Dominion Return to Susevfi || Sith Order Dominion of Susevfi Hex

[Aspect of Defiance]

Susevfi once the capital of the Rimward Trade League, remained unclaimed in the aftermath of the Sith Order invasion which had left the planet devastated. The capitol building remained a heap of ruins after Darth Empyrean had single handedly brought the structure down upon those which had remained inside. It had been a display of power and might which set the tone for the remainder of the conflicts which had brought the Trade League to their knees.

Gerwald Lechner and the Sith Order's Second Legion were tasked with bringing the remaining worlds under the banner of Sith rule. It was a task for which the Lupo Sith took immense pleasure in. His own goal of reaching Stewjon was aided by the assignment, and it was what drove him to push through despite the long absences from Jutrand, the center and capitol of the Sith Order.

The Second Legion was nearing Susevfi. An envoy had been chosen to go ahead of the many warbands which made up the terrifying raiders. Their reputation was well known. Destruction and cruelty followed them wherever they went. Worlds which would not surrender were ravaged and stripped of the precious resources they had to offer. It was a tactic designed to make those who fell victim to Lechner's raids more sympathetic to a governor which promised stability and security.

This time it seemed the planet was still reeling over the power of Empyrean himself. Why send a hound when a Princess could sway the hearts of the people. That had been the point which Quinn Varanin argued when she asked for a chance to prove herself. She was not wrong. Most of the reports which came from the planet painted a picture of a crushed people. They needed a savior, not another raid. Who better than Eshan royalty?

Quinn was the picture of grace and beauty, security and stability. Under her leadership, Susevfi could find themselves entering into a golden era. Under her guidance the capitol building would be restored, food would begin to flow to the people once more. What was rubble and ruin would be the envy of the entire sector. All it required was understanding the culture and making sure nothing was said which could be taken the wrong way.

Which did not happen.

One phrase, something which no one seemed to be able to recall, had offended and angered the populace. An uprising quickly saw the Echani princess taken captive. Word of it spread and reached the Second Legion. Their ships were now in orbit, led by an angered beast. Gerwald Lechner called upon his warbands to prepare themselves for an all out assault on Susevfi once again. They would have one chance to hand Quinn over to him, and if they did not, the world would burn.

OBJECTIVE 1: Eat a Snickers​

Whatever influencing tactics employed by the dear Echani princess seems to have backfired. The streets have taken to full revolution. Everyone considered to be Sith Order Sympathizers or Loyalists are being rounded up and executed on sight. Clear the streets. Put down the riots. Secure order and peace in the capitol.

OBJECTIVE 2: Save the Clown​

Quinn Varanin has been captured. How is that possible when she has the force you may ask? They have those stinking lizards and other force suppression items. At least she is getting a chance to fight her way to freedom. In the heart of the Capitol a fighting arena has been established where the Echani princess has been given a chance to compete against a gauntlet of contenders. The only problem is there are a lot more of them than her, and the odds of surviving the challenge are slim. Help thin the competition.

Note: Quinn's writer has graciously agreed to this plot and has requested that the rescue not be done in a one post wonder.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Save the Clown Obj 2 //:
//: Susevfi //:

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was going to be her chance to finally do something extraordinary and prove to herself and others that she was more than just a pretty thing to look at. Finally, it was an opportunity for the Princess of Eshan to be enough, to be just as remarkable as her legendary parents. The Second Legion, Gerwald, and her Godmother believed in her. They all believed in her and her moment to shine.

But that didn't happen; it wasn't what fate had planned for the Princess of Eshan.

Susevfi was a world famished and ravaged by war. Gerwald had wanted to initially bring about the Second Legion upon the world, but further investigation showed that a gentler hand was needed. Quinn saw this as an opportunity she had been waiting for to finally make a mark on the Empire. Despite the hesitation she could glean from the Commander, he agreed and heeded caution to the young Echani.

Hubris would prove to be her worst enemy.

Upon descending to the planet, the people welcomed her, but there was an air of suspicion. The Princess had arrived in garments rich enough to feed the entire planet for years to come—the populace rumbled. She aided the best she could in giving ideas for crops, even providing much-needed food by way of the Force—the populace hushed. Quinn walked with the air of a royal but the kindness of a saint until the people could only see what they least desired.

A Sith.

It was time to address the people and sway them in favor of the Empire. She had won some of their hearts while others searched for a reason to hate. The gathering she had planned with the aid of the community leaders was filled with food and mead she had brought from the second legion. People salivated but were weary about the gifts. As she approached the podium, her hands raised to welcome and convince them and ensure loyalty to the Empire. Against her better judgment, the woman allowed her influence to flow freely through the population's minds. Several were easily swayed, falling under her benevolent spell. Others, who had training in ways of the Force or were just unaffected by the woman's influence, called for her blood.

"Witch!" they shouted, pointing and distracting her. The ones she had influenced and brought to her side had their spells broken from the commotion. "Witch!" they continued to scream as torches and weapons were gathered. They were a people tired of being underfoot. "Witch! She's in our minds!"

"Stop her!"
"Imprison her!"
"Kill her!"

The shouting continued as Quinn, frightened, looked to those she assumed were allies. But as quickly as they welcomed her, they drew weapons without hesitation and opened fire. She opened her hand, aiming to stop the attack so she could at least get away to somewhere the legion could be summoned—instead, nothing happened.

A sudden surge of pain echoed through her shoulder, and her arm went limp. Her shoulder felt numb but warm and wet at the same time. She had been shot by a ballistic, one that had suddenly made her ill. "Anti-Force, you won't be mind tricking us, you karking witch," Quinn groaned as she swung to punch the man, but as she did, she was tackled by three more and forced into the dirt. Her arms were pulled to her back as shackles were strapped to her wrists, and a bag was put over her head. It was tightened, and her world went black. As she passed out from the last blow to the back of her head, a beacon would chime on the command ship of the Second Legion.

Few hours since the life beacon sounded
//: Gerwald Lechner //: Kaila Irons //:

​

A holovideo would be waiting for the Commander of the Second Legion. He would see a dark room with a single light after playing it. A figure in the center of the room would be on their knees, obviously dazed or injured. On closer inspection, the torn garments of fine cloth, with tailored silver lining and over the left collar, an insignia of Eshan Royalty.

Shuffling could be heard as several men and women came on screen. They held rudimentary weapons, some crafted by hand from leftover parts. Over their faces, masks with anti-Sith symbols, and ragged shirts. The group was quiet, while muffled whimpers came over the speakers.

