Invasion Iron Rain | EE Invasion of TSE-held PL-40112-CE-021105

[Lirka Ka]

Location: Landing Zone
Enemeis: EE and Allies
Allies: TSE and Allies
Tags: N/A, looking for dance partner

Hatred burned in Lirka's heart like an inferno, she had been cheated from her birthright once again: so close did Thustra stand, so close to her grasp. And more and more upstarts, those galactic tumors, grew bold, they hopelessly thrashed out against the Empire. At least she took the smallest solice in it being the Eternal Empire they fought today: had she been in a brighter mood, she may have chuckled at the old Confederate allies growing into an upstart, another little footnote to add for the long list of justifications for abandoning those poor and weak-willed fools.

To anyone even remotely familar with the Grand Moff, deciding to fix her mood with bloodshed was not a surprise at all: though taking up a rearguard was less predictable, she trudged through the jungle muck, little annoyances allowing her to harness her hate; one of Lirka's many old habits, and one that would never die so easily: the force had abandoned her since her return to the plain of the living, hatred was not the powerful ally it had been before. But regardless, she stamped on branches and roots, hacking through low hanging foilage.

Though half running up to her came a comms officer, the boy panting slightly as he spoke.

"Ma'am, you'll want to hear this. Systems Wide message from the invaders."

The message of Kainan Wolfe now reached her ears. did it fan the fires of hate within her heart, fill her with dread? No. Neither of those things. Instead, it was a grim pleasure: Lirka was always a fan of fiery speeches.

"Well...now we can't let them steal the thunder, can we? Patch me into the Imperial Comm systems."

She could care less about speaking to the Invaders, the rebuttal was needed for the defenders, and all else who called this disgusting rock home.

"People, of our fair Empire! Do not cower under the shadow of these invading barbarians, do not fear their dark words! For we, the mighty, the strong, those destined to rule this Galaxy have nothing to fear from Leeches! Leeches whom grow fat from the labor of others, lazy, insolent, pathetic. They are pest, an infestation trying to plague our great Empire! Eradicate them! Offer no quarter! Fight with a fury unmatched by all, and be remembered as gods! A thousand of their lives for each of our own they take! Glory to the Empire! Victory or Death!"

The Moff's voice rumbled out from comms, channeling her hatred into every word, and pushed forward to the proper fighting with even more impunitity once it was finished. Yes. It was time for carnage. Time for slaughter. Time to prove her mettle once again.

 

[Rurik Fel]

// PARABOL ACTUAL // Imperial Knight Commander
// ALLIES | EE & NIO // --
// ENEMIES | TSE // Kascalion Giedfield
Armor | Lightsaber | The Vane | Pistol | Grenades

P N E U M A

So shone the lights of the fire of war again. The great equalizer. The primal law and dreaded symphony to which Empires were forged and broken. Atop this decrepit rock, another ooze of crimson ichor may very well pool around the feet of the Sith Empire again. Rurik could only hope. Of the entire task force sent to assist a new and unexpected ally in the Eternal Empire, Wymar was the only knight of his breed present. For that...he was almost glad. The darkness was potent in the air. The Shadow Hand and all of Carnifex's closest retinue were on the field. In opposition, a man who'd claimed himself to be Dark Lord out of spite, heresy.

None of that mattered. It was all the wills of tortured and delusional souls battling for the highest pedastol, the greatest title, the vastest claim. All the while they'd render one another to dust all the same. Whoever would be left standing all but king of the cinder. The Order might've been the only hope at sustaining this claim in peace, security. But there was no taking it so easily, it had to be willed into existence. A peculiar alliance although the same could be declared of the Galactic Alliance whom Rurik sympathized with far more.

Regardless, the will of order be done. If he was anything in his selection as task force commander, he was unyielding. He would not see the New Imperials march home fruitless from his excursion, the gods would bleed again today.

Within the troop bay of his RDAGx Rurik stood solitary in a dark corner of the gunship, his face concealed behind the helmet as he peered over the Force Corps Auxilia accompanying him. Strong souls, brave men and women though the ranks were thinner or rather...different than he last recalled the retinue that served with him at Mygeeto. Cameron Farwell was one of his more trusted confidants. Emotionally unbreakable as Wymar had often postured himself to be, his death was difficult to handle. Less so that he died at all and far more because he wasn't there to see his friend and comrade through to the end. To guarantee him an eternal peace on his own terms and in stead buried in mountains of snow in the mass grave of the men and women under his command.

A gut-wrenching sight, not one Rurik was sure he'd ever care to see in person, those frigid corpses so alone with fear and anguish in their eyes. He could only hope that Farwell had his peace in the world between worlds. He'd earned it, just as the rest of those he fought along side on Mygeeto but perished before they could see the Imperial Sun rise among the shattered ruins.

Descending. He could feel the gunship repulsed from its hooks secured within the hangar bay of the star destroyer as it began its helljump admidst a crowded formation of New and Eternal Imperial vessels assaulting the forlorn world. Where he could only assume anxiety, fear and anticipation behind the black and green tinted visors of the soldiers around him, Rurik postured a serenity through his form.

The Vane, the very Zeffo artifact uncovered alongside Rach'ta during his delve into the ruins of Alashan had helped to center him in the eve of battle. The machination of industrial brutality seamlessly replaced with all at once the entirety of the universe itself. Each time he'd glimpsed into this vision it was as much humbling as it was outright destructive to his ego. To most any other who'd delved into the force, it might've been the catalyst for a drive of self torture to insanity. To him...serene.

---

---

---

The closer he and his Auxiliaries tread toward the observation post, the more Rurik could feel that crushing weight of the darkness around him. It felt nigh isolating as he pulled himself violently from the high of peaceful illusion and into the mortal throes of battle. But this was no stagnant aura...this was darkness, embodied. Within a single soul, close. Primed to kill...but vulnerable all the same. In the rage of battle, the Imperial Knight showed his fury. His shimmering blade of silver as much a weapon as the body and body enclosed within.

No Sith were spared any quarter. They'd long passed any hopes of retribution, redemption. They would see their ruin, as cold and ugly as it could ever be. A harsh kick planted a Sith Knight into the distorted earth beneath after the Knight Commander had impaled him with his blade and saw the life force drain from his corrupted gaze. Finality taking permanence in the eyes of a being so dreadfully prideful otherwise between his mortal guise. The cold calculation of honed and molded discipline ruling the day over brazen recklessness in that decisive moment.

He was getting closer or perhaps...they were descending toward one another. He could only imagine what awaited him. All the same, the time for waiting was done.

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

​

Sith Saber - Autarch-class Siege Breaker
Allies: Ellie Mors Thaelius
Enemies: Tiberius Bayne Marlon Sularen Taozi Fuyuan Broka the Hutt
Objective: Follow the orders of the Triumvir, inform her Master of the situation

Equipment: In bio

As the fleet of Darth Alekto reverted to real space, a mass of organic coral around the gleaming hull of the Autarch-class, Eldaah observed from the bridge viewport the activity around them. Analysts were already hopping to scan the few ships that the Eternal Empire, their allies, had warned them were coming to attack this backwater. It had seemed strange to Eldaah, and her Master, that rebels would attack an observation post on the edge of the galaxy, especially with such resources as their allies claimed.

