Dominion In the Shadow of Doom | NIO Dominion of Diab

[Trajan Fett]

​

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION GOD SLAYER
// FOCUS // Lucien Dooku

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The expressionless T-Visor of Trajan's characteristic Mandalorian visage followed the First Brother as he began to enter the depths of the Prism. Hefting his shoulders in a brief shrug he looked back toward Dooku - his expression indiscernible beneath his worn and chipped olive green and oxide red helmet.

"Trajan, Kurze, Mando...it's all the same to me." The Mancatcher offered with his words dipped in shades of apathy before he clasped the 'Drago' pattern disruptor in both hands from its resting position over his cloaked shoulder.

As soon as they broke away from the group in the midst of their preparation...planning...whatever Sith got up to, Trajan seemed to approach the mouth of the foreboding fortress with an aura of ease about him with each heavy step that seemed to let off the characteristic jingle of a Mandalorian in his full panoply of war...or in this case, the hunt.

With the lifeform scanners in his helmet well in active he merely picked up the shimmering blips of movement within the Prism.

"So tell me this, what has you running with this brand of Imperials?" He could put two and two enough easily on his own, probably the same going Trajan's way given they were both men away from a home under the boot heel of Sith rule. Even still it took a great deal to move a man to these lengths. As evidence had shown, a vast majority of the Sith Imperials were merely content to begrudgingly live under its rule.

"Seems like everyone has to pick a side nowadays...for better or worse." Trajan said as they splintered off and down a seperate corridor, undisturbed until a loud clatter sounded out behind a sealed door, the Mandalorian stopping still in his tracks, snapping his gaze toward the sound's origin as he shouldered the disruptor carbine.

"Looks like we've got company after all..." Kurze said before he slowly lowered the hand around the heatsink of his disruptor, slamming his thumb unto the button to open the door. On the other side the dim florescance flickered down a long beaten down elevator shaft - a piece of metallic debris plummeting down toward the top of the lift resting at the bottom of the vertical corridor.

"Huh...up or down?" He asked in his characteristic placid and apathetic tone, glancing back toward the Prince of Serenno with his familiar expressionless T-Visor.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

THE PRISM, DIAB 6
OPERATION GOD SLAYER
TEAMING UP WITH Trajan Fett
C H A N G E
-​

"Trajan it is, then." Lucien replied to the Mando's introduction with a grin as the pair of warriors broke off from the bulk of the group to proceed down their own hunting path. He'd never worked with a Mandalorian before, although he'd ran into his fair share of the kind that served under the Sith Empire for reasons that escaped him, all things considered. "You can just call me Luc, by the way. I prefer it over Prince, if i'm being honest." Afterwards he slowed his pace to maintain a small gap between him and Trajan as to keep their rear protected in the off-chance that the station's inhabitants planned on getting the drop of them.

The tension in the air began to ease up slightly as the Mandalorian continued to make small talk with Lucien, something he didn't necessarily expect when the Mando agreed to team up with him back at the disembark point. He wanted to know what Lucien was doing with the Order- a good question, since it seemed clear to Luc that he didn't quite fit the mold, aside from their mutual disdain for the Empire. "I was there when the Sith decided to blockade the Pabol Hutta in response to the refugees that were fleeing towards the Silver worlds en masse." Luc spoke up, his hands shifting from his sides and into his pockets as they walked. "Up until then I was fine being exiled from my homeworld. I was pretty happy with just travelin' the stars, hunting for holocrons, making the occasional enemy and running cargo with my friends, y'know?" He paused to contemplate how to say what he wanted without being perceived as wanting to give his life story.

"I guess I was content with avoiding the issue that is the Empire until I saw them slag refugee ships with my own eyes. After that, I wanted to do something; I wanted to fight back, instead of ignoring the issue like before." He shrugged. "Not to sound cliche, but I listened to the force for once on this one. The Order was the best option for me to fight the Sith to my heart's content. I don't want to forever labeled as some carefree kid, ignoring the galaxy's bigger issues like i've done my whole life. For better or for worse." Luc came to a pause on Trajan's command once he finished speaking. The Mando had heard something once the two splintered off down a corridor which ended in the sealed doors to a turbolift. Opening it revealed that the lift had long been out of commission, and the choice between going up or down was left to him to decide. Luc peaked into the opening, his eyes trailing from the bottom to the top as he gauged the proper decision to make.

