Jewel of the Tion [TSE Dom of Chandaar Hex, AJ,25]

[Mythos]

Objective III : Kill The King/Assist [member="Sian Jerikao"] and [member="Vestille Thumahra"]
Location: Tower Control-Floor Three Six Three

Moving fast was easy when all you had to do was run, so far the prototype was working well and as expected but it was a very long way to the top of the tower and where their intelligence suggested King Sigmund was located. The tower was a sleek behemoth that worked as the epicenter of the location, through the small Hud System Mythos clocked in how many floors he ascended careful not to ignite pressure sensors. That was the second best thing about the gel, it negated pressure sensors. As he ascended the team took another way inside the tower, a classical way but to this day it was effective: the hookshot, though in principle only. Using a portable tube on their assault packs they carried with them a single shot nearly invisible wire attached to a similar adhesive to the one Mythos was using. The wire was so small it was barley visible to the naked eye yet far from microscopic. Using the sights of the tube and specialized ballistics equipment they launched their individual hookshots to varying altitudes and together began to carefully ascend the tower while the rear team brought in a special friend; The Xayinas-Class Slicer droid, Quickly becoming another one of Mythos' preferred tools.

As the team ascended the small droid began to do one thing only, Jam everything it possibly could. There was only so much a single one of the droids could do with so many floors being assaulted and that is why they brought several and had team in the assault unit designated and specialized to this particular job. Mythos made note of the need for specialized Sith Imperial slicer droids this day as to ease those spots on special forces elements but even with that current limitation due to the short range of the slicer droid, the teams began their ascent successfully. Team by team starting with the ones headed to the highest levels, their speed at it's fullest while remaining undetected now that the tower began to be alerted to enemy interference. By the time the defenses of their King were aware of the immediate threat it was too late, the first things through the broken transparisteel were the DAX-15s.

Using the increased power of the special L.I.S. smoke and the initial surprise element break entry the teams systematically flooded their entry points with heavy weapons and light weapons, sweeping and clearing room by room and eliminating all targets, hostile or not. Mythos on the other hand was nearing his objective being the main command floor and his entrance was not to be that explosive. The climb had drained him of stamina and the colder temperatures he noticed were deteriorating the usage of the adhesive gel, every step he took now was a threat. The top of the tower was a large pyramid like pike that accentuated the sleek design, as he neared it step by step now worrying less about stealth when the initial entry of the teams took away the focus of the more higher levels he took the Ax from his back. He hoisted the crude weapon over his head and one motion of brute force brought it crashing down into the transparisteel window beneath him with such a force that the shrapnel it sent flying upon impact sent lethal shards in all directions.

"Sigmud you coward! Your high towers shall not hide your from The Sith!"​

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Location: Ambaril, Chandaar
Objective: Assess a promising acolyte & clean up the streets
Ally: [member="Zeynab Kazat"]

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To Avacyn, it was always a bit odd to hear people tell about where they grew up. That wasn't because of the place in which they did, or anything else concerning the person, but the way she had grown up herself. She had no real 'home' to speak of, instead the Jedi who had been responsible for her upbringing never stayed on the same planet for very long before finding a way to bring them to the next. Although there was always something new to be found, the woman had no place to call her own until she was a young adult. Even then though did it always felt temporary, until she, Ishana, and their families settled down on the Silver Ridge estate, where they lived now. Another personal victory not many would understand. She had achieved great feats as a Sith, but from the woman's standpoint none of that was nearly as important as the fact she now had a home, a family, and a wife to spend the rest of her days with.

"A lead as strong as this one has to be investigated. It would be quite ridiculous to ignore it." Even if the man had lied and there was nothing of interest to be found inside the warehouse despite the fact he had just been there, it was better to confirm that instead of doing nothing. The chance of it being a false lead seemed very slim, however. "You have the datapad with the location, so I'll be right behind you." With a bit of an animated gesture she invited Zeynab to start making her way over there. "Lead the way."

While Avacyn and Zeynab navigated their way through the city with the warehouse as their destination, the latter would ask the former a question that showed a curiosity of what, in essence, the Empire was within it. A good question to ask, certainly. The Sith lady took a moment to let her eyes wander from one broken building to another, then went to formulate an answer. "To rebuild. Restore not just Ambaril, but the entirety of Chandaar to its former glory. A gigantic undertaking to say the least, but that is how the Empire evolves. Progress takes vision and ambition, two things this planet has not seen in a very long time." Sacrifices would have to be made, and not just the criminals that were being hunted into extinction, but that was simply the price that had to be paid.

Not long after, the duo would find the warehouse they had been looking for, and it didn't look much different from what Avacyn had expected. Before going much further, she held up her hand to signal the acolyte to come to a stop. "Now, as easy as it seems to just go in with a plan to spill as much blood as possible, that is not what we will be doing. There's a chance we run into people higher up the criminal food chain than the average goon. Kill them here, and a message is sent to Chandaar. Bring them to justice, and a message is sent to the entire Empire." After locking eyes with a back door, she pointed towards it for a moment and began moving in that direction.

"Once we do that, we call in prisoner transport who will pick up everyone who surrenders. The rest will have to be put down. Understood?"

 

[The Amalgam]

Objective: 1

Sub-objective: Survive.

Post: 4

The partly rotting Amalgam, even with each staggered step she took that got her as far from the Talisman as possible, could feel the flesh on her wrinkled, slowly rotting face and underneath her suit literally wriggling and crawling at just being in its vicinity. The enchantments on this current body were barely holding. She had maybe minutes before it entered terminal rot and no amount of life draining would save it. Had to buy some time...