"I don't recognize the ships from our database," Commodore Beres Valfin muttered from next to the Sith Knight. Two Destroyer classes were identified, along with a ship that could serve as a cruiser or carrier by its design.

"They aren't a rebel faction that has fought the Sith Empire before," Eldaah replied.

"Sir, all communications are being jammed," a comm officer declared from their station. An eyebrow from Eldaah quirked up as she did not believe, from their initial scans, that the enemy ships had those capabilities. Something else was definitely afoot, felt wrong. Commodore Valfin scowled as he gave the order for their fighter screen to launch and fall into formation with Lady Alekto's flagship, facing away from the planet.

In the back of her mind, Darth Arcanix was watching and waiting.

It only seemed like moments before the true purpose of this situation was revealed, a fleet of warships emerged that were certainly not Sith-Imperial forces. Voices rose, exclamations were shouted. Eternal Empire ships, and the transmission from their leader cut through the static, making his thoughts known. Her eyes did roll at the grandiose nature of the speech though, and in the back of her mind, listening always, she was sure her Master was doing so as well.

"Anotia iw Kaj," she muttered. On the bridge, or what passed for a bridge on the Lady Alekto's flagship, a spectral image of the Sith Knight would appear. "My Lady, it would seem we have fallen into a trap," she said, her voice rather unconcerned. "Lady Arcanix awaits your signal to bring in her forces, but bids me to ask if you have any special orders for myself."

 

[Jack Barrow]

Equipment: Sk-UL Mk2 Armor | KC-VISR | KC-SHDE | KC-M74S DMR | S4C Repeating Carbine | Lucius-pattern Bayonet | KC-77N Pistol
Allies: EE & NIO | Enemies: TSE
Attn: Nova Argent | Surnin Hraskinn | Agrippa | Sgt. Tom Sykes
Location: 0.3 Kilometers from Outpost
Units: Ultranaut Company [144/165], KV-1504 "Foxhound" Light Attack Vehicle [2/2]

"Well then find your peace." He said to Nova Argent . "Because you're already in a coffin." Bad Company was by design made to be expendable. It was made to meek out the barest hint of use from those who'd otherwise waste away within one of the Empire's gulag or prisons. If you didn't come into with something driving you to live; a loved one, a hunger for survival, a thirst for revenge; then it wasn't likely you'd even make it out the dropship. It was almost funny. Fate had a way of deciding whose lives to spare and whose to take. The criteria that it used was still a mystery to Barrow, even after all these years.

Alarms began blaring as suddenly the soldiers around surged into groups, piling onto dropships like flies onto fresh crap. "Everyone on the coffin! Strap-in and say your last words!." Barrow wasn't joking; It was highly likely a lot of these men would die the minute they broke into the atmosphere, chewed apart by anti-air fire or dying upon being splattered against the surface of the planet. This would be their last chance to say what they wanted. Soldiers who'd been under for a time began muttering out brief sentences or jokes, while other fresh recruits would look around confused, or stammer out something akin to a prayer. Barrow himself said nothing. If he died, he died. If he didn't, well. Too bad for him.

The hatch to the dropship sealed up and suddenly those onboard would feel the ship move, before rapidly picking up speed. A sudden jolt, like being hit by a wall, would be felt, the tell-tale signs that they'd broken into the atmosphere, followed by the thunders of combat; AA fire exploded into the air around them, with no sense of how close or far away they were being given save for how badly the ship rocked from side to side. This was the grinder that'd eat up the majority of the regiment.

Without warning, the back of the dropship would erupt into flames, as it's end was torn away, exposing it's occupants to the hell that currently engulfed the sky. Several Ultranauts were ripped up and out along with their seats, while the others braced for the worst as the ship took a nose dive downwards. Most would be thankful for their helmets muting most of the exterior sounds; without it, their eardrums most likely would have exploded. The few seconds of chaos leading up to landfall would feel like lifetimes before.... darkness.

Barrows eyes flickered opening, readjusting to the sight provided by his HUD, which gave real-time readouts on the status of his company as a whole. Taking a glance around at his surroundings, he found others in the dropship had died in their seats, while others had woken up, and freed themselves, gathering the gear that survived and moved out. He freed himself from the braces of his seat and got up, grabbing his own gear and getting out of the wreckage. According to the map readout, they'd by and large landed within the assigned combat zone. Some dropships had managed to land without problem, while by in large many of them had taken hits. According to the feed, the company had taken a total of 21 casualties, leaving about 144 Ultranauts combat ready. Good enough, considering.

Of the 23 in his dropship, 15 survived. "Company! On me!" He rallied the survivors on his position, before speaking through their shared channel. "Congratulations on another landing. For the fresh recruits, congratulations on surviving your first drop. Now fall in formation and march towards repentance!"

 

[Lord Venari]

Location: Landing Zone, PL-40112-CE-021105
Objective: Repel enemies & defend AA guns
Gear: In Bio
Allies: TSE & Allies
Enemies: EE & Allies

---

The battle cries of soldiers and Sith alike erupted into the air. Imperials of all molds, Sith, Eternal and New clashed as crimson blaster fire seared the air. Beneath his helm Venari sneered, thrusting his plasmatic blade into one traitor's throat. Melting armored cracked and sizzled. There were no bloody gurgles or death throes, only the sweet release into the force. Just as Venari's blade fed him, he too fed the powers of bogan, returning its creations to the netherworld. A heavy horizontal tug tore the lightsaber through one side of the soldier's neck and crossed against a New Imperial's visor. Agonizing shouts escaped his maw only to be silenced by the art of sai cha.

"Your end has come, Si-" The zealous spiel from yet another that prided themself on discipline had been cut short as three floating crimson sabers thrust into the trooper.

"You were saying?" Venari mocked as the blades deactivating allowing the corpse to fall to the muddy mound.

The shouts of a victory marked a brief opening reprieve nearby a series of anti-air guns, which continued to pepper the skies. Wreckage descended to earth as more drop ships beamed planeside only to be met by the defensive line. The call of the dark had been true, nudging Venari toward his next banquet, out on the warfront where the feast was greatest. Sill, piercing the hunger was a cold, calculated reality. Earlier contemplation saw the canvas traced, now the brush found its stroke. Their former allies riddled with yet more former allies; one the mallet, the other its wielder. Venari removed his helm then turned to address the Sith-Imperial legion at his back. As it stood comms were jammed yet a Unified Sith Empire would see them take this day. The circle's will would be done.

"Obsolete? Obsolete this pretender claims? Obsolete is the dull mind of one who thought such a redundant tactic as claiming himself the Dark Lord of the Sith in some apparent grandiose display would yield any results. Did he believe we'd quiver under his every foolish word?" Measured laughter took to the troops among the outer line. "These "disciplined" fakers take orders from a man who hid away at the galaxy's edge with borders far from anything resembling a warfront, yet he claim to be the superior? An insufferable joke I say. A false Emperor who, lacking any strength of his own, clutched onto the title of Darth to impose his will and only now makes war against the Apex Predator when he believes us wounded. Let none dissuade you, we are apex and now we shall bear our fangs against yet more traitors." An outstretched palm beckoned for the helmet of the fallen NIO trooper who died alongside the Eternals Venari struck down. A silent moment passed as amber clad eyes fixed on the burn marks across the visor. He then lifted it into the air.

