…That they are gone. Swear it to me…"

"That the city, the system, is purged."

She was reminded that the empress was still Sith, carrying all the venomous hate of their order even in her fatigued state. Despite disagreeing with her methods in silence, Kaila found it... respectable. Yes, Empress Talon was a respectable woman. One she would have liked to speak with more, were it not for her measly station and the restrictions therein.

She would ignore the others for now, simply walking beside her master and the empress in silence, watching this strange display curiously.


Darth Carnifex Srina Talon Gerwald Lechner Lina Ovmar

 

[Darth Strosius]

​

Objective: Mourn Plan
Tags: Open!

The officers and technicians on the bridge were starting to worry for the floor of the vessel they stood on. Darth Strosius had been pacing back and forth before the viewport, glancing between it where Echnos could be seen beyond and towards the holodisplay of the funeral processions taking place planetside, for more than a couple minutes now. Even to his Wonosan followers, who were far more familiar with his moods and thought processes than their Inquisition counterparts, he was oddly silent in a manner that set all on the bridge of the cruiser on edge.

The Alliance had been repelled, Dorvalla and Sluis Van held, and even Echnos City still stood, and yet he seemed so very displeased by something. Some among the officers thought it was perhaps the coming Kaggath that held his ire and concern but given that they were in orbit over Echnos rather than hunting down Malum they dismissed that prospect. Finally the incessant pacing halted as a communication notification pinged on one of the bridge consoles, the unfortunate technician operating said console at the time then shrinking in their seat as the masked gaze of the Sith Lord snapped to them.

Without waiting for an order to do so the technician quickly opened up the communication and the holodisplay in the center of the bridge shifted from funerary sites to that of a saluting Darkseeker. :"We have achieved success High Priest, the comm buoys are all in position and ready to transmit on your command.": Darth Strosius felt some of the tension that had taken root in his shoulders leave at the report, nodding in response before he realized it. "Excellent. Begin the broadcast at once." With another salute the projection of the Darkseeker flickered out as the masked man looked back to the assembled officers who quickly stood at attention as the visor of their lord shifted to them.

"The survivors from the Phobis Device, they've arrived already, yes?" One of the technicians, who had been holding a datapad in their hands so tightly that their knuckles were white from the strain, slowly nodded. "Y-Yes Lord Inquisitor. They were brought onboard a few minutes ago but you were...distracted." The technician paled and raised the datapad to try and hide their face as the Sith stared at them for a long moment before his attention was captured by another notification from the communications console. "Ah, that must be the broadcast. Bring it up on the display."

The displays across the bridge came to life once more and Darth Strosius felt a smirk spread across his hidden visage at the sight. The ruined remains of destroyed and abandoned Alliance ships over Sluis Van, the impaled and crushed bodies of the task forces which had attempted to storm Dorvalla, and of course the bloodshed and corpses left at the airlocks of Echnos City. A broadcast of carnage and shame to rival the propagandized glorious sacrifice of the funeral occupying most Sith channels.

But this wasn't just being broadcasted to Sith channels.

Communication buoys along the edges of the Mid-Rim sent out the sights of death and war straight into the heart of the Alliance, along with slightly altered footage of the Alliance's three-pronged assaults. With the images of their dead those of the Core and Mid-Rim would see on the broadcast their soldiers attempting to breach into Echnos City with no regard nor heed spared for the civilians within, they would see mines being collapsed on Dorvalla by their troops which trapped miners within, and of course the sight of the great shipyards of Sluis Van being attacked even as they hosted several trade and civilian convoys.

 

[Firrerreo]

Fear made for better parts, Firrerreo had learned. Fear, hate, all manner of negative emotions that bred the Dark practically infused the bodies with it. Which meant, harvest time. Bodies that were trampled in the mass fleeing of terrified civilians, shot by spooked soldiers, slaughtered by paranoid neighbors, he walked through the wreckage with the smile only a kid in a cady store would have.

