Luxurious Aggression (OS Dominion of Vortex)

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=4/20]​

​

Anger finally consumed Melori.

Calling on the Force again, she launched herself from the chasm, somersaulting and half-twisting in mid-air, so that when her boots struck the resilient ground she was facing the backs of her hunters with her blaster in hand. By the time the three of them whirled— the human’s lined face contorted in bafflement — Melori had holstered her blaster.

Still trusting in the suits, they scattered, shooting blindly on the run. Though not a bolt found Melori, the Force guided her to avoid them, each false pained outcry elated the hunters. The human’s blaster was almost depleted when he deactivated his suit and shouted for Melori to stand down. But Melori ignored him. Swept up in the grip of sadistic delight, she drew the hilt of her saber, the Dark-side writhing through her like an aggrieved serpent.

Around the smoothed top of a low, bone-dry hill, an air-speeder came into view, settling into levitation mode as it put down at the edge of the chasm, a squad of Sitherhood troopers present, their blasters trained on the human in front of Melori.

The human had holstered his weapon and was gazing into the dark chasm, at the spot where Melori had seemingly been hanging on for dear life. When he swung around her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

“How did you—?”

“I pushed off from a ledge,” Melori said.

He took a second look and scowled. Turning back to Melori, he said, “How did you manage to target us?”

“The suits were glitched? They couldn’t decide how to blend you into the background?” She didn’t try to hide the mockery in her voice this time.

And then she activated her saber.

 

[Isamu Baelor]

Objective: Hang out, and subtly dismantle hotel's security forces.
Location: Poolside
Allies: One Sith, [member="Wilhelmine Dahma"]
Enemies: Vortex Security
2/20

As Isamu sat by the pool, examining the area, a lady greeted him. She seemed nice. At the very least, she was well-mannered. By the way she walked, and carried herself, she showed a sense of importance. It was clear to Isamu that she wasn’t your average person.

“Unfortunately not” Isamu answered. “Got lots of work to do, but my wife was insistent that we get away.” Isamu extended his hand, and shook hers in greeting. “My name is Tycho. Tycho Redgrave” He said. It was a lie. A cover persona created by One Sith intelligence for the operation.

The friendly lady gave her name in response. “Take a seat” Isamu offered. “I suppose you’re on vacation too?” he asked. In truth, he was not particularly interested. He needed to wait for Major Murasame to finish her recon of the building. Having a conversation with this lady would help him blend in while he waited.

 

[Disciple]

[12/20]​

Objective: 2​

Allies: [member="Vrag"]​

​

Vrag was torturing the man, until she put him out of his misery, and Astaire knew he was going to struggle to keep up with the much better prepared woman. Two staircases remained, and she would stop at the first landing. She wasn't going to be waiting for him, as it was clear he was much slower than her by now. So he made his way up further, to the last hallway. There were likely to be no guards up here.

Perhaps their commander decided to stay at the top of the hotel.

He had no idea. It wouldn't make sense, but it seemed logical given the nature of their day so far.

Stepping out into the hallway to a hasty assemblage of wounded soldiers and a corpulent man with a commanders tabs, Astaire shambled his way forward, arms swaying out to either side of his body. "So, at last, my love has come along." He says, switching between a singing voice and his monotone seemingly at random. "But I want to know, really I do, have you ever seen the rain?"

Everyone was staring at him, debating the merits of helping the clearly disturbed man. "Especially when the thunder rolls." His shoulders squared, body locking rigid as a blue glow suffused his body, Lusk appearing like a puppeteer behind his body. "The Scorekeeper will honor your sacrifice." The voice says, a reptilian hiss.

What followed was the sound of crackling electricity and the screams of the dead and dying. Perhaps Vrag was having her own fun.

 

[Darth Isolda]

[member="Darth Drethi"]
Cathedral of Winds
3/20

Like locusts, the Vors flew in the air. They were a relatively peaceful species, but when faced with having their precious Cathedral overtaken, they rose to defend it. The question was, would they be willing to defend it until their last breath?

