League's End - TSE Dominion of Munto Codru

[Taeli Raaf]

[SIZE=11pt]Munto Codru[/SIZE]​

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[SIZE=11pt]A planet that had kept itself aloof from the rest of the galaxy. While it had fallen within the domains of the old Sith Empire, the Republic, and the Silver Jedi, the native Codru-Ji had largely been left to their own devices.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It had made the planet the perfect last refuge for the League of Voss, an organization that had once thought it could hold back the tide of darkness that was the Sith Empire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Their fleet and ground forces had been decimated in numerous campaign, none more so painful than the fall of Voss and the recent fall of Mon Calamari. Their leadership was gone… Jedi Master Kokkim had fallen on Voss, Admiral Oottall was lost over Ciutric IV, General Lodelon had disappeared into the vastness of the Sith Empire, executed, and Nomdi Lumohd had just died on Mon Calamari.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]What was left had scattered, many survivors hanging up their weapons and hoping to escape the notice of the Sith Empire. Others had gone on to the Core, thinking if the fight had been lost in the Outer Rim, they needed to strengthen the Core for another attempt. Only a small core group of diehards remained, centered around Jedi Knight Norga Kokkim, the son of the deceased Jedi Master.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Jedi Knight had rallied several Codru-Ji tribes to their banner and established his headquarters in one of the ancient castles on the world. This new alliance has upset other tribes in the complex game of Codru-Ji tribal politics.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A deal had been struck. The lives of the Codru-Ji that were sheltering the remaining members of the League of Voss were now forfeit, soon to be claimed by the Sith Empire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]OOC: This dominion is not going to have objectives per se, but will be more of a sandbox experience. Targets to assassinate, enemy tribes and forces to slaughter or enslave, other tribes that want to negotiate further with the Sith Empire, explore the castles on the planet, and so on. Do what you feel fits you best![/SIZE]

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Landing near the last bastion of the League of Voss​

Munto Codru​

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A shuttle appeared in the skies of Munto Codru. It was one of the many that had chosen the planet as their destination, for it was the latest target for the unending expansion of the Sith Empire's borders. This one housed no soldiers nor diplomats, but those deeply connected with the Force were able to sense who they were before they had even landed. A collective of Sith, sent down to wipe out what was left of the League of Voss. The agents of rebellion had been utterly defeated yet still some remained, something that simply could not be allowed. On this day, it would be corrected.

While some eagerly awaited the moment they could join the offense on the ancient castle that housed the enemies of the Empire, causing ripples of darkness the Force, the one who stood above them all calmly prepared herself in a seperate chamber. It was Darth Avacyn, who had been bestowed with the title of triumvir of strength and as part of her first act she would be in command of the Sith warriors tasked to bring an end to the League.

Avacyn sat in meditation in the middle of the chamber, her left hand clutching a rune. In the aura she carried with her a storm brewed but it was contained like it was trapped in a bottle, carefully conserved for when the time was right. Within the chamber was utter silence until the Sith lady's voice pierced through it, the words spoken being in the ancient Sith language.

"Zo dvasia maskuoti nu sekleti aveti."

The rune the woman held in her hand reacted and began to faintly glow before the chant's effect took hold. Her appearance shifted as her skin turned a pale white, her red locks became spectral and the Dark side's corruption in her eyes turned a luminescent red; although no more than an illusion, those who would lay their eyes upon her saw not a living being, but a spirit. A sight that would strike fear in the hearts of those who opposed the Empire, as they would learn that the rumor of a ghostly being roaming the Sith's battlefields were no mere mad ravings.

The shuttle began its landing sequence to touch down near the castle that would be the final resting place of those who still tried to carry on the doomed mission of the League of Voss and with her preparations complete, Darth Avacyn rose to her feet and exited her personal chamber to stand among the others, her presence drawing the attention towards her. Although she did not raise her voice, the moment she spoke, her words altered to sound as though it was spoken by a ghostly being, it overshadowed all sound.

"The lives of all who stand with the League of Voss are forfeit. Do not hesitate, show no mercy- those who seek to destroy us must be cut down. For the brotherhood, and the empire."

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[Darth Prazutis]

In the distant past...