"We have your witch, Wolf." a disoriented voice spoke close to the camera. Quinn had apparent signs of trauma, and it could be deduced that she was questioned extensively before the call. "Leave our world, or she will die." The camera zoomed in on the hooded, slumped figure, then quickly a hand grabbed and ripped the cover off, revealing the dirt and blood-stained face of the Princess. "Gerwald, Kaila!" she shouted, knowing full well they would be the recipients of this film. "Who said you could talk witch?!" A voice cried, and the sound of Quinn receiving the end of a blaster to her side followed.

"She dies, and her blood is on your hands, Wolf. Leave now, or we will burn the witch in forty - eight hours."

"I'm sorry, I can fix this." Quinn's muffled voice came over as the rioters tried to figure out how to turn off the recorder. Something flashed in her eyes, and seeing they were all preoccupied, Quinn suddenly worked her way up to her feet. Then, she tripped and kicked one of the men. Turning to her side, she pushed over a woman who was trying to gain control of her. Despite the twisted knots in her stomach and the throbbing headache, the Princess still had fight.

The camera would soon be knocked over as another man received a blow to his stomach from the four-inch heel. It played a few moments longer, long enough for Gerwald to see Quinn subdued. A face would consume the camera's frame, the same harsh voice yelled through the microphone.

"TIMER STARTS NOW!"

Static crackles over the screen as the video finally finishes and a timer appears in its place.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Shyrack Gunsship, departing the Úlfs Reiði
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Quinn Varanin Gerwald Lechner | OPEN

Rage. Passion. Love.

These things were all linked in strange ways among sith, and perhaps few knew this in the ways Darth Anathemous had come to know them. Seeing Quinn bound and unmasked behind the screen sent hot-cold shivers of adrenaline coursing beneath the warrior-sorceress' fair skin, gloved iron fist clenching, shaking. Where once Kaila was thought to be a rare icon of mercy and understanding among the sith, the only thoughts behind her eyes of molten gold were violent calculations. How efficiently could she kill to protect her- Eshan's princess?

Hundreds? Thousands? How many souls had these ignorant rebels doomed for spitting in the face of her kindness?

The only reason she had not ordered Echnosian ships to bombard the city till naught but ash remained, was the knowledge that the echani still lived.

Kaila wasn't sure what she felt for her. Love? companionship? gratitude? All she knew was that Quinn's life was being threatened, and it terrified her. It enraged Anathemous in such a way that, Where the wolf threatened to burn, she threatened to freeze with just how callous and merciless the deceptively dimure sorceress could be.

Some sith believed that love, compassion, attachment even, were a weakness. But they had never witnessed the consequences for threatening the heart. They had never seen the Jedi of old proven right, their fear of what a lover scorned could achieve, made manifest.

The deaths of Leven Jeyd and Serina Calis still weighed heavily on her soul. She would not lose another, she could not lose another. Quinn had called out to her, and this time, she would not allow the call to go unanswered.

"Ma'am," a lone trooper approached her.

He stopped dead in his tracks as the datapad in Anathemous' hand shattered, her icy glare threatening to do the same if his visor lingered too long.

"Your ship is ready, my lord...!"

She wasted no time in marching to the hangar, leaving the bowing soldier well behind as the thought of Quinn in danger possessed the witch-blade, carrying her into the awaiting drop ship with a handful of jumptroopers, saluting her as she entered. She ignored all else save, for the beacon's blinking location on her wrist-computer, Gripping the overhead netting with an iron grasp, standing in front of the gunship doors.

As soon as they reached the clouds, she would be the first to leap. The first to set foot on enemy shores, no matter the danger, no matter how many skulls it would take to construct a way for Quinn to climb out.

Susevfi had one chance to spare themselves.

And it had passed.

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

TAG: Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Open

The Dread Wolf found himself nearing Susevfi once more. Before Naedira had been brought back, and before he was as Dark Councilor or the Imperator of the Second Legion, his boots had followed Empyrean to the capitol planet of the once Rimward Trade League. His objective was simple: establish Sith control over the world. It would have been an easy raid. His ships were prepared, and there would have been little opposition to his forces. The fact was that the people of Susevfi did not have the ability to mount a defense against the might of Gerwald's Warbands.

Quinn Varanin convinced him he did not need to sweep in with devastation and an overwhelming force. The people of the planet needed a more gentle hand which would demonstrate their lives would be better under Sith control rather than the myriad of factions which had left them hungry and broken.

Gerwald opted to let her try. The young princess had seemed eager to prove herself, and the Wolf had not agreed to take her into his band to babysit her every move. She was meant to be a productive and contributing member of his crew. She would raid when they raided, and in this case, she would win over the people.

A loud knock forced the Dread Wolf out of the comfort and warmth of his bed. Sleep was rare in space. While he had grown accustomed to space travel, Gerwald still hated it. The Lupo was never at ease knowing his feet were not actually on the ground. He had found the rare moment when it did not evade him. His eyes were heavy with din of too little rest as he retrieved a robe and covered his bare body.

"What is it?"

His voice barked at the young soldier which seemed to have been elected to interrupt his sleep. The Dread Wolf looked down at the short stick in his hand, almost hearing the boys knees knocking together as shook nervously.

"Out with it. I am not going to kill you, provided you have a reason to disrupt my sleep."

The raider swallowed hard and pointed to the holoscreen in the Imperator's suite.

"You have a message, from the planet. You were named specifically."

His brows raised. The boy seemed more afraid of the news he had to offer. It was not good news, that much was certain.

"Go."

Gerwald did not need to say it a second time. The soldier was gone before Gerwald had time to turn his back.

The screen flickered to life, and Gerwald watched and listened as a group of insurgents dragged Quinn into view. Their demand was clear. The Dread Wolf would remove his ships, or the Princess would die.

Gerwald cursed as he moved quickly about his quarters. The large warrior was dressed, fully clad in his battle armor, in what seemed like record time. A determined pace carried him to the bridge where ordered for the recording to be played again. His hands gripped the railing in front of him. Were he any stronger it would have born the imprint of his hands when he finally let go.

"Lord Commander," one of the technicians called for his attention. "We have an unauthorized launch out of the shuttle bay."

Another voice chimed in.

"Sir, it seems Kaila Irons shuttle is no longer accounted for."

"Frak."

Gerwald cursed and motioned to his communications officer. Without hesitation a channel was open to the same frequency from where the holo broadcast had come from. The Dread Wolf no longer cared if the signal went out to the entire planet, or just the intended recipient. They needed to know what their actions and decisions were about to unleash upon them.

"You have taken as prisoner the Princess of Eshan, goddaughter of the Empress of the Sith Order, and one of my raiders. Your actions are a declaration of war. I don't know who you are, but I will find you, and when I do you will die."

His crew did not need to be told to send the recording. They waited until his shuttle departed with his personal band of raiders. They were missing one. She was the one they were headed to the surface to collect.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Quinn was taken.