"Funny that we see the False Imperials taking up alongside the Eternal folly. I find opulence... luxury... greed and corruption to be a words they all toss around as if part of some spiel the lot of our growing enemies were sold on. You tell me who has grown soft. We who are willing to impose order upon the galaxy no matter the cost or those so terrified by true might they allowed themselves to be manipulated to this spineless cause? An alliance between supposed Imperials and their erroneous Sith Keepers, the Alliance and its so-called Jedi, now the Eternals and their own dark regime. I see a conglomeration of those so weak in will they forsake any and all conviction to have any chance of measuring up. And I'll tell you why, because they fear us - because we are Apex." Tearing through the skies, a number of dropships fell past the Anti Air defense and barreled toward the ground. "Now go, prepare the defensive line. Show them true discipline. For order. For the Emperor. For the Empire!" A war cry echoed through the air suffocating it of all sound.

Armored gauntlets dropped the burned trooper helmet and set the Sith Lord's own back over his head. Recalling his plethora of weaponry the three floating bald hilts attached themselves to his belt. So too did his pet latch onto his back. Rolling shoulders preceded the burst of speed Venari took toward the front lines. A grave of mud, crud and blood awaited all those who dared betray the Empire. Yes, the circle's work would be done.

 

[Moff TV-771 "Bishop"]

Location: Sith Imperial Observation Post, Logistics Headquarters of Grand Moff Aut-X.
Allies: Grand Moff Aut-X, TSE & Company
Relevant Tags: Grand Moff Aut-X
Enemies: Logistics & Its Own Droids (EE & Company)
Forces (Technically?): 100~ Non-Combatant Logistics Droids and One Misplaced Imperial Serf

Across the battlefield, great heroes and greater villains made their mark upon the galaxy. In massive, sprawling battles or clandestine ambushes, they deside the fate of two of the greatest Empires in the galaxy...

But TV-771, Moff of Oversector-II? It was participating in the greatest battle of them all... logistics. There was a saying: "Armies march on their stomachs". Never was that more true for an officer in the position of TV-771... Except for the fact that it was supplying an army of droids that lacked the need for food or sleep, so that was actually completely false. Perhaps it would be more apt to say: "This specific army marches on just blasters, and blasters in vast amounts."

But that is just arguing semantics. Suffice it to say, keeping such a force supplied was a challenge within itself, especially when every single member of the Sith Empire Logistics Division seemed to have taken it upon themselves to dump every random, pointless piece of equipment on TV-771, citing the common misconception that droids would not complain. TV-771 had decided that disproving this fallacy was its maker-given task, or so it seemed to every unfortunate fool sent its way. Such was the case for one distinctly unfortunate freighter captain.

"You are aware this is an army of droids, correct?"

"Well... Yes, Governor Bishop, but--"

"--And that for the approximate 5 kilometers between this base and the Grand Moff's defensive lines, there is not a single organic soldier that I am tasked with supplying?"

"You see--"

"As such, I am unspeakably curious as to what you believed I would do with..." TV-771 paused for an unnecessary moment as it looked back down to the datapad unceremonious thrust before it, "5.4 metric tonnes of grain?"

"W-Well..."

"Get your freighter out of my base before I have it and you acquisitioned for repurposing in the middle of a black hole."

The freighter captain spared no words in his hurried retreat, nearly barreling into a logistics droid in his haste to escape the deceptively calm tactical droid. TV-771, again, bemoaned its position as well as the necessity of organic officers... Oh, how it desired to be back on its ship over Axxia, dealing with marginally more competent droids... Indeed, the mess of supplies sent its way were so unorganized that an Imperial Serf, or so TV-771 called the little man, who had been trapped aboard one such freighter after missing the call for leaving, was not stuck on its base. Naturally, the man had to fill out the appropriate paperwork to return to wherever it was that he was brought. Unfortunately, he lacked the appropriate clearance to see the paperwork, so he had to fill out the necessary request form to possibly be granted that clearance.

Of course, he also lacked the clearance that as well, but that wasn't really TV-771's problem, now was it?

The logistics droids, who had almost been knocked over a moment before, stepped into the office with a datapad in hand. TV-771 swept the unrecovered datapad aside, directly onto the floor amidst a pile of its forgotten brethren, and accepted the newest call for support.

Some no name captain, in some no name regiment, asking for supplies from TV-771. Well, as contemptible as the idea of giving droid-designated weapons to an organic officer, TV-771 was perfectly capable of helping the man.

It was a sob story indeed, about how under supplied they were, and how they were locked in combat with a far larger force. The supplies granted by TV-771's camp might even decide the fate of the battle.

"Has the appropriate paperwork been filled out and filed?"

"No--" The droid was not even granted the chance to finish its word, so swift was TV-771's response.

"Request denied. Next." The droid accepted its datapad back and left as swiftly as it had arrived, only to be replaced by another request of some sort.

Unfortunately for the lowly Captain or any other would-be recipient of supplies, or perhaps very fortunately for TV-771, any request from any Imperial commander or officer that was not the Grand Moff required the necessary paperwork to be filed. Should the given officer fail to do so in a timely matter, i.e. upon the arrival of their request, it will be automatically declined by TV-771.

A truly important battle indeed, for how dare they attempt to circumvent the great bureaucratic quagmire TV-771 had surrounded itself in!

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Location: Observation Post
Allies: Eclipse Rebels
Enemies: The Eternal Empire and allies, The Sith Empire and allies
Attn: Lark
Equipment: Nondescript standard plasteel armor, lightsaber



AA thundered outside the landing shuttle, rocking the craft as it descended through the atmosphere. The hood on her head and the scarf covering the lower half of her face felt like poor replacements for her helmet. Secondhand pauldrons and a chestplate made her feel little better but as another near miss shook the ship, Adelle found herself wishing for the full enclosure of an actual combat suit. The clothes she wore in preparation for the jungle planet were little suited to battles like this.

Breathe. Rebels around her gripped their weapons, checked their equipment, said silent prayers. Adelle closed her eyes, finding the living calm the jungle planet said existed. Even as other shuttles exploded into fireballs, lost wings and pilots, or veered off to evade the barrage, life was here. The Force was here. The Force was her ally.

And a powerful ally it was.

The rebel soldiers on the shuttle with her began disembarking before the shuttle had fully landed. She stood as the ship thudded against the ground and looked up at the temple, fighters and bombers making runs on the anti-air batteries. Other teams would be infiltrating from different access points. Her objective would be entertaining the Sith defenses at the front door so those teams had a chance. Adelle rolled her shoulders and sprinted forward with the bulk of the rebel force, feeling the thunder of the landspeeders in her chest. The place felt warped, twisted. Wrong. But lives were on the line. Wrong or not, she had a job to do.

"Knock, knock," she muttered.

 

[Théodoro]

| Theme |
​

He had come for war, not waiting; yet waiting he was.

When he had accepted the contract with the Sith, he had thought he’d known the risks. He was no cultist but if the Vigil Oculi decided that working with the Sith was immoral they would likely take action against him. He disliked the idea of being snuffed out in the middle of the night without a chance to fight honorably before his death. Still, he was not Force sensitive and had not subscribed to their insane religion, so he did not believe any ill would come of this contract.

