Populate Pax Sithicus | SO Populate of Salteract

[Aspect of Victory]

Sluis Van
Sluis Sector
902 ABY​

A world sits burning. On the frontier of two great powers, its picture once of swirling grays, patterned by white, filled with green, and dotted by blue, now is inflamed by orange as the fires are witnessed from orbit. A picture of a world in crisis, a world which has only so recently been invaded, but far more pressingly, a world whose own side has bombarded to achieve ultimate victory. A world framed by the evidence of acts most unnatural, floating hulks, the scorch marks of turbolaser batteries long since made icy cold, as inert star destroyers, cruisers, frigates, corvettes, and even small abandoned starfighters map along the vacuum of space, of many makes and classes, of two separate allegiances.

Such is the sight that greets the relief fleet, a fleet of a singular purpose only.

To restore order upon Sluis Van.

They are ghostly vessels, the ships that lay cold and still along the orbit of Sluis Van. As questions are quietly asked of what exactly had happened, as rumors abound of what exactly the Emperor had done here, words begin to matter less and less, as orders and commands fly out from various bridges.

The crews of these mighty vessels may have otherwise disappeared, but the ships themselves hold much value, both those of the Sith and the Alliance. If they are to be used as scrap or requisitioned for the building of the Second Legion shall be determined later, but at this moment as the relief fleet’s hulls are filled to the brim with secondary crews, captains order expeditions off to investigate the condition of the vessels. Their tasks are simple, to bring in any survivors of the battle, to secure every part of the ship, and to determine the safety of the vessels for requisition.

It is expected to be an easy mission. Yet, all know no plan survives contact with the enemy, and though the enemy is in retreat or otherwise dead, as the first expeditions reach their targets they will find that they are far from alone.

And that the spectres that remain are hardly happy to see them.

Sluis Van is in flames. Once one of the jewels of the Rimward Trade League, the Sith have made evident their care for such a title or position, much of the population lay dead, if for small mercies the orbital bombardment of the Escobar made their deaths quick. Yet, as is expected for a world, a world of such importance equally much of the population survived, those that survived the apocalypse as their cities burned, those of the periphery out in the fields and nature, spared much of the horrors that their urban cousins had to experience.

Yet, what is left of them is hardly a pretty sight. Anarchy has claimed Sluis Van, and any Sith rule upon the world has been thrown off, as factions battle across the world. Most remember the rule of the Rimward Trade League, and ideas dispense that if the Sith have abandoned the world, then their opportunity has come. All the while, others, joined by small groups of Alliance personnel unable to evacuate the world, press for them to go underground, confident that the Alliance will return for them. While the most fanatical of them, those touched by the Eternalist pantheon, and many others affected by the ritual in orbit, have grown frenzied, crazy, insane, as blood runs rivers down the ruined, burning cities.

And such is the sight that greets the Sith as they make landfall upon the capital.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Episode VI: Last Taungsday Night
The Objective (aka what they are supposed to be doing):
Sort Darth Caedes trash Salvage usable materials for the glory of the Sith to make some cash
Secondary Objective (aka what they're actually doing):
Party like its 899
Naamino Zuukamano Maiza Vex
[ lightsaber ] [ field com ]

[ obligatory post theme ]​

Aboard the mighty and fearsome salvage ship Bantha Fart...

"The name of the ship is Reclamator Two-Eight-Cresh!"

Salvage ships were the garbage trucks of any fleet. Necessary, but if you were to ask any random stormtrooper on the street, they'd probably go wait, we have salvage ships? They weren't glamorous. The mission wasn't sexy. And they weren't pizza-shaped like star destroyers -- and lets be real, pizza will never not be cool.

They were also largely automated with droid crews since the task of sorting through debris and wreckage for usable materials was a pretty menial task. Which was also probably why a group of Sith Academy students from Korriban had been put on garbage duty, given that they weren't exactly on the Sith Lord's honor roll list at the moment.

This was probably the Dark Side of detention.

Nevermind, most of the pieces that they were sorting through were from ships that had been under the command of their dark lord...

In any case, the droid master of the Sith vessel Reclamator 28-Cresh could not even with this student crew.

"Too late. New head canon. It's done," the cat stated flatly. The boy was dressed in an EVA suit, which was also too big for him, with the helmet open as he stood atop a pile of scrap metal and hull fragments that had been tractored into a cargo hold. Music echoed off the walls and an object that he'd learned was known as a disco ball glittered from the rafters overhead.