The force couldn't guide him in a place that was drenched so heavily in the presence of the dark. As morally ambigious as he was, Luc was a farcry from utilizing the power of the dark side to accomplish his means. It didn't mean he strictly followed the Light either, but the cloudiness of his already limited foresight remained the same. He looked back towards the Mando with a smirk. Luc stepped towards the open shaft and pivoted to face Trajan with a two-finger salute perched near his eyebrow. "Down it is." He commented, then stepped backwards into the darkness in a daring jump towards the bottom. It appeared far more dangerous than he let on, as the use of the force aided in slowing his descent down to a manageable freefall to the top of the lift beneath him. As for Trajan, Luc assumed the Mandolorian had a jet-pack to help him get down.

All Mandalorians carried jet-packs, right?​

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Objective II : Operation: ‘God Slayer’ // Diab 6
Location : Prism
Tags : Tarrik Kestis Trajan Fett Lucien Dooku Ravraa Vyshraal Avernus

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The woman channeled the last of her self control abandoning her ‘master’ to his glories. Her role as an Operative had never truly been tested, she was a pack animal and for the longest time marched at the head of a column. She was out of her element she realized but Lyra steeled herself when her boots hit the ramp. Skilled hands roamed over the carbine she had packed along, prepping the ammunition. A flurry of dark robes too light, speed would favor her at the least. One careful hand guided to the hood over her face as she stalked across the bay, the others well on their way.

She’d take it for a test of wills.

The rest of the operation was already splitting up and she casted a glance over her shoulder as if waiting for the Sith Pureblood to come barreling down-she did not want to witness that. When the Inquisitor ignited his saber, the hellish red drew the eyes and Lyra weighed her options. She tried not to linger on her worries in regards to their presence.

Without command or cue her footstep faltered and she slowed, her eyes roamed over the dark place. Lyra hadn’t paid much mind to the history, but was beginning to understand the Force had a way of leaving it’s echo. For all her bravado, there was an overwhelming presence of something nefarious that had decided to stink up air.

Experimental genetic testing was what she recalled from the brief and her stomach churned. A charged blaster cannon would have solved the entirety of the issue of the Prism, exhaling she pushed herself onward resolutely to get to work. She traded the blaster to left, the weight an odd sensation compared to a proper rifle. Regarding the line of legionnaires on standby. She would have expected the force corps as a more appropriate choice.

“I wouldn’t split up if I were you gentlemen,” she warned the soldiers.

Willing charging in after a darksider, or were they Sith? She wasn't interested in the debate, her footsteps soft; the cold of space wrapping itself around her. Turning her eyes back on the dark corridor before her, fire chicken be damned and she raced in after the Inquisitor...

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Torment , In orbit of Diab
Objective | Operation Shatterpoint
Forces | Relentless | Cataclysm | Vanquisher | x10 Tie Drone Squadrons [240 Total] | x12 Tie Outlander Squadrons [192 Total] | x6 Tie Mauler Squadrons [48 Total] | 6x Tie Bruiser Squadrons [48 Total]
Direct Tags | Irveric Tavlar | Logan | Kestus Bralor | Merlon Assail

"Sir we've received an order from the Sovereign Imperator to target the Lugubraa and then sweep against the Sith Cultists" said a Lieutenant upon receiving the transmission sent from the Epitaph II. "Deploy the Tie Bruisers and Tie Outlanders and keep the rest of our Fighters in reserve. Keep the Fleet at distance from the battle. We can't afford losing a vessel." Ordered Captain Sularen. "Yes sir it will be done" Replied the Lieutenant.

Soon the Tie Bruisers would come out of the Hangars of both the Cataclysm and Vanquisher along with Tie Outlanders from the two ships and the Torment. The Strategy was simple. With the Tie Bruisers lagged behind the Tie Outlanders as the Latter would moved forth to launch a first attack run against the Lugubraa with the intent of disrupting their charge towards the Epitaph to allow the devastating Tie Bruisers to unleash their firepower on the disrupted Lugubraa to hopefully scatter them and to allow reinforcing Tie Drone to sweep up the remaining Lugubraa.

With that strategy set , the first Tie Outlanders moved forth to strike at the Lugubraa , killing only approximately 2 dozen of them given that their thicc Skin provided them with protection and made it harder for the Ties to take them down. As the Tie Outlanders zoomed by the Lugubraa , some managed to reach a few fighters and began to slowly consume them , slowly chewing through armor. Then the more effective Tie Bruisers arrived cutting down the Lugubraa and killing almost twice the amount of Lugubraa that the Outlanders had killed. However despite this attack there where still many Lugubraa at large and some of them had begun slowly consuming a few Fighters with the Fighters moving forth to launch their second attack run.