Theo could still learn from the Sith. Many among them were powerful warriors, and their legions were among the most feared in the galaxy. A Sun Guard could fit nicely into the Sith-Imperial war machine. LT-137 himself had participated in campaigns for them many times in the past. Thyrsus may have wanted to distance itself from the Sith, but Thyrsus could not distance itself from war. It was too deep in their culture; too deep in Theo to simply ignore the opportunity afforded to him by this contract. He would see them fight, learn their skills, and someday perhaps he would exploit their weaknesses. Strength was not only physical. He needed to see how they thought and improve himself.

He’d thought he would be fighting the New Imperial forces. Instead he found himself on a planet with no name to battle cultists. Weren’t the Sith cultists as well? It seemed that they had something in common. Still, Thyrsians still fought other warrior races. Similarities did not mean peace.

But as he waited in the small gunship, new alarms blared. The Eternal Empire had arrived here in place of the cultists. No, he did not know any of their warriors. But he knew that he was more likely to find a worthy opponent among them than a few cultists.

His helmet retracted and he opened a flask from his belt to pour on his head. The battle oil seeped into his skin, and his eyes truly opened as the battle began. He thanked the Eternal Empire for bringing him the conflict he so desired, but knew that they might not enjoy what they had awakened.

Y O U N G
W A R R I O R

Sanguine Nocturnal
| Theme |​

There were creatures here who intended to hunt him.

Alone in the forest of the unnamed planet, Theo stalked forward. His golden armor was far from the ideal for sneaking around, and he certainly didn’t like it. But the Eternal Empire had brought a significant force and charging in would likely not bring him the true combat he sought. Their legions were as faceless and disappointing as those of the Sith. No, he needed to find a warrior. A kindred spirit to do battle with. Thus he needed to find their forward operating base.

Their gunship had taken flak on the way down to the surface; Theo had opted to take a gravchute out of the airlock rather than risk being shot down. His instinct had been correct -- the transport had gone up in flames around ten seconds after he’d hopped out. He was no airman but he knew how to land safely. Thus he was deep in the jungle and far from his Sith allies…

It was perfect, really. He would approach the garrison from the west while the ultranauts engaged the Sith troopers to the east. He’d fight the commander and challenge them to a duel. If not that, surely the commander would have a powerful bodyguard. Those of the Eternal Empire surely must appreciate martial prowess.

But first he needed to deal with the creature that stalked in the underbrush, waiting for a chance to strike him.

It could not hide from his helmet’s sensors of course. Still, it hid from his sight, flitting through the shadows cast by the jungle canopy above. He had been forced to slow down in case the creature came out to attack him, but finally he spotted the imposing iron fortress that the Eternal Empire had set down. It was then that the voxyn made its move.

The relationship between hunter and prey was far different than the agreement between warriors. When the hunter decided to kill its prey, then was the conflict, so often short and one-sided. But warriors worked together to create a dance worth watching. Even though it so often ended in death, it was beautiful while it lasted.

Theo was no hunter, but he refused to be prey. The Sun Guard turned to face the voxyn that now charged towards him. It unleashed an unholy screech as it approached, but Theo’s helmet protected him once more as the aural dampener kicked in and blocked out the noise. He sidestepped the creature’s acidic belch. It leaped towards him. Theo stepped inwards and in a fluid motion drew his sword and slashed open the creature’s gut, ducking down and rolling under the creature as it landed and stumbled due to the gushing wound.

Theo turned to only just barely dodge the voxyn’s barbed tail; it grazed his shoulder but couldn’t quite pierce his armor. He knew the neurotoxin on the voxyn’s tail would be enough to send him into shock, and without any allies nearby he was thankful for the golden armor that encased him. Theo was forced back as the voxyn lashed out with its tail again. His hand fell to his pistol which he quickly drew and fired. At this range there was little hope for the voxyn to evade. The golden light disintegrated the creature one chunk at a time until there was only what it had bled left.

He reloaded and holstered his weapon, turning back to the base ahead. That beast’s master had to be a powerful warrior, to have such will over a wild thing like that. He would seek them out and fight honorably against them.

His golden armor was stained red by the blood, but Theo made no effort to wipe it off, believing it might enrage or otherwise attract the beastmaster. He stopped a hundred meters from the garrison. His helmet helped carry his voice to the guards out front.

“Bring me the beastmaster, so that we may duel!”

 

[Nova Argent]

| Equipment |
Sk-UL Mk2 Armor | KC-VISR Thermomagnetic Optics System | KC-SHDE Adaptive Camouflage System | S4C Light Repeating Blaster | Bayonet | KC-77N Hybrid Pistol

| Allies |
Eternal Empire & Allies

| Enemies |
The Sith Empire & Allies

| Location |
0.3 Kilometers from Outpost

| Current Objective |
Patching You Up, Sir

| Interacting With |
Open

| Other Tags |
Jack Barrow | Sgt. Tom Sykes | Surnin Hraskinn | Agrippa

Barrow was right about one thing. The dropship WAS a coffin for many. Two seats to her left and it would have been hers, too. But there was no peace to be found as Nova clambered out of the vessel, quickly checking the bodies for signs of life she knew wouldn’t be there. For once, the rookie was grateful for the heavy helmets masking their faces. It was one thing to view a corpse on a table in the morgue.

It was another to see them mangled in the dirt.

Nova knew this was only the beginning.

She stood for just a moment at the edge of the downed ship, adrenaline sharpening her senses as she took quick stock of her own condition. Ribs hurt, but not bad enough to be worried, a few minor bumps, their armor did its job for sure, but it was her supplies he was most worried about. Bandages and tools would be fine, but the hard pouches holding the soft liquid bacta patches and more ‘delicate’ instruments had taken a beating against the bulkhead and crash webbing during descent. One was a little caved in. Nova ran a finger around it, checking for spillage even as Barrow hollered his orders to form up, but found no traces of leaking.

Unsatisfied but drawn into action by the surge of movement around her, the medic honed in on the nearest soldier with obvious damage and set to work, her mind already on the next ‘patient’ as she patched up whatever holes, burns, contusions, breaks or lacerations she could. Haste was necessary, given their position, but the Eternal Empire was nothing if not thorough. Some fought her efforts, at first, unwilling to submit to her instructions or admit they were in pain. Not that she asked them if they were. Pain wasn’t a problem. They were expected to push through it on their own. Her job wasn’t to heal them or soothe them, it was to fix any damage in any way possible to keep them on their feet so they could do THEIR jobs. But spent enough time around people in pain and you start to figure out how to hear it in words they don’t say, see it in subtle twitches, feel it in their energy.

Slapping a slightly crumpled bandage on the side of one’s arm, Nova rapped on his helmet twice to let him know he was set and hoisted her bag over her shoulder once more, following the stream of soldiers as they complied with Sgt. Barrow’s orders. She hauled one or two from the line, noting the blood trailing from gaps or the awkward twist of an arm out of its socket.

If they were marked for death today, she’d make sure they could go down fighting properly.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Location: 0.20km from landing zone.
RP Partner(s): Agrippa | Open
Allies: TSE | Lirka Ka | Lord Venari | Open
Post #1

She wasn't there to fight cultists. She wasn't there to hold off an invasion. She had come to inspect the observatory's aging equipment and assess its systems.