Battle raged all through the destruction ridden temple as bodies littered the halls and fire engulfed the lower levels. In the council chamber is where the Shadow Hand stood after a long battle with the Jedi Master Kokkim, Leader of the League of Voss. Cuts and bruises covered the body of the Jedi Master covered in torn robes, while black blood oozed from wounds traded on the body of the Sith Lord who stood tall over the weary Jedi Master. Kokkim knelt before him the fight finished, his lightsaber crushed in front of him "You cannot kill all of us Zambrano, your day will come. All Sith die. It may not be today, or tomorrow, but one day you and all of your foul line will fade away and the galaxy will celebrate your passing. My only regret is that I won't live to see that day come." The man said spitting blood on the ground. The Sith Lord leaned down close and flashed a murderous grin "The light of the cosmos will die before the Zambrano name fades away. I intend to live forever Kokkim. As for you...you will not become one with the force, you will not achieve everlasting peace. Your soul is mine." The Lord of Lies drove his runeblade Daesumnor through the Jedi Master's chest, his eyes flaring wide. The very soul of Kokkim was wrenched out of his body as his life faded away, and it was sent screaming inside with all of the other victims.

Present Day...

It had felt like ages since the League of Voss had struck out for the first time against the Sith, ages since his old flagship the Hammer of Bastion obliterated Admiral Oottall, and since his execution of Jedi Master Kokkim on Voss. The league had been shattered its once great power sent scattered to the wind. The Sith Emperor had desired nothing less than the complete annihilation of the league, and he promised his nephew that he would deliver him that. The death of the Jedi had shattered their resolve and the loss of Lumohd on Mon Cala was the last nail in their coffin. But a core still remained around Jedi Knight Norga Kokkim intelligence reports said, the son of the man he executed. It was perfect. The young man's emotional turmoil would be prevalent, he would be able to capitalize on it and send the son screaming right into the blade alongside his tormented father.

The hulking mass of the Goliath emerged from hyperspace and not long after the Midnight left the hangar. A channel request would find its way on the open air to the Jedi Knight, if he accepted the face of the Destroyer, the Shadow Hand would appear on the other end, a blade across his lap "Norga Kokkim. How brave you are to stand defiantly even as your order crumbles around you, just like your father." A grin formed on his face "I gutted the brave fool with this blade and took his soul. Take heart in the knowledge that I would always come for you, that you were always destined to fall by my sword, and that you will join your father in eternal torment boy."

[member="Taeli Raaf"] ​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Munto Codru

The scent of the freshly brewed tea and the faint scent of burned out incense lingered in her nostrils as she tugged down the ragged scarf wrapped in layers around her body. Eyes, pale as glass, milky white like the surface of ice planets a galaxy far.

"Thank you, child"

Her rasped voice cut through the distance between her and the young woman who handed her the tea. She smelled it, absorbing the fumes with her pale skin, then drank sparingly, as if wishing to savour every drop.

"The League will do what they can to make you comfortable, all of you." "We will shelter you from this war for as long as we can." "And when you cannot?" She looked pointedly at the lightsabre on the woman's hip. "Then we will ensure that they cannot harm you." "The children-" "It is better to die free than to become the thrall of a dark overlord. Now drink, rest, and think no more of it." "You are a paragon of your kind." She drank again from the cracked cup

She stared back down into the liquid, a look of resignation on her face. The faintest smile lingered on the inside as her forked tongue played against the back of her teeth and the cup turned thrice left between her fingers. She watched the young woman's back in the reflection of the liquid, bobbing up and down as she passed down food, blankets, words of encouragement, and confirmation of their final destination ahead.

This pale woman had fled with them for weeks, watching, seeding, portraying herself as old and frail.

A serpent coiled in the sand.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

While others waged war upon the remnants of the League and others deceived the hospitality of their hosts, another darkness began to pervade the world in the form of the Sith Emperor Darth Carnifex. He had left the annihilation of his enemies up to the discretion of his righteous Shadow Hand, preferring to take a backseat to the campaign for once. Instead, he journeyed to a remote mountainous region of Munto Codru that had been left untouched by the fleeing League or the Sith hot on their heels from Mon Cala.

There existed a clan, isolated from most others, that retained many of the more ancient and draconian traditions of the Codru-Ji culture that had eventually been cast off by the other tribes. Sentimental to his own family's proclivity to living in mountainous homes, the Emperor saw potential in this single clan to help usher in Imperial rule to the rest of the world beyond military action and domination.

So he approached the village on foot, alone and armed only with the Dark Side of the Force.

He choked the guards who attempted to detain him, wringing the life from their necks with an effortless twist of his hand. The Emperor strode into the center of the village, his baleful eyes glaring at the small assembly of natives who came out to bear witness to this powerful outsider.

"Bring me your chieftain, I would speak with him."

 

[Eyros]

This world was one of stark beauty. Great valleys and lonely mesa’s tipped in lush greenery that seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see, between these lay deep almost bottomless pits, scars in the world that criss-crossed here and there between the haven’s that the cliff-tops offered. Like something out of a travel-holo the world zipped passed, the small single man fighter straight lining across the vista allowing on of the best views you could get anywhere this side of the galaxy.