She spotted two rats running by her and Force pulled them into her grip. Though it was extremely petty, she stiffened in pleasure as she felt the suffering of the rats as she drank their essence with the dark side. Her shivering, cracked flesh straightened out for a bit and her eyes became less decayed looking.

Getting a momentary burst of energy as she ran through the ancient server building she had landed on, she could feel the Talisman getting ever closer. She was too weak to cloak either her body or her presence meaning Merith would always be able to find her. She'd gotten slower on top of that, and that meant no more superhuman reflexes--

The path through the server farms ahead exploded flinging her backward painfully into an ancient databank. Smoke and the smell of starfighter fuel assailed the rapidly failing nose of the shapeshifter, and she pulled herself up with sheer hatred. Someone had shot down an imperial starfighter. The push in Ambaril was gaining traction, then.

The Amalgam staggered to the wreckage. The pilot was dead. Looked like a Sith-Imperial TIE Interceptor. Pity. They were good vessels. Shame to get shot down by a rocket from the ground. She went to the cockpit. Nothing worth using had survived, except the now dangerously malfunctioning reactor. Any more stress and it would go up in a most impressive mushroom cloud.

Hmmmm...

She shivered as the Talisman got closer, so powerful it almost hid the other signatures following it. She decided not to run, as she would simply die tired. She turned to face Merith, the inscrutable Luka Sene warrior brandishing the circular medallion.

"You're beaten, witch. Surrender." Merith ordered with that calm quiet miralukan deliberateness that had always irritated The Amalgam.

"To what end?" the Shi'ido sneered, the tissue that served as her "hair" going white and starting to fall off, where it then hit the dusty floor as the dead, rotten, stringy flesh that it was, taking little pieces of her scalp with her. Fissures and lesions started to appear on her face as her knees buckled a little. Merith had all the remaining gangmembers she had co-opted flank her on all sides.

"To pay for the murder of Ursula Sandraven."

The Amalgam laughed cruelly in spite of her decaying state, delighting at the rage that she felt from the Miralukan.

"Murder is such a strong word for what happened to 'poor widdle Ursula'...don't you think?" the Shi'ido asked gloatingly.

"One more blast from this thing and even you won't get up..."

The Amalgam shivered in pain, her flesh literally wriggling on her petite frame so badly it felt like it was going to rip itself off any second at the Talisman's meters-shy distance from her. And with the thing generating such power in the light it would likely sabotage any effort to transfer her spirit, and even if the Talisman hadn't been here before she wasn't sure her spirit could make the distance back to her ship before being pulled into Chaos...not that she didn't thrive on utter chaos, but the Madness Beyond Death was a little too soon for her liking.

"Why not just kill me, if I might ask? You better than anyone with the sole exception of Uri know its what Ursula would do."

Merith gave no answer. The smirk on the Amalgam' face, which would soon decay to the point of no return, grew wider.

"You know, don't you?"

Merith's frown twisted into a snarl. The Amalgam's finger twitched, and she envisioned all the remaining switches that dealt with the starfighter's reactor move in unison.

The Shapeshifter threw out her corrupt spirit at the Medallion by channeling it through the hand and the nine remaining gangmembers tried to fire...at the exact moment the starfighter reactor detonated behind them. Everyone was knocked down, some shredded by the shrapnel and dead before they hit the ground, the medallion flung out of Merith's hand and knocking her back slightly with the rumbling of the building. The Amalgam was the first up her purple blades flashing out of her hilt to barely deflect a bolt fired at her from a still alive gangmember, slicing his arm off for his trouble and tackling him with fading strength that increased as she commanded the darkness to steal his life force, stiffening as her flesh's pain ceased and the skin stopped wriggling on her body, the decay reversing itself significantly--

--she was forced to break off the drain, so she was only somewhat restored as Merith brought her blades down on a now only slightly rotting Shi'ido who parried savage blows from twin phrik longswords, feeling her muscles weakening.

"You'll have to kill me, you know..." she taunted savagely as she evaded a stab, trying to scissor Merith's head off with twin forward outward traveling slashes. "If you truly wish to honor her, you'll have to kill me...yourself..."

Merith gave a roar and charged, and their blades locked amid ruined, now burning databanks. The medallion had been flung far enough away that she could fight effectively but she was still weak, and Merith was a pretty vicious swordfighter by the Amalgam's own admission.

But the Shi'ido was pretty vicious herself, and was willing to do anything to win...including taunting her about Ursula.

"Do you miss her?" The Amalgam mocked, her moldy yellow eyes clearly delighting in the psychological pain the question caused. Merith looked like she was going to be sick as she shoved the Amalgam back to execute a twin swipe. The Amalgam made an X with her blades and batted it aside. The Miralukan redoubled her efforts, swiping and stabbing at the Shi'ido, who was forced into retreat through the old computers, but noting that the attacks were tainted by anger now...which made her grin perversely, and Merith's expression was one of genuine rage as she easily pushed The Amalgam backward...

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Argai​

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He walked among the barren crags and canyons that dotted the landscape, the wind howling and tearing at his cloak as he draped it around himself to stave off the biting sand. A pair of goggles were bound tightly over his eyes, sparing his eyes the terror of the whipping wind that carried with it thousands of needle-sharp particles that could eviscerate the soft tissue as easy as one tore flimsiplast. In his hand, he held a geographic scanner, one that sent out pinging waves to determine the shape of the land via echolocation. So far the landscape in front of him was nothing but more of the same he had trudged through for nearly ten miles now, the footprints of his journey swallowed by the destructive elements that raged around him.