Cara wrenched herself from the mud and slung the grime from her hands. Using the body of her lab coat she shined a few fingers clean then placed them to her temple, pulling them away to observe a red stain. The voice of Darth Tacitus garbled through the broken comm of the Imperial shuttle, his grand speech of superiority wholly unimpressive to the doctor. It was nothing that hadn't been said before, old news and old sentiments; sentiments she shared sympathy with at certain levels. But the Eternal Empire would not gain the advantage of her sympathy, for the bastards who had burned Bakura now made themselves open for revenge.

Finally. It had been a thorn in her side since she had received word of the Eternal's crime against her home planet. Their status as "ally" cut her pride, and their takeover of her people was a bitter reality she scorned. Now they had made the mistake of backstabbing the true Empire of the galaxy. If she managed to lend a hand in the situation they would pay greatly for both offenses.


They had only expected minor interaction with the cultists if any, but with the announcement of betrayal the humble transport was set upon by sudden force, themselves mere collateral in the wake of battle. Bodies of the skeleton crew painted the ground, good workers in need of a break and chosen for what was thought to be a simple operation. A waste of talent that heated Cara's anger to a simmer.

"...anyone...Please!" The voice was only a few meters away but deeply muffled. Cara turned to scan the debris, her eye looking over the layers of wreckage.

"I'm here, keep talking!" Cara called out as she began tossing aside larger chunks. Recognizing the voice to be holo technician Chuza, she wondered what shape the Mirialan would be found in. Old memories of field medicine began to play in her mind.

"I-I can't feel...oh if there is a god...please!"

Cara's arms worked without exhaustion as she flung panels in every odd direction. At last a spot of green that wasn't a stray jungle leaf. A sobbing gasp was heard from below and a desperate hand shot forth to grab the doctor's forearm.

"It's alright, you'll be fine. Just hold on," with surprising softness Cara pried the claw from her arm. The last panel and a terminal were cast aside, and Cara saw why the man spoke of not feeling.

"M-My legs... ple--I can't feel them!"

He had none. Sheared above the knee both appendages had been lost to the jungle.

Free at last the Mirialan lifted his head to see but had his view blocked by the doctor, "I need you to keep watch. Be my lookout. That's an order."

She pushed his head back toward the sky where dropships had begun to dot the lower atmosphere.

Basic medical supplies. That's all they kept in a shuttle's kit. Cara pulled it from the wreckage along with miscellaneous gear from those who had no more need of it. She set it all beside Chuza, tossing in a gratuitous amount of improvised medicine as she stabilized him.


The half of their pilot she found was useful as she equipped his legionnaire breastplate, and the copilot's boots and headset would do well enough in the jungle. She looked askance to the blaster holstered on the other half of the pilot. It could never be argued she didn't have a steady hand to aim with. The belt was buckled around her waist and she returned to the Mirialan


While she activated the Imperial comm she gathered the man in her arms, "This is Doct--Knight Dorniarn requesting location of nearest Sith Imperial attachment and for a medic on standby, over."

​

 

[Sterling Kinslayer]

• Objective: Protect Taozi from herself​
• Tags: Taozi Fuyuan :|: Broka the Hutt :|: Marlon Sularen :|: Tiberius Bayne​
• Allies: Taozi Fuyuan and only Taozi Fuyuan​
• Enemies: Everyone who tries to harm Taozi Fuyuan​
• Gear: Clan Tal Branded Armor​

Sterling was a patient, caring person. He had long hoped his teacher would let go of this hatred of hers, not for the sake of others but herself, the way the Sith affected her so deeply was a disturbing thing to him, and he feared greatly that it would sway Taozi off onto the path of a False God. The idea was perhaps the most disturbing possibility he had imagined yet, and he sought to prevent that fate, the same fate that he once dealt before. It was for that reason and that reason alone that he risked so very much to be here, to help her and fulfill his personal obligations to her when so much could go wrong. It was why he had spent hours finding enough armor pieces to disguise himself as a Tal medic, to the point that even his distinct race was indeterminable.

Even without the Force he could feel her shaking, the way she stood was too distinct and familiar. He could not feel the rage seething in her heart, but he knew just how bad it was. He knew one who stood like that, and it truly hurt his heart in unimaginable ways to watch his teacher and friend stand there like that man had so many years ago.

He would not let her follow him.

She had the comms shut off, and stood silently, unwilling or unable to look at him. That was fine. She didn't have to look at him, but she had to acknowledge him. He took slow, careful steps up to her, until he stood beside her, still managing to tower above her despite her own height. His hand reached out to the side, slowly taking hold of her shoulder and pulling her gently against his side. She needed a friend's comfort now, and by the Powers she would get it, even if he had to hold her in that potentially awkward side hug until her heart let her calm down.

His eyes watched the space beyond the ship, waiting. They were not here to kill, so waiting would have to do. Until then he would consider what might need to be done, to keep the Tal Chieftain safe. If need be, he may have to again stand between her and an explosion, an act he had done before in desperation. However now his armor was left at home, and he had massively downgraded to what amounted to little more than the most basic of protections. If he had to pull such a stunt again, the armor would not hold.

That wasn't such a bad fate to consider.

 

[AMCO]

Location: Observation Post, Floral Research Hub Aurek, integrated into exterior walls.
Objective: Stay out of danger as the goons repel the "cultist" rebel Eternal Imperial incursion.
Equipment: Tactical Turtleneck & G1 OmniLink | Shield Talisman & Shadow's Folly | SIB-14
Appearance: Wearing a white lab coat over a black turtleneck and trousers; rancor-leather boots.
Ground Forces: 200/200 Karza'Arana Warriors (Reserve) | 4/4 Karza'Arana Darksworn (Honour Guard)
Writing With: Ingrid L'lerim
---

As it turns out, his assessment of the threat might have been slightly off. Rebels - what in the blazes were rebels doing here, of all places? Did they have a blood grudge against exotic flora, perhaps, or were they simply incapable of seeing an Imperial banner without throwing a tantrum?

No matter, his colleagues had plenty of experience disposing of such pests.

"Hmph, are our shuttles in the clear? I would hate for the samples to..." Pausing as he heard a familiar voice in his head, he wrapped up the order with a wave of his hand, watching the slightly confused looking agent run off to do his bidding. With another wave, he positioned his Sithspawn honour guard near the entrance before proceeding to the room.

"Ingrid! Quite the pleasant surprise..." Smiling wryly, he had a feeling. "... though I suppose your presence is indicative of a less pleasant surprise?"

Nodding as she explained the situation, his response was surprisingly calm, all things considered. "I would dispute your claim that you are certain you could kill me, but alas a knife in the back would be all too effective. One of these days I am going to have to procure a hardier body."

Musing interrupted by a soft beep, he checked his OmniLink and saw a summary of Darth Tacitus' apparently rather lengthy speech. "Decadence and overdelegation, eh? I can't help but feel personally attacked by your Emperor."

Though as full of humour as ever, the thoughtful look in his eyes would betray an altogether different mindset. The Eternal Empire had been one of their few allies; for them to launch an attack like this... it was concerning. Deeply concerning.

