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

[Lirka Ka]

Objective 1

Showing an ultimately very rare curtesy, Lirka stopped to allow Ellissanthia to report on their given objective. Giving her fellow Kainite but the briefest head tilt of acknowledgement. It seemed today was going to be an more interesting day than simply smashing open the skulls of lesser beings.

As the Undine laid out their task, Lirka paused in contemplation. Water rights? Now that was an investment she had not thought of before…how clever these rich fools could be. Perhaps before extraction she’d need to discuss some, business.

“One would expect the rich Kainites of the Galaxy to be wise enough to defend themselves against rabble…”

She’d never miss a chance to sling an insult, such is her way.

“Seems that today is a day of rescues for one and all. Are you equipped and expecting a silent and precise infiltration, or shall we go on this adventure my way?”

Being a slaver didn’t exactly give her the same military pull she had before, and much to her woe: that did actually mean somewhat trying to communicate and formulate plans with her fellows instead of just sprinting off with blade alight and making a bloody mess till things worked themselves out.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Wrath.

Sing oh the Force, of Marr's son, Malum, murderous, doomed, who cost the Sith countless lives. Hurling down to the house of death, so many sturdy souls, great warriors' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of the Force was moving towards its end.

These were silent streets which he walked upon, his black cloak trailing across dusty and gravelled earth, as houses and buildings passed him by, they were a colourful mix, if the colours noted were of drab greys, browns, and blacks, run down as they were, destroyed as many others were, the capital of the once mighty Rimward Trade League reflected the state of its fall. This common sight was pervaded across the systems that were once held within that confederation.

When the core broke, so did the entire system. The components were cut off from each other and unable to stand together, even as Alliance agents tried their best to rejuvenate worlds in resistance against the oncoming Sith.

...So alone they all fell.

A caw from above, made him stop his careful advance, the red eyes of his Cornix, acting as his gaze from above, as suddenly, his senses reawakened.

Shouting erupted out the front of him, the visceral hate of one facing an invader stemming forth out of line after line of advancing foes, ill-disciplined rabble wielding whatever makeshift melee weaponry available, while those in the back carried the weapons of the League, looted from armouries so long ago. His nostrils were awakened by the scent of copper that caked the space between nose and mask, as the ever-familiar scent of burning flesh continued to waft out from behind him, wafting from corpses roasted by the Sith Steel which he bore weakly with one hand, fingers gripping softly around the beskar, as the metallic steel extending out further to the red plasma that hissed against the air in which it was swung.

His hands gripped tighter around the hilt, as he took in the scents around him, his boots grounding themselves beneath the earth below, his mouth dry, as red eyes simply... stared ahead.

For all which he felt.

Why did he not feel her?

Rubies blazed in a luminance that could be seen even with the shield of his mask, as the first of the blue blasterbolts began to sing, as the new wave of his enemies, charged forward, their boots an oncoming tide, destined to swallow this lone island, that dared to stand alone, that dared to keep marching forward.

It did not matter to him.

Where was she?

There was no resistance to the plasma as it burned through the first layer of skin, there was no notice of the gasped gurgling that erupted out of the uniformed's ribs, as the Sith Steel made its heavy presence felt, breaking the flesh, and shattering the bone, as the bolt struck his shoulder, and a low hiss was allowed through the masked Sith Lord's lips.

He was being too slow. It did not matter.

Where was she?

His boots gave little consideration, as they pushed upon the armour of one whose face he would never remember, blade and sword hissing against the flesh, as it was cleanly withdrawn, this single vanguard, an eager scion far too eager to die, as his comrades, still ran forward, charged forward, denying him answers to the question which they never could answer.

He was the darkness as he fell forward, a whirlwind that refused to allow any calamity to stop his own calamitous nature, the Force popped and crackled around him, as the emotions suppressed within the pot that was his heart, mind, and soul begged to bubble over and overflow. His swings held the strength of an axe, with all the finesse of the rapier, as speed and power coalesced into one single, body. His steps were the epicentres of quakes that rumbled through his chest, the shouts in front of him giving way to screams and bellows.

His blade broke the swing of one club, the Force shoving that particular foe back, within the blink of an eye, the blade departed to slice down horizontally the victim that had joined the foolish advance, blood sprayed through the air, a wound so mortal that not a sound left his lips, as the skin singed, as the flesh parted.

As the bone crinkled.

Another bolt pierced his form, allowing himself a grunt, and a step back, as the force applied itself to his chest, and his eyes unconsciously watered.

He allowed himself a moment, before his free hand held three shikkars between their fingers, a haunting whistle through the air, as the glass shattered, the first blade embedding itself into the heart of one taken so aback by the unnatural power used against him.

As Malum barrelled forward, between two more advancing enemies, when he rose, they did not.

The obsidian glass meeting their marks upon necks.

They still refused him succour, they still refused him an answer.

WHERE WAS SHE?

The waves of darkness thus far blanketing only him, in a single instant spread to cover the entire district, as all which he felt, as all those which abrogating emotions that where the way of the Darkside of the Force seeped their insipid poison into the hearts of now blinded foes.

As their only warning, was the sight of red plasma, and the hiss of its wielder.

This one grunted out, as the blade dug itself into his ribs, the plasma burned, as the blade twisted between bone, and blood poured, not even the cauterisation, the scent of burnt flesh, keeping him from the blood which pooled out from his lips.

The fourth shikkar broke upon the third strike, his stomach was left with mutilating gashes, like a breach in nature, as he simply collapsed upon the floor, low moans his only solace, as minutes passed, the end of his life.

He could not help the low chuckle, as the blood stained his armour, dragging himself ever forward, the blaster bolts whistled by his ears, so close, yet so far, so many of their comrades already dead.

It would be mercy now, no?

The fool tried to block the plasma, raising his makeshift blade, as the heir of Marr emerged out from the darkness, the sword swung through the air in answer.

A thin if bloody line was drawn from head to toe, as with gasped last breath, he fell, a broken heap upon the floor.

And yet still.

"Where is she?" He whispered in an air wafting with liquid of burgundian hue, an air sounded by the result of his crimes, and the desperate defence of those that stood in his way.

The head was sliced clean off, it was an unremarkable face, surely none would miss it, after all, how could one miss one who was so rude?

He did not answer the question.

It was instinctive when a bolt grew too close, for the blade to act as a deterrent, shielding him, knocking the bolt back to whence it came, as the sound produced from surprised glands, was altogether enough answer for if he had struck his target. This was taking too long, he would not find the answer, which dulled mind... which, stolen part of his heart, which... unfilled part of his soul, so sought.

He stilled, as Cornix cawed ever still, flying far above them all, his inky invisible tendrils, quick to spread out through his darkness to find those which he sought. As below by Cornix's talons, grew forth from the darkness, weapons of familiar shape, weapons of which calamity, of such speed...

...That it would be mercy.

The Darkshears flew forth, the wind at their back, and in moments, after the sounds of pained gasps, after the noise of collapsing bodies.

All was quiet again.

"Where is she?" He asked the silent air, a peal of manic laughter accompanying the question, as the feelings of emptiness so settled upon the pit of his stomach, that same feeling he had felt upon Abraxas when he had...

...On Echnos when she had...

...He had always felt her, across distance, across moment, he had always...

...So why could he not feel her now?

A struggling cough, alerted him to the presence of another, mask whipping to face the direction of the offending sound, as immediately he set off investigation, a hope filling his heart, as he crested the hill, upon which the army of ants had tumbled down in their onslaught against him, as the darkness surrounding him abated away, revealing slowly, the decrypt old houses and building that had been familiar, ever since he had bent time and space around his form, to arrive here, arrive here from memory of only one other time of being here, arrive here...

...Because she was here.

The stranger hacked bloody chunks into his gloves, as he lay against the side of bricks, that he did not react to the looming mask figure approaching him, breaking stone, and grass underfoot, as he approached, was either credit to his bravery...

...Or as evidenced by the deep wound to his stomach, bloodying his clothing, credit to his impending doom.

Malum tilted his head, gazing down inquisitively, before, without a word, his boot placed itself upon the man's skull.

The coughing was insistent, he was no use to him, this was a mercy.

He pressed.

The coughing grew louder.

His heart flowed with emotions deep and indecipherable.

The man's red eyes gazed up at him, with a familiar fear, with a familiar... familiar face. Malum pressed down ever harder, every muscle in his limb cajoling at this opportunity, as his heart beat rapidly against his chest, and his lips were sweltering with a hunger that he had never known before.

A hunger that made him... feel less empty.

Long raven locks were matted with blood, as he gazed away, gazing forward to the arena, which he had... felt, something.

He turned his gaze back down upon the raven-locked man below him, gazing up at him, with... pity?

"WHERE IS SHE?" A hiss that was more serpentine than human erupted out from him, a shrill scream, as the spit and spittle flew out from dried lips, down upon the ghost below, as behind him.

A tall column of blue fire rose towards the heavens.

Quinn Varanin Gerwald Lechner Trayze Tesar Iuuna Talon Eira Dyn Adean Castor

 

[Omon Kaa / Darth Diem]

Wearing : THIS
Location : Cloaked up ship, just above atmosphere of the Planet Susevfi
Time : 1 hour after abduction of Quinn Varanin

---

Invisible beak of the deadly Shikkar corvette, was ominously pointing at the middle sized planet. Planet with rich history, and even richer destruction of that history.

Screens inside the ship were all lit up, Omon's Inquisitorial staff worked hard and fast, each on their own assignment. Most were slicing in to any port possible, weather it be Sith, or down on the planet. With their counterintelligence equipment they were, naturally, far better equipped to do this then other.

Darth Diem, on thee outside dressed in quite minimalistic outfit, dark hooded robe. Which covered his Sith Agent bodysuit.