 

[Apollo Kurze]

IN & AROUND THE EPITAH II
OPERATION SCATTERPOINT
HUNTIN' SENTIENT SPACE WORMS
FLIGHT ONE, ROYAL SQUADRON
S A N G U I N E P A R A D I S E
-​

Following their triumph in the skies of Verloeem, Royal Squadron was temporarily reassigned to the Imperator's flagship for the duration of their next assignment out in the void. Flight One's spirits were especially high, so when the general call to mobilize was issued in the middle of a friendly game of sabacc, all of the boys were eager to hit the hangar without fuss to their squadron commander. All except for Cassian, that is, who was halfway to victory when the alarms started to blare out across their barracks. "Well shit." He downed the rest of his beer as the entire barracks lit with activity and bodies began flooding out to deal with an imminent threat. Cassian waited till most of the guys had left and scooped the leftover credits into his hands. "I was going to win anyway." He let out as he moved to place them beneath his bunk's sheets for safekeeping.

With that done, he rejoined up with his flights a couple minutes later, fully-dressed in his flight suit and making his wis towards his Interceptor. Flight One was ready by the time he'd arrived, and they were leading the way out of the hangar after Cassian finished warming up his fighter. Flight One boosted into the void in a combat spread formation, guns at the ready after being briefed at the near imminent threat that was in the process of boarding their vessel. "This isn't what I was expecting, boys." Duke let out a laugh as their Flight navigated in and around a swarm of worm-like beasts that were traversing through the void on an intercept course with their home vessel.

"What, were you expecting more crack squadrons of Cultists? I'll take the unarmored space worms, anyday." Sirius responded, just as his laser cannons were brought to life and vaporized a group of the Lugubra that moved into his path. The rest of the Flight joined in on the action, as their presence was no longer being ignored after making the first strike against their targets. A fair amount moved to intercept them while the majority continued moving towards the ship. The far more agile fighters were blasting them left and right with impunity, but their numbers didn't dwindle fast enough to prevent the horde from reaching the ship's hull.

Cassian, on the other hand, was having the time of his life fighting these Lugubra. Laser cannons spewed out a continuous stream of high-powered bolts as he cut a line straight through the section of the horde that kept them occupied, seemingly clearing a path towards the ship. The rest of his Flight joined him from the rear, their thrusters activated for long enough for them to enter a wedge formation behind Cassian's lead. Their combined firepower allowed the Flight to blow their way right through to the Epitah II. Cassian finished the job with a pair of missiles ensuring that anything at the end of their path was no longer a threat to their continued advance.

Once they had cleared their way through the horde's numbers, pulling his interceptor into a low-pass over the Epitah's hull. Afterwards he pulled back to the right of the wedge, allowing Jester to take his spot at the head as the actual in-charge Flight Leader. "We're sticking close to the Epitah, folks. Gun down the worms as they come to board the ship while the rest of our flyboys keep up the sortie with the main body." Jester pinged the rest of his squadron with their updated objective. "Fifty credits says I can slag the space worms on the hull without searing the ship." Cassian replied.

"A hundred credits says you'll use missiles and end up brigged on the Imperator's flagship."


Irveric Tavlar Marlon Sularen Kestus Bralor Logan Belisarius

 

[Whispers of Annihilation]

// A PROMISED END //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION: 'GOD SLAYER' // SLAUGHTER THE INTERLOPERS //
// FOCUS // Trajan Fett // Lucien Dooku // Avernus // Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt // Tarrik Kestis // Kaleo Malistern // Smeg // Ravraa Vyshraal

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Deep within the Prism, a gaunt hand stroked a narrow chin. Faeren Daol gazed upon a dozen or so holoprojectors, all showcasing the presence of this New Imperial Order. A sane man would probably show a sense of concern or fear with the sudden arrival of so many armed and capable killers. The mad Jedi could feel the Sith Lord's power above all else in the station, radiating like a blizzard, rage, and hatred centered around the pureblood Sith. It brought a broad smile to his thin lips. Daol awaited such a moment for many years. Long forgotten by the Silver Jedi he once served, he lorded over this station for far too long, hoping the day he could return home to his family, and his people could not be far off. Yet, that day never came. Left to his own devices, the lost Jedi turned his growing rage onto his charges.​

​

Faeren Daol looked across the room to a deformed monstrosity. Once a man, this horrid creature's flesh wrapped around a series of cybernetic implants burrowing beneath his skin. ​

​

"Open the cells, my sweet," Faeren's gentle voice, dripping with the cosmic influence of the force, reached the broken man's ears. "We have guests to entertain. I would hate for your brothers and sisters to miss this wonderful opportunity. Its been far too long since anyone new has come to join our lovely family."​

​

The mad Jedi turned away as the monstrous man turned and shuffled off, dragging an oversized arm behind him. Faeren stepped back up to the security console and ran his hand along the cold, metallic surface. His fingers soon found a small blinking button, which he pressed down. At his command, station-wide communications answered his call.​