Beneath the ship one particular mesa came into focus, cultured greenery that had been moulded by the hands of a living being rather then the chaotic flows of nature. Three small structures took up one of the sides, backed by a sheer cliff that allowed no glimpse of the formations ground base. So narrow was the top that there would be no hiding the landing of the ship, so it was settled down at the centre of the small settlement kicking up dirt and dust as it powered down.

The man who removed himself from the fighter took several steps away from the ship and slowly turned his helmeted head to take in the settlement from the ground level. Immediate signs of recent activity came to his attention as well as a dormant speeder nearby, clearly used for getting too and from this clearly un-reachable point.

A purposeful walk took him within the larger of the three structures, which seemed to house the living quarters. Lights were on, and something was boiling in a black pot that was sat on a burner. Even through his helmet he could smell the spices that had been mixed with the contents of that pot, reminding him how long ago he’d last eaten.

Scouting through the building nobody else made themselves known which meant they would soon return. Sitting down in a chair at the side of the room gave him a singular option;

Wait.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Forbidden Castle​

[ Darth Lolcat Theme ]​

What was this fluffy nonsense?

Apparently, the culture of the Cordu-Ji involved the ritualized practice of leveraging kidnapping as a form of political action. So, in either anticipation or response to [member="Darth Carnifex"] bringing the Sith Imperial forces to bear on the world of Munto Cordu, powerful families from this backwater part of the Overic Griplink had managed to sneak onto Bastion in order to retrieve one of the younglings from the Royal Academy.

Which didn't answer the question of how a bunch of four-armed barbarians whose level of technology was barely above stone knives and bear skins had managed such a feat. Nor the question of how they had managed to get off Bastion with a Sith youngling, let alone how they'd managed to nab a lightsaber-wielding grade schooler without so much as losing a finger in the first place.

Seriously, two paragraphs in and there were already more holes in this poorly-conceived plot than there were in [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] 's stinky swiss cheese.

Now that wasn't a fourth wall break, that was just lazy writing.

In any case, the young Cathar was being kept in a kennel. No, that wasn't a metaphor. Fun fact: Cordu-Ji didn't have younglings. Well, they did (those are kind of a biological necessity), except that juvenile Cordu-Ji were not humanoids. They were wyrwulves. And not entirely sapient wyrwulves at that.

Which, how did that even work socially? Was basic math, norms of behavior, and literacy all part of some kind of genetic memory? Or did they have to wait until they emerged from their cocoons as adults before they could start to go to school, get educated, and become functional members of society?

That philosophical bit of overthinking Star Wars concepts of exo-planetary anthropology notwithstanding, it was safe to say that no Cordu-Ji knew what to do with a Cathar kitten, which was an entirely different sort of animal.

For his part, Micah had no idea just how he felt about being used as political currency. He supposed that might make an interesting topic for an otherwise uninteresting social studies research project, which he would almost certainly have to complete as a result of the Sith claiming Munto Cordu as part of the Empire.

What he did know was how he felt about wyrwulves.

And this was some fluffy nonsense.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

MUNTO CODRU
IN ORBIT

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The sound of polished wood upon smooth metal echoed with every other step. It was the only thing to break the quiet of his bridge. Blue intertwined with an endless black cascaded over his vision. It was frivolous, but he wanted to watch as they entered realspace and Munto Codru appeared on the horizon. When the beige orb finally revealed itself, it hardly seemed worth the effort. Bleak. Dull. Any sight of the Imperial Armada was hardly enough spectacle to sustain his interest. Not even after all this time. That same clacking sound once more broke the dead air as the Togruta turned back. He needed to rest. No orders were given. His desires had been made clear previously.

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Dropships poured out of the dreadnoughtThe Cataphract, one of Pyrrhus' flagships. An escort of starfighters would take them safely down to the surface. A fire burned within Kregan Fash. He stoked it while they descended, a ritual that was becoming common to him. He had been bestowed leadership of this operation, and he had every intention to deliver and then some.

They were heading towards a particularly numerous grouping of lifeforms. It was a coalition consisting of some of those tribes that had sheltered what remained of the League of Voss, and the allies and vassals of those tribes. The planet itself might have seemed entirely uninteresting to Darth Pyrrhus. But the Codru-Ji? He simply had to have them in his collection.

 

[Eyros]

Vasig, a tall and structured humanoid native to this planet had watched the ship come and land on his little oasis that kept him hidden from the galaxy. At first curiosity had been the call of his emotions, but now it had settled into more or less acceptance that the ship that arrived was here for the sole purpose of making sure his day wasn’t going to go the way he had thought it was when he had first woken up in the morning. He had been sat at the desk of his workshop, which was housed in the third structure, the other being the garage and storage units. His four hands, a trait of the local species having been busy working on the small device that had been his project for the last few days. The question in his mind as he settled it down was, would it have ever worked had he the chance to finish it.

