Cedric Grayson
Ashlan Kaiser
Dreshdae
Deciding whether their assault on Korriban was a victory or not came down to the individual. On paper, their objectives were more or less achieved. The forces of the Sith empire were hunted down, many imprisoned, others killed, and the places of knowledge on the accursed world purged of anything they might have had to offer. Korriban, for better or worse, had lost its teeth for the time being. That being said, the Maw and its sycophants had made off with much of that supposedly purged knowledge, and as far as the Crusade and its allies knew, succeeded in whatever it was they had come to the Sith homeworld for.
The ritual the Ashlans uncovered had been attempted, though the results were far less than desired. Rather than cleansing the dark heart of the Sith academy, the ritual had failed entirely in the hands of Cedric. The power the Ashlan priests had gathered sputtered out uselessly within his very flesh, its cleansing energies muted into nothingness just as they reached their climax. Serving as the projector for for ritual, Cedric suffered a clean blow straight through his right leg, severing the limb and ruining the ritual before it could come to its inclusion. Momentarily thwarted, those within the chamber had retreated briefly, and in that time the Maw too absconded from the world.
On paper they succeeded. In reality, they had only bloodied Korriban's nose rather than killing it in its entirety.
The Ashlan fleet and elements of its allies' own lingered quietly over the world. Many had already returned to their home nations, though a few remained to scavenge what they could from the Sith homeworld. A meager occupation force remained on the planet, though their purpose was less to govern the populace so much as to protect the archaeological dig sites and the various government teams combing through the population centers for any knowledge that might prove useful. There were talks of the possible demolition of the Sith academy and the valley of the dark lord as a whole, but guerilla remnants of the Sith army made such operations impossible.
The whole endeavor was proving to be too expensive to maintain much longer. For the Crusade's part, they would need to return to their own realms to consolidate power. Soon, Korriban would be abandoned once again.
Cedric looked over the remains of the Sith Academy from his temporary quarters in Dreshdae. He sat alone atop the balcony, a glass of Balmoraan Bluesky quickly warming in his hand as he flexed the toes of his cybernetic limb for what must have been the hundredth time in the last hour. The Maw warrior that had removed his leg had the courtesy to do so just below the knee, and a robotic replacement was relatively easy to come by given the relatively clean cut. It would take some time to grow used to the change - perhaps he never would. Either way, it would serve as a constant reminder of the ritual's failure, and of
Darth Solipsis
slipping through his fingers once again.
For a moment, a quiet fury arose within the exile with a heat matching that of the sun beating down upon his shaven head, though it quickly melted away to apathy. There was little point in getting upset about something he couldn't change.
Auteme
Deciding whether their assault on Korriban was a victory or not came down to the individual. On paper, their objectives were more or less achieved. The forces of the Sith empire were hunted down, many imprisoned, others killed, and the places of knowledge on the accursed world purged of anything they might have had to offer. Korriban, for better or worse, had lost its teeth for the time being. That being said, the Maw and its sycophants had made off with much of that supposedly purged knowledge, and as far as the Crusade and its allies knew, succeeded in whatever it was they had come to the Sith homeworld for.
The ritual the Ashlans uncovered had been attempted, though the results were far less than desired. Rather than cleansing the dark heart of the Sith academy, the ritual had failed entirely in the hands of Cedric. The power the Ashlan priests had gathered sputtered out uselessly within his very flesh, its cleansing energies muted into nothingness just as they reached their climax. Serving as the projector for for ritual, Cedric suffered a clean blow straight through his right leg, severing the limb and ruining the ritual before it could come to its inclusion. Momentarily thwarted, those within the chamber had retreated briefly, and in that time the Maw too absconded from the world.
On paper they succeeded. In reality, they had only bloodied Korriban's nose rather than killing it in its entirety.
The Ashlan fleet and elements of its allies' own lingered quietly over the world. Many had already returned to their home nations, though a few remained to scavenge what they could from the Sith homeworld. A meager occupation force remained on the planet, though their purpose was less to govern the populace so much as to protect the archaeological dig sites and the various government teams combing through the population centers for any knowledge that might prove useful. There were talks of the possible demolition of the Sith academy and the valley of the dark lord as a whole, but guerilla remnants of the Sith army made such operations impossible.
The whole endeavor was proving to be too expensive to maintain much longer. For the Crusade's part, they would need to return to their own realms to consolidate power. Soon, Korriban would be abandoned once again.
Cedric looked over the remains of the Sith Academy from his temporary quarters in Dreshdae. He sat alone atop the balcony, a glass of Balmoraan Bluesky quickly warming in his hand as he flexed the toes of his cybernetic limb for what must have been the hundredth time in the last hour. The Maw warrior that had removed his leg had the courtesy to do so just below the knee, and a robotic replacement was relatively easy to come by given the relatively clean cut. It would take some time to grow used to the change - perhaps he never would. Either way, it would serve as a constant reminder of the ritual's failure, and of
Darth Solipsis
slipping through his fingers once again.For a moment, a quiet fury arose within the exile with a heat matching that of the sun beating down upon his shaven head, though it quickly melted away to apathy. There was little point in getting upset about something he couldn't change.
Auteme