Then it happened, a positive reading on the device. There was a cave nearby, a deep recession in which existed the entrance to an underground cavern. This was fortuitous, the storm was increasing in its severity and now even the Emperor was one hundred percent sure he could resist it without suffering significant damage to himself. Hurrying along the rocky bank, the Dark Lord slid down the ridge and stumbled through the entrance outlined by the scanner.

Inside the cave was empty save for the mound of sand that had formed at the entrance, and after activating a glowrod the Emperor untangled the torn cloak from around him and pulled the goggles up to settle on his brow. He carried with him no provisions, for even if the elements proved too insurmountable he could still draw upon the Force that permeated his surroundings to nourish his body, going without food or water for months on end if need be.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

He pulled an ancient weathered chart out from a satchel fastened around his waist, unfurling it on the dirt floor as he held his glowlamp up to see. By his calculations, and the displacement of terrain over thousands of years, he was getting close to his ultimate goal. The decrepit ruins of Xim the Despot's palace, buried beneath the sands and lost to history. The Four Hundred Year Darkness had made a mockery of archeological records, most of which had to be painstakingly rebuilt from the ground up by modern organizations. Some had never been found again, forever discarded to the destructive nature of time.

Emperor Carnifex was no archeologist, but he knew the power in legacy.

One he desired to claim for himself.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Objective 2

There he was.

The roots of trouble the Saaraishash has been observing lately. The same trouble that got Djorn here in the mines. Maliphant appeared much different from the reports Djorn read. Oh, yes the Inquisitor always read his homework well. If not, what purpose would he have here if he slacked on the job? Probably make this Empire a mere reflection of other Imperial factions in the past that were less competent than the current Sith Empire.

Bline extended his hand to shake the Sith’s own; however, he didn’t offer a smile. It was a serious one, the disciplined face you’d expect when meeting a soldier. Before being recruited into the Inquisition he was a soldier that preferred reconnaissance and other covert operations.

”You can say that, Lord Maliphant. I’ve been entrusted by my superiors to be the head of security of this reconstruction,” the Inquisitor said to the Sith Knight.

That wasn’t his only task. That and to keep a close eye on the man. Wouldn’t want any complications that would affect them in the long run.

”Where do we start?”

He didn’t have any knowledge of mining or revamping these quarries. That’s why [member=“Darth Maliphant”] was sent here.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Chandaar Mines
Objective 2

Interacting with: [member="Djorn Bline"]
_____________________________________

“Well, things have already started…”, he said with a more informative tone as he took the holopad he was typing away on and began to walk from Djorn, assuming he would follow.

“Hiring locals has proved problematic, as some have been stealing Imperial equipment at a surprising rate. Something organized no doubt, likely to hinder our efforts at improving their… condition.”, the Sith said with some salt, as if the current standing of the planet was nothing above that of Nal Hutta, a sickening swamp of disgust that few ever even wished to approach.

Sighing, Maliphant’s assistant moved a keycard to open up the restricted room they would be planning most of their efforts. The door opened to reveal a somewhat mundane office, mostly devoid of supplies but a few unpacked boxes and an Imperial banner behind the desk. It at least had chairs, and with that Maliphant motioned for Djorn to find a seat while he moved behind the desk and began to rummage around.

When he was finished, he pulled the datapad back up and continued to type away as he spoke;

“Deploying some units there should be your first priority. The sooner we get rid of the miscreants, the sooner the mines will be operational.”, he said before stopping himself.

“Oh, and reports show that there might be terrorist ideas being pandered to within some of the work camps. I’d look into that, as the construction of the orbital refinery might prove disastrous if there is in fact backing to such idiocy.”

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

Barancar​

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HIMS Elidibus​

Objective IV - BYOO​

[member="Taeli Raaf"]​

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[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJha78EQGwc[/media]​

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"What foolishness." Fiolette commented and turned away from the scene before her, "Captain Sentongo you have the bridge."

The woman from Moorja nodded in acknowledgment as she took command from the Rear Admiral. By now the anti-imperialist forces were dying quicker than their reinforcements could arrive, and the shipyards were nearly complete in their subjugation. Total percent just a little over fifty-two on the whole, complete subjugation would be had by the end of delta shift no doubt. Fiolette had a small matter to oversee on Janilis VII. "Contact with Captain Tarkin?" She inquired privately with a communications officer, the young man nodded in acknowledgment he much like Fiolette's beau hailed from Lorrd. In but a second, a grainy blue holographic image of the Captain emerged.

The Captain wearing the advanced armor, and the markings of the 52nd Company 'Iron Talons,' responded to the hail. "Captain Tarkin here."

"Captain, Rear Admiral Yvarro. Status on the libraries there?"

"Janilis VII falls to us as we speak, we've help from the Blackblades and another portion of the Armada with strict instructions not to damage the planet's libraries per Darth Arcanix as requested." He informed them and looked behind him a moment. "Subjugation status forty-six percent as of now, libraries should be in our complete grasp by the night's end."

"Good, thank you, Captain. Her Ladyship appreciates this greatly, Yvarro out."