The Eye of the Dark Lord would continue to smirk, and her molten silver gaze would drift down towards the figure of the Sword of Vahl. Drethi had certainly risen to the occasion, and as seen through the mists of farsight that the Goddess had given her, there was still more to come.

The discovery of their lost world was upon them, she could feel it in her bones. Soon, there would be a reckoning.

With this thought in place, the Chosen of Vahl would pour herself into the Darkside of the Force. A slow chuckle would fall from her crimson lips, a wolfish grin twisting as she summoned from the depths the power she was blessed with.

They wanted to take the skies?

Then she would grant them shadows of the night.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

1/20
Objective: 3. – Making house calls.
Location: A Vor settlement.

Obviously, some had expected Darth Ophidia to contribute to the socialising and subtle dismantling of the hotel security forces in order to take out the prime minister. While that was a sound assumption, it was incorrect. Though the PM was the most important, he was not the only one to speak out against the expansion of the Sith Empire. It had become her task to make some house calls and sway their opinion.

Hidden in the vermillion grass, the pale assassin watched the dwelling like a predator observing its prey. Her presence had been supressed to the point where the inhabitants could not detect her, unless they specifically searched for her form. In the tall grass, she prowled closer like a malevolent shadow and a nameless chill down the spines of the Vor. An unsettling sensation fell over the settlement as she descended upon them with malice in her heart.

She knew exactly what dwelling she needed to enter. Like a viper in a hencoop, she parted the tall grass before her. The black cape draped behind her and the dark hood obscured the metallic features of her helmet. If she had allowed them to sense her, she might as well have carried a bright red sash with blinking lights spelling “SITH” or “BAD PERSON”. She might have found that amusing, were it not for the fact that she was far too focused on her task at hand.

 

[Vrag]

[13/20]
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Drana'stair'eno"]​

​

​

Not bringing blast bugs had been a poor choice, but there was nothing to be done about it now. She could, however, pick up a few grenades hanging limply from the utility belts of the felled guards, which she promptly did. Close-up carnage was all fine and well until explosives started blowing up in your face; that's the point at which Vrag usually politely bowed out of CQC and sought to annihilate her opponents from afar, or preferably still, before they ever even realized she was coming for them.

Her HUD registered the slinking blue-and-red shadow in the corner of her field of view as the battered chiss snuck up the next flight of stairs, presumably to have some fun on his own. As he passed her, Vrag quietly noted the deep streaks of purple demarcating the paths travelled by shrapnel underneath his skin, with bits still sticking out of his back at odd angles. The fact that he was not only still moving, but very much intent on finishing the job despite the metal embedded in his flesh was nothing short of impressive.

Then again, that thing pulling his strings likely made it impossible to feel pain. Who knew?

Vrag didn't care for Force ghosts, or any other ghosts, for that matter.

Currently, she cared about the grenade she was about to cook and deliver at the feet of the few guards still holding out on the floor she occupied. They were huddled together behind a makeshift barricade lodged between two opposing doors, stacked out of chairs, desks, and sofas.

Briefly, she wondered what kind of grenades they carried, but abandoned the thought in favor of lobbing the explosive instead and finding out empirically.

 

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=5/20]​

She saw comprehension in the man’s eyes the moment before her blade snap-hissed into life. She held a single saber – and stood in a Makashi stance.

And with three pairs of eyes now transfixed by the crimson blade, she lashed out with the Force, hurling the three several meters back towards the chasm’s edge. But she had no desire to kill them yet. Not until she explained why they would die.

“You’re a Sith?” the man said, “But I thought…”

“You thought I was just another trooper? One of them?” She jerked her thumb at the speeder that still kept its distance. “And you figured it would take three of you to bring me down?”

“But…but...but…we were told to. Paid to.”

“Who do you think paid you? I did.”

There was a look of surprise on all three faces now – as they scrabbled back to their feet.

“I wanted to teach you a lesson. But in a public way. You see, this little hunt has been recorded. And will be shared. As a lesson to never cross the Sith. Never underestimate the Sisterhood.”

Realisation now dawned on the man’s face.

