Monty Tython and the (Un)Holy Grail (OS Dominion of Tython)

[Vrag]

Location: Tython
Objective: Build a Sith temple
Allies: [member="Hal Terrano"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U9QC2k3M6PE​

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"Good."

Her lips twitched with the hint of a smile behind the immovable mask covering her face, and strong fingers abandoned their grip on his chin. She had what she needed, and she would let him revel in his misery if he so desired. The journey ahead of them certainly wasn't a short one, and the woman was secretly hoping his brooding phase would pass by the time they reached the temple.

It would be a mood killer, after all, to have a moping former Jedi exude sadness and haplessness in the background while the tireless, well-oiled machine of the One Sith worked to make the world anew. The whole planet positively reeked of tradition and stale, routine-steeped air, like a forgotten room in the basement that had accumulated all the garbage and broken toys of a household throughout the years.

Time to take out the trash.

With that thought resonating in her head, the Hand of the Dark Lord turned to face the men in charge of the supplies and machinery needed for their purpose on Tython. "Come on, load it back up, boys!" Her voice rang strong across the clearing, and then she repeated the order in her comlink as well, communicating it to the rest of her forces.

"We're going to the mountains," the firrerreo continued, blue eyes flickering over to where Hal Terrano was standing for but a moment. "Ice Giant range, apparently," she added after a brief talk with the tech group back on the Right Hand. Even as the words left her mouth, the woman turned on her heel and promptly marched back onto one of the dropships, the clang of chitinous boots once again filling the air as metal replaced soil beneath her feet. She had thought it would've have taken longer to coax the information out of the man, truth be told, but she really wasn't going to complain; swift and efficient was her favorite combination.

 

[Raien Keth]

Mission: Forge a World.
Allies: [member="Spark Finn"] | [member="Darth Carach"]​

Force and Fire, blood and flame.​

Ground burning, the life blood of this place was almost choking. gasping for breath. He continued focusing on the most primal spots of the force nexus they were standing on, eyes burning the same color as his palms, unleashing the darkside directly into the planet’s surface, pin point strikes on an otherwise healthy planetary body. If he had not seeded so many force nexuses in his life, he might have found this more difficult, but the truth was, this was second nature to find the potential, and corrupt it. Never had he had this raw direct connection that the lightening leaving his fingertips gave him however, drawing deep of the darkside to pour it outward to blacken, marr and seep into the ground. Perhaps the surrounding weather, perhaps the wildlife, perhaps the soul of this place would never be the same way again.

It was not without cost. For he did tire, and slow to deepen his breathing, denied the force enhancement that [member="Natol’ine"] ‘s crystal would bring him. So his force lightening ended for a time, the rush of emotion left his fingertips, sparking at the ends, palms drawing that energy inward. The Betrayer’s eyes hunted toward the unknown and unseen arrival of [member="Spark Finn"] weighing and measuring her approach, as he did all that came before him in the force, but he saw nothing of her yet, and so returned to his task.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CXGVAKiC894​

How to Forge a World.​

The relentless assault began anew, focus deepening further, it would pull him around the surrounding grounds, not a step would be left untouched. Starting here, until the entire world burned, one tree, one stone, one memory at a time. Nothing drove force potential like the corruption of a symbolic site, the need to avenge it, the need to defend it, this was a cauldron of potential conflict for the future, it needed tending to like only the Sith code could.

He saw his homeworld in his eyes on fire, and that is what he brought here, those lessons, and that sacrifice to build a greater future, conflicts to come.

(8)​

 

[Darth Timoris]

Melori felt the Force at work but was insufficiently trained to understand what was going on.

She stepped forward and offered her palm and was aware the Sith’s eyes changed from a deep blue to white. The air noticeably changed, the temperature dropping a couple of degrees.

The woman’s words were not exactly a revelation, but it demonstrated she was telling the truth. Her sister Corvus was a significant thorn in her side and of course she didn’t trust her. And she’d already betrayed her. But the prospect of a gift was intriguing. But as for the blue part, Melori was simply puzzled.

As Melori took her hand back, she gazed around. The time for searching for a prize was not now. So she nodded to the Sith and pulled her hood over her head and walked away. Soon she was jogging again, wondering what scheme Corvus might be planning. Would she dare let slip to the Sith her true identity? She’d kept it secret until now, and the revelation could have her killed if not handled correctly.