When the communications were cut, she looked back over to the viewport where the scene before her was nearly as it was when she turned command over. The anti-imperialists continued to burn underneath the might of the Sith-Imperial Armada while the shipyards subjugation process continued without much resistance now that the Elidibus had moved in closer. Onyx-clad armor seemed to reflect the stars own light as the sheer size of the vessel cast a shadow over the very shipyards themselves. Wedged shaped vessels tore through the make-shift fleet with ease, Yvarro made her way back to the command center and took a seat to oversee the Captain's actions.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective IV - BYOO
Cadinth System

[member="Fiolette Yvarro"]

While Fiolette had command of most her command, including the Elidibus, Taeli had taken a small detachment of forces to the Cadinth system to subjugate it. The Oligarchy had offered a paltry resistance, but they had been no match for the forces arrayed against them. The Prime Oligarch and his government had surrendered, especially once they watched their single Star Destroyer get eviscerated by the Sith forces. Even as the Legion forces under her command went about rounding up and occupying the planet, Taeli was off to the real reason she had come to the world.

The planet had been devastated by industrialization, much of it reduced to a rare black sand desert outside the cities and capital of Saskapeg. But hidden within those black dunes were ruins of past civilizations, including some fascinating ruins that had attracted the attention of the Lady of Secrets. A Guardian Corps droid factory had recently been discovered, according to her agents on the world, and the government had been trying to see if they could reactivate it and produce some of the old droids before the Sith arrived.

Clearly, they had been unsuccessful and now one more of the anti-imperialist parties in the Tion Cluster had been brought to heel, and Taeli was coming down from orbit to the ruined factory site.

 

[Mythos]

Objective: III Kill the King/ Assist [member="Sian Jerikao"] and Vestille Thumara
Location: The Throne Room

The time for subtlety was over, as he sunk his Ax into the transparisteel he was under fire but he entered the room in a blur of motion and the element of surprise was on his side. Forward was the only way to go, the entire floor was a massive room and the area of effect he attacked with his entry was small. He came under fire from all fires of the room but before him was a large ramp and to his left was the only exit to the entire floor. A swing of his ax blocked the oncoming fire and swatted it to the side, a second swing flung the weapon into the armored chest of a guard not three meters from him. His body count now tallying three he ignited his lightsaber and fell into a defensive stance aimed at deflecting and redirecting blaster fire.

The close quarters nature of his entry allowed him to quickly close the distance on immediate threats. Although the royal defense was accurate and tight, forcing Mythos to have a close movements and rapid jerks of his blades to keep in form he was able to inch forward and close in on the initial firing line. As he saw a break he took a dive to the left and called on the force to fling more shrapnel into his enemy, this time with the bodies of those he had already slain. Behind the cover of the ramp he was safe from the fire that pinned him down but as soon as he heard the thump connect and the fire of blasters slow down from one side his popped up and burst through to the other side of the ramp.

He ignited the second part of his lightsaber and now fell fully into his preferred fighting style, Juyo. Jumping up and bringing his blade in a vertical slice he cut through one trooper and his rifle then deflected the fire from his ally into the second floor of the room that held several riflemen in catways, killing one. The volume of the fire dwindled but in return the precision of the blaster fire intensified, forcing Mythos back into a defensive possition that did little to help his footing when a thermal detonator exploded near him.

He was sent flying but recovered due to his knowledge of Ataru, coming down behind another trooper and used the momentum of the impact to decapitate him and land on his feet. He landed close to another trooper, the battle brother of the one he killed in his landing, the blaster fire of his own allies killed him as it followed Mythos through the air. Now only a few more remained and one was in the catways preparing what looked to be a rocket propelled grenade. Too far for sith lightning Mythos made a different call, he shut his lightsaber off and took two steps to the left to get to cover, one kicking a rifle to his hands. He ducked two pot shots from behind the throne and aimed the rifle at the catways and fired two shots each connecting to the soldier in the dome and dropping his body to the main floor.

Now there was silence interrupted only by the same potshots from a blaster rifle from behind the throne. Slowly Mythos walked out of the edge of the ramp, took a full step up into the ramp, dusted himself off and with a blast of Telekinesis flung the entire throne from where it was across the fifty meter room, slamming to the wall with enough force to shatter the durasteel legs. Behind it was revealed the pathetic figure of King Sigmund cowering for his life. Mythos stood before him at the end of the ramp with his lightsaber in one hand surrounded by all the death he had personally created, the king was right to fear. The black blade of pride was hungry.

"General this is Mythos. Do i kill him or do you want him alive?" He asked into his comlink, almost sure he knew the answer but in these situations he thought it best to check in and be sure. After all... things change all the time.​

 

[Kalak the Raykkan]

The Raykkans were greed incarnated.

Hungry.

They were also toxic.

Where some might have looked upon Chandaar and saw a destitute wasteland Raykkans saw potential. If there was one ugly relationship in the world, it was the one slowly being established between the Sith Empire and the Makesh Cartel. Dellalt's beauty was slowly being corrupted, its sentient species underwater subjugated and turned into workers, Lydrax (in cooperation with [member="Taeli Raaf"]) was being salvaged and turned into an efficient world of industry.


And now the Makesh Cartel came to Chandaar.

Once more they requested Kalak to serve as their intermediary. They didn't enjoy leaving the drowning waste pits of Raykka. Why? If they had a chump already running around there anyway. Kal didn't mind.

They didn't realize the power they placed in him and that served him just fine.

With him was [member="Koda Fett"] once more. The bounty hunter had shown his skill in the past. What Kalak needed right now was an enforcer. The Empire had need of Chandaar's resources. Part of it was an industrial zone the size of one of Raykka's smaller continents. It was a shame that it was currently being used as squatting field for all kinds of unsavory elements. "Ah, mister Fett." They had been waiting on the bounty hunter.

And there he was, stepping out of his dropship.

They overlooked the continent from the makeshift landing platform. The small base would serve as a headquarters. Now it just needed a mercenary leader who could run tactics.