He'd wanted to do something to try and encourage Naami to relax, but he honestly wasn't sure what that was or would look like. A party had been suggested, he didn't recall by who, but the cat was fairly certain that he and Naami had different ideas of what constituted a party. This, of course, necessitated empirical research into the topic, but there didn't seem much academic work in the area so he'd resorted to talking to friends.

Well, he really didn't have any friends. Other than Naami. He had some Sith classmates he was acquainted with, but they were more so a connection through Naami.

There was Kivah but that was different. She was Cathar.

What he'd come to realize through interviews with the available research subjects was that what constituted a party seemed both contextual and also very personalized. For himself, the cat would have been happy with an abundant supply of root beer, nerf jerky, and holo games. But that didn't seem like Naami. So, swinging toward a more social aspect of what he'd learned, the cat had endeavored to transform the salvage ship into a party boat.

Which, apparently involved playing extremely chaotic music at excessive volume. And snacks. And, according to Gavin Vel , also involved a substance known as Mad Duros 20/20.

A series of holographic bubbles formed in front of the kit, illuminated by the Sith badge that he wore on the right side of his suit. Glancing away to see how the Iridonian was doing for a moment, the cat's amber eyes flicked back to discover a reading that stood out from the others.

"Huh," he uttered aloud, mostly talking to himself. Spending an excessive amount of time in alchemy labs was known to result in such behavior. "There's a material here that doesn't match."

Following the reading, the cat strolled through the debris until he'd arrived at a rather oddly shaped section of a hull which obviously was quite different from the surrounding detrius.

"I think it could be a piece of an Alliance ship."

 

[Darth Moskvin]

REDACT

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
TAG: Oleander Webb | Adeline Noctua | Open

Reports of Sulis Van poured in durning the aftermath of the battle which had taken place between the Sith Order’s First Legion and the Galactic Alliance. The Dread Wolf had often wondered if the tales of why had taken place were exaggerated. He needed, wanted, to see the results for himself. Gerwald would not travel alone into the space between the veil. Oleander Webb was at his side, the specter of death itself, always his shadow. This time the world they ventured into was not suited for them both. Another was needed with more expertise in what may lay in wait. Adeline Noctua had been called on to assist. Her take on death was different from Oleander’s. Both were needed.

If the reports had not been exaggerated, the creations and machinations of other Sith would litter what remained of the battlefield. Gerwald hated evidence which spoke of otherworldly things. It reminded him too much of the Nocna Mora which held his mate captive for more than a decade. While the Dread Wolf could never deny the existence of places which were more real than philosophical idealism, he did not have to like it.

Such places had colored his view of the various religions people held. Gerwald’s experience in the force had shown him that there was nothing supernatural to be worshiped. There were those who used the force to draw a following as though they were a god. There were even those who worshiped the force itself. This also irritated the Lupo.

The ship which carried the Wolf and his cohorts dropped out of hyperspace. Gerwald stood on the bridge of his ship, looking out over the scene which was arrayed in front of him. Debris from shattered ships drifting like cosmic wreckage in the cold void filled his view. Scattered fragments of once-powerful warships now floated as twisted metal carcasses, the remnants of explosive clashes still glowing faintly in the dark.

“Find a vessel which is mostly still intact,” the Dread Wolf commanded as he vacated the bridge. His attention turned to those walking at his wake. “We will board one of these ships and see what remains for ourselves. Then we will find a way to close the wound which remains.”

 

[Jhyrack]

Jhyrack's fist connected solidly with the face of a Sluissi guard. The weight behind that fist felled the guard. Jhyrack strode forwards. The minotaur picked up the sluissi by the tail and swung it at a wall.

The sluissi were heavy, muscular creatures, but the maldrani were enormous. It was not the size that made his warhost fearsome. It was that on their home planet they were one of the smallest species. Their mountainous world was a deadly environment. It had forged a deadly warrior race.

"Advance."

His host rushed past him. A collection of Alliance loyalists had holed up in an industrial sector of the city. He would rip every last one of them out of their stronghold.

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Úlfs Reiði

Tag | Gerwald Lechner Oleander Webb

She had entered the bridge, gazing out at the wreckage as Gerwald spoke. It was.. A sight to be sure. It was no wonder the corpse barges always seemed to come back full to Yalara. For a moment she becomes lost in thought, pondering upon the wreckage before her as if it were a canvas, and she the painter.