Her brow furrowed in a scowl, she ran back to her ship.

[member="Sera Inkari"]

 

[Khallesh]

Objective: Wander around.

“So, why exactly did you need me here?” Kahllesh asked. Her arachnostaff shifted its position to find one more comfortable, and the Yuuzhan Vong Hunter ran a finger down its back idly.

The Master Shaper Jun Paarth flashed her a brief smile. “Tython is home to a wide variety of creatures, some silicon based, very unique. It seemed sensible to bring protection in case I encountered something dangerous.”

Khallesh grunted quietly, her lithe form clambered up a rocky protrusion in a moment so she could take a look around.

“Hah! And perhaps it is good to get away from our home and talk in private,” Jun Paarth replied.

“Ah more conversations?” Khallesh asked suspiciously.

“How is your Domain these days?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Khallesh snapped. “They have become distant,” her keen eyes scanned the horizon.

“Of course, they fear you have been exposed to less traditional ideals,” Paarth replied.

Khallesh eyed the Shaper up suspiciously. “Yes.”

 

[Hal Terrano]

Location: Tython
Objective: Weep internally
Allies: [member="Vrag"]

One might have questioned the man's loyalty, or rather his former-loyalty.

Hesitant, but overall quick to talk. Could have lead them to the wrong place, could have said nothing at all, but why? What was the point? What did stalling give him? Absolutely nothing. Nobody was coming to save the day here, beyond his strangled insides this wasn't a conflict. What the One Sith were going to do to the temple was inevitable. Resistance was not only futile, but illogical.

Why suffer needlessly when it was going to happen regardless?

Or was it, in the place of logic, selfishness? Cowardice. So often his gaze bounced between the realm of soft, fleshy shame and jaundiced fear it seemed as if Hal Terrano couldn't exist upon any other emotional spectrum. You are a coward. You are weak.

Back into the dropship.

Unfortunately for Vrag the man didn't suddenly develop a sunnier disposition after hammering more nails into his coffin of betrayal. Even the ringing of his boots upon gun metal grey sounded more than just dejected. Unless his tormentor planned upon forcing conversation it was going to be a long, quiet ride.

With his head down, eyes still tinged with shame Hal retreated to the corner of the dropship and continued to steep his mind in thoughts that could only aggravate his condition.

 

[Vrag]

Post count: 5
Location: Ice Giant mountains
Objective: Build a temple!
Allies: [member="Hal Terrano"]​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BEm0AjTbsac&index=101​

One of the perks of wearing a helmet — you know, besides the protection factor — was that you could pull whatever face you wanted and still seem cold and impassive to the random observer. She was riding with well-trained soldiers, however, so it was doubtful that they would voice any remarks even if she did choose to show her dissatisfaction in the fraught lines of her features.

Prodding the former Jedi would most likely prove to be futile, however, that much Vrag had learned in her months spent with the man. Words, while effective, needed to pierce that hard shell of apathy first, and deeds were much better at cracking that particular barrier. The woman cracked her knuckles and stretched lazily as the host of dropships laden with troops, workers and equipment breezed above the desaturated earth below, the Vonduun crabs adorning her body making thin, barely audible noises as they rearranged themselves.

The sound of repursorlifts kicking in let them know they'd arrived, and then the ramp was lowered once more, allowing the forces of the One Sith to trod the sacred soil of Tython yet again. Squads of black spilled onto the harsh, snow-colored rocks of the mountain range, immediately fanning out to find a good place to establish a forward camp. The Hand of the Dark Lord followed soon after, but not after giving Hal a small push at the small of his back, directing him out of the dropship and onto the ground of a planet he obviously knew well.

The skull turned around to cast an appraising gaze upon her surroundings, head cocked to the side as she watched her well-disciplined soldiers do what they did best. The workers with their machines and demolitions gear joined the party soon after, and Vrag gave it all a small, satisfied nod. With the snap of her fingers and a curt call, the woman summoned a small squad of troops to her side.

"We'll go up the mountain, scout out the place," she explained crisply, her eyes sweeping over each of them. Finally, the blue gaze stopped on Hal Terrano, digging into the fleshy color of his Vong orbs.

"Feel free to share."

 

[Hal Terrano]

Location: Tython
Objective: Misery
Allies: [member="Vrag"]

If only he were a droid.