“Yes, yes,” Melori said. “You know now. However much you were paid to betray us before? It was not enough. It never is.”

“I don’t know,” he sneered, suddenly bullish. “They paid better than you. And if you were going to kill me, you would have done so by now.” He quickly raised his hand and fired off a three-round burst at Melori’s chest.

She batted away the first two and the third was redirected to hit the man in the knee-cap.

“No, no, no. Tsk, tsk. You really are stupid aren’t you. You see…I’m not going to kill you. They are.” She pointed at the troopers who immediately opened fire – the man and the two rodians ripped apart by shot after shot.

Some minutes later they stopped firing. In front of Melori was a bloody mess, limbs separated from torsos and stone dust was hovering in the air.

She deactivated her saber and opened a com-link to the troopers. “Now, Vortex isn’t it? I understand there’s a luxury hotel beckoning. I need to change and then you need to get me there.”

 

[Disciple]

[13/20]
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Vrag"]

Cooking meat had its own peculiar smell, especially when so much fat was involved. Astaire had personally never smelled cooking scales until today. Arcs of lightning leapt from curled fingertips, sending innumerable volts through the bodies in the hallway. Whatever they were saying, whatever they wanted from, he wasn't listening.

Lusk allowed him the power to easily arc the power through his multiple enemies, knowing that the death of his host could potentially mean he would be trapped in a decaying body. By the time Astaire was finished, he was exhausted, his body nearly buckling from the strain.

Lowering himself to the floor to rest his back against the wall, he sighed and settled in, not wanting to move anywhere anytime soon. Instead be closed his eyes and let his mind wander to the floor below, following Vrags progress with every passing of a soul. Or, in this case, souls.

A muffled whump of explosion and the guards were dead. Astaire felt the concussive force through the floor.

She would come soon.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Objective: Explore caves in the jungle
Allies: [member="Darth Azurea"]
Enemies: Cave Critters
Post: 1/20


Vortex had become his next destination. He didn't know much about the planet, nor did he care to educate himself on it. It was known for lousy weather. Beyond that, the only thing that interested him was the hunt, and how it would benefit him. Anything more than that was beyond his notice. While the Sith and their agents would entertain themselves by some pool on the planet, Darth Pyrrhus, accompanied by the lovely Darth Azurea, would seek out the uninhabited areas of the planet. Or at least, areas not inhabited by sentient beings.

The Sith Lord, a title he had recently claimed, was dressed in dark robes befitting his role. He was obviously Sith, but to the wild life of Vortex, it hardly mattered. However, the crushing presence of the two Sith was sure to keep any critters with hostile intent at bay. It wasn't a conscious effort by the Togruta, he didn't consider them a threat. It was more of a well-made observation on behalf of the animals, that these two were creatures they did not want to get entangled with.

His partner in crime wore not the robes of the Sith, but instead an armour very similar to the one she had worn on Selvaris. Was she appealing to his sense of nostalgia? It worked. The girl that stood before him then, all lost and covered in mud, were lightyears apart from the powerful woman next to him now. She had cast aside the shackles of the Jedi, now standing proudly a Darth. The nostalgia combined with her leaning into him as she showed him the datapad became a distraction very challenging to rip himself away from. But they had a job to do.

"Very well. Then let's start moving." he nodded, while an arm casually wrapped around her gave her an affectionate tap, before he strode forwards. Pyrrhus had come a long way from the hunter he had been. The memory of Tanek Santii was a distant one, like a childhood friend he had not seen in ages. Yet he had not forgotten the lessons of his upbringing. They would stick to the path suggested by Azurea, and start their hike. "If our sources are correct, we ought to start seeing signs soon." these creatures were big, and one did not need to be a tracker to recognize the devastation they left in their wake.

 

[Vrag]

[14/20]
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Drana'stair'eno"]​

When a civvie asks a soldier how massacred bodies look like, those guys usually answer pretty truthfully with something like 'horrible', or 'disgusting'. In a hypotethical situation where a civvie would ask a Sith Lord, they'd likely get far more… tasteless responses.