Adeline was perhaps the epitome of what annoyed the Lupo, be it thanks to her growing cults within the core worlds where she was worshiped as a goddess of nightmare itself.. Or be it from her special nature, for she was not fully a being of this plain of existence. A more eldritch and shadowy figure, who's goals seemed to be unknown to all.

Perhaps Gerwald knew of these things, perhaps his keen senses could tell her movements were a mimicry to hide what she truly was. To her however this was not important, she had been formally requested to assist in this little expedition after all... It would be rather unladylike to let petty differences get in the way.

"The silence is but a trick, the dead are much louder than you would expect."

She states before continuing.

"Have you any experience in the occult, Mr Lechner?"

The woman asks in her unnaturally calm voice, continuing to walk alongside while waiting for a response.







​

 

[Credius Nargath]

Appearance: [X]
Equipment: [X][X][X][X][X][X][X] | Forces [X]
Ship: The Usurper
Tag: Gerwald Lechner | Adeline Noctua | Oleander Webb
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The whole mess at Sluis Van had been partially Credius' own fault. He knew this and he acknowledged this, for had he not been part of the ritual the Great Corpse Emperor had enacted and had he thus not been partially responsible for the haunting nature of the space surrounding the planet?

Yes, the answer was yes, he had his part in the releasing of what could have been described as a pure and unfiltered aspect of endless hunger and it was exactly because of this, that the abomination, the monstrous man who saw himself as an avatar of the insatiable hunger, felt no pity nor remourse for any who had been too slow or too foolish to remain within the reach of that...thing.

"Hunger is everlasting, the kind of Hunger which would drive those with weaker minds and weaker wills to madness," The Sith Lord looked through the transparisteel windows of the command deck, droids working the comms and maintaining the Usurper's slow and steady course through the graveyard of ships. It was a rather strange thing to witness, with so many ships either ravaged, nibbled at or eaten from, others seemed fairly intact, but one thing was certain...true 'life' was no longer present, that had all been snuffed out, consumed and laid to the wayside. There was no life, but strangely so...there also did not seem to be any sign of death either; no corpses floating through space, no frozen or burned remnants of sith, jedi, commando or trooper alike. "Keep this course."

"Master, a vessel is within reach...it is...functional," One of the droids tilted their head upwards, with the Sceleratis present walking over and looking down at the screen, nodding towards the Lord of Hunger as the information seemed to be correct.

"One of ours?" Surely he wouldn't have been the only one trying to have a gander at the brutal carnage, the soulless remains of a battle that was without soul to begin with. When the confirmational nod came from the Sceleratis again, Credius turned his attention back towards the space beyond the windows. "Hail them... Open up a communication link..."

"Master...the signature, the specifics of the vessel...it is the Wolf..." The Droid nodded again, with the Sceleratis once more confirming the validity of the droid's findings. Yet, even so...the attempt to hail Gerwald Lechner and his ship was made.

"Great Fenrir, it is quite the surprise to see you here in this godforsaken graveyard," The monster's voice was soothing, yet hollow, raspy, yet honneyed, having aspects of the man he once was and the abomination he had turned into. Yet, even so...his tone was...respectful and Credius seemed to be somewhat surprised to the Wolf's presence, especially since he expected that if the Wolf were present, there would be others from the higher echelons...or perhaps more likely there would be those who were more akin to the strangeness and the absolutely unholy nature of this graveyard and the tear in the fabric of space which was still felt through the force. "This place and the place beyond are not kind to those who still have warm blood running through their veins."

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Gerwald Lechner | Adeline Noctua | Credius Nargath

Death didn't need to gaze over the wreckage they approached to sense there was more to it than what met the eye. He leaned against one of the bridge's many terminals, watching the crew with feigned interest. Another of Oleander's kind might've taken some sort of pleasure watching those weak of heart squirm under his scrutiny, but he did not relish in such cruelty on this day.

His interests lie in a sensation he could only describe as hunger grew in the base of his skull. It was unlike the one that usually pervaded his senses, that which ruled the body Death chose to inhabit. No, this one was different. Subtler, yet no less pertinent. It was that sensation that put almost a pep in his step as Gerwald turned to leave the bridge, Oleander pushing off his not-so-comfortable post to join the wolf.

He was not the only one to join his employer. While Oleander wasn't so prideful to take offense in another joining in this endeavor, he had to wander why both this newcomer and Gerwald himself had taken an interest in this anomaly, for he'd little doubt the support would be necessary, even if the reports were founded. Still, if it meant less work for him, he could focus on other, more interesting, matters.

