Dominion Knights of Avarice | Dominion of Brosi | Warlords of the Sith

[Dasam Kal]

Hfredium Corporate Conglomerate HQ - Shoengen - Brosi
Tags: Vora Kaar | Darth Voyance

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[THEME]​

As the battle raged between the mercenary/sith trooper mixture and the forces of the New Imperial Order, Dasam took place within the confines of the Conglomerate Headquarters. Residing in the main room with the Sovereign of Strength and the Ore-Duke Dovark. An individual that the sith warrior had mixed feelings about: Respect for the warrior past the noble presented in some of his ways, but distaste for how low his person has stooped under the effects of greed and gluttony. He stood beside as a silent observer of the battle, playing scenarios in his head like a game of Dejarik.

His attention caught at the fit Dovark brought once his transmission was cut short by the Dark Saint. The conversation that ensued was listened to, but the Sith Knight's eyes were focused on the holographic presentation of the battle. His golden eyes focused on the bright blue hue of the friendly forces moving onto enemy positions. Attempting to contest the Nihun River District, the final point to win Shoengen. Providing no reaction to the words exchanged, not even to the strange analogy. The Warrior just kept track of the words that his ears caught, remaining quiet.

Until he was called.

The door to suggestions was opened by the Sovereign and Kal did not require much time to think of an improvement to the current strategy. Instead, he set his gaze to the stubborn and prideful Ore-Duke. The Sith had words reserved for the Duke who took offense to the idea of taking suggestions, but he allowed the Sovereign of Strength to speak on behalf of the pair. Once submission was given, the Sith Strategist went with his advice.

"Given that the Nihun River District is held out by the remainder of New Imperial Forces, I believe tasking a mercenary force from any of the landmarks we have secured to head to the Nihun District on the opposite side of where the main force is at. It's a simple flanking maneuver. While the district is heavily fortified on all sides, the numbers and good positioning will force some defenders to switch sides to deal with the flanking team. Or due to sheer shock and awe of our main assault, the flanking team may be ignored from any reinforcements until it's too late. From there, only time can tell. Either way, one side of the River District will succumb and both of our forces will close in on our enemy."

A suitable pincer strategy but one detail was purposefully ignored by the Sith. Should the mercenaries not be suited to the task, it'll take too long for reinforcements to come in and provide support. As for units to switch from the main assault over to the opposite side of the Nihun district, it'd be a long trek on foot. Perhaps the Noble's pride in his men will lead to their deaths, or maybe the mercenaries were worth such stubborn praise.

Only time will tell.

Dasam took the burying gaze of his eyes off of the Ore-Duke and turned his head over to the map once more. Where his eyes laid upon the roadwork and formation of buildings that guaranteed the long trek.

 

[Zinn Zinn Bink'sa]

Objective: 1
Opponents: Hans Rennagen

Despite being saberless with the exception of the vibroblade he carried. Zinn Zinn was excited to take part in one of his first missions. The Warlords had offered power, a way to make his own way in the Sith, as long as he swore fealty to the idea of the Warlords itself. Not shackled by the weakness of one Dark Lord that would lead the very idea of the Sith to ruin. For Zinn Zinn, the Gungan was only starting to realize his power in the dark side. All he knew was that he sought the guidance and knowledge of the Sith. Still have yet to find a Master, the Acolyte only followed the rest of the horde as it was unleashed. Only hoping to increase both his power and prestige in the eyes of the Lords that ruled the cabal.

The first target involved none other than what some had called the scourge of the Sith. The New Imperial Order, those that broke away from the Sith Empire in hopes of restoring some image of the Galactic Empire. The dreaded Sith Slayers, the Imperial Knights, not unlike Sith or even Jedi, but something of a militant force of warriors hellbent on wiping out all the Sith, be of the Empire, or the Warlords. All Zinn Zinn was told as a lowly acolyte to those that saw him as one. Was that this was the first path on taking the Sith Worlds. To restore the Sith's glory once more.

Now in a span of planned attacks the Warlords horde of Sith had started to emerge in trap around the Shoegen Delta. To take out the Delegation that came with the NIO, and all the Imp Knights that came with them. Thanks to water being his natural habitat Zinn Zinn broke off from the main force, swimming as if a shark within the sea. His head slowly emerging on the shore of the delta. His plan was to attack from behind, his dark aura attempted to hide in order to sneak his way.

Unknown to him, he would face a challenge that would test his metal as a Sith.

"These imps in big doo doo this time."