Another time, and Alina would be the fury to descend on this world. Quinn, the love of her life. The one who broke the Force to bring Alina back from death itself. They had been something to each other, once. That had burned out. Was it because Quinn couldn't let go of Vesta? Was it because Alina grieved so wholly for Alisteri? Because Alina constantly walked away to avoid the comparisons to a love long dead?

The candle had snuffed out. And not even Quinn being taken seemed to be enough to rekindle it for Alina. It was why she didn't join whatever effort it was to reclaim the princess. Her new paramours could handle it, her god parents who never once Alina had been introduced to, even after proposing their marriage. Instead she was here, below ground, walking through an underground system as she listened to the heartbeats of those behind the princesses incarceration. They had the means to kidnap a Sith Lord who's strength could've made her an empress. They were a threat.

Alina would kill that threat. That was her purpose, after all.

So down through the underground tunnel she went. Bodies littered behind her as the blood in their veins boiled their flesh. Perhaps it was still greedy, but there was a rage in her heart for those who would bring harm to Quinn, even if the princess would never see it.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Let the others secure the Princess. Our duty is to bring... peace."

A multitude of transport and dropcraft spilled out of hyperspace, fighter escort streaming ahead through the atmosphere. Most of the capital Yumfla was embroiled in civil unrest, the city's garrison embroiled in street fighting rather than manning whatever meager aerial defense the city possessed. With highly trained precision, the pilots weaved above the city and levied a great deal of firepower to clear out an area wide enough for the transport to bivouac. Multiple buildings went up in flames as proton torpedoes and ion bombs slammed into entire city blocks, creating thick plumes of smoke and ash which choked the sky.

Large sixty meter Mastodon transports lumbered through the air, setting down on straining landing gear with a thundering rattle. A great more Vindican troop ships joined them, setting down much easier than their larger counterparts. As the ramps and lifts swept down from the assembled ships, what emerged was not the tightly honed soldiery of the Sith, but rather a guttural warcry and the resounding beat of drums.

Towering, hulking reptilian beast-men emerged from the dropships; the Graug. Their armor was jagged and hammered, plates of black steel clinging to their darkened hides. Each one carried with them a shield as broad as they and nearly as tall to boot. Advancing in a well-drilled phalanx formation, they began to move into the streets wave after wave. They clanged their shields in warning, signaling their bestial presence. Then they locked shields, each one magnetically adhering to its siblings on either side. A large divot had been cut into each shield, allowing for a massive slugthrower to be mounted and poke through without compromising the shield wall.

"But, as the Code dictates. Peace is a lie. So, I will give them the sword instead."

The advancing Graug shield wall opened fire. Explosive slug rounds burrowed deep into flesh, onto to detonate with the force of a small bomb. Dozens of rioting citizens were pasted and misted in equal measure, all in the span of a few breaths. Any unfortunate enough to be caught in the shield wall's path were gunned down; mercilessly eviscerated by the repeated volley of slug fire. Homes suspected of harboring life were scorched from the inside out by well-thrown incendiary explosives, anyone seen fleeing the burning hovel gunned down.

Eventually, the orderly advance began to split into band of roving Graug. In the absence of whatever discipline they'd know, they'd resorted to indulging in their darker impulses. Many were satisfied with simple butchery, making a display of the carnage to the amusement of their battle brethren. Others slaked their hunger, dragging helpless citizens into darkened alleys to be devoured one after another.

The Dark Lord of the Kainate watched His minions revel in their darkness from orbit, keeping a close view of all of His pieces on the board. Yes, He would let the others rescue Quinn Varanin from her unfortunate circumstances.

He would mete out retribution in spades in their stead.

 

[LST-048 | "Tohil"]

LST-048 | Tohil

Objective I: Let Them Eat Cake​

Susevfi.

A planet of unremarkable galactic historiographical cataloging, save for, at best, the minor Force-Sensitive Cult known as the Jensaarai. A footnote in the grand organizational data-computations; an organic fallacy that deviated away from acceptable margins of tolerance. It was here that the population of Susevfi, likewise, was deemed expendable. Beyond the few Imperial sympathizers and members who were considered a modest, if slightly minor, priority to relocate to safer landing points, the planet was deemed largely expendable. Were it not for the variable element of the Sith Princess whose kidnapping now rendered orbital bombardment an illogical prospect, the Droid would have considered the expense of tibanna gas spent upon the world's minor corrective action preferable to that of landing troops.

Still, there was time to correct this horrid failing.

As with the state of things, LST-048, or "Tohil", had not arrived alone. A combined element of Sith Order ships, merely one star destroyer, several cruiser-type ships, and a handful of escorts, were useful for the policing-annexation actions taken today. To this end, the Star Destroyer and its complements, acknowledging the fact that the Second Legion had priority as did the other Sith, found itself deploying an array of gunships. LST-048 elected to join the ground venture; a desire for glory was not the goal, but rather that of optimizing orbit to ground coordination. And to this end, as Sith-Imperial MAATs were preceded by several waves of Shyrack Gunships, the Droid calculated the current ventures. Of current projections was to secure the primary star port upon the seaport capital, where the droid and its army could successfully muster a quick and decisive engagement action. Flak batteries shrieked, but the combination of suppressive bomber actions, and that of patrolling fighters, reduced them to acceptable parameters.

It did not matter for the shrieks of the few Shyrack gunships struck and blown to blazing wrecks - LST-048 shut the communications to them off as to free up its vast heuristic processors with additional space.

And with that, the spaceport was within sight soon enough. Shyracks disgorged the first waves from holds akin to that of mammalian birth - arrays of blaster fire shrieking as both sides took losses. Missile launchers and gunship support alike took care of heavier armaments, as the primary hangar was secured soon enough, and with it, a launching pad for further invasion of the seaport capital from this region of the planet. Then?

Tohil's transport landed, and he was off with a quartet of IG-X Magnaguards. The LST-series Super Tactical Droid calmly strolled over to the acting commander of this operation, as captured rioters, militiamen, and others, stared in hopeful, if angered, belief that would be spared. Only for their gazes to drop to horror as the droid gave the order for them to be executed. Resistance as a variable was to be eradicated wholesale, after all.

A holocommunicator thrummed to life as the visage of Tohil's face came into view.

"The primary hangar of the enemy spaceport within the capital seaport has been secured, Darth Carnifex . Launching operations to secure remaining facilities of the spaceport; a two-pronged attack will be angled to securing the capital's primary governmental logistics structures, as well as munitions depots. Awaiting further orders or correction."

The holocommunicator remained online as the LST-series Super Tactical Droid awaited firm correction or orders as needed. If not, it would take actions itself to secure the perimeter of the spaceport and deny the enemy a chance to gain the advantage in atmospheric combat. LST-048's programming demanded such glory be won for the Sith Empire - so too would it achieve such...