"I hope your journey was inspiring."

 

[The Amalgam]

Objective: 1

Sub-objective: Survive

Post: 5

Merith's phrik alloy blades gave no quarter to the Shi'ido as they flashed lethally towards her, and The Amalgam, who had fought so hard just to reach another person to drain and sustain herself, was starting to make that slow slide back into decrepitude, the life she had taken from that gangster only providing her a fresh few minutes of combat ability, but as the 'charge' ran out so to speak, she'd start to go bad physically once more. She could feel her muscles on the verge of going into terminal breakdown as she fended of Merith's long, double edge razors as she retreated through the ancient ruined building of databanks they were fighting in, her purple blades hissing and blocking the swords attempts to disembowel her in bright fans of light. Even when you took away her stamina, (which would soon leave her) or her reflexes, (which, due to degredation, were at average human levels now and soon to be below average.) you were still left with a fairly deadly Niman and Jar-Kai specialist still relying on her tried and true method, defend as long as possible, and then strike unforgivingly once the opponent slips up.
The decaying Shi'ido, her face a corpse pallor, her eyes a moldy, decaying yellow, could still feel the Talisman's presence, which caused great pain to her as she fought, but it wasn't close by, at least, not close enough that Merith could reach it easily.

A Force-Push flung The Amalgam backward into the skeleton of a databank, causing one of her lightsabers to fly out of her hand. She could barely see the Miraluka, but still made out one of her phrik blades heading right for her face. Only a survival-driven parry caught the sword and drove it to the side. But then the second one came, and the Shi'ido screamed as her left forearm was impaled against the wall.

"Its over, Changeling," Merith spoke calmly and evenly, though the Shi'ido, to her delight, could still feel the rage radiating off the blond woman. "You have lost."

"Not until I'm in the ground for good, dear. You count your chickens too quickly," the Amalgam chided, hearing the fighting intensify outside as the empire took this fledgling nation of thugs to task. She despised all of them, even now, remembering her every wretched second living in the underworks.

She swiped at Merith with her remaining purple lightsaber but Merith caught her arm and twisted it out of her hand, breaking her wrist. The Shi'ido screamed as she watched in real pain, her hatred for the black and red armored Miralukan at a fever pitch.

"I'm going to fething kill you for that!" the shapeshifter screeched in rage.

"Your threats are empty, Sith, just like your spirit." Merith retorted, tossing her lightsaber out through a crack in the window. "Now you pay for Ursula."

"Killing me definitely won't bring her back, Merith. You know that." The Amalgam taunted as cruelly as she could, decaying face giving a smirk.

Merith peered closer. "Before you die..." she snarled hatefully. "You will feel nothing but Ashla eating your rotting flesh you twisted old nerfherder."

"Y'know, I never understood why 'Nerfherder' is meant to be an insult, last I looked it was a respectable trade." The Amalgam thoughtfully pondered. The quip earned her a punch to the face that nearly dislocated her jaw and knocked her senseless for a few seconds. Her muscles started to sag on her frame as breakdown grew ever closer to terminal. Her injuries did not help matters.

Merith stood over her, snorting in fury.

"You are a vile creature that kills and manipulates for pleasure. You may think you are more than that. You may aspire to be more than that...but you never will be..."

"You really are taking this whole thing with Ursula rather...personally...aren't you?" The Amalgam asked mockingly, her words laced with contempt.

Merith's hands seized her throat and the Shi'ido concentrated.

Her broken arm seized one of Merith's and the shapeshifter clamped down in spite of the severe pain, using it, in fact to bolster her attempt as she violently tore away at Merith's life force, though even this far from her, the talisman disrupted the effort so while her flesh once again reversed from the brink, going taut, it wasn't regenerating as quickly as it could have, smiling as Merith's hair started to gray and her face started to age. The Miralukan managed to reach her sword that had impaled the Amalgam's other and yank it out, only for the healing dark sider to grab that arm as the sword was yanked out of it muscle tissue and force the blade away from her face, as her other arm unbroke itself, enabling her to grip Merith better as the cracks and lesions vanished from the Amalgam's face, her eyes looking healthier and less diseased. Merith finally managed to yank herself away but the damage was done...Merith had lost twenty five years and The Amalgam rose, the flesh on her face almost completely healed, only looking slightly discolored

"I always get more of a charge from Adepts..." the shapeshifter spoke, grinning as she advanced on Merith, who was crawling away from her. The Amalgam took out her laser pistol and shot her in the leg. Merith screamed. The Amalgam smiled and shot her in the other leg.

"I'm going to enjoy this..." the Shi'ido smirked stretching out her hand to finish draining her.

"Not yet!" Merith snarled, rolling over and flinging a knife made of nullification resin into The Amalgam's abdomen, making her double over as her body went into shock and she desperately yanked out the blade as her body started to shake, her flesh starting to discolor and wrinkle again. Nullification Resin. Her alchemized host bodies had always had this...allergy so to speak that she had never been able to mitigate or correct. Merith had chosen her weapons well.

The Amalgam dropped to the floor, crawling away from Merith, who now tried to crawl towards her with a hunting knife...

 

[Koda Fett]

It had been as inspiring as the sound of rusted metal, so brittle and damaged, being struck by that of a hammer could ever seem. Perhaps to some it was inspiring​, but not to Fett. This Mandalorian, whilst accepting such a role of a Warlord, had never failed to remove himself of such roots; he was, for eternity; going to be the Bounty Hunter. It was the hunt that inspired him.