It would have been a blessing, just to have been able to shut down for a few moments. No thinking, just for a moment.

Unfortunately that was not the case, and so he remained in his corner of the shuttle, treacherous thoughts surfacing, thrusting nothing but horrific truths in his face and threatening to consume him completely.

On one hand it all made sense. The One Sith were looking for the Jedi Temple and they had a former-Jedi in their midst. Even without the notion of malice it made the most sense that they would use him to achieve their goals. That was stone cold logic and nothing more, why have resources if you didn't opt to use them?

Far from the realm of logic however, sat the firm weight of emotion upon Hal Terrano's chest.

This was the temple that had stifled raised him. That had stolen taken him in. Gave him his strict sense of shame discipline, taught him how to be a coward man. He actively winced to himself, even now his own thoughts were clouded with doubts. After his sparring session with one of the Acolytes back upon Prakith he found himself holding a growing resentment of their freedom.

Not only that, but seeds of doubt had been planted, forcing him to question how the Jedi had moulded him, what they made him into.

The journey in the dropship faded away, time becoming irrelevant until once more they had landed and the firm hand of Vrag was at his back, pushing him out into the thinner atmosphere. He knew where they were, still a jaunt away from the Temple but much much closer now.

This time he didn't respond to the woman with words, didn't even shift his gaze up to look at her, no, couldn't bear the thought. Instead Hal began to walk, boots crunching through the thin powdery layer of snow as he lead the way to where he knew the Temple would be.

 

[Niaana Ren]

Mission: Kill stray sheep.
Attitude: Expectant

Rain of Knives

High atop her perch in the trees, knives slithering their little way around in her hands, she began levitating a little welcome for the salvagers heading her way, only two, how disappointing. One, two, three, four… hmm five vibroknives cut and bit at the air, ready to greet them.

Voices, voices voices, she had to bite her tongue, the anticipation so present she wanted it so badly. Two men, she couldn’t see their face, race, or anything about them, swaying about in the breeze up here, but they couldn’t see her either. They saw their dead friend, and raised their weapons looking around, around everywhere but up…

Flying fast her cutting knives began to rotate, something her once Master [member="Raien Keth"] had taught her, scything their way toward her prey, she followed after them, a wail following her in the force. Screaming like a banshee when she hit ground. Her rain of dangerous metal pierced and cut, one man fell, the other was stabbed but rolled away firing, she did the same diving into her shadows. A blanket of absence swept up to surround her, while Niaana sulked around behind the forest's foliage, dodging wild desperate fire.

.... Patience... enjoy...

From out of the black, Niaana’s Lightwhip extended, a banshee piercing scream came after her, whip cutting through plantlife, through next victim, and through a tree in one. Appearing again and drunk in the fear of the other, his pain and torment as he simple fell, very dead.

She sighed softly... why did they always die so fast.

(9)​

 

[Darth Carolus]

Location: Tython​

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Objective: Creation of a base of operations for the Sith Assassins​

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Allies: The Orange Jacket Chain Gang​

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Post Tally: One​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJushnYJvQs​

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- - - - -​

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Darth Carolus approaches an empty patch of what would otherwise be referred to as, hardened wasteland, what others saw as a waste of time, Carolus saw as a potential base of operations and as such, he landed his ship and began to unpack the contents of his ship. One by one, out the back of his ship did walk five boys all dressed in orange jackets and all connected by the waste by what looks like iron clad chain links.

"Alright boys, you know what to do. Begin digging, do not stop until you get enough and then dig more!"

"Yes sir!"

As the boys began to dig at the wasteland, Carolus patrolled the nearby area but ended up returning to supervise the boys.

 

[Hans Vaiden]

Location: Ashla
Objective: Establish Imperial Garrison
Post: [1/20]

Hans couldn't even begin to understand how the Sith began to obsess themselves with creating monsters and altering everything they could get their fingers on. Be it a sword, building, or even the whole damned world. That's what they were doing now on other areas of the planet, causing havoc with all of their malevolent spell-casting and alchemical wonders that aided them. Monsters, all of them. No appreciate for how things were meant to be.

If it were up to him, he'd simply leave the place as it was and then occupy it. Simple as that.

There was a balance to be held in place. It was either the cosmic aura of the world that was making him think like this or these visions of a hopeful, peaceful future were only being strengthened. Either way, it was what he believed so Hans was determined to make it a reality rather than just a vision, a dream.