Standing from his desk Vasig went through the motions, slowly removed his gloves and placed them neatly on the desk, his apron, a heavy brown leather piece was slid onto the hook on the nearby wall and the dark goggles that had covered his eyes were also laid down neatly and in their place. He would then exit the workshop and walk across the mesa, taking a deep breath before opening the door of the living unit knowing what waited within.

———

The arrival stopped his blank stare at the floor as the sound of the door’s metal scrapping filled the unit. He wouldn’t stand, not yet, he did make sure his posture remained as relaxed as possible however, no need to push events faster then they needed to be. The visor of his helmet went into information mode as Vasig entered the kitchen area, pulling up information resource and showing pressure points in his genetic lines, all information that was of no real concern.
Vasig, seemingly ignoring the other in the room moved to the units by the far wall and turned on the hydro-taps. He allowed his hands to be thoroughly cleaned before stopping, taking a deep breath and leaning against the unit, water still running.

“Why now?” He asked, a defeated tone sticking to his words like an unwanted glue. “Six years I’ve been here, and there hasn’t been any form of information or contact. The you suddenly arrive out of the blue.” He turned, faced the stranger and leant himself against the kitchen unit. “The Clanless Mercenary.”

“The Sith Empire doesn’t like it when one of their own starts supporting rebellions and Jedi exiles.” From out of his holster the mercenary pulled his blaster, an older-worn model that had seen as much use as the beatings on his armour plates and placed it softly on the table next to him his own eyes, hidden by the vizor of his helmet carefully measuring the glance from Vasig towards the rested weapon.

“I’m not one of theirs. I never was.” The Codru-Ji added quietly. “I served the Sith yes, but not this Empire. Not their pathetic excuse of collective power.” He had gone slightly tense, but there was no need to act just yet. “I suppose they sent you to take me in?”

“Is that an option?” There was genuine question behind that. “Only it’s early in the day and if it is…” He gave a shrug before finishing. “I’d much rather a simple pick up job.” There was brief moment of silence between the two, Vasig clearly going over his options, none of which were going to make the situation better.

“We both know that isn’t an option.” He finally said, defeated in his own mind. “Before we begin, at least let me have a drink?” The mercenary waved his hand in agreeance towards the cabinet where a glass decanter of some crimson liquid had been rested. The Condru-Ji poured with his bottom set of hands, the other running through his hair, wiping the sweat that was gathering on his head. He finally took a deep and long drink from a glass and winced as the alcohol hit his throat and chest. “Damn those Corellian’s know how to make good whiskey. So we did they send you, not one of their dogs?” He put the glass down, noting as the Mercenary rose from his own chair.

“I guess I’m the last thing you’d expect.” He answered. “Means you could have a little chat before…well…”

 

[Kuzo]

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There were standing instructions, from the very beginning of [member="Darth Carnifex"]'s empire, that Doctor Vain Jar'He wanted samples. What samples? Any samples. Anything not already on the list of 'things people had already brought to the weird beaked thing'. Of course she wasn't the only one. Technically, until a planet was part of the Empire, it's citizens were unprotected. It was a perfect little loop hole for people like [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Adrian Vandiir"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"].... anyone really who wanted subjects for one reason or another for their work. Even with the number of people looking to get their hands on samples at any particular time, there was never a shortage.

Irajah Ven, however, was not actually much interested in Cordu-Ji samples. Oh, she'd do something with them of course, and under other circumstances she would have been very interested in studying them. They were, after all, fairly unique amoung sentient species in the galaxy.

No, she was rather distracted by something else.

"Flying. Fething. Monkeys."

It was one of the little tidbits from Vain's memories that had not come through in the initial sweep. One couldn't absorb and process the entire breadth of a person's memories in one try, after all.

Signature wrapped up in the Force, it was not difficult to mimic the good doctor's. After all, they were the same at the basest of levels. It helped that Vain had never done any serious study of the Force... the same mistake Irajah had made, in fact, early on. But here and now, that was entirely secondary to the diminutive woman as she grinned in delight behind that mask as she watched the Screechers swoop around the observatory of the ship enroute to Munto Codru.

Once she was aware of their existence, it was easy to root around in the memories and discover they had been created by Raaf.

"These are so karking great," Irajah muttered to herself, voice buzzing low through the mask. . Fortunately she was alone because it was a comment entirely out of character for Doctor Vain. Would it be too out of character to send a thank you gift?

Probably.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

As it turned out Doctor Vain was not alone.

In fact.

Far from it, the room was positively occupied by someone already. But it was occupied in the same way a landscape would be by a mountain range. It was there. But it was... there. In the background. Present by its loomness, yes, but also quickly forgotten if you weren't paying attention. As it stood something shifted in the background. Suddenly what first seemed like a wall? Turned out to be anything but. Eyes opened, shut, opened and then Vulgrim Blackwell blinked.