His booted feet collided with the metallic flooring of the ramp that lowered with a hiss, steam blowing outwards, and a subtle vibration as the makeshift landing pad interfered-- ever so slightly --with the vessels ramp. His Carbine pointed skyward as the barrel had leant against his shoulder, his T-Visor narrowed upon the Raykkan as his synthesised voice spoke so freely. "What've you got for me, Kalak?" Fett asked, an eyebrow quirking beneath his helmet, yet never to be seen.

Business had been rather simple between the two. Fett was the Hunter, and Kalak was Feast- the Mandalorian purely delivered the meal to the feast, but he was never too interested on witnessing it. There weren't many things that made his stomach churn, but the screams and cries of a grown man had always been... discomforting, to say the least.

[member="Kalak the Raykkan"]

 

[Kalak the Raykkan]

[member="Koda Fett"]

He had made him watch the first time.

Not by command or anything. Something told him that Koda would have attempted to kill him for it. But there were other means to hold a man. Dangle an opportunity, a trick, a fix, either in the way of money or fame? They were bound to listen. The fact that he shared it between.... bites had been an endless supply of amusement to Kal. While the Raykkan hadn't been able to see through the blank visor... he could imagine.

"The Sith Empire has requested the Makesh Cartel's assistance in making this," The wasteland of scrap and ruined factories stretched out before them "Into a thriving industrial zone again. It is a shame that it is currently being occupied by hoodlums and thugs."

His voice almost sounded sad.

Then Kalak regained his spring (literally) as he flopped up towards the railing to study the endless masses of scrap. "I have hunters, soldiers, but I need someone to lead them."

A savvy glance to the side and the Mandalorian.

"I need the Master of Hunter, mister Fett."

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Royalist Stronghold, Chandaar​

Objective III :: Eliminate the Royalist Threat​

Assisted By: [member="Sian Jerikao"] | [member="Mythos"]​

​

The fighting had become up-close.

The Royalists, for all their faults and foolishness in trying to drive the Sith Empire from their home, were at the very most stubborn. The combined assault of infantry, support weapons and armor had rolled over the lines of defense of the Stronghold and had broken up a solid defensive line into separated segments. As the Legion washed over the dug in and well equipped Royalists, the General was with them at the forefront, his terrible secret on display and demonstrating its sheer power as it ripped and tore through enemy combatants as if they were nothing more than lambs to the slaughter. Teeth and sword worked in tandem to clear the path, his subordinates moving through the various trenches and pre-fab positions and clearing them out with grenades, flamethrowers and rifles. The history of the 7th had been formed entirely on shock doctrine, rushing the enemy and using ferocity and weapons of terror to demoralize and ultimately destroy the enemy. In truth, the 7th took elements from all levels of warfare, their Commanding Officer a mutant of doctrine and knowledgeable on tactics for both the small and larger scale; eventually twisted and shaped into his own unique blend to create a force that was entirely adaptable to the situation it found itself within, all cemented into a rigorous training doctrine that bled the weak and made those strong enough to endure it into hardened and zealous warriors.

The Royalists has a zeal very much akin to the 7th, fighting in the name of their King. The success of the Legion simply came down to the difference in manpower, the servants of the Force among them-- And a General that housed a beast that sought nothing more than destruction and the consumption of its enemies.

The push was still going strong, very strong in fact, the Royalists across the defensive line leading to the Stronghold had begun to pull back and try to conserve their forces by regrouping at a secondary line that held reservists and those prepared to cover the first line in the event that the Sith ever broke through. That possibility had become reality and as the scattered survivors of the Royalist's first line of defense withdrew, they were covered by heavy emplacement fire amidst a sea of regular rifle bolts. It put a momentary halt upon things as the Legion was pinned down and unable to advance, at least for a few moments; in time, the suppression would no doubt wear thin, support would be allocated and the momentary victory for their enemy would all but end-- And so the push on would continue. It was during this that the General heard his communications, notifying him that Mythos and his supporting elements had not only breached the Stronghold but also, by his words and choice of tone, perhaps even the grovelling in the background, King Sigmund had been captured. A flare of delight hissed from the shadow serpent upon his left shoulder as it swallowed its collected meal whole as the beast took the sensation of warfare and all emotion that drew from it and covered itself with it like it were mud. As much as cutting off the head of the King would potentially stop conflict-- His death could have the opposite effect, resulting in a battle that would not end until the last Royalist was slaughtered.

"Mythos, General Thumahra; I want him alive. Killing him may drive his troops into a suicidal frenzy. Keeping him alive may bring a swifter end to this battle."

He hoped he was right.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The ground trembled, weathered stone shattering along near invisible fault lines before falling into the ancient forgotten chamber beneath. Above stood the Dark Lord of the Sith, his right hand outstretched and fingers twitching with subtle movement as he bent the Force to his will and demanded that it carry out his wishes. He stood in the forum of what was once a great and mighty palace, one so resplendent that its grandeur could never truly be replicated.

Yet, none of that mattered now.

What had once existed and inspired awe and respect in the hearts of many now laid beneath his feet, forgotten and discarded. And all it took was an effortless twist of his hand to break it apart, scattering its refuse to the wind and rip open the path to his future. With uncharacteristic grace, the Emperor leaped forward and slowly levitated down onto his feet connected with the sand-swept floor of the room. Baleful eyes scanned the chamber, glowrod illuminating what had been hidden by shadow for untold millennia. Inscriptions covered the walls, all retelling events from thousands upon thousands of years ago that was more or less already documented in modern archives.