Death stifled a snort at the woman's question. Some myths (and some holovids) would claim both he and the Wolf as creatures of the supernatural. His cool gaze zeroed in on Gerwald, curious as to what his response would be. He was about to answer himself when one of the crew approached, informing the trio of the attempted contact. Yet another to join them on this graveyard stroll.

"You take care of that, I'll ensure the ship's ready to go," he offered, continuing past the Wolf and off to the hangar. He offered no complaint should the pale woman choose to join him, only a short nod of acknowledgement. Hurry up and wait. His favorite.

The boarding shuttle was indeed ready when the full group was once again gathered. Oleander once again took on a lounging position as the shuttle would lurch into movement. His mind was elsewhere, trying to pinpoint the growing sensation, the growing hunger.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
TAG: Oleander Webb | Adeline Noctua | Credius Nargath | Open

Gerwald had never been referred to as Mr. Lechner. There was a formality to it which seemed to be even greater than being referred to as Lord or Master. He had largely preferred a more familiar and casual approach to those he interacted with, however, he understood the need for the separation and distance which such professional discourse often created. In this sense, the attempt was to draw an answer which would allow them to get to know each other, or at least understand each other.

Her question was an interesting topic considering what was rumored to be among the wreckage. His eyes shifted to his shadow. Oleander would likely smirk if he were a bit more human, but the gaze which Gerwald caught remained as unmoved as ever. This was not the Anzat caught in a feeding frenzy, but rather the steady companion, the shadow of death.

“I come from a superstitious world. I have experience with many forms of pagan and occult practices. The Dark Ones, which my people battled for decades until the Confederacy helped us destroy them, were chief among them.”

It was an answer and no answer at once. Gerwald was uncommitted, but offered enough to see where she was trying to go with her line of questioning.

As they neared the door, the hail came through. The Dread Wolf closed his eyes and sighed as the greeting played over the comm. There was only one individual which referred to him as the Great Fenrir, a name Gerwald was not certain he was fond of. There was an irony to it however, so he did not fault the man for using it.

Oleander spoke.

“Yes, ensure the shuttle is ready, and I will be there momentarily. We shall see if Credius Nargath is here to offer his support, or if he is here as competition.”

Gerwald could never tell with the man.

He leaned closer to Oleander, bringing his words to a whisper.

“Ensure our guest is comfortable. The happenings here need to be resolved, and the damage needs to be assessed. My connection to Darth Empyrean may compromise me. I need to help fix this, or distance myself. I will take advice from you both at the end of this.”

With that he turned on his heels and moved toward his usual station he occupied while on the bridge.

“Answer the hail.”

Credius’ image appeared, a holo projection.

“Just because I am flesh and blood, it does not mean I shy away from such places. I have ventured beyond the veil before, and I am certain I shall do so again before my time among the living has come to an end.”

Their pleasantries seemed to be exchanged for the moment.

“You were here when this occurred, yes? I was about to venture to a nearby ship to seek answers. Will you be accompanying us now that you are here?”

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link, Borrowed Stun Gauntlets
Tags
Maiza Vex Gavin Vel Kivah Leshanna

​

It had been a rough week or so for the zabrak. A crash landing after what he thought was going to be one of the best moments of his young life, growing pains the likes of which made his shins ache and had him wishing he could sleep for 12 hours a day, not to mention being assigned to glorified trash duty. It made him even grumpier to think that this dumb side quest took him away from his studies and the remedial flight classes he'd recently signed up for after finding a random flier. To say he was irritated was an understatement but the boy generally kept his foul mood under wraps, his natural tendency toward quiet stoicism just coming across a bit darker of late.

Naami shuffled a bit, kicking his feet through junk a bit as if to sort it, closeby to and similarly dressed as Micah tol Powl but with his own personal effects. He'd sullenly read the inventory his cathar friend provided on what they might expect to salvage, his dour mood having hardly lightened when they arrive nor when the scene was set with music and party lights. The cat's comment did draw a chuckle out of him though, the first sign of mirth he'd show in a while.

"Like a buncha gonk droids trapped in this big fart…" he grumbled under his breath.

Slung over his shoulder was a big sturdy canvas bag that he'd been steadily stuffing full of disparate tech parts and various wires that appeared to hold some kind of value. When Micah murmured to himself and began to move though, the zabrak was suddenly on high alert.

"Careful-" he warned in a low tone, "How do we know the Alliance stuff hasn't been porg-trapped?"