"..did they took MY princess?!" he thought with a frown, as the fists clinched on the, main-bridge chair, arm-holders.
"..I was quite drunk on that party. But it must be her, from what I recall those screaming heralds announced.." of course she was 'His', just because his mind say it so. But that was fine with him.

One of the chairs from the lower left side turned.. "My Lord, we got the image from the 'ransom' video." young officer said, lowering his eyes a bit while adding second part.. "Only the holo of the kidnappers.. I'm sorry. It is the Wolf and the Second Legion, master. Slicing in to their data would take considerably more time. Also its a Dark Cou.." Omon's lift his hand and forearm, stopping him, before he blabs too much.

"Yes, yes, I hear ya. Show me.. on the main screen" using both hands he propelled himself from the chair and on to the wide command bridge. Observing the video that playing in front of him.

His eyes narrowed, his right hand brushing his chin slowly, resting on his left forearm.
"Hm.."

"Alright, what do we know about the kidnappers?" his voice stern and commanding. Asking both himself, and his 'Black Serpent' team.

"Theeey.. suffered a lot, in the past years." one said..
"They are armed with primitive weapons.." second added..

Omon nodded.. "So they are dirty crakin peasants, is what they are" he concluded without any malice.

"Fair.. sir."

Hands lowered down behind his back, as he slowly moved from side to side of the bridge.
"HOW, does bunch of dirty peasants, subdue a Sith!? She might be young, but that, is a SITH!" his black clad finger pointed toward the image of the beaten girl.
"Not only did they subdue her, but she freed herself from the bounds, and could do nothing aside from hand to hand combat.. Why?!" the question he pointed out in anger. For this situation was rather confusing to him.

"Anty Sith emblems on their masks.. Anty Sith.. Anty.. Force?" thought ran through his mind.

"Am.. could it be she is somehow unable to use Force?" one of the agents said. And that was as though a sign to Omon, that he is probably correct. Two came to same conclusion. 'Anti Force'.. they took her Force away. Somehow.

Diem nodded and sat back in to his chair.. "Alright, fly us in to the outskirts of the city. While you fly over, look for any strong energy heat signatures, among the houses. Look for big output of electricity." while speaking he checked his vibro blades, hidden saber, and small blaster under his armpit.
It occurred to him to also use one of the ragged cowls when he leaves the ship. They had plenty of 'blend in' outfits on every Inquisitorial vessel.

One soldier raised his arm, to get noticed from the bridge.. "Yes?"

"We could try to slice in to the signal used for that holo recording. Try to go directly where she was held?" young man made a solid point.

But Omon was not convinced.. "Lets say they are there. If they are stupid, or insane enough to stay there, and wait for the Wolf and Second Legion, then she is either already dead.." he said those words with strange bitterness.
"Or she will be. If they want to kill her in front of Sith eyes or some other revenge-suicide fantasy. But in any case, it would be waste of time. We'll go via different approach, and hope we are in the right."

The soldier firmly nodded and sat back down, doing his work diligently.

The Black Serpent was slithering closer and closer to the planets surface. And Diem's Sith eyes lit up with murderous intent.

​

---

Tags : OPEN

​

 

[Kirie]

Location: Varanin Residence, Jutrand
Objective: BYOO
Mentioned: Quinn Varanin

"I don't understand your filing system. Why do you have a folder full of old party invitations?"
08:28:31 - No response.

Kirie glanced at the terminal. Nothing more from Quinn. She dismissed the screen, the small holo-projector whirring down leaving the sun-soaked office silent. Kirie gathered the flimsiplast files off the floor and set them down in an untidy pile on the desk. Was it a royalty thing to have so many physical documents?

Kirie tucked her chair back into it's place and swept a mote of dust off the polished wooden desk. She made her way back into the bedroom, the bed she shared with Quinn, except for days like today, when the Princess was travelling. She took her usual position in the window nook that overlooked the Jutrand skyline. The street was quiet. Clouds heavy with rain scudded in from the horizon, promising bad weather. No matter, she was inside with a good book and the rest of the day to herself.

The hours went by quickly. It wasn't safe to go outside, really. Not without somebody home to look out for her, so Kirie contented herself with indoor activities. She alternated between reading, working on the large puzzle in the parlour, and exercising, relishing in releasing the strange strength that had pooled in her muscles since Echnos. After an hour of that, she soothed her muscles in the large bath in Quinn's ensuite, laying back and letting the warm water drain away her aches. Dressed in a robe monogrammed with 'Q.V.', Kirie collapsed onto the plush bedspread and closed her eyes. Rain began to lightly tap upon the glass and Kirie sighed contentedly. In a few minutes, she was asleep.

Kirie started awake at the sound of the door opening. Jerking upright, wild-eyed, suddenly ready to run. The woman, one of Quinn's Ladies named Tamsyn, glared at her disapprovingly. Kirie pursed her lips.

"We're leaving." she said. "Not much to do until Her Highness is back, so we'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"Okay." Kirie replied, still reeling. "Um, see you the-" The door closed with a soft thud, and the woman was gone. Kirie rolled her eyes and turned away, searching around the room in the fading light until she eventually came across her datapad half obscured under a blanket. She opened it up and immediately frowned. No new messages from Quinn, only a SINN broadcast about some counter-revolutionary operation in the Bejic sector.

Bejic... That seemed familiar. Was that where Quinn had been travelling? Kirie navigated back to her messages.

"U good?"
17:02:55 - No response

The storm had come in while she'd been napping. A strong gusting wind made the windows rattle, and the rain was coming down in thick heavy drops that formed rivulets on the pavement outside.

"Are you mad"
19:35:16 - Unsent

"Quinn?"
23:49:23 - No response

Kirie let out a shaky breath.

"Chit."

 

[Diodoros]

Glancing down he saw the woman who suddenly addressed him. Being somewhat caught off guard by her appearance along with the crew that was around Diodoros. “Well it’s never pleasant, but it doesn’t compare to vibro-weapons or explosions.” The golden man admitted. The wound behind the burnt hole in his shirt was already beginning to heal. Given a few minutes he will be as good as new.
​

“Privateers technically, occasionally summoned for action like this. Mostly just harass the enemies of the Sith… so basically everyone.” Diodoros explained to her. “Are you a Sith? You have the fiery eyes of one.” He asked while giving his reason as to why he came to such a conclusion. “Because if so I suppose I should ask if there’s anything you would require from me?” As per his contract he was somewhat required to answer their beck and call whenever possible.

Alina Tremiru

 

[Omon Kaa / Darth Diem]

Wearing : New Outfit
Location : Cloaked up ship, landing at the periphery of the City / Planet Susevfi
Time : 2 hours after abduction of Quinn Varanin

​

---

Shikkar circled a bit, cloaked, going from the landing where she was taken, city's center, to each of the devastated city outskirts. Ships crew was monitoring ground with care.

The main screen suddenly glow with the image of several orange to red dots, in the ocean of cold gray.

"We got something, my Lord!" junior officer proclaimed proudly, while still typing and directing the Shikkar's scanners.

Omon jumped from his chair, as they finally might have something, after 1 hour of flying around.
He observed the 3 'hot' images, surrounded by houses who barely had any power at all.

"Good work agent!" his arms crossed on his chest, as his feet moved up and down few time in place, as though wanting to jump in to that screen..
"Now turn heat signature off, and get us closer. Search for the second parameter." order was said with caution, as though not wanting to put bad luck on it.

For their hypothesis to be correct, two parameters had to achieved.

Cloaked vessel moved slowly and with purpose, like a shark stalking its pray. The green and blue lines were doing horizontal and vertical sweep across the screen, until the scan was finally ready.

"Its a hit sir! Two out of Three structures have them" different crew member proclaimed "Newly build antennas, with very strong signal. One is definitely interplanetary, that object is also the one with bigger electricity input and output." young girl proclaimed proudly, then return to her work.

Diem liked this, this was something that looked promising.

"One with the weaker antenna must be guard station, or some sort of security, for the other, main one" he thought while looking as the settlement was closing in.

"Relay orders to Jaegissary Commandoes in the back :
'Unit of 6; Civilian ragged outfits; Weapons with kinetic-projectiles, silenced & concealed; Possible extraction, precise trigger time:'.." once he issue the order, one of the agents nodded and started to send it to men in the common-room area, in the back of the vessel.

Omon donned his common looking robe, to blend with the masses, as the first houses started to appear below them. In secret, they landed on small hillside, just above the 2 houses of interest. While the ship was in stealth mode, it will not be discovered.

They disembarked. Six commandoes, and Darth Diem. Receiving information's through the earpieces, while also sending them for analysis through hidden cameras.

_________

They spread in to group of 3 and 4, slowly descending to the houses. They were passing beside ragged looking people, drunk, malnourished, sick..
Ones who seemed fine, had an empty, sinister gaze. Eyes without hope.

Each group converged right between the 3 houses who had huge electric output. Keeping small distance between each of the man.

And right away his commandoes noticed several possible threats or guards. After Omon looked, he concurred. He could sense their fighting nature.
He started observing two objects that had big antennas.. house with smaller antenna was bigger, longer. House with bigger antenna was smaller, but had 2 floors.

Filth and trash was in front of both. But one had mostly food junk and garbage. While smaller house had empty med packs, surgical glows, broken syringes, and plenty more used medical equipment tossed out front.

"This is it.. pray to Bogan" young Sith thought, before giving his men hidden signal to follow.

After they all knew which house they hitting, it was mostly routine.. hit fast, hit silent, get out like a ghost.
Diem extended his forearm, and used the force to unlock the doors, right after that 1 commando opened it, and Diem entered first, followed by his Jaegissary.

There were several people inside, all shocked and surprised with their barging in. Two, as far as he could count, had usual bio coats on, while other.. at least 3 were dressed as usual dirty mussel, probably there as guards.