What the Emperor was looking for was something not on record, or had been incompletely translated. He descended through the chambers below, continuing on until he reached his destination. A massive mural stretching across an entire wall nearly ten feet from end to end, and at its heart was a romanticized illustration of Xim the Despot and those of his immediate family and relatives through marriage. Carnifex, transfixed by what he saw, reached out with his left hand and touched one of the individuals surrounding the Despot. The Force hummed beneath the stone, and before his very eyes, the image shifted ever so slightly to transform the individual beneath the Emperor's fingers into something completely new.

A tall warrior with long black hair, covered in ritual tattoos and graced with a new name that had replaced whatever ancient designation had languished in obscurity prior to his intrusion.

Σαµßpαvo​

 

[Kotos]

Objective: I: Restore Ambaril
Allies: [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

Zey fell into silence, listening as Avacyn explained how the Empire planned to restore the planet to its former state of being. “A noble pursuit.” She commented, dark eyes scanning the decrepit structures around them. There was no doubt in her mind that the Empire had the resources to boost Chandaar but she had to wonder if the upheaval was worth the effort. Perhaps it was less about caring for the civilians of the planet and more about preserving their image.

Which she understood from an organizational perspective. If you actively slaughtered your own people, they might rebel. Even if they were to put down, it would send a message to others and incentivize others to fight back against Empire rule. The same rule applied to the gangs in any slum; don’t burn your own house down.

As they made their way closer to the warehouse, the Sith Lord raise a hand and Zey came to a stop. “Sounds good.” Avacyn was level-headed which she appreciated. She thought about the bigger picture, not just the ‘here and now’.

So far it seemed like the Sith had all kinds. She wasn’t partial to the creepy red-headed doctor who’d given her an initial exam upon her entrance to the Sith Empire. Not much of a talker and rather boring.

Two seconds later she’d kicked the door in. No point in trying to be sneaky—given what had been happening over the city, the thugs likely knew that something was coming. Adequately, several goons had been overseeing their latest spice shipment on the lowest floor. The first thing Zey noticed were her targets—a motely mix of humanoids and aliens. From her periphery she could see the crates stacked neatly against the wall, one of them having been recently pried open with its contents exposed. But that was of lesser importance as she lunged, knowing how to shift the weight of her body. Though tall, she was rather slender and had a practice agility.

The first brute, an Aqualish, caught a knife to the throat as he drew a pair of blasters. As he fell, Zey pulled one out of his hand before it managed to slip from his now limp grasp. After parrying away a second man’s blade with her own, the pressed the blaster to his forehead and pulled the trigger. The noise of the scuffle would cause whoever else was in the warehouse to go on alert, and soon reinforcements would pour into the room they were in.

 

[Koda Fett]

There was a sudden loft of both eyebrows beneath his battered, bruised, scorched and scratched helmet. He asked the question on his mind, no matter how obvious it seemed, "You want me to lead your men?" His tone awfully inquisitive, as expected. There hadn't been much movement within the Bounty Hunter beyond that point. It was his mind that ran in circles, back and forth, up and down. He had only begun to lead those Mandalorians, and now a type of people more... undisciplined were going to be that of a challenge. That is, however, if they hadn't come to respect the reputation that Koda Fett had acquired. He just kill them for their insolence, too.

Certainly no skin of Kalak's back; it just meant one less metaphorical mouth to feed.

[member="Kalak the Raykkan"]

 

[Kalak the Raykkan]

[member="Koda Fett"]

An affirmative twitch of his ears.

Then a nod.

Mammals often didn't realize the value in expressive body language. It was something that Kalak forgot more often than not. Especially after a long bout on Raykka, where body language meant so much more. Predator or prey... the difference could usually be found in a single tail flick. "Indeed, mister Fett, I believe you'd be the perfect fit." He started flopping down the stairs and into the facility at large.

By the time they were inside the atmosphere changed.

More rusty, industrial, worn.

They had taken this outpost over and not done much to renovate. Just the bare basics. Eventually they reached a viewport that allowed Koda to look into the hangar bays. They were large and filled with sentients of many shapes and colors.

"They are not.... very disciplined." Kalak admitted almost immediately. "But show them strength and they will bow, yes?"

 

[Koda Fett]

"Hmph." Fett huffed, amusement betwixt his disbelief. His T-Visor had peered outwards into the hangar, and whilst impressive considering the conditions... those within it left him less than satisfied. They were the potential hunters, after all, or so he had assumed to some degree. Fett had become increasingly spiteful of those vermin. Perhaps it were because they were competition, but such competition had only ever proved to be nothing more than a bump in the road. The Carbine within his grip had evoked a certain remembrance, reminding him how easily the common foe could be dispatched. They were never anything to concern oneself with.

The Mandalorian had shifted his gaze, however; peering up to face Kalak. "And my fee?" Koda had questioned. There was bound to be something more substantial than his standard rate-- no matter how exorbitant already --for leading some force the Raykkan had pieced together, even if ragtag. Kalak was right, after all. All you had to do was dangle an opportunity- dangle credits, or the right amount of them and Fett was yours.

[member="Kalak the Raykkan"]

 

[The Amalgam]

Objective: 1

Sub-objective: Survive

Post: 6



The Amalgam crawled as her body's allergic reaction to the Resin-Knife took hold, stiffening her muscles, weakening her attempts to call on The Dark Side. She needed to feed again. She needed to feed multiple times in order to offset the poisoning effects, and Merith could not offer much more sustainance, plus, for all the Amalgam had done in corrupting her, she was still dangerous, and even though the Talisman was far enough away she was not paralyzed, both the poisoning and its mere proximity still served to make her condition worse.