"Ready, sir?" The Scout trooper to his left asked, bearing the shoulder insignia of an officer. "We're right on schedule and only need your approval to bring in the dropships."

Hans paused for a moment. "You hailed two like I asked, Commander?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Call them in, then."

The Commander gave a small nod before activating his comlink to relay the commands. Only a small platoon of scouts and other personnel was here on the surface, including Hans. He didn't exactly partake in many ground operations - but this time it felt right, like he should be here.

 

[Raien Keth]

Much energy expended, the lightning faded from his grasp. The deed was done. The force nexus he stood upon would never be the same way again, for anyone. No matter what happened, the memory of the darkside bred into the land would be with it for a long time to come, like the rest of this world.

One Down.

Silver glint in the sky, his Flarestar class attack shuttle touched down, the circular craft was silver, sleek and fast, even for its age. Touching ground with the barely the smallest of bumps, it was how he used to be, precise and subtle. Contrasting heavy metal steps took him up the landing ramp, Sith certainty. The few golden C-3PX assassin droids with him were a poor excuse for what used to serve the Echani Sith, Sun Guard, Midnight guard and more, but they had their place. Today armed with flamethrowers and the fuel to use them, the ship was stocked with more than enough to burn the ground where it needed burning.

“Main temple grounds.” The Betrayer ordered, his gritty wounded voice commanding the destination, and the droids complied without question for they knew better.

Location: Kaleth The Main Temple
Mission: Harden the surroundings to be worthy of Sith Strength

Although he had never laid eyes on it and could not say. There was likely little recognizable left at the Jedi’s main temple site, the Sith were busy underway doing much needed improvements of the design, taking away the weakness and replacing it with strength. The training areas for example would no longer be fun filled affairs, they would be brutally efficient at training new Sith to walk forth. All the weak calming décor was certainly being pulled down to be replaced with proper Sith symbolism

So it would be with the surrounding landscape, and that is where Raien Keth came in. Buildings came and went, but the land remained, he played the long game.

It had been a short flight, and the Knight was still tired from his exertions, the primal act of darkening a force nexus had put him in a deep meditation to regain some of his energies. It would be long before he had that potential in him again, perhaps before their time here was done.

Out his boots carved across the mountain temple site, “burn everything that isn’t worthy to look upon.” The place must be hard, it must mirror the Sith, all taint of the Jedi stain needed to be removed. You did that by eradicating or reseeding the wildlife and fauna first and foremost, the living body of the planet.

So it was at Raien’s direction… that fire and flame would once again blacken the landscape around the main temple, the only difference being, it was carried by machine. Claiming any tree, bush, or living thing too tainted to stand. The rocks would follow next to be reshaped, the ground, the heart of this place, for it must be worthy of the name of the One Sith.


Flarestar Class
C-3PX

(10)​

 

[Hans Vaiden]

Location: Ashla
Objective: Establish Imperial Garrison
Post: [2/20]

There wasn't too much of anything worth noting here on Ashla. Even the veteran scouts of Besh company hadn't discovered much else on this light-hued moon besides stone outcroppings and ruins of ancient palaces of meditation and philosophical thinking. Strategically, Ashla was just another obstacle you had to get past when attempting to reach Tython, sort of like going around a wall to get somewhere. The only thing was: Ashla as it was proved to be a very ineffective wall.

"Dropships are here, sir. Engineer battalions have mobilized and the Scourge wants to know if you require any more manpower." The Scout trooper commander was back again, pristine armor gleaming as he saluted. He was a good soldier.

"Not at the moment, Commander. Have them standby just in case; otherwise, continue operations as directed."

The trooper nodded. "Yes, sir."

And with that, Captain Vaiden and his little headquarters section sat aboard the ridgeline. They watched as massive Titan dropships deposited parts and pieces for a Prefabricated garrison base and for something more... specialized. From the looks of it, disk projectors and heavy fortifications were organized in neat clusters as Imperial engineers and their heavy construction vehicles moved to take them away.

Very good, Hans thought.

 

[Khallesh]

Deciding to change the subject, Khallesh looked to the small flabby biot that Jun Paarth was holding. "What's that?" she asked bluntly.

Jun Paarth raised her eyebrows, "Ahh, you would seek sacred knowledge from the cortexes of the Shaper caste!" she accused triumphantly.