And he harvested. Blood caked his arms as he plucked out only the most exquisitely dark infused parts. Hearts, livers, lungs, brains, bones, muscles. It didn't matter what, he just left a trail of mutilated corpses as he tucked those parts into his familiar's mask. Later, when he was back at the Academy, he'd make use of them. His fight against Mahsa and Vera Noble had made it clear he needed to advance his studies and creations both.

So he would. With only the finest materials for it.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Her protests against His actions did not go unnoticed, but they did go unanswered. He had once felt the resounding drumbeat of her fist against His breastplate once before, on the volcanic world of Mustafar. There, her efforts brought an end to an apocalyptic bout between Himself and Darth Empyrean , preserving two of the only men in her life that she cherished above so many others; one platonically and the other romantically. Now, those drumbeats were so very weak, a testament to the power expended by the Dread Empress.

Had He designs for the throne, He could have crushed her in His arms; breaking her body like wooden reeds. But He did not, the thought never entered His mind. He held her so carefully, cradling her head so that her neck would not suffer any displeasure. Her irritation at Him radiated up the very arms that held her so close. His words, barely above a whisper, crept into her ears as though His own lips brushed against them. "All that linger will be uncovered, as you desire. Their profane sacrilege will be wiped clean."

His eyes turned first from Lina and then to Kaila. "The Empress will recover, it is by her efforts that secured our victory. All the Empire owes their Empress a debt payable only through unwavering fidelity. Remember this." Then His gaze fell upon the Dread Wolf, the Executioner of the Sith. Their trifold pact had only strengthened in the intervening months since their first meeting upon the Malsheem. All three of them -- the Dread Empress, the Dread Wolf, and the Butcher King -- remained steadfast allies, their powers bent towards the consolidation of the Empire's future. Here they were again, amidst the ashes of victory, planning for what came next.

"I will take control of Echnos and Sluis Van. These worlds must be guided by a strong hand before they are relinquished to lesser wills. When I am done with them, they will be unrecognizable."

Srina Talon | Gerwald Lechner
Kaila Irons | Lina Ovmar ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He felt her presence far before he saw it, such was still the power of their bond even if wrenched shut so long ago. It was impossible not to still feel her, impossible to not know her, impossible to not still... want her. Weakness was well known to him, weakness was something that even as he accepted it, he made constant excuses for. It had been so long since they had parted on... far from good terms... it had not been long after that they had shared the same bed once again.

Even when he had loved another, how many times had he returned?

She knew how to control him like no one else, she knew how to bait him like no other, she knew him... like no one else did. Was it little surprise for the first woman that he loved?

Was it any surprise for the woman that he still loved?

His expression was fixed beneath the mask as her sigh blew through his drums, as he felt her move from behind him to beside him... the place he had always intended for her... but so much had changed since those musing days.

He listened attentively enough as he watched the figures move, the Wolf Lord was quick to leave the podium, it surprised Malum little that he would be a man of few words, it seemed his nature enough, though, as red eyes tracked his movements, there proved another reason for his swiftness.

It was a perplexing sight, it was a sight that annoyed him for a reason that he could not quite place, but he did not quite yet have the ability to alter reality...

...Well he supposed he did in a literal sense, but not in any way which mattered.

So there he was forced to watch, the Twice Failed Emperor, cradling in his arms, the most perplexing woman that he had ever known, the woman that somehow, despite being married to an enemy, an enemy that he loyally and ably served, had brought out of him, after monthly meetings first ordered, and now eagerly attended... affection.

They were no doubt gathering, speaking quickly, the Force subtly pervading outwards to assist his hearing, as many voices filled his drums, and others joined the congregation, a beautiful figure he did not know tagging behind the Zambrano, while a familiar figure... one which, complicated feelings for, could not adequately explain all gathered...

The masked face turned, gazing down to his apprentice... down to his... down to his...

His.

"See that is done swiftly and harshly, the Tsis'Kaar have been raised highly by forewarning the Order of the attack, we will have to maintain such able conduct," He spoke quietly, considering the rest of her words, his heart beating in his chest swiftly and harshly themselves, staring deeply into those red eyes, framed by her raven locks, blue skin which knew every inch of...