Why?

Because on his head there were about three flying monkeys.

Perched.

Nomming on something while chittering to one another. "Excuse me." It would not have been strange to assume Vulgrim was talking to the smol beak being in the middle of the observatory. "Excuse me, hello? You up there, would you mind to vacate my head? I wish to initiate conversation with the Good Doctor." They ignored him. Kept on chittering and laughing (did monkeys laugh?) to one another. Vulgrim let out a sound. It was heavy, rumbling and even steam escaped the holes where a nose could possible be.

That did do the trick.

They suddenly flew up in a fright and escaped his immediate presence.

"Oh, dear, I think I frightened them." Eyes turned big as they tracked their trajectory. "Oh, well. Hello! My name is Vulgrim Blackwell. How do you do?" He rose. The idea would be to offer a bow a moment later. But Vulgrim sort of forgot that the ceiling was relatively near to the ground.

Instead of grace?

Irajah got one surprised demon when he thwapped himself against the ceiling. "Ow."

 

[Kuzo]

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It was fairly simple. One could be thoroughly cloaked in the Force or actively utilizing it. Any active use of the Force put a weak link in the cloak, a ripple if you will. The more it was done, the more likely someone was to see through the deception. While Irajah Ven was working within the Empire as her clone, she was keeping a very tight reign on casual Force use. It was already a habit, as another alter ego, Doctor Calais on Coruscant, was also not a Force user. In that persona she was far less likely to run across forcers paying attention to her, so it was less critical. Here?

She had to be very, very careful.

The combination of that and the natural landscape quality of [member="Vulgrim Blackwell"] meant that it wasn't until he moved that she saw him. It was like one of those hidden picture puzzles. One moment it was just the observatory and the monkeys. The next moment....

Behind the mask, Irajah blinked in surprise.

As he unfolded himself she realized just how very, very tall this one was.

"Well you just keep going don't you?"

Beaked face tilted all the way back. She was used to being the shortest one in the room most of the time. But he was even taller than usual.

It was clear that he didn't already know her. She shifted through Vain's memories and came up blank. Which meant there was more leeway here. Not too much, but a little. No history to have to slot into.

"Vulgrim Blackwell?"

Irajah appreciated the polite, soft spoken nature here. It reminder her a little of [member="Samson"] . It also meant it was a little harder to be out right rude. Hmmm. Perhaps there were times when something a bit more balanced could be managed.

"What were you doing here, covered in monkeys?" The beaked mask tilted.

Not rude, not curious, the tone, though Irajah was the later.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Forbidden Castle​

[ Darth Lolcat Theme (Catnip Remix) ]​

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The young Cathar's patience with this ridiculousness had run out even before the wyrwulves had started barking.

Dried blood still clung to the ends of the boy's clawed fingers, where one of the adult Cordu-Ji had made the mistake of coming into arms reach of the kitten. They'd tried offering him food, but Micah was not about to be relegated to the role of some pet just because this species had to send their kids to obedience school.

And, speaking of the kids, the wyrwulves were still yapping.

Seriously, people, would someone just take them for a walk already!? They'd been yapping like that for at least the last fifteen minutes. Though, in all honesty, Micah didn't intend to be stuck in this kennel any longer to find out whether Lassie was going to get taken for a walk today or not.

As they said in the language of the Sith, it was time to splits the shizz-ouse.

The boy's arms came up in wide circles and sweeping gestures. A chill seemed the permeate the room, a foreboding sense quieting the barking of the dogs into the cowering of repeated whimpers as the Dark Side of the Force began to swirl around the form of the kitten.

Planting his feet firmly, the boy set his stance as he squared off toward the kennel door. His legs moved until they had pivoted his body sideways in a loose t-stance. He brought left arm over and across to where his right hand was braced against his hip. Palms together, the boy began channeling the ancient spell of Sutta Chwituskak in the language of the Massassi warriors of auld. "Ka..."

Pulling his hands apart, the child felt the Dark Side flowing through him "...me..." the boy uttered, as a spark was starting to take shape between the palms of his hands. All of his anger. All of his frustration. All of his hate was cast into the palm of his hand. "...ha..."

The spark of hatred blossomed, the ember glowing hot as an orb-like energy began to radiate with an otherworldly intensity. Leaning further back on his back leg, the boy braced himself for bringing the spell to its ultimate, destructive conclusion.

Which was when a ball was tossed.

"...me--eow!"

The golden energies evaporated back into the Force, as the youngling skittishly shied back from the jingling, bouncing orb that had been flung into the kennel. As it came rolling near his feet, the youngling stooped down to paw at the ball. As he batted at it, a jingling sound could be heard.