​

"I am glad our home once more sees use. Welcome, children of the New Imperial Order," Faeren paused, listening to the echo of his words ringing through the station. "While you have trespassed into our home uninvited, we would not be so rude as to turn you away. Instead, my children and I hope to welcome you with open arms. Please do not be alarmed when they come to introduce themselves as they can be a bit excitable. It is unfortunate, so few of you were dispatched to visit us. Perhaps, more of you will come to visit when we've found a proper place for you all within our forgotten halls. I look forward to meeting you all when this is over and done with."​

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An abrupt end claimed the short line of communication as the transmission cut out. In its stead, the sound of distant movement reached the New Imperial Order. It was not the movement of marching soldiers or clanking droids, but instead, the sound of rabid beasts on the prowl. The dragging, banging, and pounding noise of these charging horrors echoed throughout the empty station, masking the number of malformed bodies moving to greet the latest arrivals to the Prism.​

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And suddenly, there is only silence.​

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"Buzz, do you have eyes on anything?" Captain Harrow asked, small beams of light illuminating the shadows before him.​

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"Negative, captain."​

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"Alright, fall in. We'll clear the mess and report back to Colonel Voi'kryt and her company," Harrow ordered as he stepped up to an ajar blast door. He took hold of one side as Buzz stepped up to the other. Together, the duo pulled the doors apart, a screeching metal sound calling out to the shadows of the station. With the path cleared, Captain Harrow took point, raised his blaster, and marched into the barren mess hall. He illuminated maybe a dozen feet before him, searching for anything out of the ordinary. "Fan out, Buzz, you're with me. Tank, Bongo, sweep towards the medical bay and await further orders."​

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The trio of stormtroopers sounded their agreement before breaking apart into two smaller cells. Harrow and Buzz pushed up along the northern wall of the mess, their blasters sweeping from one side to the other as they pierced through the darkened room. Their movements were fluid and precise, only faltering as two horrified screams across the mess hall broke the silence. Harrow raised a hand and pressed himself to the wall.​

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"Tank, come back to me," the Captain called over the commlink. Rather than receive an answer over the line, pained cries for help once more sounded from deeper from the mess. "We need to fall back and regroup. On me, Buz-" he turned mid-sentence, only to come face to face with a twisted creature. Shards of metal dug into the being's skull, light charges of electrical energy bouncing between them. Its eyes were carved from its head, the sockets agape. The creature's lips split into a wide grin, rows of jagged teeth lit up by the Captain's helmet-lights. Before Harrow or Buzz could act, two meaty hands reached forward and slammed into their helmeted heads.​

 

[Mazrim Caide/Taim]

Objective: God Slayer

Taim saw the massive floating prison in the distance. He Had no link to the force, but his soldier’s intuition told him to be wary. Using the Sparrowhawk’s general speed and maneuverability to deftly dodge the lasers, managing to only take a few grazing hits, he lands safely in the hangar bay. Seeing it already secured by a garrison of NIO troops was a relief, at least he didn’t need to waste ammo doing it himself. He rolls his shoulders and stretches, his back a bit stiff from the evasive maneuvering, and puts his jet black helmet on, the plate visor reflecting the light to create an impassive, cold mask that gives away nothing. Walking off the ship with his slugthrower Ktec 20gx carbine cradled in his arms and his other weapons strapped to his armor, he exits his vessel and looks to what he assumes is a leader in Ravraa Vyshraal .
“Hello. I was hired to assist in this operation.”
His voice is cold and impassive, the built in voice modulator in his mask giving him an otherworldly, slightly robotic tone. The mercenary Taim has
arrived.

 

[Wilhuff Krieg]

// SHIPMASTER //
// OBJECTIVE // Operation Shatterpoint
// FOCUS // Marlon Sularen | Apollo Kurze

Spoiler: Patrol Group 'Mythosaur'

Corvus-class Frigate...........[ 100 // 100 ]
Picket // Anti-starfighter
TIE/INx..[2x12]
TIE/OTx..[1x16]
Corvus-class Frigate...........[ 100 // 100 ]
Picket // Anti-starfighter
TIE/INx..[2x12]
TIE/OTx..[1x16]
Vandal-class Corvette..........[ 100 // 100 ]
Corvette // Anti-starfighter, battleline
Vandal-class Corvette..........[ 100 // 100 ]
Corvette // Anti-starfighter, battleline
Vandal-class Corvette..........[ 100 // 100 ]
Corvette // Anti-starfighter, battleline
Praefect-class Star Destroyer..[ 100 // 100 ]
Star Destroyer // Battleline
TIE/HF...[3x12]
TIE/DF...[2x24]
TIE/OTx..[1x16]
TIE/HB...[2x8]

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<"A what?"> The Mandalorian asked, furrowing his brow beneath the grey and gold T-visor of his Beskar'gam, shifting his gaze toward the comms officer at the helm of his Praefect-class Star Destroyer.