 

[Darth Perfidiae]

​

D a r t h _ P e r f i d i a e

| Location | Planetside, Brosi​

| Objective | Observation​

​

The slim, dark-robed figure of Perfidiae stood on the top of a building, overlooking the scenery laid out before her. The gentle breeze tinged with the smell of smoke and fire sent ripples across the fabric as she crossed her arms over her chest, observing; it was beneath her station and her own standards to be out and about on the front lines, leading a barbaric charge against an enemy that has waged numerous campaigns in an attempt to quell and quash their numbers.​

​

No, for her own reasons and purposes she came - to observe the enemy which would pose a relative threat to the Sith and by extension her own ambitions and goals in the future. She must know her enemy and know how they act, how they think, how they feel, and be able to strike with surgical precision to cripple her foes and bring them to their knees at her feet. Patience and knowledge was key to the future survival of the Sith, though the pawns and pieces that willingly cast their lives aside so freely in the name of Sith'ari Crusades were excellent tools for gauging the enemy.​

​

The future may have been clouded in a haze of Light and Dark, but she saw with clarity what was in store - Victory.​

 

[Oleksandr Palerma]

H O L D • T H E • L I N E
Shoengen Delta, Brosi
VIBES | DRIP

To be engaged: Ashin Cardé Varanin
​

The siege fell abruptly. Brosi was a diplomatic effort, an attempt by the Empire to extend its supply chain outward and strengthen their position for the campaign deeper into Sith Imperial space. For that to come under fire was deeply disturbing in its own right, but the deployed Imperial Knights had more pressing matters to attend.

With the bridge fortified, the last measure to implement was naturally evacuation. Several Knights and a garrison of Stormtroopers in the city proper shepherded the men back toward the line, even as the enemy strafed and bombarded selective targets. Under immense pressure, cracks began to show, and a heavy body count had already been reported. Every single survivor was vital, down to the last child.

It was that notion that guided his hand.

He held his shield fast, and the Force Imbued blade that hung at his side waited for the proper moment to heed his call. Oleksandr watched with an unreadable expression as women and children hurried past his post, at the business end of the bridge. The short range shield generators that had just flickered to life only just reached him, but they would not prevent a hostile approach on foot.

That was his duty, grim though it was. Vanguard. The last line of defense against the darkness, an Iron Wall against which enemies crashed like waves. He watched quietly as the refugees tore past him, screaming children, anxious mothers, feeble geriatrics- all of them, all reliant on him to stand just long enough.

The pressure that fell on him threatened to flatten him like a board. He drew a breath, then let it out. For generations, the children of the House Palerma studied in the traditions of the Jedi. Their cool heads and regal persona represented the ancient traditions of Serenno. In that way, he kept his wits about him. He had an example to set.

"It would appear that they have forgotten Kyber Dark," Olek mused to a nearby Stormtrooper, assigned to sentry duty. Where the Knights held, they understood the merit of allies. Even the smallest of them had purpose.

If the man behind the helmet laughed, the Knight never heard it. Stormtroopers were a less audacious sort, and their humor was often foul. Instead, the man remained vigilant with his weapon ready, waiting.

"Not to worry," Oleksandr muttered, "I feel the same way."

Their duty was the foulest of the bunch. At least the Exfil team had the luxury of falling back. It fell to them to cover the retreat.

Don't be so glum, Olek. It's your chance to be a big damn hero.

He remembered those words sourly. Oleksandr didn't want to be a hero. He didn't want to die on some battlefield, remembered for his exploits. He wanted to live. He had so many reasons to live.

Behind him, Rurik Fel and Bastard took up their own positions. The Man of Iron himself and a Crestfallen Knight, men renown for their heroism stood valiantly in defense of the Common Man. It only seemed proper for Oleksandr to do the same, unquestioning.

The stormtrooper to his right lifted his weapon and trained it on something in the distance. Whatever the man saw, it paled when compared to the malice that Olek now tasted in the Force. He half expected to see some manner of vicious beast crest the hill and descend toward them.

Instead, he saw only Lightsaber Wielders flinging themselves at any target that might satiate their base hunger. His expression thinned to stone. "Sith," he spat.

The Stormtrooper fired. That blast found the blade of a lightsaber, and the energy ricocheted back toward its source. He did not have to look toward the man to see the result. The outcry was sharp, and the armor managed to dull the blast but the shock from immense heat rendered him unconscious.

Oleksandr narrowed his eyes and braced for what came next.

 

[Molly Armstrong]

Enemy: Areyon
Equipment: Force-imbued armour and sword
Leading: The Mother's Mercy
Location: Conglomerate Tower, Sheongen
--------------------​

As Kuric reached for the next board member that he was going to send to the void, his second-in-command approached him.

"Sir," he spoke with a muffled voice through the plate helmet he wore, "the Imperial Knights are mounting another attack on the tower."

"I see." Kuric stopped just short of grabbing the grovelling man by the neck. "Then let us march. Hand me your sidearm first."

The cultist obliged and drew his pistol, placing it then in Kuric's hand. Kuric leveled the blaster at the line of businessmen. One by one he pulled the trigger and condemned each of them to death. It was not the show he had promised his followers, nor the one he had wished to give to the captives. But duty called.

The Mother's Mercy marched to the Conglomerate tower. The Imperials would not get in again. Brosi would belong to the Sith, now and forever more.

The Omega Guard amassed outside. He'd heard of them, the elite wing of the famed Imperial Knights. No matter their supposed skill, they too would be crushed under foot like ants.

"KNIGHTS! I'm afraid your pitiful attempts to hold this city are at an end!"