Messy minced meat. Ribs. Nicely grilled ste— well, you get the point. Or maybe Vrag was just hungry and far too desensitized to care what sort of meat she was looking at. Come to think of it, she hadn't eaten since that quick bite on the ship in the afternoon, and the skies outside were looking mighty black already. Figures. Distracted by carnage again.

The Hand fired off a round into the head of a guard on the far end of the corridor to put him out of his twitching misery, then turned and followed the chiss upstairs without another glance.

She found him leaning on the wall beside a smoldering heap of smoked flesh, and her stomach growled agrily again at the sight.

"Having fun, I see," the firrerreo remarked as she cast her gaze across the room. Aside from charred human meat and a bleeding, crazy blue guy, there wasn't much of interest left in there.

"This was the last of them, anyway. Come on, let's grab a nice rare steak from that stall down the street. The party should start soon, and I'm karking starving."

 

[Disciple]

[14/20]​

Objective: 2​

Allies: [member="Vrag"]​

​

Can you not feel her hunger?

"I don't feel much of anything." Shock can do that to you. "Is that what this is?" Why yes, yes it is. You're dying.

"I guess you're coming with."

Finding no response from his roommate, Astaire looks up as Vrag joins him, staring at her weird-fleshy armor and cold eyes. He blinks once, then twice. Finally, he pushes himself up the wall in a haphazard manner, jerking himself up until he swayed onto his legs. "I would not survive the meal, I fear." Would you survive that long alone with her, anyway?

This was, ultimately, what he got for not having actual weapons or armor but fighting like he did. Perhaps that was his own fault. Perhaps it wasn't. It ultimately mattered little. "You would not happen to be skilled in the arts of the doctor, would you?" He felt surprisingly lucid. The pain, most likely.

What a day.

 

[Kinsey Starchaser]

[member="Sage Bane"]

All her hopes of garage-nerding out were dashed with a rigid tug of her master's hand. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little turned on when he hand-waved those first set of museum guards away. Mouth became as dry as the Tattooine desert though at his mental suggestion. Last time she tried this, she almost mentally drowned and passed out. "Oh. Kaaaay," she murmured.

The fear was real.

She pulled her hand free from Sage's fingers and crossed her arms firmly as she trudged deeper into the museum, heart feeling like it would pop out of her throat from trepidation. She didn't notice the display of ropos or even the historical droid exhibits. Blue-eyes were too focused on two portly looking men half asleep up ahead and guarding the entrance to where Sage wanted to go.

"Hi," she flashed one of her award winning smiles and relaxed her posture a bit. She could probably talk her way in there but knew Sage would have none of that. Mentally, she dipped her toes into that gross, seaweed water feeling that was mentalism. It felt sticky today. Dark, invisible tendrils fingered their way into the guards' minds.

"We've got two passes to see the exhibit," empty hand was proffered. But they would see the credentials to enter. She could already feel her energy waning, slightly. Brow-furrowed in concentration as she went mentally deeper.

"Guard change is coming soon. You should leave. Now." The suggestion was laced with an order.

 

[Vrag]

[15/20]
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Drana'stair'eno"]​

It was an odd experience, listening to a man conversing with something that was a part of him and yet wasn't. As interesting as it was, however,it wasn't something Vrag was curious to explore atop a hotel she'd just razed with fire and sword. His split personality was going to look equaly intriguing on the ground floor, provided he'd survive the journey down.

Cold blue eyes watched him stumble to his own two feet again, and she could recognize the shamble of of bloodloss even as he voiced his troubles.

She had half a mind to leave him there. He'd been useful, sure, but could she really be bothered to expend energy on healing a half-crazed chiss with a penchant for turning monologue into dialogue? As fascinating as he might have been, Vrag would be hard pressed to see the practicality of of the man. He fought like a berserker and clearly had the lifespan of one, and while the Hand of the Dark Lord could respect that sort of zeal in battle, it simply wasn't something she was looking to put in her employ.

"No."

She was tempted to leave, and her growling stomach was making the urge all the more pronounced. Oh, kark it.