Naami's entire form suddenly radiated concern and curiosity while his fists clenched as if he was ready to active his borrowed gauntlets at any sign of trouble. It was like the boy was subconsciously itching for a fight to vent off some of his barely contained emotions.

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Shuttle

Tag | Gerwald Lechner Oleander Webb Credius Nargath

Formal was indeed a way to describe the woman, always keeping an apathetic smugness about herself. She would of course listen to his answer, arms behind her back as she waited for a polite opening between Gerwald and the other on the line.

"Walking into one of many beyonds, oft leaves a mark on a man. It is easy for me to see, leaves a mark on the soul... If you trust my word on such a thing."

For Adeline, she had walked many paths, be they the nether or realms normally beyond the understand of a mortal mind.

"I will be in the shuttle with the other one, Mr Lechner."

She gives a simple curtsey before taking a spot in the shuttle for herself, taking a seat across from Oleander Webb she gazes at them with her glowing Golden amber eyes. She gives them a calm smile, it would be easy for them to know Adeline was no mortal woman. For she could tell this was no mortal man, her eyes and mind able to see and understand what normally remained coated within a veil.

"Have you enjoyed being within the flesh of a man?"

She asks Oleander, a creeping expression of humor trickling in as her small smile grew a little... The woman found something amusing.





​

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Gerwald Lechner | Adeline Noctua | Credius Nargath

Oleander rose a brow at Gerwald's whispered command, incredulous. What was he, a butler to the wolf? The only comfort he knew of bringing was the end, something he very much doubted would be helpful in the given moment. You know you're going to have to expand on how this is compromising when you're done with whoever that is. The telepathic communication was easier than a whisper, even at the risk of tone.

The walk to the hangar bay itself had been silent, save for giving quick commands to the nearby crew. They would handle the actual shuttle prep. A few moments after Oleander slid into his seat, he pulled out a datapad, the slight upwards curve that pulled at his mouth gone almost as soon as the muscles thought to tug as a name popped up on the screen.

The Wolf really finds the most interesting missions. Talk soon?​

He keyed in the reply to Lunara Azure , stowing the device as soon as he confirmed the message had sent. Now wasn't the time to split his concentration, even if his job had been delegated to 'ensuring comfort' in the given moment.

His gaze rose to meet gold as his current charge sat down. The minutia of physical details were getting harder and harder to identify as time went on but he could still make out the striking color amongst the dark and pale. There was something more to her than the presence most Sith possessed even on their worst days. Her presence, her mind, would no doubt be an interesting flavor should he ever get to sample it. Not quite a similar flavor to what he imagined he carried, but something close enough for the untrained to draw a connection.

His brow furrowed when she spoke. Had he influence over the ship's temperature (or had he cared enough to attempt so), it would've gone cold by a few degrees. Ah, so the peculiar feel he got was not misplaced. And as he weighed the available responses - hard denial, acceptance, threats... - Death found curiosity to be his primary motivation.

"It serves, for a time. As all flesh does, one way or another. In time, it'll be laid to rot and I shall have what's due to me. The same for all, even those who would thwart me." His eyes narrowed a fraction, further scrutinizing the woman. "And what of you?"

 

[Credius Nargath]

Appearance: [X]
Equipment: [X][X][X][X][X][X][X] | Forces [X]
Ship: The Usurper
Tag: Gerwald Lechner | Adeline Noctua | Oleander Webb
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With his emblem of the golden eagle glistening in the light of the holoprojector on the command deck, the Lord of Hunger made a gentle nod as acknowledgement when Gerwald Lechner allowed the communications to open up between them. All the while though, the Great Wolf's ship would find itself practically right in front of the much larger, menacing Usurper...which at this point was an old, but still powerful battle cruiser, yet no weapons would be aimed at Gerwald's ship.

"Hmm," While his eyes and face were not visible due to the mask he wore as part of his battle armor, the tone of his voice showed that the abomination within the force was rather amused with the Great Fenrir's response. "I am aware of your nature and your character, these were but words of warning, an advice of caution for those who have not witnessed first hand the things that took place here."

The Lord of Hunger remembered the scene all too well, if he had dawdled a bit longer, if his facination had won out over his self-preservation, He himself might have ended up just like all those poor saps that weren't all too quick on the uptake: as nothing but a memory. Still, what he had seen was quite the show, the tearing of the fabric of space and time, the way through the ritual the very boundaries of the force itself were torn open and reshapen, revealing an entity of nothing but the purest form of hunger and gluttony.