 

[Lirka Ka]

Objective 1: Let Them Eat Cake

Lirka had not been back in the Sith-Imperial territory long, and already everything was rolling back to business as usual. Another world to burn, and more hapless enemies to crush under heel. She had been briefly informed about some “princess” whose name she did not know that had been captured, but such things ultimately meant little to the Once-Sephi.

Lirka knew her place in this Empire, and that was as a living missile for Darth Carnifex to sling at whatever issues were deemed pertinent. And it seemed today, Susevfi was the target.

In a scene that had become all too familiar in her tenure among the Sith, Lirka sat in a rumbling drop ship making its way to the killing fields. Sitting as an unmoving metal sentinel in her seat, paying little mind to the sounds outside of those landers far unluckier than her own. Though, she could not deny her eagerness to make landfall. This was a proper invasion force, and she hadn’t been blessed with the presence of such a thing in far too long.

Disappointingly, it seemed Lirka had ended up not being apart of the first wave as her lander thudded into the hangar bay freed up by LST-048 | "Tohil" stepping out from the thing, Lirka looked not too dissimilar from the droids in her gleaming, now freshly polished, powersuit. Eyes glazing over the current assortment of warriors. A fine assembly, though she did not intend to stay among them long.

The distant sound of Graug drumming and massacring left a grimace underneath her blanket-faced helmet. How unfortunate that the wretched things had joined this endeavor, she had seen plenty of the ugly things during those ancient days of Moridinae.

And now, all Lirka could do was wait for the next wave to push out and kill. To give in to those base desires and lose herself in the slaughter to come.

 

[Diodoros]

Disapointing…

Diodoros used to think highly of Sith and Jedi. The ignorant privateer had no real understanding of how the Force worked. But now it was starting to sound pretty pathetic if some random gecko rendered it useless as a source of power. It was starting to make the golden man reconsider what power really meant to sith if they used it like a crutch. Perhaps Diodoros needed to reevaluate his loyalties. Maybe when his contract is over he’ll find something else to do.

Or he could simply wait and see. Rumor has it the princess that sparked this whole debacle could earn her freedom through gladiatorial combat and that spoke to the former blood sport champion. If she could earn their own freedom, without being rescued by the sith themselves Diodoros may reconsider these doubts he had about The Sith.

If it was up to Diodoros the Princess would need to free herself without any aid. But it seemed like the Sith weren’t gonna take a chance. The princess either frees herself, dies trying, or is rescued. In the meantime the Firrerreo would entertain himself with cracking skulls in the riots.
​

. . .

​

Within a commercial district within the capital. Swarms of rioters looted and plundered. Not too dissimilarly to Diodoros’s own band of pirates. But today the firrerreo was acting in the role of an enforcer. With a sizable gang of pirates riding on speeders and swoops they tore through the rioting crowd. Smashing through them without prejudice. Using shock and awe tactics to earn them compliance.

Frequently uncovering gruesome scenes where sith loyalists had been executed. Never quite able to stop them before they happened but gave those responsible violent retribution. Not that Diodoros really cared all that much. Currently the gilded man was holding up one of the would be executioners by the neck. Only for them to quickly brandish a hold out blaster and shoot Diodoros right in the gut. Wincing from the burning pain, he growled in frustration before slamming them into the hard ground with enough force to crack the asphalt below.

“You good boss?” One of his crewmates asked.

“Of course, it’s just a blaster shot… It’s nothing.” He replied, content to just let his body naturally make a speedy recovery.​

 

[Credius Nargath]

While the Lord of Hunger had little to no interest in the whereabouts or safety of some Echani princess he did not care nor knew about, the idea of subjugating a rebellious planet, focing it back into law-abiding, broken-back obedience...was at the very least a good proposal for the abomination to stretch his legs once again and to avoid himself from residing within the shadows and the edge of obsoletion within the Sith Empire. The more he was ciewed, the more he was noticed, the less he would be ignored by those who were lucky enough to enjoy the benefits of the Empire's rampant nepotism.

The Usurper arrived out of hyperspace like a massie black shadow placing itself within the planet's orbit, flanked by three large red arrows in the form of a couple of Keres-Class destroyers following suite in following the Usurper in its orbit around the planet. Scans were being made, data was being compiled and when enough basic information and intelligence on the situation had been gathered, a plan was drawn up to effectively bring down the list of objectives that had been deemed to be of the utmost importance.

Susevfi held little to no interest in the Lord of Hunger's eyes either, but if none other than Darth Carnifex was throwing around his weight again, Credius could not avoid throwing his own forces into the scramble as well. From the bowels of each of the ships, hundreds of HASS drop pods barelled down towards the surface of the planet, penetrating through buildings, crashing into walls and smashing into pavement and anything unfortunate to be in their way. Each pod held a handful of Arbalesk droids which with all the pods being accurately launched from outside of susevfi's atmosphere made for a compact landing arrangement, allowing for the droids to quickly group up into much larger cohorts in order to begin the retaking of the capital through meticulous efficiency and ruthless strength.

"Leave none who resists alive, capture any who show a connection to the Force...," The order the droids could hear over their comms was clear and concise, granting them near-absolute operational freedom. With the Lord of Hunger's dark, hollow voice resonating through all the landed drop pods' communications systems spread out across the capitol, this order was not just an order either, but a veritable threat to all those who still believed they could stand up against the might of the Sith Empire and live to tell the story without any consequences.

As the droids started to converge into cohorts, forming two large contingents, they started to move through what looked like a residential district, weapons drawn, yet without any shots being fired. It didn't take long for several droids to be pelted with whatever rubble the rioters could get their hands on, yet for now...with the damage being non-lethal and limited to glancing blows, the droids reserved judgment based on their order and started to ready their weapons, the situation completely exploding when someone threw a makeshift pipebomb into the direction of one of the droid cohorts. With an explosion rocking the street and blasting out most of the nearby windows, the droids quickly regained their bearings and began to fire without reservation or hesitation upon any standing in their way, until they left a trail in their wake of naught but screams in pain, agony and deathly silence.

TAG: Darth Carnifex | Lirka Ka | Diodoros | LST-048 | "Tohil"

 

[Alina Tremiru]

"Not many people can just shrug off a shot to the gut."

Alina popped up from the underground, a body hanging loosely in her hand. Another boiled victim. The basement she'd cleared, the tunnels, they didn't have the force hunters or whoever they were she was after. They were elsewhere. What she didn't expect to see was a man shrugging off a blaster bolt. Her gaze turned to the pirates with him, a hum escaping her lips.

Interesting.

"Who are you, exactly? You don't look like the usual Sith troops. Bounty Hunter, perhaps?"