Kuric drew his sword, and then pulled it along the side of his gauntlet. The metals colliding produced small sparks. That was all he needed. Through the force, he willed those sparks to hold their form, before they grew larger and hotter. Eventually they were a ball of blazing fire levitating in Kuric's hand.

Kuric hurled the ball of flame towards the Omegas, intent to watch them burn...

 

[Darth Voyance]

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Objective 1: Knights of Avarice
Location: On Nihun Bridge - Engaging Bastard
NIO RP Partner: Bastard
Other NIO Enemies: Rurik Fel , Mazus Strain Kainan
Warlords Sith Partners: Kascalion Giedfield
Warlords Sith In-Vicinity: Darth Immortuos

---

The brilliant blue shell of the Imperial Shield-Generators mounted at the end of the bridge engulfed the Nihul Bridge just as Voyance’s interceptor had reached its attack range. Yanking the controls back, the interceptor banked away from the bridge and zoomed down the river. A Sith Pilot that was assigned as Voyance’s wingman flew to meet her flank and clung to her interceptor’s wing in an adjoining echelon formation.

“My lady their generators have cut off our bombing runs,” said the Sith Pilot.​

“Forget the bombing runs,” Voyance cooly replied, continuing, “The Dark Brood and I shall see this bridge taken. Target the Imperial Warships docked in the deltas. Have Admiral Hideki Satou [Obj.2] guide your run. Sink them!”​

“As you command,” confirmed the Sith Pilot before flying away.​

Voyance turned her controls sharply and spun her interceptor around. It flew directly back at the bridge. Levelling her targeting system on a central

section of the bridge Voyance primed the four Solar Ionization Cannons on her interceptor’s wing. Her thumbs gently perched on the fire buttons she waited until the interceptor was in range. She gritted her teeth and snapped her thumbs down in a crushing press. Four blindingly bright heavy laser blasts expelled from the cannon barrels. The blasts were high intensity beams of ionized light that could bypass conventional shields and melt durasteel.

Once the blasts traveled off in their burning fury, Voyance jerked the controls again and flipped the interceptor on its head. She flew above the bridge, and after pressing a control that activated the starfighter's auto-pilot functions, Voyance waved the top hatch open. In a swift motion, propelled by the Force, Voyance flew from her starfighter and dived past the attacked shielding to land on the bridge. Just as she landed on the bridge she had clenched her fist and ripped the Force’s ambient powers around her to swell in her body. Corrupted by her dark fury the fist unleashed the built up tension with a flex of the fingers into an open palm. A telekinetic blast erupted downwards, pulverizing the air into a condensed kinetic shockwave that flattened and dispersed anything or anyone below Voyance.​

Touching down, Voyance rolled forward from her landing spot and rose slowly. Her crimson armor (left) emerging from the debris clouds. She raised the double-sided lightsaber in her hand and ignited its first forward blade. Before her the Imperial Knights had gathered to meet Kascalion’s onslaught - now they would be caught by Voyance from behind.​

“Might I suggest falling on your swords,” Voyance jeered as she stepped closer to the Imperial Knights directly before her ( Bastard ), “I’m sure your ridiculous chivalry has some tennant that covers capitulating with grace.”

---

​

 

[Romund Sro]

Objective: #2
Tags: Open
Location:
Shoengen Delta
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​

Walking out the back entrance of the bunker Romund looked down at himself. Seeing crimson blood splattered and dripping from him. Looking at his vibrosword he realized that the weapon caused the mayhem inside. It's ultra sonic vibrations causing too much bloody damage for Romund's liking. He needed to get himself a lightsaber or similar energy weapon. That way he didn't spray red mist every time he hit someone with his weapon.

Overhead he heard the howls of starfighters in the sky. They were friendlies but what were they doing here? They must've changed course from their original Bombing runs. They rushed by overhead, Romund couldn't see it from where he was but he could hear them going to town on the Imperial Warships on the coast.

Nonetheless he needed to help secure the amphibious assault. He would need to get to other encampments to destroy the defenses further. Rushing over down the beach on one side to knock out one bunker after the other. Slicing down an opposition he faced between each encampment. He felt like he didn't need to worry as much about being as quick as possible in a race to deal with the Moffs. Now that it seems their retreat is under fire. He wanted to make sure that those soldiers on his side that were struggling on the beach could get some help from him.

After one last bunker taken care of Romund used a mind trick on the already shaken soldiers. Getting them to disarm and give up fighting. Walking past the main defensive line of bunkers now, Romund looked back to see some of the Warlord's soldiers finally making their to the thin row of bunkers that defended the beach. Right now he pondered for a bit on what his next course of action should be. He knew that the soldiers that he was with had their own tasks now that the initial assault was done with. Sheathing his vibrosword on his back he began making his way to the docks. Of the fortress city that reached into the delta. Bounding across the the shoreline to his next destination.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: 1
Tags: Mazus Strain

The helmet cracked under the grasp that held it. The troopers stood no chance. The legion they were supposed to fight came from ahead. But Alina didn't strike from the front. She wasn't part of that legion, or any other. Unfortunate for these troops. The last of these troopers was caught in her grasp, helpless as she broke open the shell that was supposed to protect him.