"I apologise I meant no... "

"Don't be foolish Khallesh Val," the Master Shaper retorted. "It is measuring gravitational and atmospheric fluctuations, such that we can better understand how to reform this region."

"Oh," the mighty huntress replied, sheepishly.

"Tell me Khallesh, why did we lose the war for this galaxy?" Jun Paarth asked. She tucked the biot away in her robeskin and took a seat on a rock, waving for Khallesh to do likewise.

She thought on that for a moment. Many excuses, and that was what she was certain they were, had been offered on the matter. She mentally sifted through them, starting to form an answer. This was utterly unlike the training she had received all her life, and yet she didn't walk away for almost heretical views. Once she settled on an answer she found it sounded weak. Fortunately before she could voice it, Jun Paarth carried on.

"We failed because we did not adapt quickly enough. They learned how to beat us faster than we could evolve. The infidel machines of our home were smashed because we rose up and created new weapons from the fabric of the gods to end them, yet we stagnated. Look at what Titan industries is doing with our shapers, and yet it is mostly humans who are reaping the fruits of these endeavours. Traditionalists, like most of those in Domain Val would stick so closely to the old ways, that they would drive us to extinction."

Khallesh sat in silence. Every ideal was being challenged. Was this a test? Would she be finished if she responded incorrectly. "But the True Way...."

 

[Darth Carolus]

Location: Tython​

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Objective: Creation of a base of operations for the Sith Assassins​

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Allies: The Orange Jacket Chain Gang​

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Post Tally: Two​

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aR5fZBDBX2g​

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- - - - -​

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Darth Carolus continued his supervision of his gang, that was until he was sent an important message regarding the Sith Assassins. He would walk off to be able to reply, that was when he heard a loud scream but instead of caring, the assumption came over that one of them started go lose their mental.

Little Davey started to run up to Carolus, while shouting to get his attention. It was obvious he was quite frightened yet excited.

"Child, need I punish you for sneaking up on my messages!"

"N- No sir, w- we found something sir."

With a nod, Carolus followed Dave back and as the digging site came into vision, it was very obvious what he saw and found.

"Alright boys, take a long break and when I send you back, you are to raid that there building and remove all of the filthy Jedi."

"Yes sir!"

As he shouts the order, and watches Dave stamp down holds for ladders, Carolus watches the boys climb their way out of the cave-in and beyond, at the uncovered Jedi temple and smiles broadly behind his iron mask.

"What a find and it's mine."

- - - - -​

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[Khallesh]

“Of course the True Way!” Paarth interrupted. “But do you really think the Sith value the True Way, or are they just using us? Which is better, a flourishing Yuuzhan Vong society, still under the values of our gods, but evolving and changing to challenge the rest of the Galaxy on our own two feet.

“They have warriors of great renown in their Jeedai, but so do we. Our greatest designs are used to gather coin for human business men, and territory for the Sith. Yet those who most dislike this cling so tightly to the old traditions they refuse to change.”

Khallesh didn’t reply to that, she sat in silence. She felt that could neither process all these thoughts immediately nor had to. Lithely springing up from her perch, she turned and started to walk away. “I thank you for your candidness Shaper,” she said.

“If you think to report me for this to the priests, know there will be consequences,” Paarth called after her.

Khallesh turned on one heel, hand on the hilt of her coufee. “If I took that great offence at your words shaper, you’d be dead.”

“Well then, I guess I can thank you for your candid nature too!” Paarth replied, moving back into her typical sing-song voice. She got to her feet and carried on doing whatever shapers did, as if nothing had just transpired.

 

[Darth Isolda]

There was a buzzing at the edge of her hearing, one that quickly swelled and crested as the dark currents enveloped her. Isolda felt her cheek twitch--unaware that a tiny purple bruise formed there.

More. Her mind chanted as she gathered the Force to her. There was the briefest moment of pain as she could feel the heat of this energy, but she quickly got it under her control. More, she thought as she pushed this gathered energy down through her limbs. It made her skin hot, her nerves a-jangle as it slid like some invisible serpentine creature just beneath her flesh..

The Eye of the Dark Lord gave a grunt, more out of anger than pain, and pressed with her mind, releasing that buildup of energy to lurched high into the air to avoid the push.