...and, something else?

There was an odor. Something he couldn't place.

But it was interesting.

Dropping onto all fours, the boy felt his anxieties and concerns lifted away. There was only the ball. Swatting at the ball, soon the Cathar was pouncing and playing at chasing the ball as a dog might chase its tail.

Then he dropped onto his side. Playing with the ball between his hands, the young Cathar felt as though his body were becoming heavy. The boy heard the door to the kennel open, but he paid it no mind.

There was the ball.

There was only the ball.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

In no time at all the chieftain of the tribe emerged from the hut at the center of the village, his four-armed body dressed with carved bones and tanned leather with two ceremonial swords hanging from his hip. A man presumed to be his son stood to his right, and a woman presumed to be his daughter stood to his left. All three of them walked down the inclined slope to the village square, accumulating a mass of onlookers as they came to a stop in front of the gargantuan Sith Emperor.

"So, you are the Emperor that the soft men from the stars have been weeping about." The chieftain's eyes looked the Sith Lord up and down before letting out a mocking chortle, "You look like your bark is bigger than your bite, outsider." His son laughed in unison with his father, but the daughter looked more curious than apprehensive at the towering pinnacle of darkness. "Now, I have come as you have so brazenly requested, what do you want?"

Now it was the Emperor's turn to smile, a cruel sneer that split apart his lips to reveal well-kept teeth. "The Empire will take this world and the traditional order of your land will be cast aside for the other tribe's willingness to entertain traitors. I can spare your people the retribution that will fall upon the other tribes if you but submit yourself to me and show deference to the Empire's authority."

That was received with a boisterous laugh not only from the chief and his son but from the majority of the tribesmen around the Emperor. "How about I cut your head from your shoulders and send it back to your Empire to remind them that the Codru-Ji will never bow to the whims of a foreign tyrant." The chief unsheathed both of his swords, prompting many others around him to brandish their own weapons against the Sith Emperor.

Carnifex only laughed, "If that is your destiny, then who am I to deny you?"

Tensions began to rise.​

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

After rubbing gently against his horns (the gently being a most relative term, considering the sound his claws made while scrapping against it? Was less than pleasant.) It only served to alarm the poor monkeys even more, paving way as much as possible, before flittering down in the corner of the observatory. Vulgrim noticed this. It would almost be possible to describe his gaze as saddened. But. The Maelibus managed to rally himself once more when Irajah repeated his name.

"Vulgrim Blackwell, indeed! At your service." He bowed deeply and respectfully.

That size discrepancy did mean that during the bow?

His horns almost reached Irajah. Somewhat. Observing them this close, she'd note that they were exceptionally groomed. With care. The same could be said about the rest of his outfit. A very respectful and dapper tuxedo in an old-fashioned, but tasteful cut.

He was clearly proud of it. Just the way his hands (claws) brushed carefully against the textile.

The caution in that brush showed the care.

"Oh!" Vulgrim coughed at that question. A bit sheepish, if they were being honest. "I enjoy the sight of hyperspace. Whenever I am on a starship, I aim to be present at its observatory or a viewport. The mesmerizing streaks are quite soothing, don't you think?" In fact, most sentients found Hyperspace deeply disturbing. It wasn't a strange occurrence for veteran spacers to begin losing their mind, because of it. Something about it just dragged sentients in.

Keeping parts of them even after the journey was done.

"I think the monkeys enjoyed the warmth." Once Vulgrim stepped closer she'd feel it. The heat rolling off of him in steady waves... like a heartbeat.

"How are you, Doctor Vain? I have heard a lot about you. For what it is worth, I am sure the stories are overblown, you shouldn't let them get you down! I sure don't." A smile appeared right after. Toothy. Incisors as thick as three thumbs and twice as long.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

MUNTO CODRU
FACING THE CODRU-JI COALITION

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The dropships hovered above the ground, kicking up sand all around it. Boots landed thick in the freshly exposed surface, while Kregan and his troops disembarked. After they had unloaded their passengers, the ships took to the air again. Accompanied by their fighter escort, they would serve the function as gunships, battling for air superiority and controlling the field.

Kregan and his companions adjusted their weapons to their non-lethal setting. It was a courtesy that would not be returned by their opposition. Overcoming challenge was nothing new for Kregan, however, and his master would expect no less. Today was certainly the wrong day to fail him. They were a mix of Pyrrhus' Legion and KSC Slavers, along with some slaves as well. The latter were little more than cannon fodder. Spend money to get money, right? These slaves had been earmarked as expendable. Not a good deal for them.