"Imperial filth." One final crunch caved the helmet in and the man stopped struggling. She tossed the corpse aside as the Warlord's troopers stepped through to continue their assault. Killing traitors was well and good, but she wanted the Knights. One in particular, but she'd settle for any of those silver blade wielding heretics. She flicked the blood from her fingers. Their blood wasn't worth consuming. Their Knights would be.

Alina continued forward with the soldiers. Maybe they'd come across a Knight sooner than later.

 

[Areyon]

A R E Y O N
OBJECTIVE 1
Engaging: Kuric Taumin
Gear: Lightsaber Pike, Armor

"Charge brothers! Leave no Sith standing!"
​

The Omega Guard started their charge on the tower. It was a full-on assault, the brakes had been taken off. Areyon spearheaded the group from the front, his saber pike raised high for all to see. The Sith laid waste to those not strong enough to protect themselves, and for that, they have granted themselves a fate far worse than death.

However, a new problem had arrived and needed to be dealt with quickly.

Darren, Areyon's brother-in-arms, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him aside. The Guard stopped before the both of them, assuming defensive positions. Areyon beckoned them forth. "Continue, brothers! I will join you in a moment." The group acknowledged his order and kept with the assault. Areyon then looked back at Darren. "Are you mad?! We have no time to be chatting while the Sith continue to bombard-"

Darren cut him off. "Listen to me, brother. We have reports of another Sith warrior moving in bounds of our position." Areyon stood confused, yet alert. Another Sith was close to them? How come he did not sense anything? The musk of the dark was so pungent it could be smelt for miles. "Where is this Sith dog?" He replied hastily. "Towards the southeast. Their movements predict that they are headed towards the shield generator. A further motive is unknown." Darren replied.

Areyon knew that splitting up his forces was to be a challenge. A similar ordeal took place on Bastion and their casualties were higher than what should have been. But he understood the risk of having the enemy close to an important position like the shield generator. Areyon took a deep breath. "Go. Take a quarter of the Guard and intercept them. Stay alert and be ready for anything." Darren nodded in acknowledgment. "Stay safe brother." Areyon held his hand out "You as well," Darren replied, locking arms to symbolize their brotherhood and strength. From that point forward, they had split up.

Areyon regrouped with his Omega Guard to find them staring at the Sith warrior who threatened them. He retook his position in the front and held his lightsaber pike in front of him. The Devaronian had something to say, so he listened.

"KNIGHTS! I'm afraid your pitiful attempts to hold this city are at an end!"

Areyon found the tone of the Sith to be disapproving. How dare such a being speak filth in front of him. He would prove to him that his confidence would be his downfall. Areyon said no words, yet his body spoke for him. He, along with the Omega Guard, assumed an attack position and was ready to start the offensive. The mass of heat and gas followed.

"Guards! Shield!" Areyon shouted. The men who crowded in the back had formed a defensive line in the front and formed a Force barrier to respond to the large ball of flame. The concentration of the heat was intense. Holding it back put a strain on his men and allowed for tiny bits of damage to affect them. Yet with one final push, the fire would dissipate into the air. His cloak had several burns and even his armor had bits of charred ash on it. He sighed. His men dropped their barrier and reassumed attack positions. Areyon pointed his weapons towards the warrior that challenged him and his Knights and spoke loudly for everyone to hear him.

"That mere distraction of an attack will not stop us from killing you. Frankly, you will regret doing that." He looked back towards his brothers, and his brothers stared back at him. They were as ready as him to follow through. With a war cry, they were back on the offensive, charging into the fray. The tower was a step closer to being taken back.

D A R R E N
The Omega Guard Second-in-Command
Engaging: Jacen Novastar
Gear: Lightsaber Pike, Armor

Darren and his detail of Omegas ran as fast as they could. The enemy Sith was already leagues ahead of them, so intercepting them would not happen. He would have to confront the person head-on, which could lead to a heap of unknown possibilities. Yet, the chance was to be taken. To secure the success of the New Imperial Order meant removing all enemies of the Order so no further trouble arises.

The shield generator had come into sight. From outside observance, no major damage had been caused and the structure still seemed secure. But they would not be able to confirm unless they got closer. He had no idea what to expect, so he told his men to stay put for now. They were to only observe so creating a strategy would be less difficult to accomplish.

But they stood vigilant and ready.

 

[Bastard]

Crestfallen
New Imperial Order
Knights of the Empire
Rurik Fel | Darth Voyance | Kascalion Giedfield

An electrical surge of malignant force exploded out from behind the Imperial bulwark. Cries echoed from the point of impact as bodies flew away, some sent over the bridge, others pulverized near-instantly. Armor cracked and bodies blackened as death laid waste to a dozen or more wounded stormtroopers caught only inches from their evacuation. Those lucky enough to survive were left thrashing about on the ground, their bodies spasmed from the onslaught capable of leveling a small home. Soldiers closer to the Imperial dropship behind the Sith took aim, ready to blast the blue-skinned beauty.