Diodoros

 

[Pacificus]

| MAULKILLER ROBES | RETROSABER |

OBJECTIVE ONE

OPEN INTERACTIONS​

He was among the streets with the ruffians and rebels. A quiet and forgotten as the wind whistling between ironwood trees. Despite his size, despite his xenoform appearance, he was forgotten among the chaos. Havoc reigned as shivs reaped those deemed apologists by the mob.

He felt the disturbances on the edge of the system, a warfleet blinking into realspace. The host of an angry, wrathful God. They would crack the surface of the planet, rend the populace until all but zealots remained, nothing left of the culture and history – null in place of learning and comprehension. Even the lesser had lessons to school the great. Warbands organized as ranphyxes would prides, electro-judgement ordained by solar storms, the babbling of the sub-sentient had as much to offer as the natural world to Sith scholars.

If they just would look with more than their hate.

Forgive them, Demiurge, for they are blind to the truth.

Pacificus was outside of the Sith command structure, he was an associate of the Eleventh – not a patriot. He held a unique position on this planet, as even those blessed by Elysium would only find a gemstone of gold in the Cosmos. A ghast of hope and love.

“Death!” Barked a voice.

It was a rodian, marching back and forth behind a row of kneeling and blindfolded beings. They were bruised, more than one of them with their mouth hanging open, draining blood onto the floor. He grasped a blaster pistol with fretting fingers. Flicking the safety back and forth with his fore as his middle tapped the trigger. Playing with the pounds of force needed to cause death.

“Tyrants, basilians! They would see us under regime, that bastard Carnifex!” Less dramatic than Pacificus would have thought, he brought the blaster high before stabbing the barrel into the back of the head of kindred, a blue skinned rodian.

A gasp from the crowd as the executioner began to float aloft in the air. Legs kicked and arms flailed, sending him tumbling this way and that. Higher and higher, until he was open for all to see.

Pacificus closed his fist.

Bones folded into one another and organs compacted. The man’s head collapsed into his chest and gore came down in great heaps across the crowd. An inversion of living.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Objective: 2 - Free Quinn and tell her "I told you so."
Attire: Assassin Gear
Equipment: Daggers, vibro-sword, blaster pistol
Tag: Adean Castor

Quinn had been captured. The scum of Susevfi had overstepped and taken her Master prisoner. The lightning crackled between the fingers of the acolyte with the fury and unbridled excitement of the torturous suffering she was planning to cause all those who stood in her way of rescuing Quinn. She knew that this was a likely outcome of extending a kind hand to those unworthy and untrustworthy. It was only further proof that her Master was too kind for her own good. That Eira's approach to be cold, cruel and calculated was the correct way to live safely as a Sith. However, Eira would only get the chance to say she told Quinn her approach was the correct way if the princess of Eshan was rescued.

So it was time to utilise her skills garnered in the Tsis'Kaar and become one with the shadows to infiltrate and release Quinn. However, she also knew that the mission was going to be a risky one to do alone and attempting without assistance was either a death sentence or ending up with joining Quinn in imprisonment. A fate that Eira had no intention on suffering. Living on Dantooine had been an imprisonment enough for her lifetime.

It was why she decided to reach out in the Tsis'Kaar to see who else would be able to help her in hunting down where Quinn was being held and eliminating all those who had captured her. It was why Eira had gone over the file on Brassius, checking out what she could on how well they would work together and what might be tough obstacles that they could both be facing in this challenging task, during the journey to Susevfi. It was interesting to see the name Zambrano, suggested that this was someone related to Carnifex in some manner. Seriously, how large was that family?

On the issues with the mission, the likelihood of force inhibiting beasts was an issue for Eira who was still very Force heavy with her training. So she was unsure how ready her combat skills would face up in this mission.

"Gotta push yourself to find new limits." Eira reminded herself as started to don her cloak and mask. Prepping herself ready for the mission ahead. She then headed to the docking bay where the shuttle would drop them onto the surface.

It was a chance to check with Brassius and their thoughts on the mission and the best approach. Eira was very singular focused in the moment. Kill all who were not Sith and make sure it was painful deaths. Then grab Quinn and leave. It was an aggressive and very emotional approach that Eira knew was unlikely to be one that someone else would be as willing to jump on board with.

It was another reason to have someone work with her. Quinn was usually the one to hold Eira back but she did not have that and could tell she was a feral animal loose if she was not reigned in, even slightly.

Approaching Brassius in the shuttle bay, "hey Brassius, so what are your thoughts on best approaching this rescue?" Eira asked, her fingers itching with a bloodlust that she was working so hard to keep in control for now.

There was a time and place. There will be a time and there will be a place.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Tags: Darth Carnifex | Credius Nargath | Lirka Ka | @LST-048 | "Tohil" | Diodoros

Darth Imperius arrived together with the forces of the Kainate, the three hulls of the Task Force Valkorion piercing the void next to the vessels sent forth from the Malsheem. While there was little doubt about the martial might of the Kainate, it was still an Empire within an Empire. An entity unleashed at it's master's will, an engine of destruction and deception that not only rivaled but outclassed it's chief competitors.

And it was good, until it was not.

The Dark Lord hadn't seen the Graug in action for a long time, especially not those Carnifex had 'tamed' in his colonies of wartribes. Punishment for defiance was right, slaughter and waste of resources was not. There were more sustainable ways of asserting dominance. The massacre of civilians should serve a larger purpose than to scorn them for opposing a failed diplomatic takeover. Making an example out of their leaders, having some kill each other or pressing them into service seemed far less wasteful than to simply slaughter them.

Yet the mob was brutal and violent. Repression required might and that was enforced by the strongest.

Darth Imperius' forces descended upon the world together with the first wave of Graug, in two different groups with two different objectives.

The first was entirely composed of Skytroopers, sent to reinforce the advancing phalanxes of Graug, secure the spaceport and other vital infrastructure hubs. It was a deployment to tie the various operations groups together and provide them with communications and cohesion, provided by subordinate Praetorian Commandee droids which had both given the order to react to allied commands as well as having a direct link to Darth Imperius for oversight.

The second group landed further away, in Scourge-class and Caestus assault ships they descended swiftly near areas inside the capitol that were designated as gathering points of civilians who were not participating in the riots. Women, children, the old. Under the leadership of the Knights Tenebrus, two Stormtrooper Legions of the Hand got to work to round up these 'innocents' like cattle and prepare them for planet wide transmission of systematic execution.

Darth Imperius arrived at the spaceport in the Vehemence, exiting with a Guard of Extremis Paladins, their armors a reflection of his own, their swords and shields an echo of what he carried. The Zakuulans step was calm but with far strides, carrying him forward swiftly. The red tabard was flowing in the wind he created, the hood pulled back, revealing the helmet that fitted his form and yet offered no insight to his being. He passed by Praetorian Skytroopers who would fall under the local command of @LST-048 | "Tohil" together with their battalions to secure the place and area.