 

[Curtis Learchin]

​

Equipment: Viper (Light Armour), Saberstaff
Allies: Eclipse Rebellion, Loreena Arenais-Valhoun
Enemies: The Sith Empire, Eternal Empire
Post 1

It had been so long since Curtis had stretched his legs, and with this incursion, he would have the perfect opportunity. While Lori was intent on leading a group of her own, Curtis would rather scout, acting as overwatch as well as operating as a Lone Wolf. He knew the objective, a security station that would give them the information they needed, but he had a feeling that it would be guarded. Heavily guarded. Flicking his wrist, he activated his comlink.

"Lori, this is Curtis. I'm moving ahead of you and your boys. I'll try and leave some for you" He said jokingly, before ducking down and moving towards the objective. Without backup, he couldn't take the station, but he could at least buy the main force some time and effort.

Maybe he'd even run into a Sith he knew.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Ingrid L’lerim
The Red Witch; Emperor's hand; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard​

Location: Observation Post, Floral Research Hub Aurek, integrated into exterior walls.
Equipment: Assassin armor with this look | Black blade lightsaber | Red blade lightsaber shoto | 2x vibroblades | Stealth field generator
Tags: AMCO

Background music:
Elena Siegman – Abracadavre​

She didn’t want this war…

Ingrid didn't want to lie, she wanted to see Adrian, but not like this. In the man's tower, or in a hotel room, it would have been much more pleasant. But not on the battlefield, especially not on the opposite side. Her lover's calm reaction surprised her a little, she thought she expected Adrian to be more nervous than that.

”Your lab coat is really sexy with the new tactical turtleneck” she shakes her head and bit her lower lip. ”I don't want you to replace this body, I really like this one…”

She took out his weapons and put them in her helmet, she finally set it all down on the table and gently pushed it closer in Adrian's direction. She turned around to show she was not hiding more weapons, she only had the two lightsabers and the two vibroblades this time. After that she stepped only cautiously closer to Adrian.

”Maybe, but I said I don’t want to hurt you. In the last few months he has broken away from reality and gone mad…” she said softly. ”Give me your hand please!”

She also took off her gloves and threw it on the table. If Adrian did what she asked for, he tried to share her memories with him, using the knowledge she has acquired from the entity. She started when she was on the planet G'rho, Scherezade's anger overcame her, just as feeling almost killed her, tore her soul apart. As she accidentally attacked the Emperor with a force scream in her pain and agony. The way the man then slapped and threatened her, that he would kill or execute her after the next one. That the man did nothing to help her just let her suffer, that after these even before Wayland, and he tortured Ingrid for hours.

She then let go of Adrian's hand in embarrassment, she did not show or share such personal things with others many times. She was embarrassed and it really wasn’t a play, these were her real feelings and her real reactions, she didn't want to be confident with the man so soon.

”In addition, he even ruined my marriage. If he treats me like that, who is in principle his confidant and the third person in the Eternal Empire… I dare not even think about what he would do to you if...” she whispered and her voice trailed off.

She didn’t want this war…

​

 

[Agrippa]

New Imperial Expeditionary Force - Gladius Company
Joint Task Force "SARAJEVO" - Eternal Navy's 1st Fleet Section
Surnin Hraskinn Nova Argent Jack Barrow Sgt. Tom Sykes
Cara Dorniarn Lord Venari Lirka Ka

Sarajevo​

0.3km away from F.O.B...
Our dropships of New Imperial design, neatly painted with the symbols of Gladius Company and the New Imperial Order symbol, were clearly distinguished from the rest. The wound we inflicted the behemoth of the Sith on Muunilinst and Mygeeto was fresh and now we wanted to salt that wound with our standards. We were never meant to be a secret addition to the Eternal Empire's deceitful plot against the Sith, on the contrary - we wanted them to know we were everywhere. We would give them no quarter.

I'd lie if I said most of us didn't feed into that propaganda; we loved it. Even Capn. Belisarius, peace be upon him, knew the powers of using psychological warfare. Distasteful karks with questionable morality like us were a perfect application of that tool.

And now we were here. From Muunlinst to...whatever the hell this place is called.

Gladius Company took the right flank of the front Bad Company was forming; we lost some on landing and we gained some crashed stragglers on our way towards the designated F.O.B. Sith AA was a b*tch. Back on Muunlinst the Legionnaires had flooded the place with emplacements like this, forced us to crash land but we made it. Some of us.

We split out loosely, trekking through muddied floor and jungle canopies headed towards the designated F.O.B-to-be. The place was a shithole for armored vehicles and we carried on foot as planned. Point was breakthrough the Sith's initial defences and set up a firebase overwatching the observation post. On a good day we would've landed on the edges of the jungle, not today.

"Lieutenant, look." Hooks called me and I turned to see him pointing at a piece of metal lying next to him. "That's a Sith-made thruster. Are they shooting their own?"

I frowned beneath the helmet and got closer to inspect. Couldn't make out what type of ship it had been but that was definitely Sith produced thruster. Mid-sized ship, most likely. Bingo confirmed, he was the spaceship nerd among us.

"Eyes and scanners open, the karks might be better prepared and this jungle's doing no one a favor." this was supposed to be a surprise strike but it never hurt to be cautious, especially in jungles which served as perfect platforms for quickly formed but equally deadly ambushes. "Tighten up the formation, keep the same pace. I will take point, scout ahead. Faceless, Hooks - on me."

I was a good tracker and a good hunter. Born and bred on Mantell's countryside had its benefits. If there was some smartassed sith-imps up ahead, snickering as they laid out their trap, I'd snuff 'em out. Easy.

My finger caressed the trigger.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Location: Observation Post, Center Complex
Forces: 10 Crownguard | 2 Dimensional Shamblers | 4 Elder Things
Tags: Kainan Wolfe (Eventually), Aerarii Tithe , Grand Moff Aut-X, Kascalion Giedfield , AMCO , Moff TV-771 "Bishop", Ellie Mors , Taeli Raaf , Ingrid L'lerim

I S E E Y O U P R E T E N D E R ​

Drowning.

The silence that swept from within the chamber was drowned in a sea of madness and the power of the dark side motionless from his position on the floor, every breathe pulled more than air - energy in and released it to splash against the walls, grinding slowly against the ruined stone. It was immense power rooted in a nearly unparalleled mastery over the dark side of the force, of willfully paying the price to become something greater. Centuries in the teachings of death he wore the reapers cloak like a shroud long before the rise of the Tenth Sith Empire. The Lord of Lies, the Death Lord. To drown the galaxy in blood and war how could anyone truly understand what death was like he, the one who spilled the blood of populations that one could only speculate climbed high into the trillions. All to serve a purpose, to work towards an inevitable end of conquest, of dominance. To drape Darth Carnifex 's banner over the galactic center and build him a throne of black-iron to rule this galaxy and all others required death on a scale few could truly comprehend. But he was death itself - the Final Moment in every beings life made manifest in this world, the Walking Apocalypse. The Dark Titan opened his eyes once more and in the absolute darkness that devoured the command center they appeared like two blinding twin suns, glowing with a fire with a thin black ring around the perimeter. It was the very moment a presence entered the system that he spoke out to the room.

"I see you."