Omon smiled, and was about to give the command.. as feeling of liquid fire running through his veins, hit him like a hammer. It was as though his inner being is contracting somehow..

"My midichlorians are rebelling.." ..while he was thinking, his Elite Commandoes, were so worried about him, due to his programing, that they allowed one of those two in lab coats, to grab a gun and fire at him.

He could only see a face of one the soldiers, standing swiftly in front of him. While, whatever was being fired, was hitting him in the back. But they were no blaster shots.

Omon, while shielded by his man, stumble backwards to exit the house.. "Ones in lab coats, alive! Kill thee others!" ..he said before slipping on the doorway and dropped on his ass and back.
He could only see as his six commandoes, like machines, pull out their short rifles and each fire precisely 2 shots, toward the enemy. Man who saved him from attack, had 4 vials stuck in to his back. he liquid was slowly disappearing in to the man's back.

He could hear 4-5 bodies drop to the floor, and then sounds of person wailing from pain. Four of his men disappeared from his view, he could hear one beating the person who was noisy.. probably the person who shot at him.

Then the soldier closest to the door and him, one shot with syringes, turned and spoke in calm voice.. "Lab coats secured, my Lord. Other liquefied. Cleaning the second floor now."

He stood up, slowly, still bit dizzy. Then look behind if anyone from the rest of the people noticed anything.. everything was quiet.
"Thank you.. turn around please".. on his command soldier obeyed right away. And Omon pulled 4 vials from his back, observing them with care.

"You.. feel ok?" on his question solder nodded.

"Guess it was meant for me. Get those nerds in white out, and toss them to the side of the house" realizing he cant get in to the house, for whatever reason, he used next fastest option.

In the darkness of the empty house yard, two.. doctor 'looking' people trembled in front of him. One was bleeding from a shoulder wound. But it was a clean through and through shot.

"What is this, that you fired at me?" Omon asked calmly.. "What did I feel when I entered in to the house? From the fear in your eye, you know what I am, it seems.. so speak"

But there was no reply. There was tears.. but still, no reply.

Closest commando to one of the two prisoners, used his elbow to plow him right across the nose. Blood fired out like a fountain.

"WHAT?!" ..after his more angrier question, other commando slide his finger in to the second man's projectiles hole, and started twisting.
He would scream, but his mouth were gagged right at the right time. His eyes were filling with tears, but his gaze was begging, proclaiming 'I'll talk'.

On Omon's nod soldiers stopped and lifted him up, while pulling other on the ground.
"Its.. it's a Force suppressor. Synthesized from th.. the gland of a Ysalamiri lizard.." his face was death-by-dread.. after he spoke those words. As though he said his only bargaining chip.

"Are you the chief.. scientist, on this little back-ally project?" Diem demanded to know.
Man nodded in fear.

Omon ignited his lightsaber from the hip, stabbing the one on the ground in to his neck. Commandoes let him go right away, and stood back up.
Doctor started to wet himself.

"Don't worry doc.. I got other plans for you. You're much more valuable alive. Before my men take you to my ship.. I need to know one more thing." he smiled, and shook his finger, as though saying 'naughty naughty'..

"I know you smart people can never just do ONE thing.. you must always explore everything to the END" Sith arm extended towards the man head, his fingers opening up as though they want to scoop inside..

"Sadly doc, I cant ask this question without a bit of help from the Force, to trust the answer.." man started to slowly move his face from side to side.. silent 'No' was repeated several times..

"Where is the antidote doc? Ysalamiri gotta turn his natural ability off at some point. Right?" man started to weep and shake, as the Dark Side of the Force pierced his brain like a butter.
​

---

 

[Adean Castor]

TAG: Eira Dyn

When Adean had agreed to help find the wayward princess, she hadn't intended on being tagged in for extraction, too. Looking back, she really should've known better. There were no missions half-completed in the Sith, especially at her stature. Every mission was 'complete or die trying', the latter of which she distinctly wanted to avoid.

Had it just been her and Eira against the galaxy, Adean would've very much thought the latter was inevitable. They were both relatively new in their trade and what of Eira Adean had seen so far suggested the other was not unlike a firecracker with her wrath. Useful in the right moment, deadly if unleashed prematurely. It seemed the task had fallen to Adean to decide when best to let Eira off the rails.

With a datapad in hand displaying a multitude of names and faces, 'Brassius' looked up from their supply-crate perch when the other acolyte approached. The shuttle was fueled and ready to drop them off wherever they just had to determine the best spot. "Reports say something about a revolution? That'll make things complicated - though if we get into whatever VIP sections this arena's got..." Surely, there were some watching Quinn's fights that the Tiss'kar if not the empire would reward them for removing from the playing field. It shouldn't be too difficult to sneak in while the rest of the area was revolting, too.

"How do you feel about playing wait staff? A little vengeance as a treat before rescuing your master." And a little buying time for the actual professionals to do the rescuing.

 

[Iuuna Talon]

Iuuna sat in the command chair aboard the Ebonspire, her silver eyes fixed on the swirling streaks of hyperspace beyond the viewport. The rage simmering beneath her composed exterior was barely contained, her thoughts dominated by one singular goal: retrieving Quinn.

"Susevfi," Iuuna began, her tone cold and deliberate, "I am nearing the system now and will be on the ground soon. This is not a request for aid, but merely an advisory." She told Gerwald Lechner and added, "I've already dispatched my Shadowbound ahead of me."

She ended the transmission before Gerwald could reply, her focus shifting to the battle ahead. Rising from her seat, she moved with purpose toward the deployment bay, where her personal guards awaited final instructions.

The Shadowbound Sentinels stood in disciplined silence, their dark armor gleaming faintly under the ship's lights. Each of them was handpicked for loyalty and skill, their abilities rivaling the best warriors in the galaxy. Iuuna's presence commanded their undivided attention.

"Spread out the moment you land," she instructed, her voice sharp and unwavering. "I want every lead, every whisper, every shadow that might tell us where they are holding her. Leave no stone unturned, no ally or informant unpressed. Use the credits we've allocated as needed—but let them know the consequences of deceit. We do not have time to waste."

Her hand rested briefly on the hilt of her lightsaber. "If they resist, remind them of why the galaxy fears Clan Talon."

The soldiers saluted, their helmets obscuring any emotion, but their intent was clear. They were ready to act. As they boarded their transport to Susevfi's surface, Iuuna lingered for a moment, her mind brimming with strategies.

She exhaled, steadying the tempest within her. Quinn wasn't just family—she was a symbol of the Echani strength that Iuuna refused to see broken.

The ship exited hyperspace with a lurch, the planet of Susevfi looming ahead. Iuuna's fingers tightened into fists as she gazed at the world below. "Your captors will regret this," she whispered to herself. "I'll make sure of it."

Iuuna knew very well she wouldn't be the only one looking for Quinn Varanin and opted to open her comms channel to an encrypted Sith network. "This is Iuuna Talon, my Shadowbound are planet side, I'll follow shortly I wish to coordinate with any in search of my cousin."

Kaila Irons | Trayze Tesar | Eira Dyn | Adean Castor ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Orbit of Susevfi - Aboard the Mors Mon
Tag: [OPEN]

______________________________________​

Darth Empyrean had started this mess, many, many moons ago.

Quinn Varanin aimed to fix it.

Srina and perhaps some of the other Sith present would finish it.

This was not a mission that the Sith Empress had been called or tapped to oversee nor had her oversight been requested. Her week was supposed to be full of reform meetings and exploring new courses in combat training for both the Academy and Praetorian Guard. Yet—Her time of respite had been called to a close because someone, clearly devoid of sense, had decided to take her godchild captive. She could not feel Quinn, could not see her, and could not get to her through dimensional travel. Something was blocking her. Someone had stolen, from her.

The pale woman swallowed or ignored many insults with grace.

This was not one of them.

"Lady Talon—The Mors Mon is in position. Permission to proceed?"

The computerized voice of the Advanced AI Typhojem interrupted her musings, seeming, to consider the potential for an outburst as its hologram kept a respectful distance. Her eyes drew up from the monitor slowly, watching, while the Second Legion seemed to be incredibly startled by the presence of a Star Dreadnought entering the system. It didn't matter how many warnings were communicated to their forces because the sheer size of the Mors Mon was a menace. The ship was a hulking monstrosity that pulled out of hyperspace with the same terror that a summa-verminoth might cause.

"Is the core of the landing castle ready?"

"Indeed. Deployment only requires that you confirm the quadrant. I chose a location where the blast wave might do the most damage, but, far enough from the Princess and our forces that losses are minimal. Necessary parties have been made aware to vacate the LZ at their earliest convenience."

The ivory-haired woman paused and reached back to adjust the furred collar of her armor while processing the full weight of what ground reports had offered up through the chain of command. The supernatural aspects of the blue, silver, and white garb would be neutralized if she stepped within a ysalamiri field or came into contact with a void stone…But it was still solid armor with a shield system that worked well with her style. She had her sword, Noana, which would go through similar issues to varying degrees, and her red-bladed lightsaber.

She had never needed more than that to end a fight and typically had access to much less. The demands of Susevfi didn't register, nor, was she interested in sparing the citizenry as her godchild had intended. That ship had sailed the very moment a soon-to-be-dead parasite had seen fit to lay hand or finger on one of the few things in the universe that she treasured. If they didn't realize who Quinn was before it would only be moments before the revelation was made. The rebellion was proof that they had knowledge of whom they had invoked, and that, should chill their blood and turn their hearts black.

Sith were not a white hat brigade coming to rescue a helpless princess.

They were an invasion force bent on destruction and control.

Though people often thought her to be reasonable…Srina Talon was not a good person. She was not hampered by ethical dilemmas when difficult situations presented themselves. She was a monarch who believed herself to be as moral as a hurricane. Empty, save the force of her gale. This left her pragmatic, definitive, and firm. These people, clearly, could not govern themselves.