The Shapeshifter managed to will strength into her legs and pulled herself up and away from the swipe from Merith's hunting knife. She had no chance to gloat however, nor shoot Merith in the face as she planned, as an explosion from what sounded like a rocket smacked the building, collapsing parts of the floors and walls they were on and causing them both to tumble into the street, amidst other gangmembers in the street who scrambled from the partly collapsed building, imperial TIE's streaking overhead with that familiar scream from their engines, firing at enemies on the ground, some exploding, others catching fire from being in proximity of the laser blast. Drawing her pistol, The Amalgam struggled up in the dust of the rubble around her while their vision was still clouded and opened fire. Two got it in the knees and another in the face as the thin red beam bore a hole into his skull. Her objectives here didn't take a break because someone specific wanted her dead. Or because she was actively dying unless she drained multiple people, and soon.

Not wasting time in that department, the Amalgam, feeling the sickly allergic reaction to the resin become an unpleasant burning in her chest, dragged one of her victims behind what was left of the building. She clasped his face, her life-force reaching out to his and ensnaring it. This was the part she enjoyed the most: the fear and pain of someone as their eyes started to cloud over and they rotted in her grasp.

Her flesh, having started to wriggle and break down again, stabilized as the man screamed, his victimizer taking in every second of intense suffering with extreme relish. Her flesh looked perfectly normal after a few minutes, but the poison effect from the Resin was still occuring...she had held its effects off, and her muscles felt normal, but unless she drained someone in the next five minutes or so, she'd be back at square one.

Time to finish Merith. But where--?

--The Amalgam didn't have to wait long because she felt the hated presence of the Talisman getting closer. Merith must have fixed that issue with her legs. But she could feel Merith's burning anger for her role in Ursula's end.

Perfect.

She was close by, and getting closer, tracking the Shi'ido by her poisonous presence in the Force. The Amalgam did not hide it as she walked out into a street that had been momentarily cleared of enemies by the onslaught of the Imperial Army who were going through the city, three of whom pointed blasters at her, but to their credit did not fire, knowing the curvy, stunning woman in a combat suit so tight looking it might as well have been painted on knew she was out of place. "Identify!" one of them barked.

"Shhhhh...relax...Saaraishash..."

"Prove it."

The Amalgam put her hands on her hips in annoyance for a second, even as she felt an ever stiffening pain from the Talisman getting closer. She scratched the back of her head for a second, then, in a "Eureka!" moment, pointed at the ground from where a gangmember was attempting to flee and spoke a spell she had used earlier in the Apartment complex:

"The Unholy Spirit feasts upon my foe's gamey flesh..."

The same purple, snarling, emaciated Togrutan woman-ish horror with no face coalesced and immediately set after the screaming man, catching up to him in seconds and slashing into him with both sets of claws, disemboweling him before it vanished, having spread pieces of him quite liberally over a large area in a span of a few seconds.

The soldiers stared at The Amalgam for a moment.

"Have a nice night, Ma'am." The Leader of them said and the three immediately ran back to join their respective squads in cleansing Ambaril, though one of them gave her the "Devil Horns" sign with one of his hands, which the Shi'ido was more than happy to return with a Devil-Horns gesture of her own before she got serious again. Merith was almost here.

She stretched out her perceptions, closing her eyes, feeling for the familiar taint of her Lightsaber. The Talisman's presence disrupted her efforts, made it too hard to pick out its connection. Which meant all she had was her laser pistol. But if she played her cards right, she might not even need that.

A few minutes later...

Merith had injected painkillers into herself to keep moving and had found the Talisman in the rubble, waiting until the Army had mostly finished sweeping through this particular part of Ambaril, with who knew how many other forces waiting for them on the horizon, before seeking that beast.

Merith gripped the round Talisman in her hand. She was under no illusions of making it off planet alive--ambushing The Amalgam during an active invasion of a planet had been her best ploy for catching the little sadist off guard in her own territory, and with the military dragnet over the planet, there was no chance of escape. Doubtless she would be found and killed soon after even if she succeeded, which looked increasingly unlikely.

At least, without her Talisman, which she had found after the battered, bruised, artificially aged Miralukan dragged herself from the rubble, which unfortunately bought The Amalgam precious time to regenerate herself at the expense of another. How many had she thrown to their doom to kill this witch? How many had been pointlessly sacrificed?

Merith did not know, and Merith did not care. The Amalgam had to die...not just for killing Ursula, but for also taking nearly three decades off her natural life span. She could barely stand.

But she could not give up. Not when she had the Talisman. It was everything she had been promised it was. But then again, The Amalgam was everything she had been told as well. She was so corrupt she could actually suppress its power at point blank range just through focusing her spiritual corruption out through her hand. At least temporarily. But doing so had weakened her significantly. Just being in its vicinity had hurt her.

No question, The Talisman would get her far, but she was going to have to do the job herself to truly finish it.

Trouble was, she was about to start running on empty. She either finished off The Amalgam with every ounce of the amulet's power on sight or it was over.

She could see The Amalgam in the Force. It was a horrid, rotting thing, far worse than the decay she had witnessed on the Shi'ido's face at the Talisman's exposure.

But curiously, there was a sliver of conflict. Obsession mostly. But also conflict. Over what, she could not tell--she had demonstrated no remorse for her crimes--but there was conflict over something.

Merith decided as she got closer and closer to the corrupt, putrid presence in the Force, soon to be within range for the Talisman to be properly focused, that whatever it was, The Amalgam could resolve it in hell.