It was then that the speech of Darth Tacitus swept through every life form in the system, a first wave of sorts ahead of the war fleet that was at his back. Betrayal. The presence of a figure he knew all too well was unmistakeable for the Mountain. They had first met long in the past during the execution of the operation that saw the fall of the Galactic Alliance, the establishing of the Imperial Bloc and the end to widespread liberty as the galaxy understood it. Many bastions of liberty fell one after the other the Dominion, Free Worlds Coalition, Commenor Systems Alliance and even the Galactic Alliance, all who stood right in the path of the Sith Empire. It was within the Jedi Temple that he first encountered Lord Tacitus, the silver haired man whose eyes rimmed with corruption that stood against the Sith. But he was far weaker back then and his futile attempt to face the Shadow Hand down saw him obliterated by the full force of the dark side storm of crimson lightning that inevitably consumed the entire Jedi Temple. In the aftermath it saw Tacitus inevitably pardoned and they worked together towards common enemies since, all the while the man amassed power and strength, growing his empire beyond the Outer Rim.

Now he was Emperor.

A man of formidable power that paid the price of ascension and became something more - a monster in order to achieve his goals. To this end he erected a powerful empire around him and established himself as the absolute dictator of an oppressive regime that grinded out liberty to replace it with order and security. Their brutality was well known and even admirable. Even as they met and grew familiar there was always something looming between them, one could almost say the delicate relations were never truly built to last. The facade had dropped as the Dictator of the Eternal Empire's speech played out and the metaphorical gauntlet was thrown down against the Sith Empire. A declaration of war and a condemnation of the Sith philosophy and their methodology. The Death Lord wouldn't pick apart the speech and analyze or question how wrong the man was, or how misguided his vision was of the world and the Sith Empire at large. Only one word came to mind and a lesson that needed to be taught.

"Pretender."

As soon as the speech ended the Shadow Hand stood from his seated position and opened his own channel to all forces of the Sith Empire within the system itself. It would come across as a high priority message and one who spoke with the authority of the Sith Emperor. "Hear me now. All who pledge their allegiance to the Eternal Empire are now enemies of the Sith Empire and they are to be treated with extreme prejudice. We are at war. Stand firm brothers and sisters of the Sith Immortal, soldiers of the Imperial Legion for we are at war. Slay all you encounter. These are the wishes of the Sith Emperor Carnifex." He finished. If they wished to throw the gauntlet down than the Sith wouldn't hesitate to pick it up.

They would regret this betrayal.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

Location: Mirador tower, Sith-Imperial Observation Post
Objective: II - Discuss business and defend against the rebels
Kit: Skystas Rieve iv Tave Daboti Dvasi | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform
Allies: Darth Prazutis | AMCO | Grand Moff Aut-X | Kascalion Giedfield | Moff TV-771 "Bishop" | Onrai | TSE
Enemies: Malicar | Karisa | EE
Post: II

---

Aerarii bowed slightly as he greeted Malicar before leading him to the conference table and offering him a seat. “You are too kind, too kind,” he replied as he took his seat. “Between you and I, we use your rebuilding of Interstellar Shipping as a case study for new Banking Clan officials.”

A second Chiss joined them in the mirador tower. “Ahhh, Lady Karisa, a pleasure to make your esteemed acquaintance.” He offered a slight bow and flourish. Tithe had no met the Imperial Assemblywoman before, though her reputation for diplomacy proceeded her. Her unexpected arrival put him on the back foot in the negotiations - two against one - but to complain or draw attention would only show weakness.

He took a moment to study the bottle of wine before taking his own seat. Under Banking Clan rules he should declare such an expensive gift from a foreign official. But that would require surrendering the prized bottle, which would be such a shame. A protocol droid stepped forward to open the bottle, as was its programming, but Tithe waved it away. With the practised hand of someone who had opened bottles such as this before he cracked the seal and poured three glasses. It was an exquisite gift - another point to Mr Malcar.

“Well, ah, as I’m certain you know, the New Imperial Order’s inclusion into Sith-Imperial space as severed the Braxant Run. Supply routes through Sector Group II, of which yours truly is accountable, have been impacted. Based on your long-standing relationship with…”

A Sith-Imperial officer stepped through the heavy blast doors without announcing themself and hurried to Tithe’s side. He whispered into the Moff’s ear that unidentified shuttles were descending toward the Observation Post. Their anti-aircraft batteries opened fire in response. Tithe nodded and dismissed the officer, who cast a glance to two Chiss before leaving. Aerarii shook his head, barely noticeably, to signal that Malicar and Karisa were to be left alone. Once the officer left he turned back to his guests. “A minor inconvenience, nothing to trouble yourselves.” He did his best to project a smile - the interruption had rattled him slightly. Another point to Mr Malicar. He would have to work hard to get back out in front.

Under the leadership of Shadow Hand Darth Prazutis , Grand Moff Aut-X, Kascalion Giedfield and Onrai had expertly laid a trap for who they believed to be cultured from the Order of the Terrible Glare. One of the Sith Empire’s newest governors, Moff TV-771 "Bishop" was deep within the base providing logistical support, while Dark Councillor AMCO was preparing valuable flora specimens. Between them, the security of the observation post should be assured - how much trouble could a group of cultists be?

“As I was saying, we need to establish new supply lines to Sith-Imperial worlds. I’m proposing a simple amendment to your existing contact. We’ll add the new routes as an amendment to section 31b under the agreed rate, plus five per cent for your trouble.” The offer was a low ball - it would cost significantly more to get a new shipping contract established. Tithe was looking to leverage the existing contact, taking advantage of the fact that was easier for Malicar to take on more work than to negotiate an entirely new contract. “I assume this is agreeable?”

 

[Decimus]

​

Post: 2

The Sith-Imperial droid forces guarding the exterior of the Observation Post soon opened fire upon the Eternal Imperial attackers approaching their lines. Aut-X gave his tank column the order to commence their bombardment of the enemy lines, the AAT tanks firing their main guns at the enemy armored support, their repulsorlifts enabling them to turn and adjust their direction with ease to counter more swifter vehicles.

When Darth Prazutis gave the order to show no mercy, the Grand Moff obliged. He transmitted a warning to organic Sith troops caught up in the fighting in the trenches. "Firing the Defoliator. All organic troops must get out of range. All droid forces may remain where they are without fear.", he said, then speaking down to the droid manning the controls inside the tank. "Fire the gun. We'll burn their mongrel hides and mop up what's left."

The Defoliator Deployment Tank's main gun raised up to adjust it's firing arc, targetting the largest cluster of Eternal Imperial and Rebel troops before firing the shell. It soared above the battlefield before impacting the surface and detonating violently, the resulting explosion of fire cutting a swathe through any organic infantry unlucky enough to be caught in the blast, while leaving any vehicles and droids present totally undamaged.


Kainan Wolfe
Aerarii Tithe
Kascalion Giedfield
AMCO
Moff TV-771 "Bishop"
Ellie Mors
Taeli Raaf
Ingrid L'lerim

 

[Malicar]

Location: Mirador tower, Sith-Imperial Observation Post
Objective: II - Discuss business and support the rebels
Fashion: Suit and Scarf - Krongbing Interstellar Fashions
Allies: Vidalu Na'an , Kainan Wolfe , Karisa EE and EE Allies - sorta...
Enemies: Aerarii Tithe , TSE, Eclipse Rebels, and TSE allies - kinda...
Post: II

Hearing Karisa’s voice over his shoulder, he smiled. She was right—she did know how to make an entrance when she put her mind to it. Looking back to Aerarii, he did not seem to be expecting Karisa, but he silently applauded his ability to roll with the situation. In fact, Malicar was specifically looking for a reaction. Such details about who would be in attendance for business meetings were always left vague in correspondence unless it was intentionally brought up—more than once Malicar found himself in the same shoes as the Moff where more were in attendance than he anticipated from the “other side”. That happened far more than he cared for when he had meetings in Black Sun. But such was business…

Once Baroness Sabosen was seated, Aerarii began to speak of the arrangement he was proposing. With all the practice of a skilled host, Moff Tithe poured three glasses and gave one to each, taking care to pour without a single drop spilled in his twist and holding the glass by the bottom so that the intended temperature of the vintage did not rise a single degree.