There was a flurry of Force energy within her, rising like a sudden heated curtain of air, the hair in her arms and the nape of her neck stood on end. It rose up like some static charge and fueled her movements. The scent of charred flesh was thick in the air, the shroud of the Darkside falling in glorious display with every soul sent to the void.

With a growing fury, Isolda raised both hands with predatory grace, a snarl flashing on her crimson lips as she funneled the power of the Darkside. She breathed it in, more dark violet blotches bursting to flower over her pale skin under the strain of it. Her blood rushed hot in her veins, and she gave a violent satisfied cry.

The thirst for strength, power and glory ran deep, powered by the madness that had claimed Isolda since she was a child. An obsession that led to her dark emotions to the surface; utter devotion to the Dark Lord.Her heart hammered in her chest, and the thin membrane of flesh of her lids turning into a mottled purple black hue as the thin capillaries burst. She could feel the deep well of her simmering anger fill, the nearly mindless, savage need to bring those against her to grisly and just ends, to strip, taint, and corrupt every rock, creature, and tract of land before them in conjunction with her brethren.

The anger bled through her mind, fed the dark side of the Force that had begun to swell within every midichlorian of her body. Yet still this was not enough; her skin flushed with the sheer strength of her anger as a terrible terrible rage encompassed every cell.

The Darkside of the Force practically howling within the Seeress as the unholiest of holies began to bear fruit on the planet of Ashla and


[member="Sena Lassiter"] [member="The Hound"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Darth Arcanix"] [member="Silara Kuhn"]

 

[Darth Centax]

Location: Kaleth The Main Temple
Mission: Fetch and Carry

Kylath was angry, so what was new. When someone barked orders at him for the hundredth time, he nearly took their head off. Force pike on his back, but mundane materials in his hands, in his hands! He was fed up with taking orders, carrying the building materials like some nothing trooper. So eventually he lashed out, he threw down the metal, seething. He wasn’t some trash, he was an acolyte, or he would be, frelling waste of time.

It wasn’t until he was physically confronted by someone levelling a blaster at him like usual, that he complied. He so wanted to kill their squad leader, you don’t even know, he’d get even. The crack of the butt of the rifle into his jaw next was just one more reason, it sent his head heavily to the side, that was going to leave a mark. He felt his jaw, squaring it side to side and staring the helmet faced LT down.

Kylath spat, half blood, half spit and carried on walking. He was going to start training as an acolyte so he didn’t have to put up with this frelling hutt slime!. They'd be respecting him. Nostrils flaring he walked inside, the veins on the side of his head bulged. Red, he could dig red, blacks not so much. Orders were barked again, and the troops began reinforcing the walls and roofs. Glare from the LT, the trooper patted the bruise on his chin, that guy was going to burn, Kylath's face went white.

Frelling shutta, rage was building, he tensed his hands into a fist, struggling to not just rip into him.

(11)​

 

[Kelon Amadis]

Location: Kaleth The Main Temple
Mission: Whip their Backs

Dropping his helmet off, and throwing it aside, so he could get up in the face of the smaller guy. [member="Kylath Amadis"]

"Sorry about the Jaw," he joked at the bleeding whelp, “now get moving, all of you.” So the squad picked up and the work continued. Work he was happy to sit at the back supervising. He didn’t know any of them, and couldn’t care less if they were tired. They needed this temple built, so that was it.

Dressed as one of the troopers, full armor on and readying his rifle, he stared the squad down, with a self-satisfied smile. It was good being the boss, till another boss came along. Beat working the temple grounds and clearing up the mess after a training session. He was new to the order, and his smug attitude hadn’t earned him any friends, his money did buy him out of the hands on grunt work, but that was about it.

So they wanted a temple building, sure, breaking a few backs to do it was just a bonus. Scratching his head, he noticed someone bending down resting, kicking the nearest worker over, “come on move. The Masters haven’t got all day.”

The site was looking good, black temple, matching reds. Not that the neophyte force user cared one way or the other what it looked like, but he got the feeling some did, so he was paying attention to the details, and to exactly what the men were doing. Kelon nodded to one of the guards with him, looking at one of the laborers slacking, they were soon reminded about Sith efficiency.