He was heading for the city center, a central square in the middle of the barbaric bloodshed. For better or worse, he would end it.

 

[Iuuna Talon]

​

Of all the bloody things...

Iuuna paced the length of her chamber, her silver eyes glowing with fury, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of the news. Quinn. Captured.

She slammed her hand against the edge of the nearest table, the sound echoing in the cold, shadowed room. Her connection to the Force roared like a tempest as anger swirled within her, restrained only by her years of training. Silver hair fell around her face, framing her icy expression as she fought to suppress the surge of emotions threatening to boil over. She sighed, and dusted off her comms device, she had kept up with the Order as much as possible although her adventures took her to many places across the galaxy. Iuuna would gladly come back, a request to speak with Gerwald Lechner who as she was last informed through family rumor mills was one of Quinn Varanin 's contacts.

Iuuna's gaze darkened as she stalked to the center of the room, her anger coalescing into cold, calculated purpose. She raised her hands, one glowing faintly with the icy blue of cryokinesis, the other sparking with crimson lightning. The air around her crackled with suppressed energy as she whispered to herself.

"They want a show? A spectacle? Fine. Let them have it. But it won't be at her expense."

She turned sharply, issuing orders to her loyal guards—the Shadowbound—and her trusted HK-77 droid.

"Prepare my ship. Immediately. I'll not waste another moment."

One of her guards stepped forward, hesitant but resolute. "My lady, the place is heavily fortified. Entering unnoticed—"

"Unnoticed?" Iuuna interrupted, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "I don't plan to sneak in. Let them see me coming. Let them feel the wrath of the Dark Side as I tear their arena to shreds and scatter their pathetic forces."

Her steps were measured, her resolve unshakable as she prepared herself for the battle ahead. Her gaze swept across the room, landing on her collection of weapons and relics. She selected her lightsaber, the crimson blade humming to life for just a moment, its ominous glow casting sharp shadows on the walls.

"And if any of those so-called champions dare to stand in my way…" She smiled faintly, a chilling, predatory grin. "I'll thin the competition myself."

Iuuna stepped onto her ship, the Ebonspire, her mind focused, her anger a steady flame. She would reach Quinn. And those who dared to harm her cousin would come to know the price of crossing an Echani—especially one trained in the ways of the Sith.

As the engines roared to life and the ship launched into the void, Iuuna whispered into the quiet hum of the cabin:

"Hold on, Quinn. I'm coming."

#TeamRescueQuinn​

 

[Loryn Praji]

Tags: OPEN

The acrid stench of smoke and blood clung to the humid air as Loryn Praji stepped off the transport shuttle and onto the cracked duracrete streets of Susevfi's capital. Her polished, charcoal-gray uniform of the Sith-Imperial Mining Guild gleamed against the haze, the insignia of her station prominently displayed on her lapel. Around her, members of the Second Legion moved with a predatory precision, their crimson armor reflecting the chaos of the burning cityscape. Shouts and screams echoed in the distance, punctuated by the sharp reports of blaster fire and the dull thud of detonations.

Susevfi's capital was a warzone, a violent cacophony of rebellion against Sith rule. Bodies littered the streets—some were the unfortunate victims of rioters, others wore the shattered remnants of Sith-loyalist insignias. Above, Sith dropships roared across the ash-filled sky, deploying more troops to choke the flames of insurrection.

Loryn's eyes, a glacial blue that seemed impervious to the heat and fury around her, scanned the chaos with clinical detachment. This was not her first uprising, nor would it be her last. What had started as a botched diplomatic overture had metastasized into full-blown rebellion, and the streets were thick with insurgents, their fury threatening to consume the city.

She adjusted the sleek datapad attached to her gauntlet, its display flickering with updated reports on the situation. Civilians-turned-revolutionaries were organizing in pockets across the city, targeting key infrastructure and rounding up anyone perceived as a collaborator. The Sith Order's sympathizers were being dragged into the streets, their executions serving as grisly warnings to others.

This wasn't just about revenge or rebellion; it was about annihilation.

A sharp voice broke through her thoughts. "Guildmaster Praji," a Sith officer approached, his crimson helm tucked under his arm, "the main bulk of the Second Legion is preparing for an all-out assault on the government district. Your orders?"

Loryn tilted her head slightly, the corner of her mouth curling into a faint, predatory smirk. She was here under the pretense of assisting the Legion, but her interests lay elsewhere. The Guild's interests, to be exact. Susevfi was rich with resources that could bolster production, but only if its population and infrastructure were pacified. The rebellion wasn't just an inconvenience—it was an opportunity.

"Let the Legion focus on their assault," she said, her voice calm but laced with authority. "I'll take a detachment to the industrial quarter. It's imperative we secure the refineries and mining facilities. If those fall, this planet will be useless to the Guild—and to the Sith."

The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding. "As you command, Guildmaster."

With a wave of her hand, Loryn signaled to her personal guard, a mix of Guild enforcers and Sith-aligned mercenaries. "We move for the refineries. I want the streets cleared and resistance crushed. No half-measures."

The group moved swiftly, cutting through the chaos like a scalpel. As they advanced, Loryn's mind raced with calculations. The revolt needed to be snuffed out, but the aftermath was just as important. She could already see the possibilities: new mining contracts, tighter Guild oversight, and a chance to remind the Sith that the Mining Guild was indispensable to their war machine.

She stepped over the body of a dead insurgent, her boots leaving crimson streaks across the duracrete. The message was clear—Susevfi would burn if it had to, but when the fires were extinguished, Loryn Praji would ensure the ashes served her purpose.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 2: Save the Clown​

---

CURRENT MISSION - Send In The Clowns
Immediate Goals -
1: Find and exfiltrate VIP ( Quinn Varanin )
1.1: Rendezvous with BLUFOR to coordinate rescue operations.

BLUFOR - Quinn Varanin || Iuuna Talon || Gerwald Lechner || Eira Dyn || Kaila Irons

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - BLUFOR || Open Frequency

---

It wasn't every day that the Empress' goddaughter got kidnapped - the exact hows and whys were unimportant as the Dread Wolf's challenge to Susevfi rang out on the comms of the Conciliator and her fleet escort. All that mattered was the hasty mustering of droid forces, and the streamlined babble of Tactical Droid assessments as the roughest semblances of an exfiltration operation was formed.

Trayze Tesar, for once, may not be the latecomer - but instead smack dab in the middle of a momentous occasion. After all, he felt the Butcherer present. So, rather than waste time on the roaring frontal assault of the Externalists' and Carnifex's wrath, he focused on what he was good at - extracting people in the middle of conflict.