Errant lifted a hand to stop them. He slid his black weapon into its sheath, his pale gaze locked on the Sith Lady's burning eyes. Pulling his hand across his body, the Knight unclipped a hilt hanging opposite his Sith blade. With a flick of his thumb, the familiar snap-hiss of the legendary lightsaber sounded. A herald to the coming battle, ardent white light clashed with the crimson of the double-bladed saber.

"You must be Darth Voyance," Errant mused, his blade held between them. "My father spoke of you once before. He said you were a being of great power, yet shackled. Seeing you here, a slave to your passions, I see he was correct."

The Albino strode closer to the twi'lek, a wave of his hand dismissing others who moved closer. "I'm afraid you've erred in coming here if you believed a Knight of the Empire would surrender," he'd circle around her, his face emotionless, closer to carved marble than flesh and bone. "In your haste to flaunt your power, you've willfully marched to your doom. When I deliver your head to the Imperator, I will ensure he knows of your final, misguided kindness."

The Knight charged the Sith headlong without warning, weapon raised high before arching down towards her head. It flashed out from there into a flurry of swift, measured strikes. Errant studied the woman with each blow. Measuring her skill, silently gauging her strength.

 

[Rurik Fel]

M A N _ O F _ I R O N
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORD EXECUTOR
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber
Darth Voyance | Kascalion Giedfield
Bastard | Mazus Strain | Kainan

BROADSWORD​

Once more into the fray. His aim was the reckoning, the end of this dreaded tyranny of darkness. He continued the advance, the sons and daughters of the Empire at his flanks, crimson pressed into the argent plates of their armor. Shocktroopers. The first of the storm. A Sith Knight sought to spill his lifeblood on this derelict planet and he pressed the argent plade mercilessly through the armor, flesh and bone to end him immediately, swiping the blade out in a spray of gore before he kicked the corpse down into the ground, continuing his slow foreboding march before the voice of another pierced his thoughts.

The Devil.

"Imperials..."

"Do you sense it? Do you accept it? Do you accept that when we meet this day, you will be surrounded by death and that you will suffer in nothing more than cold, primordial gloom? That such inordinate amounts of time will pass as the lift slips from your veins, all sense will be lost in the void? That is the fate we are sentencing you to. That I am sentencing you to. Prepare."​

Willed through the Force, those words seared into his thoughts with sharp searing pain.

"I know you're here. I sensed you immediately. You'll meet your reckoning. Where ever you and your depraved horde march, the Iron Sun will eclipse you. Know this, I will be in your shadow until my blade is driven through your heart, Demon." Rurik speaks through the force before he continues his march onward, cold, calculated slaughter.

He was waiting for him.

They were going to meet.

And he doubted only one of them would escape. If Kascalion wished to snuff out the Lord Executor, he'd need to act on his own overt will and lurch into the fray of battle. Until then, Rurik would work to pile these degenerate sycophants high.

 

[Darth Luminoth]

Objective I
Darth Maleva
LOOKING FOR OPPOSITION

"In truth, there is no sure way of holding other than by destroying.”

「NO STARS OVER BROSI」​

"Report," Luminoth ordered sharply. Of his many voices, taking the lead currently was the deep, rolling baritone of a male. "-And I want good news, Commander." His words reverberated as the pitch changed suddenly. "I trust you've been taking my advice?" Now his intonations changed to a vaguely masculine tenor, breathy and nasal, awkwardly making full stops every few words. "I would hate. To see that you're. Unable to overcome. Your predecessor's failures."

Commander Vaal's crimson eyes stared back at Luminoth's mask with an uncertain wideness to them. The Chiss tugged at her collar before speaking. "The New Imperials still hold the bridge, but we're slowly gaining ground. Casualties remain more than manageable in my contingent. Talks from the tower tell of plans to flank the bridge from the opposite side of the River District. I took the liberty of sending men to their endeavor, as well as reinforcing several diminished positions along the waterline."

"You what!?" The Pureblood General on Lumnioth's left exclaimed, exasperated. "Your orders were to pressure the bridge!"

"I'm aware General Thissis, but those positions were in danger of being overtaken. Losing four of them was four too many."

"You dare to undermine-!?"

The General's words stopped dead in their execution as Lumnioth raised an open hand. "It would appear, General Thissis, that you are making your grand vision for the conflict the priority, rather than much-needed pragmatism, costing us strength yet again." The Dark Sun's voice was distinctly Neimoidian in timbre and accent this time around. The General hemmed and hawed, sweat beginning to form a transparent sheen over his brow. The distinct crunch of vertebrae evoked winces and gaze aversions as the General's head was forcefully turned one-hundred eighty degrees by the closing of Lumnioth's hand.