Cultured. Indeed, I do approve.

Although there was an elephant in the room: the unmistakable sound of anti-air turbolaser batteries chattering nearby—it did not take a hyperspace scientist to know what was happening. Malicar was given at least an inkling of what was to come from Emperor Tacitus, but he was not privy to all the details—although Interstellar Shipping and the Eternal Empire had a tight relationship, he still was not one of them. But he was able to put the pieces together to at least have an idea of what was occurring.

As the Sith Imperial officer stepped through the blast doors, Malicar’s hand instinctively made a slow slide to his sidearm under his jacket at his hip. The Chiss glanced in another direction as a bit of a distraction from his subtle movement. His hand hovered there as he watched the interaction between the officer and the Moff. But Malicar did not watch Aerarii—he could tell already that the Moff was too practiced at masking his thoughts and intentions. However, Sith Officers were not as practiced as the Moff. It was the officer that the former Underlord Eshro watched. It was a common tactic of Malicar to never try to read the ones practiced in social arts—always watch the bodyguards, servants, messengers, attaches, handmaidens—these were the one that would "tell the tale". He watched the officer’s hand that was straying close to his service blaster. Malicar took one look over at Karisa and winked. The two Chiss knew each other intimately well. She had attended meetings with him during his time as the leader of Black Sun. With but a glance and a subtle gesture, she knew what he was thinking:

Be ready if this goes sideways…

The officer’s eyes darted between Karisa and Malicar, seeming to try and surmise the threat that the duo posed. But once the Moff spoke with him in a whisper, the officer seemed to relax. There was a lingering stare at Malicar and Karisa—just a small, suspicious one, but enough. Fortunately for all parties, Moff Tithe diffused the rattled officer and based on the reaction, placed Karisa and Malicar in the “under my protection” category—which was a great place to be during a battle. When the officer began to leave, Malicar’s hand left the vicinity of his sidearm. Aerarii apologized for the disturbance, but Malicar waved it off and responded casually, “Think nothing of it. Such is the galaxy we live in…please, continue. You were speaking of the NIO’s incursion into the Braxant Run, specifically Sector Group II…”

As Aerarii continued speaking, he quickly looked down to see what the vibration that was on his chronometer. Words rolled across the screen rapidly—a speech from Kainan Wolfe .

Well, well, well...the dear Emperor has balls of durasteel and certainly knows how to fire up the natives. Ouch. Those words might complicate business affairs…or not.

Even though he looked down at his chronometer, Aerarii could tell it was not out of boredom or a sign of disrespect. In fact, it looked as if Malicar was confirming the information given judging from his affirming nods. Once the Chiss was done reading the speech, he looked up and gave the Moff a wry smile. He spread his arms wide with a slight chuckle and responded, “Moff Tithe, Aerarii, do you mind if I call you Aerarii? And please, just Malicar.”

Still a wry smile.

“Aerarii, I sincerely thank you for your forethought and consideration in making our transaction seamless. Indeed, a slight amendment to 31b does seem to be the most direct route to an arrangement between our two organizations…”

Pause.

“But we are talking about adding new trade routes. Unfortunately, adding new trade routes within the Sith Empire is not a minor amendment. Alas, this amendment would require unique astrogation maps—that are in addition to ones found in the common markets. As you know, more trade routes require more ships. More ships mean more fuel, more labor, more pilots, etcetera, etcetera. While your offer is generous, I think you came to me for a reason. Could it be that we have the fastest freight ships in the galaxy? Perhaps it is because Interstellar Shipping will insure each load, even within contested space? Such speed in deliveries and guarantees on loads are not found elsewhere. Don't get me wrong, an amendment to 31b is indeed the easiest--but not at the price you have offered...”

Allowing the Moff to digest his words, the Chiss swirled his glass, holding it at the bottom, gave a moment to smell the aroma of the rare vintage, and gave it a small pull. Looking up at both Karisa and Aerarii, “By the way, my sincere thanks in sharing that vintage with us today. It is truly a marvelous surprise to partake in this…”

 

[Lark]

​

Location: Observation Post
Allies: TSE
Enemies: EE, Eclipse Rebels, Adelle Bastiel

PL-40112-CE-021105 was such a curious little planet. Full of such strange creatures from realms unknowable, a perfect location to study things that should've remained a mystery. One of those Rozzum lay in front of him, wounded as a result of all the experiments that Lark had been preforming on it. While hideously disfigured, there was a certain charm that came with the wretchedness. It could speak, although he had yet to understand anything the thing was saying. Was it cursing Lark for what he had done, or was it begging for relief? It certainly seemed, at the very least, that it understood what was being done to it. Was that fear that Lark sensed coming from the octopus-like creature?

It would not be alone for much longer, for another ritual was being performed within the experimental chamber. From the unnatural blood of other slaughtered Rozzum, Lark attempted to craft a different sort of Sithspawn. Would the inter-dimensional blood yield different results?

Despite the label of Sithspawn, Lark hoped what emerged from the pool of blood wouldn't be nearly as vile as the chants he performed to create it. For this was not a trial conducted out of scholarly pursuit, it was strictly personal. What he sought to make was an amalgam of magic, blood, and his own memories. A desperate act to reunite with someone he lost so long ago.

If he couldn't find his sister, he'd craft something in her image.

A small figure slowly crawled out of the pool, and Lark put away his Necronomicon. The form of the thing was shrouded, he wasn't yet sure what it looked like. Lark had his doubts about the whole experiment, he wasn't even sure what his sister looked like anymore. Was it possible to bring life to something in the manner in which he wished to?

Tragically, it would seem as though he could not.

The monstrosity hardly resembled his sister. Tufts of black hair grew from her cracked skull, her skin was noxious and burned. When Lark looked into her putrid eyes there was no sense of familiarity. The beast looked around the room, gaze frightful and hesitant. She looked at the carcasses of the murdered Rozzum, shivering as she met the multi-eyed survivor. And then she saw Lark, and there was something frighteningly familiar about the was she stared at him.

How dare you try to build something in her image, a voice within him said.

"Sir," a researcher said, receiving a message from some officer. "The Eclipse Rebels, the Eternal Empire, they've launched a surprise attack!"

"Fine," Lark said quietly, hellish gaze focused on the dreg before him. "I'm finished here anyways. Let our troops know that I'll assist in defense towards the front of the post." He finally turned away, grabbing his enchanted Sith blade on his way out. "Burn them both," he commanded, before ascending towards the battle. Behind him he heard a little struggle, and then screams as the Rozzum and that wretched thing were thrown into an incinerator. One of the screams was shrill and chaotic, the other disturbingly human.

At least the monsters would die together.