"You will have my assistance," The monstrous man nodded with a stiff neck, holding up his hand to emphasize his words. "If you have any questions, do not be affraid to ask, Great Fenrir... for only those that have cast aside their humanity are capable of understanding the very insanity that took hold here and the madness that the Emperor brought to bear upon not just this world, but this galaxy as a whole."

It was perhaps unfair to state that the Gerwald would know less about the nature and the insanity of the ritual that had taken place, but it was no lie to claim that besides himself and a handful of others present, most that had bore witness to the result of the ritual, were in no shape both physically nor mentally to explain it in proper detail and without any holes in their memory.

 

[Lord Dvasius]

As dropships and fighters rained down on whatever populated areas of the planet were left a group flew over a forest surrounding a charred city. More like the bleeding and burning skeleton of a city. On their way soldiers did their usual weapons checks and loading that took, like the whole ride to finish for some reason. Lord Dvasius aboard one of the shuttles watched with boredom. Monotonous repetition. Finally the pilot made the announcement.

"Approaching the drop point."

"Finally. Anybody know what the weakness of inferiors is?"

A lot of confused faces and shaking heads looked back at him, except the couple other Sith in the back. The soldiers were all, of course, just regular Sith-Imperials, forceless. The actual Sith stood in the back. Not just Sith, Tsis-Kaar, same as him. They walked forward to the door behind the Lord. He turned around and stepped back a couple steps as it opened. Dvasius did his own last minute check, loading a last Shikkar blade into his wrist gauntlet. It clicked in.

"Arrogance. They don't know they're your inferiors. Everyone has an ego. Time to check 'em."

The Tsis-Kaar onboard jumped out after him. The ship kept going as they fell a couple hundred feet above buildings. The force cushioned their fall as the hit ground, each in a crouch. Lightsabers in hands flew to their sides, igniting three red blades. As they stood they looked around. It looked like they were surrounded. Alliance encouraged resistance, most likely. They were already in tatters. weak, shaking from shellshock, but they stood their ground with stoic, angry faces. Lord Dvasius made a sharp, unimpressed sniff in his nose. Blaster shots echoed.

A handful of resistance soldiers fell to their knees, dead. Sith snipers, under direct command of the Tsis-Kaar fired from in and on top of buildings surrounding the open... what used to be a plaza. Disoriented, the soldiers looked around, trying to find the shooters. They didn't notice the drop ship flying over again, dropping Imperial soldiers in a large circle around the Sith Lords. The locals were really shaken now as they looked back to their enemy staggeringly multiplied. Not as many as the Alliance resistance men, but far better trained and battle hardened. Fools throw flesh endlessly at their problems hoping they'll be solved when the dust clears, but better training often prevails in the end. Quality over quantity, as the saying goes.

From inside the circle of Imperial men Lord Dvasius raised his lightsaber pointing at the enemy.

"Educate them their place..."

Imperial blaster fire echoed, burning through their resistance like red fire, spreading out in a circle, "On their knees."

They dropped like flies as minutes passed and more soldiers further encircled them from behind. The Sith joined in the chaos as well, of course. Dvasius cut a man in half, shoulder to hip, at the same time deflecting his shot to the ground. Another man charged out from behind his dead friend, but the Sith reacted right before the second he fired and force pushed him backwards into some rubble. His body twisted and broke over it. Lightsaber spun as it switched hands while the Sith turned around quickly. A strong bolt of Force Lightning took another man off his feet and sizzling into the background. Lightsaber back in the right hand spun at his side and another blaster bolt hit between the feet of Dvasius and some random, unnamed rebel. Before the man could even make a shocked or frightened expression on his face a plasma blade embedded itself into him, cutting through his shoulder, chest, stomach, hip, but not all the way out. The blade spun again taking his head off.

After quite some time of screaming and bleeding, barrels went quiet. Cooling as the Sith-Imperial forces under the Tsis-Kaar's command checked to make sure all enemies willing to fight were going cold in the dirt and those that weren't were "imprisoned". Reasonably sure, the combat force moved to the next objective on the map. Apparently that was the least of it and the forested wilds were full of even more "unruly animals".

They reached the edge where duracrete met woods. The area before them was darkened by the last of tall buildings and high trees. A scared man stood up from sitting in the dirt, against a building wall and tried to run.

"Kill him.", Dvasius said with calm quickness.

Blaster shot cracked and echoed as red light dropped him promptly to the ground with a quiet thud. The march didn't stop and the small army continued past his corpse. About 40 or so paces further they halted, stopped at the exact edge where the forest actually began. Under the shadow of trees Dvasius looked forward, inside, through thick bushes and branches.