(12)​

 

[Hans Vaiden]

Location: Ashla
Objective: Establish Imperial Garrison
Post: [3/20]

It never took long for Imperial engineers aided by standard personnel to erect the simplest of defenses. Everything in the Imperial war machine was either prefabricated for quickly deploying and holding fast or to merely act as an impenetrable fortress for all to see. This little project operated by a mere Star Destroyer Captain surely wasn't an operation on the magnitude of warranting attention from anyone else, but it was an extremely strategic decision to establish defenses here.

"Captain, the Garrison base will be finished shortly. Shall we move in and begin setting up personnel and administration systems?" It was quite a lot to ask this of your commander, especially when you never knew if he was stressed and ready to burst or simply in a pensive trance. The Scout trooper awaited patiently, however, for Hans's answer.

"No, just get it fortified and then move on. We'll worry about setting up pleasantries and the like later, but let the men know breaks are always an option. I don't want some overzealous private to try and lift an entire wall by himself." Hans grimaced at the thought. "It'd be a shame to write to his mother and detail his death by duracrete slab."

The trooper saluted once again, though he didn't move out as he was expected to do.

"Yes?"

"Sir, I was wondering what the point might be for us setting up defenses here. I mean, you're fleet command and this job is typically left to me and my boys. What made you come out personally to build a steel hut and then leave?"

The Captain rubbed his chin, impressed with this man's candor. "If you've never seen me in action, would you trust in my abilities?" He waited for the trooper to shake his head. "Of course not. And besides, it's always nice to stretch my legs some and crack the whip. Not to mention that this is essential to planetary defense anyways. Military strategy 101, Commander."

 

[Darth Veles]

After the strange occurrence that had happened earlier, one that almost made him seriously question the sanity of himself and others, the Mon Cal Sith Lord once again embarked on the journey leading straight to his mother. Not the biological one; the Sith one. Soft steps carried him through the wasteland that was about to become permanently claimed by the Dark Side of the Force, accompanied by the presence of dozens of other beings, some warily looking at the apocalyptic surroundings, others silently contemplating their lives while they could. The atmosphere was truly grim dark considering every single man and women in a uniform indicating their prison status was going to die this day, be sacrificed to strengthen Isolda’s connection to the Dark Side and allow the Sith Lady to twist and bend the very nature of the planet to her will, changing it for all eternity. Unlike the prisoners though, Veles saw a spark of hope at the end of their journey; something was ending so something else could be born. A natural cycle of life and death. Of course, there was the matter of being ethical while executing the prisoners, but he couldn’t really talk into the Eye’s work. If their suffering further empowered the Dark Side, then their last moments would be devoted to agony and pain. Unfortunate, but necessary, most likely.

The Dark Side started to sing its sinister song, indicating they were near. Chills of cold death ran down Veles’ spine as he grew closer to the Sith Lady, the amphibian could practically smell and taste the Dark Side in the air, its strong presence radiating from Lady Isolda. It tickled. The sheer power washed over the non-Force users as well, their feelings revealing they have noticed the change in the air. All guards continued their steady march through the barren lands, discipline and sense of duty alike preventing them from acting upon their instincts and running away from the unseen presence of dread. Some of the prisoners, on the other hand, lacked the strength to resist. The pressure was too much, cracking their sense sanity, the uncontrollable urge to flee could not be denied. With their shackles, they were an easy prey for the ones sporting the Sith insignia, falling to blue rings of stun bolts that whizzed through the air moments later. Their burden would be dragged along by others, blindly walking to slaughter.

And then his large amber eyes finally spotted her, spying on the shadowy form of a woman that was perfect in every way. Nothing less than a living manifestation of the Dark Side itself. His mother. For a moment, he stopped, his body frozen, and he admired the sight that brought terror into his heart. Veles could not tear his gaze away, for all the terror he felt, the Dark Side also filled its servant with glee, corruption finding its way into his heart, which started pounding faster at the knowledge the Sith was about to witness a historical moment of transforming this planet regarded as some sort of ancient sanctuary for the Jedi into its complete opposite.

“Lady Isolda.”

A soft moan escaped his lips and he found holding back his tears to be difficult. The very same woman who had elevated his old self into a Sith stood right there, her greatness free for all to feel. It pained Avreet his old Master was not here, missing out; he would have cried if she were, joining her strength with Isolda. Two perfect women, both responsible for his creation, working together to create something great and eternal.

Snapping out of it as he remembered they all had a purpose, the Mon Cal turned around and waved his hand, motioning for the guards to bring the prisoners closer.

[member="Darth Isolda"]