"<A horde of...Lugubraa, Al'verde.>" She offered with a placid inflection with only the faintest shade of urgency in her tone. It was still the Epitaph II afterall, if it was in trouble, something was truly wrong.

<"...Right...well...we won't ignore the Imperator's command, set the jump - if we can appear beneath the Imperator's vessel that may very well be ideal, break whatever encirclement they're within."> He said before soon enough the segmented viewports shifting the starlit void of the cosmos into streaking blue starlight as the fleet left its geosynchronous orbit over the newly subjugated world of Krieg. Being that Kestus was a by the creed Mandalorian, he was the most apt military overseer for the world with the New Imperial Order's loose grasp over its growing territory, the Mandalorian Shipmaster all but assuring that the populace would retain its friendly disposition toward the newly established Imperial governance.

Emerging into the thick of it, Bralor took a brief appraisal of the situation before he nodded once.

<"Scramble the fighters and have one of our pickets sweep up those..."> He interupted himself with a sigh.

<"Lugubraa..."> He offered with a low grunt. As such was the matter of the day regardless.

<"If its any reassurance, sir...they've scrambled 'Royal Squadron' to assail the parasites.">

<"This day only gets more interesting..."> The Mandalorian offered in return.

 

[Jekadius Lawson]

Law found himself on the Epitaph II as screams of invaders, defenders, and dying mingled in the air with the cry of sirens. His master Imperial Knight Vatn Yenth believed that the Knight Errant needed more combat experience before challenging a mad Jedi so the two had been patrolling the ship expanding on Law's understanding of the Codex when the invaders hit. Law had experience in repelling attackers from his time as a Sith guarddog but he was still new in the NIO and his desire to appear competent froze him for a moment. His master already four long strides ahead of him Law sprinted to catch back up. As they ran Law tried to open his mind to the force to find where the combat was the thickest like he had been taught but it was so much like trying to hear a cup break as a tornado ripped its way through a kitchen. The two Imperials turned a corner to find eight cultists opposite them. Law stopped sliding into his defensive stance and deflecting a barrage of blaster fire but his master kept going, sprinting into the center of the formation and lightsaber a whirlwind of death.

"Do not be afraid to attack, a good defense is only as good as it's counter-attack." Vatn said before resuming his charge down the hall.

As always Law took his master's words as scripture. He had wasted years under the Sith, happy to accept scraps and carrion but if he was to grow into someone who would be able to help return order to this world then he had to get better, he had to grow. The two continued sprinting down the halls and the sounds of combat grew louder. Finally stumbling upon a group of troupers, Norbert Wilhelm, engaged in a firefight. Here's my chance! Law thought as he charged forward, he planned to form up with the engaged soldiers.

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Objective III: Personal Leave time

After his time on Aeten II Kezeroth had requested personal leave time to further evaluate his mental. His choice. Within the barracks and located sitting on his bed he was left behind with his thought and none stood to contest him. Removing his helmet and placing it gently in his lap he looked down to his armored chest piece. He removed it with a tug of its fastens. Warm textures of visceral muscle and nerve were exposed to colder airs. Protruding from his left tensed pectoral muscle was a small metal rod. Rebar.

His hand covered it briefly. Grasping it he paused. He hesitated and then pull it out without even a wince of pain. He had endured so much, this wasn't even a sting to him. Still holding the rebar he hovered the gripped piece of metal over his bed.

He dropped it.

Then he felt it all once again.

The Force...

 

[Gat Tambor]

// TAMBOR TIME //
[ OPERATION SHATTERPOINT ]​

The Director of the New Imperial Order's economic happened to be conducting a routine diagnostic upon the Epitaph II , the very pride of the New Imperial Order's Armada. It was for all intents and purpose, a prototype of the Technoid Manufactorum even still to lend development wisdom toward future projects on behalf of this fledgling regime. Hearing the blaring sirens of alert aboard the ship, Tambor floated in cool calmness blast the rocking of boarding pods, errant explosions and blaster fire. Making way into his personal workshop aboard the ship, he set himself into the arming apparatus of his patented Turbo Annihilator Class Skakoan Super Juggernaut Power Armor (or Turbo Annihilator Super Juggernaut Power Armor)

Emerging into the fray of battle he approached one of the boarding Lugubraa with a terrifying servo enhanced charge, taking up one of the parasites by the neck in his free hand before blasting it in the face with a long flush of its wrist mounted flamethrower before disregarding it to the side. The Tyrant Of Trade, the Skakoan Lord Of War himself had emerged.