"Yep. Everywhere.", the Lord said, able to sense plenty of warm bodies ahead.

The soldier right behind and beside him snapped his head toward the Sith with a surprised and fearful look, shocked at how casually he said that. Dvasius barely turned his head to see him and scoffed quietly as the soldier tightened grip on his rifle, composed himself and raised it in the direction of the trees, trying his best to look brave. The Sith looked back ahead of them.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Episode VI: Last Taungsday Night
Naamino Zuukamano
[ lightsaber ] [ field com ]

[ run the chromium ]​

As the boy drew closer, the readings confirmed the presence of chromium -- not a substance used in the construction of Sith vessels -- but, intriguingly, an additional reading came up on the analysis that the cat was even more curious of.

"Fascinating..." the boy mused aloud.

"Careful-"

Startled by the interruption, the kit was roused from his musings and returned to reality. Turning his head, the amber-eyed Cathar glanced over at the Iridonian teen.

"There's chromium here!" the boy announced, a smile lighting up his face as he turned back to the scorched and blackened hull fragment. Now only was chromium rare and valuable for its properties as a rather expensive hull plating -- pimp my star destroyer kind of vibe -- but it was also used in currency. If they could melt it down into bars, that would likely get them...

...well, enough credits for a few meals at McYodas and some new comic books to say the least.

"How do we know the Alliance stuff hasn't been porg-trapped?"

Why did he have to go and say the p-word. The cat felt his mouth start to water as visions of southern fried porg danced in his eyes. With that limited time McYodas sithxian sauce... "I wish... some porg would be amazing right now," the cat replied, with probably an excess of cheer for a kid wading up to his waist in space garbage. "But, seriously, this ship has literally been, like, blasted apart. I think it's fine."

There was some merit to Naami's thinking. Statistically speaking, there was at least a small probability that there could be unexploded ordnance if one of these fragments contained a weapons locker or some section of a torpedo room, but the scanners ought to be picking up the detonators or at least the materials comprising the detonators...

...of course, with this much alchemized durasteel from the Sith vessels, it could be blocking the sensor...

Shaking his head, the cat forced himself to stay on task.

They weren't just risking their lives for the Sith. They were risking their lives for a Sith ton of chromium!

And that wasn't all.

"Plus, I'm getting some readings that indicate an organic residue," the cat remarked, starting to pick his way around the fragment. Glancing back at Naami with a surplus of energy, the boy opined, "Maybe its parts of bodies! Wouldn't that be cool!?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
TAG: Oleander Webb | Adeline Noctua | Credius Nargath

Gerwald understood more than the woman knew. Had she known his story, his history, she would know the marks which blotched the Dread Wolf’s soul. He was not who he was because of success, but rather the wounds which he carried. His own self anchored his mate to the world. One fear he would never utter was that the end of his life would bring the end of hers. It was why he continued to be better, to be the strongest. If he died, did she? Naedira Darcrath was still the reason Gerwald pursued strength.

His head nodded. She would be in the shuttle with Oleander.

The Wolf grinned as he heard the voice of his own shadow break through the barrier of his mind. Gerwald allowed few beyond the walls he built. Oleander was among them.

<< “I think I just said I would be seeking your advice when this is done," >> Gerwald answered, wishing his tone could carry a cheeky color to it. << “Our guest… we do not know them. Your keen eye and vigilance is needed.” >>

Gerwald did not think he needed to mention the fact he confided in the Anzat about his potentially compromised position. This was something they would discuss later when their guest was no longer with them. They needed her guidance through whatever was before them. Though the hail may have given the Wolf another option.

The monster seemed as smug as he had always been, and yet this time, there was an edge of concern to the corners of his words.

“Your assistance is appreciated. I seek to correct it. You offered on Echnos if I remember correctly. If the offer still stands, join us. I will send you the coordinates.”

Gerwald did not wait for an answer, he gave the man the plotted landing zone. He nodded before the comm was closed off. Turning on his heels, he made his way to the shuttle bay where the others were waiting for him. The ramp closed behind him.

“We are ready,” he said to the pilot before taking his seat. “Lord Nargath is joining us.”

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Shuttle

Tag | Gerwald Lechner Oleander Webb Credius Nargath

It was clear that his answer satisfied her, Adeline keeping an almost emotionless face with a hint of a smile. If anyone could decipher her facial expressions it would be him, the way she did anything always seemed like a mimicry of mortal men. It gave her an uncanny effect that many felt, but to her and him.. Such a thing was far from a mimicry. One could say it was normality in a way... If such a thing existed for beings such as her and him.