Not with the open rebellion in city streets.

She would help with that.

Her landing castle would enforce the epitome of martial law and control the masses for the ineffective governor of this sector. The Mors Mon had stopped moving low in the orbit of the planet as a mass that would deliberately block the light of the sun. It would fill the skyline. Srina knew that others had come to the aid of the young woman she knew so well, but unlike them, she was prepared to do more than just lift her youngling from this world. She would break it. Remake, it—

—And burn anything that stood in her way, both for the insult, and for the colossal waste of time that had drawn down countless Sith from their ventures. Eshan would not forgive if this world cost them one of their precious daughters, nor, would Srina Talon. Few had ever seen her express an emotion as complicated as anger but that was about to change.

There was a moment where Quinn Varanin flashed into her mind. A brief moment when her presence swelled beneath the clouds and Srina reached for it as she always had. She could feel the beginnings of what would have been a very familiar storm and her finger tapped the city on the holo that it covered. No doubt, others in the Order would see it too.

Just when her mind connected with Quinn, just, when she could speak to her mentally the line was severed. Srina felt her teeth grind together while picking up communications from other units that were hunting for her godchild. Tempers were rising swiftly and Srina could feel how quickly things were taking a negative turn, even, from orbit. Within all the confusion…There would be a single point of focus that remained unwavering, in control, and without peer. Her silence was not a withdrawal but due to the knowledge of so many moving parts. She was a strategist, a tactician, and nothing good would ever come from so many different plans in motion.

The last thing she wanted to do was trip one of them or be tripped by them.

She could have threatened the Susevfi. She could have sent a missive across all channels declaring the intent of the Sith Order but the sheer volume of warships entering the system was enough to make even the most well-fortified planet shudder with terror. Speaking now was pointless.

Action was all that mattered.

The landing castle was aimed, primed, and waiting. When it landed everything in the vicinity would be hit with a kinetic wave. It would emit an EMP pulse to kill vulnerable electronics and communications. Sith Order tech was mostly shielded against electromagnetic interference, but Susevfi, wouldn't have that same privilege. This created isolation of the populace. Confusion. When that completed droid legions would be churned out with more in creation every moment. It wouldn't be long before the streets of the capital were filled with the sound of marching war droids.

They had orders to end the rebellion, lethally, if required.

They had orders to find and tag the Princess. Not to extract, yet. She had every faith that the young woman could take care of herself. She was strong, independent, and clever beyond her years.

Srina was there to end the discourse, once, and for all. She was there for her god child…

Just in case.

Just in case.

"Fire."​

​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Privateers, huh?

It was idle curiosity that had brought her to stop here, but it seemed she stumbled upon something rather useful. Their orders were to listen to the Sith, regardless of whom it might be? A dangerous prospect, considering the Sith's backstabbing nature. Right now, though, she could make use of it. Whatever was behind capturing Quinn, having soldiers who didn't need the Force would be helpful.

"Good. Come with me. The people here used something to bind a Sith Lord, and I plan to take that out. Shall we?"

She flashed a fanged smile before looking back over the street. She could feel it now, with all the Anima running through her veins. Dead spots. "This way."

Diodoros

 

[Astrid pentoghast]

Objective 2
Tags: Quinn Varanin / open
Equipment: Liber Infernalis / random dead jedis lightsabers

Astrid had been studying various things in a private conclave when she got news of susevfi she looked over the data pad. Her notes scattered around a table and old tomes and data pads sat stacked aswell about legends of traversing planes of reality she was curious if it was actually possible she was working on a potential spell to travel between them but it was taking time sure her new grimoire helped but it was still a task. She set the new datapad down as she grabbed the tome and a lightsaber from a deceased jedi she had slaughtered teleporting to the planet of susefvi.

She was met with death and destruction as she appeared planet the the nightsister understood what was needed and if they wanted a witch she was going to show them one as she walked the streets rioters charged her with makeshift weapons. "You wanted a witch hunt watch how a real witch can do" she said as she summoned her hatred blasting the charging rioters with green lightning as their skin fizzled and became leathered. As she drained the life out of them as they gradually turned into zombies under her control the 7 zombies with hollow holes for eyes and skin stretched over emaciated muscle and bone followed her with unnatural speed as she began her walk to find this princess turned failed ruler.

She had no attachments but she felt the touch of the kainite on the planet and heard carnifex assigned her to the planet maybe she had heard wrong gossip was never the sith sorceresses strongest point or something she put tons of interest in.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

TAG: Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Srina Talon | Iuuna Talon | Darth Malum of House Marr

“Sir, you’re being hailed.”

A voice crackled through his comms as his shuttle surveyed and scanned the surface for any sign of the tracker which Quinn Varanin had on her person. His hand went to the side of his helmet.

<<< “Put it through.” >>>

"Susevfi, I am nearing the system now and will be on the ground soon. This is not a request for aid, but merely an advisory." She told Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner and added, "I've already dispatched my Shadowbound ahead of me."

It was the voice of Iunna Talon. It seemed the broadcast went further than his ship alone. These upstarts and insurgents which had captured Quinn did not seem to be intelligent. If they had not contained their broadcast then it would only be a matter of time before others which Quinn found herself connected to would be in the system.

<<< “Copy.” >>>

It was the only reply the young Talon would receive from the Dread Wolf. It was not just a matter of rescuing the Echani princess, but this operation was about ensuring the populace understood that the noble woman had been an olive branch. Peace was a lie, the code taught, and when Quinn was once again back in her quarters on his ship, the Dread Wolf was determined to remind her of that lesson.

She offered a non-violent solution, and in turn the people of Susevfi had spit in her face. This was why Sith did not talk peace, but rather they demanded surrender.

“Lord Commander, another message is being relayed. This time it is from Kaila Irons .”

He nodded.

<<< “Fly over that storm, I want a visual,” >>> He commanded.

The pilots quickly complied.

As the ship tore through the atmosphere other reports came. Darth Malum of House Marr had entered the system. Gerwald had expected this. What he had not expected was the arrival of the Mors Mon. The moment it entered the system the Dread Wolf could feel her. His mistress Srina Talon had arrived.

She would not be happy.

When it came to Quinn, Gerwald did not make decisions without at least informing her of what her goddaughter was doing. The Wolf told her she had asked for the chance to be the solution on Susevfi. Even though the situation was of the girl’s own making, Gerwald felt responsible for her, and accountable to the Empress for anything which may happen.

“We are receiving another hail, my Lord.”

Gerwald nodded again, knowing.

“All parties have been warned to clear the landing zone… clear the landing zone for what?”

The eyes of the pilots looked at him knowing what the Dread Queen was capable of, but they did not know what was in her possession. Gerwald did, and it suddenly made sense as to why Srina had brought the Mors Mon.

<<< “The landing castles. When they hit it will cause an EMP, we do not want to be in range of it. Get us out of here.” >>>

Gerwald tapped into the frequency which was reserved for the Second Legion. He knew Kaila Irons would get the message.

<<< “The Empress brought the landing castles. They will create an EMP on impact. If you are vulnerable, get out of range. I am sending you the coordinates now.” >>>

Gerwald took his helmet off and looked at the pilot.

“Relay that message to Iuuna Talon as well!”

The Dread Wolf reached out through the force to his mistress, Srina Talon .

<< "I will see to it she is brought back safe." >>

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Command Bunker
Objective: BYOO
​

The air in the underground command bunker was thick with tension, the stale scent of sweat and fear mingling with the surprise and shock. Cramped and dimly lit, the room was an unremarkable haven for the rebels who had staked everything on this uprising. Maps and crude battle plans were strewn across a central table, the surface stained with the residue of spilled drinks and desperation. Around it, the rebel leaders, most of them hardened fighters with grim faces and twitching hands, argued in raised voices. Their fear was palpable—an oppressive force that made the already suffocating space feel even smaller. The Sith were in orbit. Annihilation seemed imminent.

Amid the chaos, a figure stood apart, cloaked in a flowing robe that seemed to drink in the weak light of the room. The intricate patterns embroidered into the fabric shimmered faintly, like whispers of stars caught in shadow. The hood concealed their face entirely, a dark void that gave no hint of emotion or humanity. When they moved, it was with an unnerving grace, each step measured, each gesture precise, as though they commanded the very air around them. They were a ghost among men, a phantom of purpose and power.

The rebels' voices rose again, louder this time, as panic spread like a contagion through the room. One slammed a fist on the table, barking accusations at another. A third began shouting about surrender, about the futility of resisting the Sith Empire. Their fear was turning to chaos, their unity unraveling before it had truly been tested.

And then, the figure spoke.

The sound was chilling. A chorus of whispers, layered and ethereal, as though the voice echoed across the void of the Force itself. It was not loud, yet it silenced the room instantly. The weight of those words, spoken with the gravity of countless unseen presences, was impossible to ignore.

"Enough."

The single word cut through the din, commanding silence with the finality of a blade severing a thread. The rebel leaders froze, their gazes drawn irresistibly to the shrouded figure. Fear flickered in their eyes, but so did something else—a reluctant awe, a desperate hope.

"You disgrace yourselves with your bickering," the voice continued, each syllable resonating with an unnatural harmony. "Do you think the Sith are divided like you? Do you think they falter? No. They are strong because they are ruthless, united by their purpose, however twisted it may be. If you wish to survive this, you must do the same."

The whispers filled the room, sinking into the bones of all who listened. There was no passion in the voice, no anger—only an unyielding certainty, a calm that was somehow more terrifying than fury.

"The streets must be held. Order must be restored. Your people cry out for leadership, and all they see are cowards squabbling over scraps of power. Rally them. Arm them. Use them. You speak of freedom, but freedom will not save you if you cannot first seize control."