He swallowed such thoughts, not now... not ever...

...How many times had he lied to himself about that?

"...I said no quarter in the mines to make our intentions clear, and to drive fear into the heart of the enemy... but if we show it after the fact, we will see the enemy fight to the death, rather than surrendering, send them to Alvaria, we will settle who we can, exchange and ransom those we cannot, and make use of those who are useful." The Alliance stretched across tens of thousands of worlds, the Tsis'Kaar as large as it was, could not cover such distance.

New agents inserted across that polity, would not be remiss at all.

Ansisa

Mentioned: Gerwald Lechner Srina Talon Darth Carnifex Kaila Irons Lina Ovmar

 

[Ansisa]

Ansisa watched him watching the others, her eyes following his, to the group that was gathering around the Empress and her eyes narrowed, a wave of jealousy washing over her. She made a point of knowing of the women that had caught his attention, it was a habit she struggled to lose since they had separated.

Malum could give you his heart, but his loyalty?

She blinked as his masked gaze moved to her, her face rearranging to impassive though she wasn't sure she had been fast enough for him to miss it. The only way she would read him with that damned mask on, was through the bond, and she refused to open it. She refused to risk showing him the twins in her idle thoughts, the children of his she kept hidden.

"It will be, those patrolling the borders have been given kill commands. Nothing will get in or out that does not belong to the Order."

Her feet shifted in his instruction to remove the prisoners to Alvaria, the only sign that she did not agree. She understood the logic, the necessity to appear somewhat merciful once a battle was done, but there would be no usefulness found in these men and women, not without the expenditure of a great deal of energy.

"As you wish, my Lord."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was something in that expression, something which he did not like, but perhaps something that he did? Yet, it was gone as quickly as it had come, so quickly that he was not entirely sure if it had been there at all, or had simply been the overactive imagination of a man who though he did not visibly show it...

...Was exhausted.

Both mentally and physically, the exertions of war, and the guilt of the aftermath weighed upon him as heavy as the armour which he lugged into battle. Though now... he would have rather the weightlessness of a fight, after this anvil which stood over his heart.

He had trained her well, he realised idly, though much of her ability had been there far before he had taken her. Yet, there was so much more he could teach her, she was a knight, but not yet a lord, though... truly was he worthy of such a title?

He simply nodded at the first of her words, he knew that such duty should have fallen upon him, but he doubted that he was in any state to... in fact he doubted he was in much of a state to do what he had planned next, but he knew he that he must... despite all the contradictions of feelings that whirled within him, duty in the face of disgust, loyalty in the face of lethargy, resolve in the face of... rage.

Yet for now, still gazing down at his first apprentice, he could not help but note what she did not keep hidden.

"You disapprove, Darth Anguina?"

Ansisa

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | Kaila Irons | Lina Ovmar

The wolf hated seeing his Empress so frail. He knew the device demanded much. The Butcher and the Executioner both knew what it was she had offered to do. They each played their role, neither deviating from it. Gerwald had wished the burden of what was required had rested on him, but she was the Dread Master. The secrets of the device were still hers, among whatever else she kept from her wolf.

Her answer was… obstinate. Yet, Gerwald knew better than to argue with it. Srina had never been one to rest when her people could not. It was core to who she was, even if wisdom demanded she heed the words of the one most loyal to her. Had their situations been reversed, she would have told him the same thing, and not taken no for an answer. Gerwald simply nodded.

Instructions followed. All those of their enemy which remained were to be rounded up and expelled from the city by whatever means necessary. Gerwald was not interested in letting any of them live, however the absence of his shadow Oleander Webb would mean that whoever they detained would have to remain so for the time being. They would be food for his favorite interrogator later. It was their arrangement.

“As you wish.”