"Turn around," she ordered and flicked her lightsaber back on, intent of picking out the smaller pieces of shrapnel out of his flesh before searing the wounds shut with a pass of her blade. Maybe he'd faint from the pain, but at least he wouldn't bleed out right then and there, which would give Vrag enough time to order someone to come pick him up and drop him in a tank of kolto on the Imperious.

 

[Artemis Vahl'Nyx]

{1/20}
Objective: 2- 'Subtle' Murder
Allies: The usual
Enemies: People, mostly

There were people to kill.

There always were, really. Innocents, sometimes, tyrants other times. Did it matter?... To some, yes. But morality, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. When the death-walkers had asked the soul-bearer to bring the slaughter to the sheep, she had nodded, accepting the duty without so much as a second thought. Or a first. They had come slowly, after her, into the night. Each carried concealed weapons or powers unimaginable. But the dream-waker, the dead woman, had no need for hidden abilities.

She herself was hidden from the world.

And as the death-walkers revealed themselves, coming to strike upon the sleeping soldiers, she let the shawl drop, and once again the world could feel her presence. While men and monsters alike fought, she traveled from room to room, appearing as death itself, slaying those who could do no harm to her. Ghosts are not fair opponents, the soul-bearer thought, they cannot be killed. Some tried to shoot her, but their bolts flew past her, or through her, and into the void beyond. Only a spirit-weaver could fight a chaos-bound. None of them could.

They tried to resist. Tried to avoid the swift doom she brought them. But they couldn't avoid the grasp of a true ghost, no matter how hard they tried. So the specter moved along, aiding her kin with ease, quietly murmuring to herself as she went. For many, the last thing they heard before release was an odd tune from an old time.

What is dead cannot die, for with the spirits they do lie. From sheltered dawn to filtered dusk, once body not but a husk, ghosts may wander, and ghosts may fly, but do not ever believe that a soul may die.

 

[Disciple]

[15/20]​

Objective: 2​

Allies: [member="Vrag"]​

​

Reaching up to tear the faded jacket off his body, Astaire turned his back to the woman. Are you her servant? Or are you really that desperate? "Hush, Lusk. Let your betters play." With his back exposed, he'd not doubt feel the tear and pull of the shrapnel leaving his body, and she'd hear the hiss of air through grit teeth as pain rushed through his veins. It would, of course, be followed by the cripplingly painful sensation of his wounds being cauterized.

To his credit, he didn't faint, though a flaring of the Force said that may be the result of his other half. "My appreciation, Mistress." He says in a low voice.

 

[Lassiter]

[2/20]
Cathedral of winds
[member="Darth Isolda"]

Defend to their last breath. Now that was something Sena had seen many do yet few succeed with. A suicidal kind of loyalty to a dying cause seemed to invigorate even the dumbest of people. Her time as the Sword had pitted her against many situations just like this before. Maybe not quite on this scale, but pinning down isolated groups of deserters and strays had become her bread and butter at this rate.

Her saber ignited and the bubble around her seemed to expand as the soldiers avoided the superheated plasma blade. Raising it in front of her she let the defenders point their blasters at her in terror.

Sena went low into a crouch. She had to prepare and execute her next few moves with precision. There were three gunmen surrounding her. Judging by the slight shake and shiver of their weapons she could use it to her advantage, though for the sake of being a sport she would let the others make the first move. Mostly because, well, they were already dead as it was.

The errant sound of a trigger getting pulled at, a prompt lunge for the perpetrator and a severed head. An extended hand and the crackle of thunder. A toss with of her saber and a severed torso. Sena was nothing if not precise in her execution and the lack of any real remorse or pity was the reason she was damn good at what she did.

If only she herself would see that, of course.

The three gunmen laid dead on the ground and Sena was free to push ahead into the temple.

 

[Sage Bane]

Objective: Raid Vors museums reliquaries
Location: Vortex Capital
Allies: [member="Kinsey Starchaser"]
Enemies: Whoever wants to stop us
3/20

As master and student made their way through the Museum of Ahlm, Sage felt Kinsey's fear radiating off of her in cold waves. He made sure he kept up a honey-toned litany of encouragement in her mind.