One of the rebel leaders, a grizzled man with a scar running down the length of his jaw, mustered the courage to speak. "You talk of control, but we're outnumbered! The Sith fleet has us surrounded, their soldiers already strike us down, their war machines trample our dead beneath them, and you—whoever you are—think we can hold them off?"

The off-hand rejection, the whoever you are, came from less the unknown and more the cryptic nature of the figure. The figure had given them the plan, the ability, the seemingly endless outreach to fight this battle. She was in all essence the devil on the shoulder of their movement, but it’s purpose remained hidden, its true intentions unknown to them.

The figure turned toward him, the motion slow and deliberate. The hooded head tilted slightly, as though observing him with an otherworldly detachment. When they spoke, the whispers were softer, yet somehow more piercing, as if they were speaking directly into his soul.

"You are already defeated in your mind. That is why you will die. But not all here share your weakness."

A gloved hand emerged from the folds of the robe, slender and claw-like. It gestured toward the comms station at the far end of the room. "The insurgents in the northern district are pinned down. Reinforcements must reach them within the hour, or they will be lost. The eastern barricades are faltering. Multiple complexes have already fallen near our priority target. Send your most loyal fighters to hold them. And the western perimeter..." The voice paused, the whispers coalescing into a single, cold tone. "Burn it. Set charges to collapse large buildings and let the fires draw their attention. We will ambush them with the very infrastructure itself..."

“It’s no question the Sith will achieve a battlefield victory. But in their arrogance, we have enough time for the rebel leadership to find refuge within the Galactic Alliance.”

“Leave the firebrands to die, they can serve as the meal on which the Sith will be satisfied.” She spoke with no inflection.

The rebels hesitated, glancing at one another, their doubt warring with the eerie compulsion of the figure's words. Then, one by one, they nodded. Orders were relayed through the comms, voices steadying as resolve replaced fear. The figure watched in silence, their presence a silent catalyst for the transformation.

But beneath the shadow of their hood, hidden from all, there was turmoil.

The Echani princess. They had warned the rebels against this target, had argued for another symbol to fuel the rebellion's flames. But the fools had seen Quinn as the perfect choice—a figure of privilege and beauty, a beacon of Sith stability that could be torn down to ignite the hearts of the oppressed. And so, she was taken. Now, the planet writhed in chaos, and the Sith descended like carrion crows. It was a mistake. A costly one.

The whispers softened, almost inaudible, as if the figure spoke not to the room but to the Force itself. "Fate has its designs, even when we seek to deny them."

They turned their attention back to the comms, their voice regaining its eerie harmony. "The arena must be secured. Whatever resources you have, direct them there. The princess cannot be allowed to fall. Not yet."

A younger rebel, barely more than a boy, hesitated. "But... isn't she their enemy? Why protect her?"

The figure's hooded head tilted again, the faint gleam of their metallic mask catching the light. The whispers deepened, carrying the weight of unseen truths. "Because some pieces are more valuable on the board than others. Protect her, and you will see victory beyond what you can imagine. Fail, and your cause dies here."

They knew what the figure meant. If she died at the hands of some arrogant and blind rebels, or some uncaring mercenaries, the Sith would be the least of their worries.

Serina however knew the truth. Quinn’s destiny was in the hands of others now. It was not her place to intervene.

But that didn’t matter, Serina was a lie, a false statement, an identity conjured by the Dark Side itself to mask its true intentions, a mask within a mask.

The boy swallowed hard and nodded, rushing to relay the command. The figure turned away, their cloak billowing like smoke as they moved toward the shadows at the edge of the bunker. There, they stood silent and still, their presence a looming reminder of the power they wielded.

But beneath the mask, beneath the whispers, a storm raged. The princess meant more than the rebels could understand, more than the Sith above could comprehend. Sacrifices had to be made, and the prophecy demanded its due. Yet for the first time, the figure felt the weight of regret. Not for the chaos they had sown, but for the risk they had brought upon one who mattered far more than they had ever intended.

The Dark Side swirled around them, feeding on their conflict, amplifying their power. It whispered to them as they whispered to the rebels, a cycle of manipulation and influence that bound them ever tighter to its grasp. They embraced it, let it fuel their resolve. There was no room for doubt. Not now. Not ever.

The Sith would come, as expected. They would clash, revealing their truths in the chaos. Loyalties would be tested. Rivalries would emerge from their slumber. And through it all, the figure would watch, learn, and guide the currents of fate toward the prophecy that could not be denied.

The war had been won. Her other clandestine operation has gone off without a hitch. The Sith were all brought to a single, unremarkable world.

And if they could be fooled…

 

[Credius Nargath]

Dread, it is something natural, something primal, something which those who face the full might of the dark side knew all too well. The instinct to survive, the will to live, the natural instinct to create offspring, it was all a result from inate, in-born dread towards the end of one's own life, yet in the wake of a kind of dread of such unspeakable magnitude, of such unbound horror, men and women who professed to be fighters, who dedicated their lives to the strength of their mind and their body, would see both their will and their fortitude crumble and collapse...

The droid cohorts continued to march forward in two columns, driving away the rioting people with ruthless return fire, the streets underneath their metal feet slick with blood, the walls of the ruined buildings around them stained with soot, the electrifying, buzzing hiss of heated muzzles giving a dark undertone to the screams of fear, the yells of confusion, the roars of defiance.

The streets shook with every step the cohorts of droids made, marching rhytmically without skipping a beat, like the drums of war, each footstep made by the thousands of droids brought low the moral of those who dared to defy the Sith Empire. Yet, even in the chaos of the capitol, gripped by the anarchic spirit of rebellion with reckless abandon, the worst atrocities had yet to be revealed and enacted. For as the droids were marching, they were faced with barricades made put of dragged and turned-over vehicles, benches and other street furniture ripped from the stones and metal attachments and hastily cobbled together to form a sort of makeshift defense or rather a somewhat premature obstacle to the encroaching forces of the Sith Empire.

From the barricades hundreds of rebels, rioters and misguided cityfolk started firing off their blasters, with a heavy repeater blaster canon having been acquired from the remains of a local garrison of guardsmen, all of this was now being unleashed upon the droid army marching towards the barricade, from the first column to approach the barricade, the first line of droids started to get overwhelmed by the repeated shots and even if half of the shots were missing their initial targets, with the tightly packed formation of the droids there were still droids caught by the shots, return fire was possible, but made harder by the barricade's height and surprising sturdiness despite its makeshift nature.

It was then, that the air grew cold, the feeling of fear washing over all sentient beings on what had now essentially turned into a battlefield. For right in front of the barricade, a black fog started to converge, forming into a spiral crackling with vile and abhorrent energy as a masked and armored being stepped out of the spiral, draped with a richly embroidered purple and golden cloak, this being was none other than the Lord of Hunger himself, slowly emerging from the darkness and calmly assessing the situation. While his arrival and immediate presence brought forth an unnatural silence in the air, his attention turned towards other places within the city. He could sense them, their scent, their delicious strength and connection to the force, other sith were doing their part in order to end this farce of a rebellion, to nip the spirit of the people of Susvfi into the bud with ruthless and unparallelled violence.

When his attention turned back towards the rebellious folk manning the barricade, a lone blast of energy managed to glance off of the side of the monstrous being's mask. Tilting his head a bit to the side, his gold and crimson eyes turned to those shivering and holding out behind the barricades. No words were spoken by the Lord of Hunger, for by but a mere movement of both his arms towards the front, by merely raising both hands a bit upwards, a handful of terrifying droids of large stature and remarkable speed burst forth from the still spiraling black fog, throwing themselves unto the barricade and climbing over it like terrifying spiders, as if possessed by demons from the void, these droids quickly reached the top of the barricade, unleashing hellfire in the form of force breaker rounds into the masses behind the barricades.

From out of the ruined buildings surrounding the droid army and the Lord of Hunger, people started to throw with rocks, cutlery and other readily available projectiles, making it clear that not even the reveal of the Scelerati had been enough to quell the rebellious fervor of those within the capitol.

The ground crackled, when the dark fog behind the Lord of Hunger dissipated, or rather seemed to move towards the abominable force user, with the currents of the very air seemingly changing and turning towards him, his armored hands slowly moved upwards, the air slowly becoming saturated with the very force itself, before from each hand a torrent of lightning crackled and erupted, coursing through the air without pauze or hesitation, each bolt of lightning burried itself into the walls of the buildings, seemingly guided by the very hunger of the being who controlled this terrible lightning, the bolts zapped from one person to another, disintegrating their molecules, destroying the very connections between atoms before passing on to the next victim; like an ever expanding spiders' web, the lightning began to remove dozens, hundreds, thousands of rebellious spirits from the board.

And as this performance was enough to momentarily stun the rioters at the barricade, the Lord of Hunger moved his hand forwards towards the makeshift barricade, redirecting the force lightning to traverse towards the barricade and blast it to smithereens in a fell swoop. With this obstacle gone, the droid army raised their weapons again and began to unleash hellfire upon the dazed rioters, their marching ressumed at a much brisker pace.

"Break their spirit, mangle their muscle and bone," Raising his left arm forward, the Lord of Hunger gave his clear and damning order. "These fools need to understand the very insignificance of their dreams, their desires and their lives."

TAG: Darth Carnifex | Darth Imperius | Kaila Irons | Diodoros | Quinn Varanin | Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Orion Pavond]

SUSEVFI - ARENA - RUBBLE
Quinn Varanin | Gerwald Lechner | Kaila Irons | Eira Dyn | Iuuna Talon | Trayze Tesar | Darth Malum of House Marr | Omon Kaa / Darth Diem | Adean Castor

When a Sith princess makes public appearances on a planet ripe for the taking of the Sith Empire, it was the type of news that caught the attention of any inquisitive eye. It took a much sharper set of skills to find where and when these appearances would take place. Orion was not there to cause trouble. If he did, he doubted he would make it off the planet with all his limbs intact. No, he was to simple observe and report back any of his findings. Well, if this had been an officially sanctioned mission.