Lifeless, Pureblood flesh met the grime and asphalt beneath the makeshift command-post that overlooked the bridge from an upper-level outdoor complex. "Congratulations on your promotion, General Vaal," Luminoth spoke in a playful, seductive female voice. "Your decisiveness is enviable, and it is clear you have made a great improvement to your methods. See to it that my high hopes for you continue to be reinforced."

"I- Ah- Y-yes, my Lord," the newly crowned General obliged.

A jet trooper ascended the side of the complex, clearing the safety barricade, and landed behind Luminoth, who did not bother to turn toward him. The trooper took silent note of the previous General's corpse and connected the dots quickly. "General Vaal." The trooper saluted. "I've come with a report to be kept off comms. An Imperial Knight contingent is pushing to retake the tower. Reinforcements are requested, Ma'am."

"I will reroute a platoon-"

"No," Luminoth interjected with the voice of a child. "You've done good work here," he declared, the impediment of early youth slurring his speech. "Focus on keeping it up. We will handle it."

The Dark Sun strode away from the overlook, moving around the portable holoterminal and coaxing a shudder from the new General as their shoulders nearly brushed against one another. Trekking through their outpost, he moved into a shopping until and opened the sliding door to what was once a managerial office, now used for Maleva's personal space when not at the helm of Command. She had been reclused there for longer than usual, but the reasons for such weren't Lumnioths present concern.

As the door came open, the Dark Sun's expressionless masked stared in. The voice of a dying old man carried the message: "There is need of us."

 

[Darth Maleva]

Objective I
Darth Luminoth
Looking for Opposition​

The Anzat's head snapped over at the interruption. Her nostrils flared as her proboscises began to recede, before they all but vanished into her cheeks. An unyielding golden gaze met the cloaked figure. Slowly, she released her grip on the collar of the acolyte who had been unlucky enough to fail the Sith Lord, and subsequently suffer the consequences. The body fell back against the wall with a thump. The terror had faded, leaving an unsatiated desire.

"Now one cannot even finish a meal without incompetence obtruding?" The annoyance in her voice was obvious. "At least I'll have leftovers, I suppose."

Darth Maleva rose from the crouch, turning to the desk. She picked up the datapad that laid on the surface, eyes scanning for any report, but all information was aged. She tossed the device aside, the gesture causing a clatter on the surface. Her feet began to carry her to the door as she spoke once more.

"Where? What happened?" She demanded. Her shoulder brushed against Luminoth's as she paused, golden orbs finding him once more. "Whatever it was, I do hope you took care of whoever was responsible."

 

[Hans Rennagen]

OBJ 1
Shoengen Delta Beachhead
Engaging: Zinn Zinn Bink'sa

The salty sea air whipped his face, turning it cold and red. The drum of machine gun fire across the beach was desperate. This beachhead was meant to stop the petty private armies of Conglomerate members, not Sith. Already the Sith were sweeping through the city, and losing this final bulwark on the beach might mean the over-running of New Imperial forces on the bridge.

He was holding his own on a blaster turret, and retreat was not yet an option. So far no Sith had climbed his fortification.

Yet, as the machine gun beat away, Hans could feel a twinge in the back of his mind, like something was wrong. The presence of the dark side. But it was close by, not down below to the fortifications like it was supposed to be, and he'd received no word that the enemy had broken their line.

The turret abruptly stopped. Hans stood up and readied his blaster rifle. He trained it at the door as he carefully closed the gap towards it. With utmost caution to keep quiet, he opened the door and peeked out.

"These imps in big doo doo this time."

A strange voice spoke from around the corner. Hans pushed himself out of door to face the intruder. His blaster leveled at the target's center of mass, he came face to face with a darkly-clad, sickly looking Gungan.

"Drop your weapon Sith, and we can end this quickly."

 

[Marcad]

KNIGHTS OF AVARICE
Darth Luminoth | Darth Maleva

​

They weren't so different, him and they. It was his fallen ilk, after all, that gave birth to that Dark Creed; the same one that afflicted unforgiving wounds and trauma to him when the Sith invaded Mirial. Of course, not all blame was placed upon the Sith as it was the Jedi that casted a Wall of Light upon his homeworld, effectively purging anyone and anything indiscriminately. Two Orders that he abhorred with a zealous frenzy. Although, at the end the tragedy that scarred Mirial would present an opportunity for the Dark Jedi. One's loyalty to themselves and their ambitions is what mattered the most. His people were naive and ignorant to remain loyal to their dogmatic views of the Jedi, agreeing upon belief that the Fate of the Cosmic Powers is what wrought mass genocide upon them. To an extent he still adhered to the values of his people, but ultimately he would carve his own fate and destiny. Something he would not let the almighty Force to dictate his future.

He was much annoyed when the perfidious Sith schemed and plotted to undermine the future plans the New Imperials devised between them and the Conglomerate of Brosi. Such goals that could benefit his machinations behind the curtain of the Iron Sun.

He wouldn't let them have the last laugh.