Gerwald Lechner would receive a communique, from "Trayze Tesar, Fleet Captain Under Marque of the SIBC. My fleet of four are at your disposal, myself and my commando droids are able to sneak around the conflict present and exfiltrate Her Ladyship." he offered, the fleet already lurching out of hyperspace on the heels of the ongoing operation. "Unless you have a plan in mind..."

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Spaceport, Yumfla - Susevfi
Tag: Darth Carnifex Lirka Ka │ Open

Ellissanthia made her way down the drop ship’s disembarkment ramp, her azure-hued features casted in stark relief from the light of the holographic display projecting from the device in her hand. She, along with Lirka Ka and potentially others, had been sent planetside to engage in the operation to put down the anti-Sith riots and rebel cells which had taken over much of the capital city. However, unlike the Graug, their talents would not be deployed solely for simple butchery, but as weapons to be pointed towards the enemies of the Sith.

Though naturally, given the circumstances, simple butchery would likely remain part and parcel of whatever mission they were to be assigned.

In that regard, Ellissanthia studied the briefing in her holographic display before moving it to her HUD. At that point, the Undine pulled up a three-dimensional holographic map which showed a large palace surrounded by innumerable red dots—rebels and rioters.

“Slavecatcher General, our tasking has come in!” Ellissanthia piped up, before running to catch up with the armored monstrosity she had been assigned alongside. “The Sonata family is trapped inside of their palace, located in the luxury district of the city.” The Undine began. “They are Kainite loyalists, who effectively own 100% of the water supplies in this region through a variety of shell companies, front operations, and debt relationships.” She then zoomed out on the holographic map, to display a full overview of the luxury district. “The rioters broke into the luxury district three days ago and established full control of the area last night, overwhelming the hired security forces in the process. They have since been moving house to house, looting, murdering, and burning where they please. Our mission...” She paused again, before pulling up the briefing information on her holoprojector. “Is to secure the palace and facilitate the extraction of the Sonata family.” She finished.

“After that, we may do with the rioters—any that remain—as we wish.”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Pulsiva Bodysuit Mk. II
  
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
  • Helmet
    
    • FAE/U-06 Collapsing Mirrors
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/C-04 Dermal Hydration System
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • All White Coloring
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Breast
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Standard Lightsaber
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Save the Clown Obj 2 //:
//: Susevfi //:

"Did you hear that?" One of the men looked up from the bound Princess. He had pacified her, but the stillness of her body concerned him. Waiting for the other man's answer, he placed a finger under the girl's nose to feel if she was breathing. A sigh of relief he hadn't killed her yet. "I asked, did you hear that?!" The man was now aggravated as he stood up and shoved her limp body off of him. "He's coming for us; you didn't say she was actually someone important!" The shouting pierced her mind as she remained subdued. Others came in to grab her.

"Calm down, calm down. If she's really the Empress' goddaughter, we're safer. They won't do anything that will harm her." The man speaking into the camera waved his hands, trying to calm the small group. Chatter buzzed, and fear began to fill the room. They knew the woman had been a princess, but her connection to the Empress herself was beyond their view. "We made a mistake," a woman shrieked from the corner of the room as she gripped her hair by its roots. More chatter echoed, and panic and confusion continued to fester.

"QUIET" The man in charge yelled, his eyes darted to the Princess and hovered over her. "I hear something; shut up so I can find it on her." Hands moved about the woman, searching for the small and faint beeping. There was nothing on her clothing or in it, but as his hand ran down her torn sleeve, his eyes caught the faint light under the layer of her skin. "Kark, she has a tracker; damn that karking dog!" As quickly as he shouted, a knife appeared in his right hand. "Hold her still; if she wakes up, I'd like to not lose my chances at having children." He grunted with a laugh - trying to lighten the dreadful mood of the room. The rusted blade met porcelain skin; blood pooled at the tip as it was drawn down the edge of where the tracker was placed. Dirty fingers dug into the incision, and he ripped the pill-sized device from her flesh. He dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his worn boots.

"Problem solved." He laughed and cleaned his blade. "Tend to it and take her to the cell." The same foot that crushed the bit of hope the second legion had of finding her kicked her over to her side. Quinn had begun to wake up from the pain of the wound and kick. She whimpered, and her body shook slightly. They had placed a thick tape over her mouth, poked with holes to allow her to breathe. She couldn't die - not yet. They had plans for her; she would be their spectacle, a way to give the Empire a taste of their own medicine.

The Princess would bear the suffering of a scorned people.

Quinn felt the fabric and salve over her wound; she was at least thankful they tended to the cut properly. Bleeding out wasn't an option for her tonight. She was dragged towards the makeshift cell, her head covered and cut off from the Force. Nothing made sense except that she knew she was barefooted. Her feet could feel the cold stone change to sand, then back to stone. They had moved buildings that were evident enough. In this new building, though, she felt the endless suppression of the Force. Her mind was quiet, empty from the emotional flood she felt when she arrived. Her body felt weak as if it was rejecting movement and living. Everything hurt; she stumbled to her knees, legs giving out, no longer wanting to move. "Get up." A man's voice spat at her, disgusted with having to touch her to keep her moving. He lifted the Princess by the torn fabrics of her clothing, further ripping them in his rough grasp. She stumbled a few times more, and each time was met with a swift kick to her side and the sound of ripping cloth.

Her lips tasted blood, and a part of her wished this was almost over. Maybe it would have been kinder to just kill her, but hatred forced them to keep her alive. "Home sweet home," the man finally spoke after several minutes. A hard shove and she landed on her knees, feeling flesh burn and scrape against hard stone. "Change her; we can sell whatever is left of what she was wearing. I felt it - was soft even as filthy as it is." A woman nodded, listening to the order she was given. Walking inside, she carefully removed the rich fabrics and silks from the Princess. The touch was kinder, and Quinn remained silent. Once done, her soft skin scratched against the rough prisoner tunic, irritating it. She remained on the floor, kneeling with her head hanging.

The cell was recently renovated and built with several pounds of nullification resin mixed into the duracrete and durament. The Force's touch would end at the beginning of the building and become farther away and closer to her cell. Hundreds of masked and armed guards stood, talking about how joyous they were to have caught this witch and what they had planned to do with her. Each has their own idea of how best to break and kill her.

Empty the cell felt so empty. Where Quinn often found comfort in the Force, it wasn't there - she felt abandoned. Hunching over, with her arms bound behind her, she cried. Having failed the one mission she had been given, the chance for her to be beyond just 'the Princess of Eshan.' She felt sick to her stomach as her body began to abandon her as well. In her youth, it was a weakness she had only faced once before against Alina. The woman could nullify the Force around her, but the moment Quinn entered it, she was sick. Her mind wandered to Alina, and her heart broke again. Quinn knew she couldn't think this was the end; Kaila would come for her, Gerwald would come, and maybe Malum and Alina. She had to believe all was not lost.