No, this was a more private affair. Orion had been conducting this reconnaissance on his own time. All appeared to be going well. Nothing of particular importance or overtly dramatic. Simple publicity stunts and politics, if politics could ever be called simple. Her plan might have worked too. The way she tried revitalizing the planet, its economy, and its people.

An overall net positive if it were not for the net negative of the planet being under the control of the Sith Empire.

Then it happened. Her mistake. The subtle hook into his mind, grasping at a purchase it would never find. He took it in stride, taking that information and keeping it for later use.

But there were others who took far more exception to that than he did. He watched as they brought her down. There was nothing that could be done here, in this moment. As much as he held skills in other arenas outside of the Force, the numbered odds were stacked against him here. Too many too fight. It would be like fighting an army by himself if the crowd decided to mob both the princess and himself.

So, instead, he took to the shadows and espionage. Tracking her movements and the movements of those who took her. Waiting and biding his time. He had overheard chatter of keeping her alive for an arena. How may he have heard this chatter? Integrating himself into the outer echelons of this group had not been too difficult. It had been a series of testing and prodding the defenses. Finding who was susceptible to persuasion and who was not. What hands to shake and what hands to break. If he ran in, who knows if he would end up the same as the princess?

No, he needed to be smart about this and take his time. Even if it meant the princess would have to wait. A successful and easy escape would be worth the wait, so long as they kept said princess alive.

However, the backbreaking labor of removing all this rubble was something Orion had not planned on signing up for. But it had been a sign from above, quite literally. Even now, the storm clouds took their time to disperse in the aftermath of the princess's true power. This all but confirmed the princess was alive if worse for wear. The rebels had been foolish enough to allow her to use her abilities for a brief moment. Although it amounted to nothing more than a lightshow and a flash of lightning blowing apart a large section of the arena.

Orion knew a flare for help when he saw it. No way she would exert herself on such an overt and obvious tactic. No, he suspected it was to give her allies her location or perhaps a distraction as she focused on sending a message out another way. Whatever the case, Orion kept his head down for the time being. The data he had right now was this. The princess was here. Where specifically was another question. It would take too long and be too suspicious.

At least, that had been his initial assessment if it had not been for the sudden appearance of numerous warships.

Perhaps, this distraction could be to his benefit. And a benefit to the planet Susevfi and its people. Before the Sith overran them all and slaughtered them by the dozen for the insult. Perhaps, there was a shred of it worth saving.

It was time to get to work. Orion slid sand and pebbles into his pocket from the arena ground and began to run further towards the interior of the arena, same as anyone else would have. With the commotion, someone would send guard for the princess or try to move her to another location before the Sith sound her. It was a simple and predictable behavior. One that Orion would capitalize on as he tired listening and focusing his senses through the commotion.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————​

Listening to the chaos, Orion's eyes darted upwards as he watched those closest to the arena ( Kaila Irons ) make their move. Jumptroopers and someone rather important and formidable. Perhaps, Orion could utilize their numbers if he played his cards right. Unlikely, but it could work. However, that would mean bringing something equally important to the board as a bargaining chip. So as he shuffled past and around the various soldiers and their bickering, Orion kept listening.

At first, conversations by the dozen. Anything or anyone mentioning a cell or the princess ( Quinn Varanin ). If that failed, perhaps he could spot a communicator or keys. Something that denoted the more important people from the rest. Someone no one would pay any mind if they went missing. Right now, he needed more information. Anything. A change in apparel, a micro-expression, or gear that was different from another person.

His eyes and mind raced. Maybe he needed to look somewhere that could hold a Sith without issue. After all, they had nullified her powers within seconds. So instead of reaching out and trying to find a specific person or item, perhaps he should reach out across the arena and see where he would be met with resistance or a void. Something that should be there but was not. Like a blind person feeling for the missing piece of a completed puzzle.

Such a simple solution. Why didn't he think of it before? Perhaps there was something to be said of the stress of the situation leading to quick thinking.

All he had to worry about was something or someone distracting him from the task at hand, or someone spotting him amongst the crowd as an individual who should not be here. Unlikely, given the confusion, but Orion did not need someone mistakenly directing him towards the battle instead of remaining here.

Where is it? The missing piece?

It had to be here. Somewhere. He needed to find it before anyone else.

 

[Omon Kaa / Darth Diem]

Wearing : New Outfit
Location : City center, near Arena / Planet Susevfi
Time : 3 hours after abduction of Quinn Varanin

​

---

The Susevfi scientist was escorted to his ship, accompanied by 2 Jaegissary.
Omon rolled in his hand several vials of yellow liquid, minus the rest he gave to be sent to the ship. Antidote for the midichlorian suppressor. Apparently when the lizard developed its defense system to fight off force sensitive hound-wolves, he would use a gland to release that which suppress, but it also has a smaller gland which brings those chemicals back in to balance, once the presence of danger is gone.
And from that, this scientist synthesized its counterpart. All in a leaking house on a half destroyed planet.

"Amazing" ..Omon thought, while walking through the part of city which the doctor send him too.
Saying his men used it as a meeting place, to deliver the Force-suppressing substance.
He didn't know who or how the person looked, just that it was here, and it was for the money.

In distance, raged quite a battle, seemed like Second Legion was probably playing fetch with enemies collar bones. Unless the enemy was actually prepared for this whole shindig.. But that wasn't his problem at the moment.

Strangely enough, even with all this war going on around them, people were still doing their normal routine around them. Selling pots and pens, broken droid parts, barely eatable food, Galactic food packs.. "yuck"
Guess people get use to war, when it is so frequent.

Even the few ladies of the night were outside. Talking loudly and without a pardon. One in particular.
Omon's lips grinned, reveling his fang, as he started to move closer to her. Signaling his men to keep the distance.

She was a beautiful looking, bit underfed, Twi'Lek.. scantily yet somehow extremely classy dressed.

She saw him closing in, so she smiled, and toss her left lekku on to her shoulder, bashfully looking.

"Such a vision.." he took her hand, and gave it a kiss. Other girls giggled and moved away.
"Such style.. you are not like others, are you?" he asked, while pulling her gently by the both hands, chuckling, biting his lower lip..

She was a pro, but still, every woman likes flattery, if it looks sincere.. "Oh I'm really, really not.." she bit her lip as well, signaling her willingness.
"I am very expensive darling. In fact most men stay clear of me.. are you first time in the Arena District?" she asked, confused for a moment.

"Oh no, I'm not, to be honest I know of you and your reputation, but I still thought.. we all might die tonight, I might as well Try" he smiled, hoping he said the right thing, as they were gliding in to darkness.

"He does get sooo jealous.. it can be such a jet sometimes. But I like that you are braver then others.." she smiled, pushing him in to the wall, then skillfully lifted her leg around his waist.

They both smiled, revealing eachothers fangs, he could feel her warm breath on his lips..
His hand slowly moved from her naked hip, across her stomach, and on to her neck, squeezing gently. She smiled even wider..
"I like where you heading boy.." she proclaimed as her eyes closed, and lips pouted to kiss his.

Second later they were widely open, and she did not see his face anymore. Her feet dangled just above the ground, as his fingers held her in the air. She would scream, but she could not. She will fight, so Omon spoke before that happened.

"When I put you down, you will not scream, you will not run. If you do, I promise you, you will die that very second. If you obey, no harm will come to you, from me." she wanted to nod as affirmative, but she couldn't, so her eyes moved up and down. Blood was pumping in to her brain slower and slower.
"I'll take that as a Yes".. he let her fall on her feet, but she dropped on to her knees, coughing.
"I might have overdid it. But I don't got time for Mind Extraction anymore.." he thought with a faintest of sorrows.

"That silk top you have.. You probably don't know this, but it's an Eshani Silk. Even dirty and ruined as it is.. you must have felt that fabric right away. Royalty silk.." he smiled.. she stop coughing, and looked up with dread. She understood.

"Who gave it to you? And where are they now?" he asked, while looking around the streets, hidden in darkness.

She started to talk too fast, too panicky.. "My boyfriend, or not boyfriend, my customer, but he is my main customer.. even though Eleyna says that he is too rough and I should.."

He had to snap his fingers..
"Focus dear"

"He is a pit fighter. He spoke la.. lately, a lot about the Sith..a a and.."

"Where!?" his tone was calm, but commanding.

Her tattooed arm pointed.. "Arena, they are always there." she look up at him, eyes begging for freedom.

"They?"

"He and others.. they are good gu.. am, he and maybe 10 other fighters. B-but, he could not be capable for all this.. not him, please, spare just him.." tear started to roll down her cheek..

"For the love of.." he ripped lower part of his tunic and toss it at her.. "Give me that top you wear, put this on until you're home."
She almost tore it off and toss it in to his hands, while he let few golden credit ingots drop in exchange.
"Go.. breath word about this to anyone, I'll know you did it, there's no one else!" of course this was total lie, and he was wondering if his commando should tazze her just in case, but her eyes were true. She was scared enough.

He looked at the piece of silk in hand, then at the Arena not far from him. Still knew too little to risk it.

"Hate doing this.."

He bought a copper bowl from one of the rat merchants, then went back to the darkness, sat down, placed the bowl in front of him, and emptied half of his cantina's water in to it.
His men created a diamond formation around him.

With left hand he levitated the silk top above his palm, and with his right, he cracked a small whip of lighting from just one finger. It creped its way, crackling and screaming, in to the water bowl.

"Qy nu visita sh'jatau tu,
Qy nu tvarka kia tu!

Aukoti nun tave ziurti!
Anga nuyak third akute, tegu nun ziur tave distanced untold!

Parod nun anas which nuyak kairys raka iezkon!!"