 

[Shira Varanin]

How Lord Colonel Kolson Vrask had received his injuries, Shira did not know. In fact she was sort of fuzzy on whether he'd been injured at all, or whether he or his superiors had simply decided that he needed to borg it up. Her role here was not, in any sense, technical.

Ever since iBorg came to own 22% of her by volume and 35% by mass, she'd become rather used to being one of iBorg's visual aids.

They'd instructed her to wear something simple and professional that showed off her extensive cybernetics. Plain clothes added to her sense of alienation aboard this NIO vessel, surrounded by imperial-style uniforms and aesthetics. She stood tall and pretended to watch the cybernetic fitting procedures from a viewing gallery populated by officers who looked like intelligence and medical research types. iBorg sales and research people kept up a running dialogue, explaining each implant. The Steadfast, to control pain and the fight-or-flight response. The Encoil, to protect the spine and brain, and to add Aurek and Zerek sockets for additional modular capabilities. The Nyax, an arm containing a gorram ion disruptor. And many, many other bits and pieces from the iBorg catalog and the prototype labs at Santora Cove.

No doubt the Lord Colonel would own 100% of himself. Well, maybe not: maybe his empire would own him more than it already did.

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Midst the dark it comes.
When dusk settles, it arrives.
A twisted maelstrom.

They are psychic screams.
Splinters. Rattling the psyche.
Inner pounding heart.
​

Iron manacles.
Incarcerated, it grips.
Relentless, its fear.
​

" To take orders. Ive taken orders for 1500 years. Unwillingly. Why now the choice to return to it now? How much would I change by mastering this aspect."

​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

​

// PULSAR //
// OBJECTIVE // Operation Shatterpoint
// FOCUS // Shira Varanin

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The foreboding crimson gaze of the Chiss shot open from the operating table. Full conscious he felt the cold instruments mold more and more of mortal form into a warped machination of cybernetic components. Whilst nanogenes crafted by the Silver Shield Group were at the concluding stages of development. Had he not undergone a horrid ritual procedure prior that rendered him untethered from any force connection, the Adekon Nanogenes would have done so for him. With cybernetic enhancements developed by iBorg.

While this corporation seemed to have ties to the far more 'hands off' Outer Planets Alliance, the New Imperial Order was rather pragmatic in who it conducted business with. If the product was the best in line, it was the best in line. Political ties wouldn't muster anything to change conduct otherwise in the eyes of the New Imperial Order.

Slowly lifting himself from the operating apparatus the Chiss peered over his newly installed artificial limb. Curling the fingers if only to appraise the accuracy of the servos he rolled his neck to feel the Encoil with the installed Steadfast and Disruption Node fixed to the back of his head and neck. When he awoke he was still largely fixed into his suit of Tenebrae power armor. Pulling the helmet back over his head his crimson gaze would be replaced with the very same hue except rendered brighter and far more foreboding from the helmet's lenses.

Peering over the iBorg personnel with the characteristic gaze of the New Imperial 'Darktrooper' helmet as they droned on over his new enhancements he merely nodded in return before shifting past them and out of the operating room at the sound of the alarms. The New Imperial Order's acquisitions department would relay their gratefulness be it in the form of credits or otherwise later but for now, no one really should've expected any different from the characteristically silent and terrifying Chiss commando as he sought to join the fray.

 

[Trajan Fett]

​

// MANCATCHER //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION GOD SLAYER
// FOCUS // Lucien Dooku | Whispers of Annihilation
// THEME // No one even invited you

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"Luc it is then, though hell if I was a Prince I wouldn't let anyone forget it. Regardless...I'm more or less in the same boat. They took n' torched Mandalore. I fought hard there...they put my wife and kid to death and torched my homestead. I turned around and didn't care to look back after that - figured I could put myself to use hunting at the very least but...can only be away from home so long." He says before letting a moment of silence creep in the air.

"Especially knowing what they're doing to it, so I hear ya kid...I hear ya. Sometimes you just gotta grow up and face down the real fuckin' problems, even if they're a hell of a lot bigger than you...seems like you were a lot quicker to the draw than I was. Took me too damn long of chasing credits to realize that." Trajan remarked as they continued down the hall.

Seeing Luc drop down the elevator shaft with force imbued Princely elegance the Mandalorian offered a nod before peering up the long vertical corridor.

"Down it is." Trajan offered before he jumped down carelessly, offering a few pulses of the repulsors mounted to his boots before the Mandalorian slammed down unto the durasteel exterior to the elevator cabin. Spotting the maintainence hatch he leaned down to press the button to force it open, only to cause a power outage from the errant lights through the elevator shaft, leaving them in blackness.