Don't give into your fear, Kinsey. Use it. Use it to gather more of the Force, and strengthen that mental bond between you and your victims.

Mentalism was a struggle for the Starchaser girl. It wasn't that Kinsey lacked a sharp intellect. It was more that she was an extrovert. Action-oriented. Thrill-seeking. She wasn't a nose-in-the-books type. Sage knew that she could do this though.

As expected, she marched right up to the guards with that Starchaser bravado, but when her tendrils reached out to touch their minds, they faltered a bit. She wasn't confident enough. His soft tenor snaked through her mind again.

You got this, Kinsey

Slowly, as if walking through sap, one of the two reptilian guards stepped to the side and the other pressed the activation code on the door's security terminal. It hissed open for the two Sith. "Thank you," Sage told the vacant-gazed guards, and with a jerk of his head and a self-satisfied grin, urged Kinsey to follow him inside the reliquary.

Good girl.

 

[Vrag]

[16/20]
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Drana'stair'eno"]​

"What's up with the Mistress?" she finally gave in and asked, glad once more for the rebreather in her helmet, because there comes a point when the smell of scorched flesh is no longer appetizing, no matter how starving you may or may not be.

Going back down was like taking a short trip down memory lane — we blew his brains out here, we sliced him in two there — but Vrag wasted little time on the sights, set as she was on getting herself a piece of nicely grilled meat to warm her belly. By the looks of the stall outside, it wasn't really going to be top quality, but during her lifetime, the woman had observed an impressive amplitude in her standard of living, and therefore didn't really throw a hissy fit whenever the food didn't have a pedigree.

She had the presence of mind to slip out the back when she saw what was happening to the pool in the front courtyard, and hopefully the chiss would too. A crowd like that? No thank you, she wanted to get her steak today still.

A minute later saw the Sith Lord walking up to the stand acting as if two-metre tall horned nightmares were an everyday occurence when the man didn't immediately jump to fulfill her order. It was going to be a long evening, at this rate.

 

[Disciple]

[16/20]​

Objective: 2​

Allies: [member="Vrag"]​

​

"You don't look like a ma'am." He replies blandly, blinking at her. His pain centers all but shut down, though that wasn't entirely true. The pain was so excruciating he simply didn't feel it anymore, but he would a bit later. Tomorrow would be hell. Still, he pulled the shirt back on, covered in blood though it may be, and made his way downstairs. Not wanting to walk out into the debacle of the pool party, he followed the lead of the pale woman in spikes.

Humming to himself, he made for the stand too. "You do look like you prefer things raw and bleeding, though." He says in a dry attempt at humor. You continue to tempt fate.

"And you continue to be ignorant." She'll think you meant that for her. "I'm sure at this point she's just assuming everything I say goes to both of you." Everything he said was coming out through grit teeth, but he was, to his credit, still moving about and speaking coherently.

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

Objective: Explore caves in the jungle
Allies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]
Enemies: Cave Critters
Post: 5/20

Azurea enjoyed seeing her partner in hunter mode. Everything about the red-skinned, devil-horned Togruta was ready for the fight against a giant beast like the Terentatek. Someday she hoped they would go to Shili and investigate the roots of his birth and homeland, but now was not the time to discuss this. She would bring it up later.

First they encountered the rope bridge as marked on her map. She allowed him to go first, let him get to the middle of the rickety structure, and then she bounded across it, making the whole thing shake. Azurea had a huge mischeiveous grin on her face, wondering if he felt the fear of falling like she did. Both of them would be able to withstand a fall with the Force, but it was still fun to shake the bridge and catch him off guard. The brunette Sith Knight would probably pay for that little act of treason later.

And as she suspected, the waterfall to the side of the rope bridge was distracting - she wanted to dive right in off of the rope bridge, but perhaps once they finished with the Terentatek, they could wash off the blood and entrails off in the water. For now, she moved forward to the cave entrance where the creature was rumored to be.