Second tin crack of lighting spread from middle finger, sprawling inside the bowl. The water started to turn like a small whirlpool.
Omon's head yanked itself backwards, and his closed eyes moved under his eyelids.

His gaze jumped from his body, up in to the air.. it saw a great Mors Mon entering the planetary system.. just before his gaze started falling down, fast, spinning. He knew the place it was falling from his flight over, it was just beside him, Arena indeed.

But then his gaze jumped again, bouncing like a child's ball, falling through the ground of arena.. but bouncing again! This time it was a violent bounce, as though something is repelling his vision to pass.

Third lighting cracked from small finger, entering the bowl.. and his forearm started to bleed. His teeth clinched.. as he pulled his gaze to side, like he was pulling a long rope with a jet-pack on its end.. gaze fell through the ground, and moved toward the brick building, moving toward specific part of.. but bounce again, stronger then before.. he could sense now blood spilling from his arm, not dripping.

The gaze lashed, like an angry tornado, but it could not enter the underground building.. it simply raged on the same spot, screaming at the wall.

Omon opened his eyes and pushed himself away from the water.. steaming liquid, now black, and thick, bubbled inside the copper. Silk top fell in to his left, while his right fell beside his body, open sores with blood pouring out.

Sense of Dark Side was strongly felt inside him. It made him smile through grimace of pain.

His commandoes were upon him like shadows, proving aid to his wounded arm.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, as his breath left in and out as though he was running half a cycle.

His ear peace buzzed.. "Am, Sir.. we got a Imperial Super Star Destroyer approaching. Well, Approached.. we couldn't receive you for the past minute".. it was the hex he performed, it jammed his com.

"We had to take off from the ground my lord.. Mors Mon is dropping.. am, something? We heard from sliced open commlink of Second Legion. We will be back for you. Turn your electrics off Sir!" officer sounded genuinely sorry.
Him bailing was fair.. as far as Omon thought. He had important cargo, and they would lose their transport if they stayed.

"Drop a crakin Stardestroyer on my head.." he cough out blood.. "But I found her.." grabbing one of his man with his left, and slowly tried to get up.. while his right was still being patched up.

"I found her!

..I think.."

​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

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

It was always so dark. Quinn watched as shadows flickered on the wall from the candles that burned in the hallways of the fortress or jail she was being held in. From what she gathered, the rustic building was built with whatever the revolutionists could gather. She had caught glimpses of old weaponry from the Alliance, the RTL, and the Empire. Men who had entered her cell to beat her until she collapsed had small stones around their necks. These stones emitted an aura that made her sick to her stomach. In her most recent interaction with these men, she had thrown up on his chest - which only made the beating worse.

"We've rebuilt the coliseum," A voice she had grown to hate echoed through the quiet chambers of her cell. She didn't move, remaining defiant. "You're going to fight in a gauntlet - if you live, you can earn your freedom." There was something sinister in his voice, but she tried to ignore it. The door opened, and he entered and grabbed the girl, dragging her to her feet. Bruises and cuts scattered along her arms and legs. Even the cut he had made on her arm didn't seem healing. Her state confused him; even without the Force, most of them would still heal, wounds scabbing over and bruises fading as time progressed.

His hand ripped the makeshift bandage off her arm; no infection, but the wound would still be fresh even after several hours. "What is wrong with you?" He questioned, but the Princess remained silent. The man stared at her, trying to figure out what had changed in their ways of imprisoning force users. They had done this before, but none reacted like her. She was constantly sick, her mind dazed and confused, while still remaining the defiant nature of her stature.

While he started trying to figure things out, knowing that if he returned her in this state, he would be dead - something caught his eye in the flickering flames. Stepping forward, he saw the locket and ring on the delicate chain. "How did you keep this from us?" his voice light and teasing - almost excited to see the jewelry. Dirty hands grasped the last gift she received from Vesta and ripped it off her neck. Quinn horrified, tried to fight back, but with her arms and legs chained, there was little she could do. "I like this," he said as he pocketed it - finally, he had gotten a reaction out of her. No words, but she spat his face, but instead of hitting her, the man laughed. "There's the fight you'll need it; prepare her. We have a gauntlet to watch."

Unlike before, Quinn wouldn't be able to have access to the Force. Her force storm had given the Empire a beacon, a place for her to be found. Fixing the coliseum meant they could apply more nullification resin - enough to make the general area where the Colosseum stood void of the Force. Quinn was hooded and led up the stairs, her bare feet cracking and bleeding from the constant abuse. The walk was long; it felt longer than before, which only indicated she wasn't being held near the coliseum anymore. Cursing, she knew she had messed up with using the Force Storm. Once more, her hubris caused her problems. They continued to walk until the hood was ripped off her head, and she found herself standing in the center of the arena. Hundreds of revolutionists packed in, cheering and screaming for entertainment as their brethren defended the spectacle. "Today, the Princess tries to fight her way home back to her faithful hound." The crowd laughed and jeered at her misfortunes. Quinn felt the rage burn in her chest as they unchained her hands, but instead of feeling the Force return to her - nothing happened. Confusion etched across her face as she looked at her hands, flexing her fingers, wanting something to happen.

"We are protected from you now, Witch. You need to fight like us," the man sneered over the intercom, and the crowd cheered once again. As he finished, a gate opened, and one of the men who had beaten her previously entered the arena. From what Quinn deduced, it was simple enough. She would fight until there were no more, and she could go home.

Then, the others wouldn't need to come for her; she could get herself out of this mess alone. The Princess smiled through the overwhelming pain that weighed down her body. She is the Eshan Princess, Echani, and a warrior to her core. "FIGHT!" The arena erupted as the man changed forward, his body leaping into the air with great strength. Quinn watched his foolish opening move and slowly gilded her way back, remaining low to the ground till he landed. The moment his weight shifted, Quinn found her opening. Despite being cut off from the Force, the woman had been trained in Echani martial arts from birth.

Quinn grounded herself as she kicked the man. As he landed, her foot connected with his exposed throat, and he fell to his knees. Grasping at his throat, she twisted on the same foot and snapped a second kick to his cheek. The Force of the blow twisted his frame, and he fell on his face. No longer moving, the crowd gasped. The man she had faced was someone who won several matches, and he had been beaten in a matter of seconds. The crowd was silent, and Quinn stood there waiting. "Next," she spoke through heavy breaths. Even the two kicks were enough to throw her body into a spiral.

Another man left the opposite tunnel, but he wasn't alone. Another man left the tunnel with him but towered over the previous opponent. Quinn clutched the brown smock she wore; the strain was already starting to weigh on her. The men charged, trying to flank her. Quinn listened to their footsteps, and she quickly realized that the man flanking her right was the faster of the pair. Her focus would remain on him. They moved, and the one on the right stepped and moved to punch the girl. At the same moment, Quinn reached out and clutched his forearm. Using his weight against him, Quinn forced him to the ground. He grunted, and the crowd cheered with the woman, bringing the large man down. She stomped his face into the dirt, knocking him out. Quinn used his head as a launching pad and kicked the man, flanking the left in the side of the head. She landed on him as he fell, and her hands wrapped around his throat; anger fueled her actions, and the man scrambled to try and pull her hands off his throat. "STOP," the man shouted. Quinn looked up at him, the grip remaining on the man's throat, but it was loosened enough so he could breathe.

"DO WE KILL HIM OR LET HIM LIVE?" As much as he hated to be shouting for the death of one of his best - it was the show. He promised these people a spectacle. "Kill, Kill, Kill," The crowd chanted, and the man nodded, and Quinn looked down at the man as her grip tightened. His death meant she could be free. Before she could finally end his life and give the people what they wanted, the looming shadow of the Mors Mon appeared in the atmosphere. Looking up, Quinn released the man, and he rolled over, gasping for air.

It was as if she was looking at a god, a hero who had come to save her. The girl laughed and turned her attention to the man who was the mastermind of this entire ordeal. Pointing at him, she laughed. "You're screwed!" The crowd gasped and began to filter out of the coliseum. They remembered what that monstrosity meant.

"Deals off then, girl!" The man lowered a weapon, and as he finished, the gun fired a dart, and several more fired upon the woman in the arena, and she fell. As her face hit the dirt, she cursed, realizing she was just as screwed. The men around her came to their senses and grabbed her by the collar of the brown sack she wore. Dazed from the strain of the fighting and once more pumped with anti-force drugs, Quinn watched as the Mors Mon opened fire, the emp surging the planet.

"The comms are down! Are you kidding me?" Shouting echoed around her, but she soon found the bag back over her head, and she was dragged. Despite the former chants of hate, the crowd rumbled, cheering her name. She fought, she won, and they wanted more.

Oppositions: Kaila Irons Darth Malum of House Marr Iuuna Talon Omon Kaa / Darth Diem Orion Pavond Trayze Tesar Eira Dyn Adean Castor Serina Calis Srina Talon Gerwald Lechner

As the Empire began to chase where they had seen the brewing storm from earlier, several resistance groups began to gather. They were armed with basic weapons, but it was what the weapons shot that was the most dangerous. Anti-Force grenades and anti force ammunition the Sith Assassins were known to use were the primary weaponry.

Scattering the area around the coliseum, they began to hide in the rundown buildings, spreading Nullification resin and hiding void stones in places to slow down the Sith Forces.

With these void stones and the nullification resin, the city suddenly became void of the Force. Any force user who entered the city would suddenly feel the pain of being cut off from the powerful weapon they trained to use. Each group of revolutionaries wore void stones to protect them from the surge of Sith that bled into their city.

They wouldn't allow these monsters to beat them; they would fight equally. Quinn would burn at the stake if it was the last thing they would do.

Their freedom was the most important goal, more than their lives.

TLDR: Many Anti-Force Revolutionists flooded the city to fight the Sith while creating an area void of the Force. They attack with anti-force darts to further poison the Sith Force Users and equalize the playing field.