<<< “By order of the Empress the city is to be purged of the Alliance filth which infiltrated this city. Kill all who resist. Those who surrender are to be detained on my ship.” >>>

He did not hesitate to give the order. There were those which would be all too eager to prove themselves to those who had held the city. Gerwald would exploit their willingness for his own purposes in the matter. He simply needed to ensure those detained made it onto his ship, which was the order he had given.

His gaze did not move from the Echani as the voice of someone Gerwald had only seen one time spoke with a tone he deemed to be too familiar. A low growl rose from his throat. Srina did not need his intervention, but the wolf gave it regardless. The newcomer was unfamiliar to him, and the results of the wedding she had been part of disastrous.

Gerwald knew Carnifex had an apprentice at his side. For the moment she ignored him, and the wolf seemed to do the same. It was not a slight by any means. They simply had nothing to say to each other of pertinent value at the moment.

Carnifex laid claim to the worlds.

The wolf could have protested but did not. His presence was required on Jutrand. The Dark Council would convene and plan a counter. They would retaliate. A plan would be formulated and presented to those who needed to know. It would not be difficult to convince those among their ranks which wanted to avoid conflict with the Galactic Alliance. Their strike on Sith Territory was an act of war, and the Sith Order would respond in kind.

“Very well then, the worlds are yours.”

Perhaps there would have been a day when Carnifex would have wanted to hold onto power. Now, the Epicant demonstrated the knowledge of when to release it, or at least establish a proper puppet. Had he been responsible for selecting the one whom he killed, perhaps that man would still be alive.

“I shall be your contact on the Dark Council for this endeavor. When you have readied these worlds for transition, you will inform me of it.”

 

[Ansisa]

She felt a pang of hurt at the use of her Darth name, it always sounded so cold when it came from him. Like he was drawing a line in the sand between them, building a great wall to stop her from getting in. Despite the feeling it left her with, she knew exactly what buttons to push to bring that wall down and for a spiteful moment, she considered doing just that.

Defiance flashed across her eyes as he invited her to challenge him.

"The Tsis'Kaar are yours to command as you see fit, my Lord." There was a hint of venom in the way she uttered his title. "I neither have the station nor the strength to challenge you on such things. If you want to waste resources and energy on low ranking soldiers, far be it for me to argue with you."

She did want to argue with him, but not over this, this was just something they could bicker over in place of the truth that they were both avoiding.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There she was, the one he had fallen for, despite how much she held to her mask, it always came down when it came to him... the only regret was that it usually occurred in moments such as these, when he baited her out of her shell, forcing her to confront him.

Could he exactly blame anyone but himself for that? What more could occur between them?

His mind flashed memories of what exactly could occur between them, what had occured between them. How many times exactly had moments like this, moments perhaps designed exactly like this, led to angry grunts and growls, and far more intimacy than should have been permissible between them?

Too many times.

Not this time, least of all as his ears flickered to the voices coming out from the gathered congregration. Two of them far overstepped their bounds, but in such a way that openly challenging would be far from his want... and the only one that could, far from Echnos.

And Malum wished to be far from his presence.

The other... was in no state to do so... and indeed, Malum imagined that she would not.

Yet for now, his focus was on the woman before him, the venom, the sting, it threatened to be as intoxicating as ever, "You are my Shadow Hand, my apprentice, there are few apart from you who could challenge me... yet, I cannot help but be disappointed, have I not taught you the virtue of mercy? The virtue of utility?" He shook his head, as he began to walk away, expecting her to follow, his mission having been decided, "Kill them all, and they will never surrender, they will fight to the death, and it will be our heads in danger, show them this kindness, and they would rather give up than fight," That was the tool of terror, the tool of fear, not for its own sakes, as he ground his teeth at the order that went over the comms.

How he so wished to countermand it.

"...You have yet to meet the Empress," Malum half-spoke, half-realised, as he arrived closer to his destination... this could hold another use, he knew.

For the Kaggath still loomed heavy over his head.