A unit of Stormtroopers, under his command, moved through the urban city with an objective to retake the Conglomerate's tower, operating independently from the others. The violet blade of his lightsaber deflecting blaster bolts from the coalition of mercenaries and Sith troopers. Exposing himself out in the open from the rest of his troops to distract the enemy's fire onto him. Every step he was getting closer and closer, sensing a great aura of corruption and evil that was far greater than his in the Dark Side of the Force. A hint of sulfur plagued his eyes with his nurtured hatred giving him a reserve of power; his was the fury.

If they felt his presence?

Good.

Have them beckon to him.

 

[Zinn Zinn Bink'sa]

Objective: 1
Location: Shoegen Beachhead
Opponents: Hans Rennagen


Emerging from the water, and onto the shore as if some vengeful sea monster. Zinn Zinn had his vibroblade at the ready, careful to step and avoid any blasterfire. The Gungan had never been in a battle, at least not as one as intense as this. His fear only led to the dark energies growing all around him. With every step he took, his fear slowly turned into hatred upon seeing Sith that had been shot on the water. He walked, blaster fire zipping on by him, one bolt nearly grazing one of his flappy ears..

Chaos and death were all around him, watching as to how many Sith kept trying to charge the fortification. As if through numbers and brute force alone could they hope to ambush them. They were nothing but cut down as if they were nothing more than paper to the big guns many of the imps were using. Zin Zinn only snarled at them, as if a beast had taken over the amphibious creature. Flashing his long tongue as if a mocking way towards the enemy. The cries and screams around him mingled with the blaster fire, even some Sith tried to use range tactics such as Telekinesis, but to no avail, it did not work.

Slowly, and yet with his pace quickening towards the fortifications. Some would point out that the Gungan must have been mad, mad enough to figure on how he himself would get through the fortifications. To be honest he didn't expect to get to the fortifications, at least not without a scar of sorts. Yet the angered and mad acolyte would only try if to appease the Lords that had commanded him for this mission.

Zinn Zinn soon locked eyes with a figure emerging from the entrance of the fortifications. Specifically staring him down. Asking him to surrender. To drop the vibroblade within his hands. Staring upon the man with the big gun, his instincts spoke to him. Telling him that this man is dangerous, yet how would he combat the Imp he didn't know. All he had was anger at the moment driving his every action.

"Yousa thinks you so better, so smarty all cuzing yousa got the big bang bang flasher!! Yousa fuckings dead!!"

The Gungan cried out, using the darkness to increase his speed, he comes at him with a war cry attempting to swing the vibroblade across his chest.

 

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Armor: X | Lightsaber: X | Right Arm: X
Objective 1: Knights of Avarice
RP Opponents: Rurik Fel | Bastard
RP Allies: Darth Voyance
Other Enemies: Kainan | Mazus Strain
Other Allies: Darth Setheus | Vora Kaar | Jacen Novastar | Ihsan | Ashin Cardé Varanin | Apkari | Darth Immortuos | Kuric Taumin | Romund Sro | Alina Tremiru
Theme: One Who Craves Souls
Post Title: Reunion of Bones and Burns

​

He had landed on the landscape with rapidity from his personal shuttle in the middle of the mercenary ranks far from the bridge, his warning sent to the Knights, the leader of whom responded with equal confidence and certainty.

Rurik Fel, the one who survived the Twilight and continued to fight for another day, and another, and countless more. It was incredible, really, that the story of this man was still being written in this way, pushing him as some unkillable hero for Imperialistic ideals and balance of the Force. Although, the Devil had difficulty knowing if such balance was truly upheld out of faith or simple practical necessity. His encounters with the order had never given a clear answer, and he was not certain that this new encounter with the Knights would not enlighten him on the truth of the matter.

If there was even any truth to be found.

Regardless, the Devil marched through the mercenaries and Sith with utmost intent and even some glee in his heart, ice eyes locked on the distant chaos where combat raged like an unsettled ocean. Great leviathans twisting and writing as their fangs sunk into necks and ripped scales from the body in a violent catastrophe. Such a catastrophe. A duel of wills. A contest of faiths. And through the dark windows of the Force, the Devil saw the Imperial Knights fight with their iron determinations - Voyance, and several other Sith Knights, among them. Clashing ideologies, talents, desires for victory. A battle that had been building since the Warlords came into existence in the Tingel Arm, launching forth from Tash-Taral in a grand campaign of dark vengeance and conquest. What fables they would tell of these wars. Multiple faces in the crowds, all unique and set to their cause, including the Errant Knight of days past. Healed, rested, but clearly preoccupied with the Dark Saint. An intriguing prospect to be sure, but not this day. No, the narrative of this day involved the Lord Executor, who Kascalion promptly located as he weaved his way to the outskirts of the bridge.

There were no words spent upon the final sighting of his foe, no grand speeches. No more warnings. No more monologues. No more assertions of his power that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, was unstoppable. No more illustrations of the battle. Only the battle itself. Kascalion ignited his blade - a crimson broadsaber - and adopted the opening defensive stance of Soresu, which was perhaps a strange contrast between such an elegant form and such a brutal combatant. Regardless, even while his face was static in his dark grin, it spoke of a single challenge: "Come then, Executor."