"Alright." Kurze offered before he, flicked the side of helmet, releasing a beam of light along the top of his T-visor. Activating the plasma torch fixed to his Mandalorian vambrace he traced a circle from the maintainence hatch before standing back up. Raising his leg up into the air he jutted it back down to quad stomp the weakened bond of the metal down unto the floor beneath, sending a faint plume of smoke up in its wake before he jumped down after it.

Slamming down unto the floor of the elevator he stood back up, stepping out of the way before he looked over the half open elevator door snapping and cracking with errant electric shocks from long burnt out circuits. Slinging his disruptor carbine over his shoulder her reached to grasp ahold of one of the elevator doors with his crushgaunts, straining himself only slightly to push it out of the way.

Only for one of the beasts released by the Jedi to spring from the darkness toward the Mando, quick to bite down into his shoulder, struggling to make purchase into the Beskar steel. Seemingly placid the Mando turn toward it, activating the knuckle mounted vibroblade it slammed the metal into the beast's abdomen before pushing it off with its other hand in a crushgaunt enhanced bludgeon, with that arm already pointed in the direction of the creature he fired off a three round pulse from the wrist laser before unslinging his main weapon once more.

"Well...looks like we're in the shit now." Trajan offered.

 

[Shira Varanin]

Up in the observation gallery, Shira clamped down on what she recognized as physical fear. The armored Chiss down there had just undergone several highly invasive surgical and nanotechnological procedures. And was now heading straight back out to battle.

To make matters significantly worse, he was a void in the Force so far as she could discern, like he'd ripped himself out of the natural world.

Yup. Colonel Kolson Vrask was stanged terrifying.

Jedi skills and cybernetics would let her clamp down harder on that fear, but she let it have its way. Fear could keep you alive. Jedi teachings didn't really recognize that, not like what she'd learned in the service. She gave fear and apprehension their proportionate place, and got up to help the iBorg people gladhand an empire.

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Honed to middle eyes.
Footloose of its manumit.
Such consternation.​

A winsome appeal.
It drives flourishing zephyrs.
Beholden appraise.​

For life is beauty.
So feel this wrinkle in time.
As if it twas last.

" Why should I hold back who and what I am?!" He shouted. Objects in the room shook riding a wave in the force.
There was a decision to make...​

 

[Lucien Dooku]

THE PRISM, DIAB 6
OPERATION GOD SLAYER
TEAMING UP WITH Trajan Fett
T H E N A M E L E S S O N E
-​

"Well shit, Trajan." Luc spoke up after letting Trajan finish his story. The man had a hard life, far harder than the struggles that Lucien had overcome thus far in his life. Although he'd lost his family too, in a sense, they were at least alive. He couldn't imagine what he'd go through after knowing that everything he cared about was ripped from existence at the hands of some overzealous dark-side cultists. "I know it probably doesn't mean much, all things considered, but there are still some decent people in the Empire. The Sith just complicate things for the little guys." He finished with a soft smile, then proceeded to jump down the open shaft with a two-finger salute.

Lucien slowed his descent with the force, eventually coming to a graceful drop with his knees and hands bracing his body from stumbling about upon impact. He stepped off to the side once Trajan joined him at the top and proceeded to get to work opening up the hatch leading into the lift. An ear raised up from him shortly after, the feint sound of a man's voice being broadcasted through the corridors catching his attention, although too feint for them to clearly hear from inside the turbolift shaft. "You catch that?" He asked Trajan, who proceeded to kick in the maintenance hatch and jump inside the lift. The same feeling he had when the group initially arrived into the hangar bay overcame his senses upon their entry into the lift, albeit stronger and more concentrated than before. A chill resonated across his body as he shut his eyes momentarily, focusing on his senses to try and perceive just what he was feeling around... or perhaps near to them.

His companion, to his knowledge, was not trained nor sensitive to the force like he was. Luc couldn't perceive much when he peered deep into the Prism, but the darkness around them fel as if it were waiting for them to strike; to envelop them as soon as they were vulnerable in the eyes of whoever, or whatever, was out there. "Something bad is waitin' for us, Mando." Luc spoke up once Trajan moved to force open the half-closed elevator door blocking their way. The being stalking them revealed itself in a surprise attack on the Beskar-clad warrior, biting into his shoulder with enough force to have easily killed an unarmored man with ease. Its initial attack proved ineffective despite the advantage it held from the beginning. Its teeth couldn't pierce through the Beskar, and the Mandalorian followed up with enough firepower and retaliatory strikes to cull the life out of the beast while remaining unscathed.