"Witch," She heard the man's voice from before. In all her pride, the Princess did not acknowledge him. "I'm talking to you," He was getting angry, and she could hear the cell door open. His heavy footsteps let her know where he was and where he was going. She waited, silently focused on his movements. "I know you can hear me, you prideful bint." His footsteps stopped; he was behind her. Using what she knew of his steps and movements, the Echani quickly calculated her next move. Her head snapped back, head butting him in the worst possible place. Cursing under the sound groans, the man stumbled back and held onto what was left of his smashed jewels.

Quinn laughed slightly, as best she could under the hood. The man gathered his composure, still twitching with pain, but anger fueled his adrenaline. Getting up, he limped and grabbed the hood off her head. "You're going to pay for that." He grunted as the veins bulged from his thick neck. A hand grabbed at ashen hair, forcing her to look at him. "Do you want to go home?" He cooed, mocking her as she stared at him defiantly, her face stained with tears, but Quinn would not let him see her in the moment cry. "I'll let you earn your freedom." he started as he ripped the tape from her lips. It burned as the feeling of air brushed against the irritated, tender skin. Tossing her back down, he circled her, his chest puffed out, proud of what he had come up with.

"I will let you earn your freedom; you will fight through here. If you win, you can go home to your puppy dog and whatever sod you fancy." He laughed. She was a pretty little thing, but it was unfortunate that she was touched by the Force. Here, they were equals. She was in the dirt and mud just like him; she would have to fight for her freedom, just like him, and she had nothing but her hands and wit, just like him. The only difference is that she was doomed to die by beast or flame.

"If you don't and the Empire doesn't come for you - we will burn you, tied to a stake in the middle of town. Everyone will cheer and revel as you die." Quinn listened, going over her options. She had to fight and go home and make it back. Her mind rapidly weighed her options, and everything was pointed toward fighting her way out. "I'll fight." She spoke, her voice weak, as she knew her time was limited. Swallowing hard, she fought to stand up and repeat herself. "I'll fight." The man smiled, clapping his hands together. "Prepare, then we'll not be waiting till morning." He left the cell, guard pointing guns at her. She waited until she was locked in and no one was paying attention.

Turning to the corner of the cell, she found a bucket falling again to her knees, and she threw up. Everywhere around her smelled of death and disease. Everything hurt, but this was her chance to try and break free.

Plans were made, and soon after, The Princess was marched into a large arena. People cheered, screaming for her death. A significant stake was being carved far from the arena, and firewood was beginning to pile up. Fate looked upon her, and she gathered herself as best as possible.

She was the Echani Princess; her parents were two of the greatest leaders known to the galaxy. She was the goddaughter of the Empress; she was a warrior. Death would only be as honorable as she could make it. But giving up and waiting was not part of her plans. As she entered the arena, Quinn assessed the crowd and the battlefield. Hundreds of people were waiting to see what she would face - all she needed was an opening. The man from earlier smugly looked down from his perch in the stands. "Let her taste the force."

A mistake he would soon regret. A grin crossed the woman's lips as she felt the Force suddenly surge to her, and in an instant, the clouds above began to swirl faster and faster; lighting soon streaked the sky above the crowds. Screaming echoed as thick bolts started to crack down, killing anyone it made contact with. Chunks of the foundation buckled with each bolt that came down upon them. "Who said we were starting?!" the man yelled, "Stop her!" Feeling the surge of the Force fueled her body, regenerating it from its disconnection.

As fast as the storm began to manifest, it ended. Quinn paused, the world around her spinning again like before. She no longer felt the surge of power flowing through her. She no longer felt normal. Along her back, several darts stuck out, bouncing as she stumbled. Falling to her knees, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. The darts that she had been shot with were old Sith Assassin anti-force darts mixed with a tranquilizer. They were prepared for her to taste the Force and try and abuse their kindness.

"Stupid girl, take her away, start repairs, and we'll do this again later - don't let her rest too much." The man gave his orders as he went to help those stuck under rubble from the attack. His mind was set; she'd either die in the arena or on the stake, but if the wolf was coming for his head, he would take the Princess with him.

The Empire will suffer, just as they have.

Tags: Kaila Irons Gerwald Lechner Trayze Tesar Iuuna Talon Eira Dyn Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Shyrack Gunsship, Observing prison
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Quinn Varanin Gerwald Lechner Trayze Tesar Iuuna Talon Eira Dyn | OPEN

The young Darth anxiously drummed her fingers against the lightsaber on her hip as the gunship rocked through the clouds. She could see the clear skies outside, with the exception of distant starships and transports not unlike her own, yet their paths diverged as armies were brought to bear against a world which had doomed itself.

Kaila did her best to ignore the Kainite markings on one of the passing transports, telling herself that she didn't care.

Not for these... people.

"Sergeant," she abruptly called, eyes narrowing on the clouds.

"Why are we not jumping?"

"The storm my lord, it's not safe."

Anathemous marched into the cabin with a confused expression. "What storm?"

The sergeant pointed over the pilot's shoulder, and for but a moment, Anathemous beheld through her crimson visor a force storm for the second time in her life.

And she knew only one sith who could summon that sort of power over a city.

"Take us down a safe distance and get me those coordinates. We've found our princess."

"Aye ma'am."

The troopers got to work quickly, forgoing the formal salutes, focused entirely on the mission just as Anathemous desired. The young darth turned away just as the storm mysteriously vanished, returning to the doors where her troopers were waiting to disembark.

The gunship was quick to land atop one of the taller buildings, where the sith was first to step off, jumptroopers immediately taking covered positions all around her, the sniper among them scanning the building through his enhanced targeting scope. The sergeant in charge stood beside Anathemous, micro binoculars trained on the building where the storm had originated from.

"It looks like an arena."

A long pause followed as the two continued their search, until the trooper pointed towards a crowd around some sort of pole.

"There, the crowd is piling wood around some sort of..."

"A stake."

The two armored warriors exchanged a concerned glance before Anathemous turned away to contact Gerwald Lechner 's ship by way of holocommunicator.

<"Anathemous to Úlfs Reiði, we are observing a force storm above the Arena, possibly created by the princess, coordinates to follow, over.">

"My lord, something's wrong," the sergeant hurriedly chimed in.

"Her locator is offline."

Anathemous slowly turned, taking a moment to gauge the distance to the ground, speaking into her wrist-commlink one last time.

<"Correction; moving to support the princess at target location, out.">

The sith took a few steps back and a deep breath.

"Get me observation from the sky and inform the others, the rest of you are on me."

The sergeant took his electrobinoculars back and began broadcasting the princess' suspected coordinates across the imperial command network as the gunship took off and Anathemous, accompanied by several jumptroopers, took a running leap off the rooftop.

Help was coming.

​