 

[Darth Luminoth]

Objective I
Darth Maleva | Marcad

"In truth, there is no sure way of holding other than by destroying.”

「NO STARS OVER BROSI」​

Luminoth's masked visage slowly trailed the Acolyte as they were discarded like trash. The expressionless veil slowly crept back up to Maleva as she approached with austere dissatisfaction. Leftovers, she called the now vegetative, if not entirely dead Acolyte. It was as if the weight of siphoning the very being of someone from their skull meant nothing to her.

But of course, it didn't, and why should it? What was a youthful, inexperienced Acolyte to an ageless Fatale, powerful beyond tangible measure? Or even, to him for that matter, the very progeny of the foretold betrayer? Acolytes weren't fit to lick their boots, let alone breathe their air. Lumnioth's old master, Avernus may have used this moment to prattle a lecture about the next generation, and the true meaning of Sith Eternalism. Hubris ensured it was that very next generation that introduced him to the nether.

The Acolyte twitched, eyelids fluttering into a spasm over milky, rolled back optics. A gurgle bubbled up somewhere in the pseudo-corpse's throat, phlegm clattering in a final grasp at life. Leftovers. If Luminoth was even the subtlest shade of squeamish, he might have shuddered.

"Whatever it was, I do hope you took care of whoever was responsible."​

Luminoth's regard returned slowly to Maleva's magnificence, unhindered by the grotesque implications of her long, encephalic feasting. "Our beloved Commander Vaal has just been promoted to General," he informed in a run-of-the-mill Coruscanti voice; information that was likely to enlighten her as to his 'taking care of things'. "Though, I cannot be certain how much at fault Thissis truly was for the Imperial Knight's siege on the tower. Regardless, I believe the message was loud and clear to General Vaal not to repeat her predecessor's habit of self-serving gambles with our men."

An incomprehensible resonance of voices echoed behind the mask, an indecipherable number of voicing trying to speak at all once. A voice broke through to the front, one that was distinctly Luminoth's own. "Silence!" he cried, looking down to himself with a sharp jerk as he exclaimed. After a brief moment of statuesque silence, the Dark Sun cleared his throat, slowly looking back up to Maleva, and continued, momentarily in his own voice: "Our new General intended to divert men to reinforce the tower, but I ordered her to stay the path. You and I will go-" The voice was suddenly a woman's. A middle-aged, Corellian drawl. Coarse, like she'd spent too many years doing death sticks. "I sense an obstacle that would only be counterproductive to throw men at."

A lispy, sniveling timbre, belonging to the snakiest, scummiest old man one could imagine ended with: "This one requires our touch."

A shuttle had already been prepped, Vaal's quick thinking when he suddenly left the command center. Within minutes, the pair had boarded and taken off toward the tower.

 

[Hideki Satou]

Obj 2
​

Flying battlecruisers in low orbit wasn't unheard of, but it was extremely dangerous. Numerous things could go wrong from unexpected turbulence to shield malfunctions. It was why so many larger vessels typically flew without shields in atmosphere and why some larger ships couldn't even activate their shields this low to the ground.

The Masamune loomed over the port of Sheongen Delta, his droid starfighters screaming towards the waiting maritime vessels. Imagine...Using such primitive craft to ferry your personnel. The Galactic Alliance would never use such crude ships. Hideki allowed himself a moment to reminisce before turning to his primary deck officer.

"What is the status of the mission below?"

"All goes according to plan. They have yet to mount a meaningful air defense." Hideki nodded and leaned on his fist, his elbow secured snuggly against the armrest of his command chair. "We have received orders though," she stammered, "From the Saint." Hideki's brow rose. He was to watch that one, the Maou's 'Master'.

"What does the Saint wish of the Masamune?"

---
​

A new target. The data streamed directly into the droid brain of the Sith droid starfighter. It sent back a digital acknowledgment over the network and received one back in return. It screamed forward, its engines set to full power as it prepared for a missile lock. The vessels below were vulnerable. Nowhere to fly, nowhere to go really but down beneath the waves. Its brethren flew up beside it, they too locking missiles.

"Fire."

 

[Darth Maleva]

Objective I
Darth Luminoth | Marcad ​

The shuttle jolted as it touched down behind the tower. Anticipation sent the smallest of shivers down Maleva's spine. She could feel the aura of those making their way through the city. Their will was iron; it only made the coming moments more enticing. Somewhere in the not-so-distant streets, she sensed the undying flame of a great hatred. The anzati rose from the seat, a cruel smile dancing across her lips.

"Let's show these New Imperials the fury of a true Sith." Maleva asserted seductively.

The fever suspense only grew stronger as she stepped off the ship. Blaster bolts echoed somewhere in the vicinity. The smell of smoke tainted the air. The force bent to her will as the lord called on it, cloaking her presence- a skill she had used time and time again through the centuries. Light footsteps made no sound as she took the lead. Instinct guided her path to the enemy; a huntress drawing ever close to her prey.