On the opposite flank from him, Kregan could sense Kistra Vulen. Her power would come in handy here, although she had a tendency to make more corpses than she did slaves. Still, a force able to tip the balance further into their favour, and thus a worthy investment. He was in charge, however, and he would have that be abundantly clear.

Rifles pointing forwards, the band made their approach. There was still some distance to cover. First strike would be made by their forces in the air, and then when panic spread and scattered them, Kregan would strike. In the scenes behind the vile Zabrak, bigger transport ships made their way down. Unarmed, they would not come into play during the fight. These floating cages were for later.

[member="Thyne"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Forbidden Castle​

[ Darth Lolcat Theme (Catnip Crash remix) ]​

The youngling awoke to something licking his face.

In a daze, the boy's eyes flickered open. He was semi-conscious of being somewhere, though it was as if his mind couldn't quite make that last step to wakefulness. Sleep paralysis held his body in check, as the boy's eyes peered outward in a total miasma of confusion as his head listed lazily. It would roll to one side, his eyes closed, only for the repeated licking to cause him to raise his head up again.

Ambulatory movement was starting to return, as more and more of his senses began to rouse him from out of the neigh-comatose state. Stretching out with his arms and legs, the boy arched his back and tail as he gave a large yawn.

He displaced a large pile of wyrwulf pups as he stretched.

Apparently, he'd been used as a dog bed. There was this one overly friendly pup that kept licking at his face, while a second wyrwulf was playfully gnawing on the boy's right ear. Rearing up, the youngling pulled himself so that he was standing on his knees -- then collapsed down into a w-sit position.

As he did, he noticed a jiggling sound.

Reaching up a hand, the boy realized that he was wearing a bell.

Yellow eyes blinked, as the youngling's hand fell upon an object around his neck. Which included a bell. It was a pet collar. He was wearing a pet collar. With a bell on it.

He would stand up against this indignation, except the boy really didn't feel like standing up right now. Also, he was having a hard time mustering the whole indignation thing. He was actually feeling... really relaxed.

Really relaxed and hungry.

He should really be bringing the Dark Side and blasting this place to hell and back... but he was actually okay with the wyrwulf in his lap and the other that had abandoned its assault on his ear and was now pouncing on the boy's tail.

After someone brought food, he was totally going to Dark Side this place.

But after food.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As she drank her tea and rested under the itchy blanket, Ophidia listened.

Quick footsteps hurried past her as a ranger met with the young Jedi. Human, older and haggard-looking, with one eye. They looked from side to side and leaned in close. Words were whispered, inaudible to most, though their body language was dripping with a certain fear. Ophidia closed her eyes and listened, tuning out the speech of those around her and focusing on the two and the hushed words between them.

"-are coming. We cannot win this fight." "We have to" "They are too many. These people will die if they stay." "The Force is on o-" "The Force will not save them from the Sith" "How dare-" "We have two hours to prepare. What are your orders, commander?" "... Give the order to prepare a retreat. Buy us as much time as you can while we take them through the caves." "It has been an honour, Commander Raine" "May the Force be with you, captain."

The two split off from each other and a shadow fell on the Jedi's face. Ophidia pushed herself up to her feet. She leaned on a crutch and hobbled along towards the Jedi with sympathy on her face, then reached out a pale hand to rest it on her shoulder.

"Such weight rest on your shoulders, young one." "Take a breath, focus, and the Force will guide you on your way." "You are strong."

She took a blanket from the young Jedi and draped it around the shoulders of a half-sleeping child, moving them along.

"They rely on your strength." "You, and you alone have the power to protect them."

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

The General had been all but silent but it wasn't enough to keep the 7th from their duties. Even without the call from Command, they knew what had to be done.

Munto Codru had been a planet that, to many, held very little significance in their day to day lives but like those planets before in the Sith Empire's expansion, this one like so many before held reason for ire. There was no greater threat than the Jedi, even when their orders had all but shattered and become little more than thorns in the side yet it was clear that upon this world, the League of Voss had turned this insignificant planet into their sanctuary, a resting place for their rallied dissidents to heal and collect themselves in a bid to further resistance against their sworn enemies and the side of the Force that they served. Time and again, the League had found themselves ripped apart by the endless waves of soldiers that the Sith Empire seemed to possess and found themselves hounded at every turn by the Sith's military, intellect and raw power; whereas an Alliance and several major powers within the galactic struggle of darkness against the light had been able to provide assistance and mass a fighting force, the League found its support dwindling and its capabilities crippled. As soon as its leaders had heard that the Sith Empire had located one of their last refuges, brief panic was replaced by desperation. As soon as the armadas of the Sith Empire entered orbit and what fleet the League had been able to amass was swatted aside and the landings started, the last stand had begun.