Admittedly it was great to see Trajan in action against something as ferocious as the creature they'd just come across. Armed with the various weapons and gadgets attached to his suit of armor, the Mandalorian displayed skill that was far more representative of the Mandalorians of old that he'd romanticized about in fact and fiction. The ones he'd fought against that served the Sith were a far cry from the performance that he'd seen just then, and he was glad to see that stain in his memory replaced with a much better representation of their kind.

Trajan commented on their situation after he finished dealing with the beast, and Luc chuckled now that his spirit was much higher than before. "Well there's always up." He began, his lightsaber entering his hand as he stepped past Trajan to make his way into the corridor. "But i'm guessing our 'friends' up top are knee deep in the same issues that we are by now... Plus I can't sense a damn thing in this dark-forsaken prison. These...things-- They're not the cultists and Dark Jedi that we were expecting. They're abominations, and not the kind that naturally evolve in the wild." Once he moved past the man, the aqua-blue blade beamed to life at his side. They may have been in the shit, but at least they weren't alone to deal with whatever their enemies were throwing at them. Trajan's victory in their first encounter revealed that the beasts could be felled by blade and blaster, which meant a lightsaber should've been much more effective in these tight and confined spaces.

Whispers of Annihilation

 

[Norbert Wilhelm]

Wilhelm was running low on patience and time as the bodies began to pile up in the hole that was cut through the blast doors. The rush of cultists seemed to have subsided after the first dozen bodies were shot dead at the entry point, but the endless waves of worms slowly pushing closer and closer to their position was starting to become a real issue. It wouldn't be long before they were overrun if things kept up at this rate. His blaster clicked empty as he took cover, back pressed to the crates as he reached down to his belt to grab a power cell. He'd glance up to see a Force Knight on the opposite end of the hallway as he rammed the power cell into his rifle before shouting at him, " Oi! Glowstick! Make yaself useful and help us out ova' 'ere! "

A worm would squirm and slither its way over the crate as Wilhelm finished loading his weapon and getting it ready, swinging his rifle like a bat as he smashed the creature into the crate before flipping his rifle in hand and taking aim, firing a pair of shots to ensure it was dead before he returned his focus to the hallway being swarmed by bugs, shouting over his shoulder, " Try to watch ya step. Lots of shab all over the deck makes for a slippery mess. "

Jekadius Lawson ​

 

[Tarrik Kestis]

Objective: 2 Godslayer
Nearby: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt Lucien Dooku Trajan Fett Avernus Kaleo Malistern Smeg Ravraa Vyshraal

The Inquisitor pressed on, moved by the aura of the Rogue Jedi. As an Inquisitor, his role was to hunt down all those that stood in the way of the New Order. He would not wait, nor falter for those that would follow him or not. Leaving the rest of the party behind to enter the dark depths. Only the likes of his lightsaber that ignited the halls, it wasn't before long that he sensed one of the party began to follow him. Feeling around, reaching out with the Force. He could feel emotions, some of them conflicting, it wasn't entirely clear as his gifts in reading people were still slowly manifesting. Enhanced by the everlasting power of the dark side he could feel things he never thought he would feel. Wield power unlike any other, this is what had shaped him into what his master made him out to be. To serve what would he would call "The New Empire."

First Brother didn't mind the company, even feeling out his new traveling companion, she was strong in the dark side. Such things had made him curious, what was her purpose? Would she not join as an Inquisitor? Was she a Sith perhaps? Apprenticed to one of the more clandestine figures of the New Order such as his own Master. He wouldn't even know where to start, or how to pry. For the moment nothing was said between the two. All the while he gave a look through the openings of the mask stuck to his entire head. His own yellow eyes lit amidst the dark eerie halls of the prison. Perhaps there were ghost here after all.

Moving in, it wasn't before long before their quarry had greeted all of them. Tarrik gritted his teeth, the sooner he could end the Jedi the better. He did not wish to fail Vaulkhar, and everyone knew what the price of failure. Staring all around, even listening to the comm frequencies of the new "friends" They would make in the old station. He looked at the one that was following beside him. Reaching out with the Force, he could sense danger growing. Moving swiftly as if it would consume them. "Stay close and be wary... Our enemy might not have made this as simple as we thought it would be." He said with some slight irritability.

It wasn't before long that the beasts shaped by the dark side emerged from the dark. He sensed nothing more than rage and a primal hunger to them. As if that was the very purpose they were made was to feed. "They are here!" He said igniting the other end of his saber. The circular disk spinning, as then with a move of his wrist the spinning blade was sent flying cutting open into one of the beasts, letting out a loathsome cry. Snarling at him they were pushed on the defensive as the spinning blade drove them back, before returning to the Inquisitor's hand. Moving on towards them he looked back. "Lets see if these beasts can lead us to their master."