Ansisa
Mentioned: Gerwald Lechner Darth Carnifex Srina Talon
Arriving: Lina Ovmar Kaila Irons

 

[Ansisa]

Ansisa rolled her eyes and fell into step next to him. "Mercy has its place, on that I do not disagree, but they attacked us, surely if we are to show mercy it would be best done on ground where we won a battle we started?" Her eyes lifted to the direction they were walking in and her expression tightened.

"To show mercy to those who attacked us, to those that caused as much death and destruction tells them we are forgiving and complacent, that such actions are to be tolerated."

Red eyes flicked from one face to the next, lingering for too long on Lina as she clicked her tongue in annoyance. He was really going to make her suffer this, she shot him a sidewards glare before folding back behind her mask of impassiveness.

"The Empress doesn't much look like she's in the condition to be meeting anyone." she muttered.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Tag | Open // Srina Talon // Darth Carnifex // Gerwald Lechner // Lina Ovmar // Kaila Irons​

Almost none had known of the profane nature of the ritual Empyrean had conspired with the Sepulchral to enact. His fleet had been little more than a distraction, a way to buy time, and bait. The Alliance had done exactly as he expected - pushing themselves deeper into Sith territory than they could sustain, and they had paid the price. In the midst of space, orbitting a world still burning, ships littered with the dead floated in various axis. Like tombstones, they each marked a great loss for the Alliance - each a reminder that they faced an opponent they were not ready to handle.​

​

But fear made men do terrible things.​

​

Since his ritual had taken place, many had seen fit to question him directly. The Sith defense fleet over Sluis Van had sustained irreperable damage, and the powers that be reeled to find strength once more. He had long since given the command to chase what remained of the Alliance fleet back into their territory, but the violence enacted upon his own forces had stifled the effort. Even still, it was worth the cost - but so many refuted him in spite of it.​

​

The most vocal had met quick ends. The Emperor was not one to abide a harsh tongue in his presence. More often, however, they spoke in whispers, that he had gone insane - that he was losing himself to power. That perhaps, in spite of the Eternalist's teachings, he had himself gone into the darkness and failed to return. For Empyrean, he knew the truth.​

​

Nothing mattered in his crusade to see the Force rectified. These ships, these people, these sentiments, they were meaningless until his goal was achieved. Let them rail against his actions, but know him for what he was - ruthless, and effective. The Alliance fleet lay dead, scattered, running, and it had only cost him a few thousand lives. In the grand scheme, he had retained control over Sullust, and the Mors Mon prepared the final touches to its battle plan.​

​

In the coming months, the Mors Mon would strike deep into Alliance territory, and they would bear witness to how far he was truly willing to go. There would be no safety to find from him now, not when they had tested him and failed. Not when his Order had seen victory against the greatest military in the Galaxy, and only expected more. That was to be his gift, his penance, to his Empire - Victory, at all costs.​

​

They would not be grateful, the petulant children they were, but they would learn to obey. Power was all that mattered in this Order, and for all the Sith had rebuilt since the fall of the last Empire, none yet could stand against him. No matter how much they whispered conspiracy to themselves. With a step, the Emperor fell away from the bridge of the Khan Class Star Destroyer his Legates prepared themselves upon, and to the weak presence of his wife.​

​

Like a screech in the Force, painful to the senses, the Emperor strode betwixt reality itself. It bent and broke on his command, and with a single step he traversed light years. He held the staff that had done the deed of consigning tens of thousands to their death only hours before, but his arm of energy had receeded to be little more than a pulsing cloud where his heart should have been.​

Metal eyes glanced between those gathered, before settling on Darth Carnifex and Srina Talon .​

​

"Sluis Van has been held, and the Alliance spearhead has been broken. The Mors Mon and the First Legion are finalizing the last details of their assault, and then we will strike back.", he offered flatly, his attention carefully studying Srina more than anything else.​

​

"My love.", he said after a second of consideration. There was an unspoken question in it, hidden between intentions and tonality. He wanted to know if she was okay, if she needed him, or what was left of him. While his Empire planned his murder, his concerns had fallen away, down to the very distinct point of contention - the safety and health of his wife.​