A slew of fighters and transports flew over the mountains and the forests that connected them, strafing runs making short work of the anti-air defenses that had been established as well as League hard-points that housed turrets and other heavy munitions. Whilst the number of League personnel was dwindling at best, their recent alliances with the Codru-Ji tribes had at the very least given them a fighting chance at least where manpower was concerned-- Though the tactics that were to be utilized required a war of unconventional means, utilizing the environment to their advantage and relying upon speed and hit-and-run attacks rather than a straight up slog with the much better equipped Legion and the countless veterans of conflict spread within its ranks. As part of the main spearhead, the 7th had since begun deploying en masse across the theatre within the forest and mountainous installations and hardpoints-- Their objective? The complete eradication of the League and those clans that had allied with them. Nothing was to be sparred, the forests would burn and the mountains would crumble before the end.

Among the countless men and women that made up the fighting force of the 7th stood a new addition; Private Vaskri Mendhal, having only recently been placed into the 7th as a new transfer. His time within basic training had been informative but the stories told to him by his peers had made the unit he now served in sound like a nightmare posting, having to deal with a commanding officer that sought to push natural selection to its limits and 'training' consisting of being thrown onto the battlefield and evoking a 'kill-or-be-killed' status quo that left many fresh faces dead and those who survived disgruntled and scarred. Despite what he had heard, however, nobody had dared to speak up as the rumors surrounding the one they called the 'Demon General' spoke for themselves. The man who led the 7th, to Vaskri at least, was a monster-- A machine with a distinct lack of empathy or morality and focused entirely on obtaining results and the best out of his men. And so here he was, shipped out to be fresh meat in the ceaseless wars that the Sith Empire waged across their borders, with planet after planet falling into their hands.

Yet whatever personal thoughts had to be quickly shafted away as his transport landed and the ramp was lowered. As his squad disembarked and established security for those remaining to dismount and the shuttle to take to the skies once more, the Private knew that now wasn't the time to be thinking on anything else but keeping himself and his peers alive. With a rifle shouldered and a communications pack mounted on the rear of his armor, his gaze wandered across the thick foliage that surrounded their landing zone; no signs of movement. Whilst he could have listened out, the sounds of war echoed all around, making any attempts to hear anything difficult at best-- Visual indications would be the focus, it seemed, his wits needed to be sharp. He had to survive, he hadn't come all this way to die fighting an enemy that, at least if the news networks and general talk back home was to be believed, on its last legs.

The scream of a fighter flying overhead and delivering its payload signaled his squads advance-- Deep into the valley of death.

 

[Darth Hadius]

ST-2370, otherwise known as Hazard, marched in formation with the rest of his unit. He felt ill at ease given the sudden change. Of course he knew he was going to Munto Codru, but he had not been briefed for this particular post. They were all fighting for the same side, but his company had detached from his battalion. They were sent to reinforce this front. Some Sith needed extra bodies.

He had a bad feeling about this, but he kept his mouth shut and adapted. He was a soldier after all. Deep down he knew this was about more than just being away from the rest of the guys. This was his first serious battle action. Was it too late to throw up in your helmet?

"That him?" ST-2485, 'Evans', said to ST-2279, 'Kane', in a hushed tone, but loud enough for the nearby soldiers to hear. "What?" "The guy. The Triumvir" he gestured with his helmet in the direction of the Zabrak. Hazard followed where he was looking, and took a measure of the guy for himself. Far away, but the signs were there. Black armour, dark robes. That guy had to be a Sith. "Bollocks" the deeper voice of Kane replied. "Come on. How can it not be?" "Guys" Hazard interjected, picking up his pace a little as he inserted himself into the conversation. "That dude? He's a baby. He's lording over no one." Hardly the truth, but it made him sound tough. Or so he thought.

"Guys" Hazard pressed again, their helmets turning ever so slightly in his direction. His tone was hesitant, almost ashamed. "I have a confession..." he paused for effect, something which the other two clearly had no patience for. But he waited just enough, and before they shot back he followed up with "It's me. I am the Triumvir." Kane wasn't impressed, shaking his helmet with a grunt. But it got a laugh out of Evans. Win.

"Hey! Cut the chatter" the voice of their Sergeant booming through killed the chuckles. Busted. Hazard dropped back into formation again. Even behind the visors of his helmet, he could feel Sarge's ice cold glare burning through his white armour.

It was Evans who broke the silence, to the surprise of no one. "You gotta admit though, Sarge, it's a little exciting though. I mean, someone like-" he got cut off before he got any further. Sarge wasn't having it today. Probably he was worried if this kept on much longer he'd have his superior officer hounding him like he was hounding them. "Shut up Evans. Just keep marching"

It took every fiber of Hazard's being to not reply in a robotic voice Roger Roger.

[member="SL2222"]​