"What of I?"

Adeline asks, her question laced with a faint taste of humor.

"The truth lies with who you ask, as does most things."

While not a clear answer, it was indeed true. One could be given the sweetest of dreams, while the other a waking nightmare that drives them to insanity.

"I can't say I expected to find you on vacation, at least this would be a fitting place to find you in."

She giggles a bit, turning her attention to Gerwald as he caught up with them.

"And we are to trust our help?"

Adeline asks Gerwald after he spoke, this being a Sith occasion the questioned lined more up with if they were killing whoever this was or not.









​

 

[Maiza Vex]

Theme: Six Shooter
Tags: Micah tol Powl | Naamino Zuukamano

---

"Maybe its parts of bodies! Wouldn't that be cool!?"

"Well, aren't you a sick little freak?" Her voice echoed down to their ears from up in the ceiling bulkheads. Perched in the rafters two golden eyes peered down at them, next to the peach skinned figure in an environmental suit was an open lunch box that Maiza had stolen from some poor unsuspecting student in this trash heap. She pulled an orange out and began to peel it.

"What about you horn boy, you into body parts too?" She had seen both of them around and at the races, but she didn't really know either of them. Maiza hadn't really gotten to know anyone since arriving at the prison called an academy. It was a prison I mean this day she had been sentenced to hard labor after all. Having to pick through junk for someone else's profit for her labor.

She had no intention of letting some else profit off of her. So instead, she found herself some food and a nice perch away from work and away from prying eyes except these two body part enthusiasts who had happened by. She tossed the peels of the orange down aiming for Micah tol Powl open helmet. She took a bite into the juicy orange, it dribbling down her chin a bit as she did so.

"I heard cat's will eat anything when they are starving." She reached into the lunch box and pulled out a peanut butter sandwich which she looked at disgustingly. "Here Catch." She said tossing the sandwich at Naamino Zuukamano . "Peanut butter is frakking gross, but in case you don't find any body parts for your pet to eat you can feed him that." She was teasing the little cather a bit, from way back in her family blood line their was some cather dna in her or so her father had said but he was a pirate and they were notorious for making chit up. "Your survival might depend on it."

 

[Oleander Webb]

WEARING: X
WIELDING: X | X
TAG: Gerwald Lechner | Adeline Noctua | Credius Nargath

Something changed in the other's face though Oleander couldn't make out the specifics. Taking on the mantle of Death had given him access to a multitude of boons, but didn't stop his own body from failing. One could even wonder if perhaps the mantle and its strain were adding to his vision's decay.

"Then how would each answer?"

Death scoffed at the mention of vacation. A physical avatar did not stop Death from collecting elsewhere, as seen by the rest of the galaxy still moving, still dying. "This is work as much as anything is."

When Gerwald joined them, Oleander's posture straightened only a fraction. He was far from worried about keeping up appearances when it came to the Wolf. They'd worked together long enough that he sincerely doubted an issue would arise from how he carried himself outside of combat (except in regards to his hunger, of course). Plus, it granted the Wolf a further visual aid as to who called the shots. "What do we know of this Lord Nargath?"

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link, Borrowed Stun Gauntlets​

An instant darkness fell over Naami's expression when Micah tol Powl mentioned body parts. The kit's excitement juxtaposed his instant icy response however and for a moment he was caught between the strangeness of being relatively safe, in good company, with bumping music all around, and the sudden pit that had formed in his stomach at being presented with the wreckage of Alliance brutality.

"Guess it wouldn't be surprising," he grumbled darkly.

But those first taunting words from Maiza Vex caused Naami's head to snap up in her direction, a proper scowl fully forming. His incredibly short fuse was suddenly lit. The zabrak batted away orange peels mid-arc before the offending vegetation could sully his friend's hood. Large blue eyes narrowed as the girl continued to goad and all at once the boy's temper reached a boiling point. He snatched the flung sandwich and crushed it with one gauntleted hand, pointing with the other and barking a challenge back up at her.

"You're a gonk-brained idiot if you think you can talk to him like that."

Then, with far more venom than he'd hollered in basic, Naami growled a threat in his mother tongue of Irodinian. Dropping the crumpled sandwich at his side while he readied to activate the stun gauntlets.

"So much as look at us the wrong way again and I'll crush you myself, half-blood!"