​

​

 

[Orion Pavond]

SUSEVFI - ARENA - HALLWAY
Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | @Anyone Else It May Concern

Nothing. Too many defenses were being set up. Too much Force nullification occurring at once. Too many voids to choose from. Before the general feeling of being completely and forcefully cut from one of his more versatile talents. No longer was that power or additional awareness. But at the end of the day it was a tool. A safety blanket. He lived life before without it before he became a knight and he would continue to live life without it right in this moment.

His hybrid biology would more than ensure that as he soldiered through the temporary discomfort. It might have been a small sniffle or headache. He suffered much worse than this. Running through the hallways as he heard the ruckus and cheers of the crowd, Orion could only postulate that there was only one reason for everyone's uproar. Quinn was no longer locked away. She was out there. Which meant he needed to make a plan and fast.

Already, weapons and stockades were built by the dozen as hardened hands and minds began to forge defenses against the onslaught of the Sith. Orion nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard the deafening boom and shockwaves of the cannon firing upon the earth of Susevfi. His eyes darted left and right as his stance widened and adrenaline surged through his veins.

I need to hurry up. Now.

Still, that analytical side of him did not fall to silence even amongst the chaos. Something was off. That was no ordinary ordinance. No, there was something else. A small detail he was missing.

What was it?

Confusion. A few soldiers smacking comm links. An EMP. That's what that was on top of being, well, whatever that had been other than bright and possibly very destructive. A warning shot or something worse? Orion did not want to stick around to find out.

Oh, perfect. At least no one can call for help . . .

Running up a flight of stairs to get to higher ground and view the arena as a whole, Orion spotted the unconscious Quinn dragged away. This time towards one of the arena exits. If he hurried, he could cut them off before losing them. At least, he could try and follow them to where they might be taking her. Rushing past the soldiers readying themselves for the fight of their (likely cut short) lives, Orion pushed through crowds before his boots continued to crash against the hallway floor as he pushed himself. That alien biology making him far faster than the norm, almost leaping with each step if he did not pace himself to maintain a more inconspicuous run.

A hurried run. Like he needed to provide support somewhere soon, like he had been assigned somewhere to offer further defense against the Sith.

Before slowing carefully by several paces as he neared a corner and quickly glanced around it. A flash of a bagged head and several guards struck his vision as his attended target before he adjusted his posture, keeping an eye on where the group traveled as he pretended to keep his focus on securing entrances and exits. The problem with a militia such as this? Everyone was too busy with their own business to take notice of him.

After all, he wore the garb and the weapons he carried were meant to kill Force users. To complete the look, his posture was off and unprofessional. Like a common farmer or lower class citizen conscripted into a madman's agenda. Limited training meant limited practice and Orion would look the part as he snuck covert looks.

Before steadily and carefully following the guards, hiding behind a corner or sneaking into a room or maintaining a defensible position. And each time Orion would find something to change his appearance a little more and more. Never be the same soldier. Maybe a red cap or a white bandana. An inside out vest or a lack of a coat.

He needed to continue following them. Just long enough to know where they held her so he could map out the easiest method of escape. Or perhaps when there was a lack of security.

Then perhaps he could make his move before the communications came back on. But he needed just the right opportunity before he committed. And commit he would.

Wait for it . . . wait for it . . .

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Location: On the way to Susevfi
Theme: Fear Me
Equipment: GL-13 blaster | Combat Knife | Multi-Tool | Inquisitorial Saber | Circlet of Projection
Tags: Kaila Irons | Quinn Varanin

Zero spun out beeps and bops at a mad pace almost the point Tamsin was having a hard time keeping up. The droid was clearly upset and frantic with concern over Kiala, the woman had just something rash and impulsive with out a real plan. The droid was in a real tizzy about the whole ordeal. "Slow down, I can't help if I don't know what's going on?" As she said, the motors of the droid slowed down and its holo projector fired up.

A message popped up a video of the princess's predicament played out in front of Tamsin. It was made clear the moment of seeing the video what Kaila had done. Tamsin didn't even really have to think about it her sister had jumped straight into the fire. Though Tamsin had only ever briefly seen and met the princess, she had seen how Kaila looked at the women. She had learned her sister's mannerism well at this point, and as the video played, she shook her head and sighed.

"Yeah, I know what you're going to say zero, that woman is going to be the death of us." Zero beeped in agreement with Tamsin but then went on about even though that was the case they needed to try to save her. "What do you even call a rescue mission inside a rescue mission?" The droid just stared up at Tamsin for a moment before replying with something that was clearly an obscenity.

"Clusterfuck, that will work." Tamsin replied it was such a fitting moniker for the life her and Kaila lived. Preservation of life at this point seemed to only be a suggestion rather than a matter of fact. "Well prepare the ship, then we are going to save two princess's today." Zero let out a strong bwooop at the command and zoomed off to get the ship ready.

Tamsin was about to head to the cockpit but when she took her first step her vision blurred for a second a sharp pain spike through the back of skull. It had been happening off and on for a while now, but Tamsin thought nothing of it at first, but it was becoming more frequent ever since Echnos. She knew what was doing it but this time it spoke to her in clear words. "I will not help you, on this world if your master chooses die in a foolish manner then I say let her die." The demon made its point clear to Tamsin adding a flood of visions of worlds dying and life being extinguished. Tamsin dropped to her knees as the visions flooded her mind. Her fists clinched as she tried to fight through them, the demon was trying to discourage her and the last image of the visions linger an image of Kaila's burned and contorted broken body on a pile of millions of other bodies.

Fighting against it she pushed herself back to her feet and began moving to the cockpit. "You aren't going to stop me, not now and not ever I will fight with my last breath for my sister…" She growled through gritted teeth at empty air in front of her, but she knew the demon heard it. Every muscle in her body felt like it was pushing through concrete as she moved the cockpit the demon trying to take hold but failing. "I will save her and the princess, you won't hold me back." Her focus on the cockpit of the ship her will strong as she fought through the attempted possession to halt her.

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: City, Breaching arena complex
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Quinn Varanin Gerwald Lechner Iuuna Talon Tamsin Graves Orion Pavond

Kailla's levitation saw her gracefully to the ground, silken cloak settling behind her like the black wings of a Valkyrie come to collect the legion's due. Jumptroopers touched down all around her, quickly marching to form a loose diamond which Anathemous intended to be the spearhead which would break through to the princess.

The chime of her commlink was all that could break her sharp focus on the structure ahead.

"This is Iuuna Talon, my Shadowbound are planet side, I'll follow shortly I wish to coordinate with any in search of my cousin."

One of the Talon's were already here? Excellent.

<"Anathemous to Talon; possible sighting on the princess, sending coordinates now.">

The lord of Echnos quickly sent the coordinates of both her position and what she believed to be Quinn's via her wrist-computer, only to suddenly stop in her tracks.

It was as if the entire city and all living things around her had suddenly vanished from the force. She abruptly turned towards her men, fearing the entire squadron had perished in an instant, yet all she saw were the black duraplast helmets of very alive, very confused troopers.

"My lord?"

"I feel..." Anathemous glanced at her surroundings, searching for even the faintest trace of the force.

"...free."

"And... alone."

Kaila hadn't always been aware of her connection to the insidious force which jealously controlled her destiny, but neither had she felt it's absence before. It was like going deaf in a warzone, suddenly so peaceful, but so terrifying.

But she was not deaf to her natural senses, as evidenced by the sudden ✱crack✱ of gunfire far too loud to have originated from the battle deeper in the city.

One of her troopers was felled in an instant, dropping to the ground just as a sharp pain coursed through Kaila's side, causing the sith to stumble. The sergeant was quick to pull her aside behind a pile of rubble leftover from previous battles, giving his lord a quick look over.

"Are you alright, my lord?"

Anathemous would grunt, feeling for the cracks in her armor. Thankfully it had been designed for just this scenario.

"I'm fine...!"

"Frakking slugthrowers."

"No kidding." The sergeant was quick to begin directing the men, meanwhile the commlink chimed once more.

And it continued to do so as the city was quickly overtaken by a great shadow the likes of which not even Anathemous had seen before. The Mors Mons, the great flag ship of the royal First Legion, had come to rain retribution upon Susevfi.

<<< “The Empress brought the landing castles. They will create an EMP on impact. If you are vulnerable, get out of range. I am sending you the coordinates now.” >>>

Kaila blinked, her skyward gaze torn back to the present reality on the ground.

<"Negative, we are pinned down on the arena approach and I am unable to move, the city has been deafened from the force, I repeat; we are pinned and dea-">

Static.

She felt the shockwave even before she heard it. Even before the streets were filled with the glass of a thousand windows breaking, even before soldiers lost their footing all around. One trooper tried to use his jetpack to gain the upper hand, but the damn thing didn't even carry him a meter up before sputtering.

And it didn't take long for the bullets to come flying again.

"Agh!" Anathemous growled, slamming her fist into the duracrete.


But then a momentary pause in the gunfire caused her to peek out, bearing witness to the frightened crowd that was fleeing the arena.

"There! we'll use the crowd for cover, move!"

And just like that, the squad began pushing into the crowd. They'd covered a surprising amount of ground amidst the commotion, most common folk hesitant to challenge the armed troopers who were quick to point blasters and demand passage. But as they drew deeper, the shoving became more common and the crowd more dense they approached the narrowest point of the funnel.

Eventually they could not physically pass.

One of her men fired a warning shot into the air, but the space cleared was minimal. Suddenly another shot rang out as one of her men was tackled to the ground, another blasting the brick wielding rebel without hesitation. The lines between collateral and combat were starting to become blurred, tension was high, and time was running out.

Kaila was in a panic, but Anathemous had to think fast.

With a sickening hiss and heralded by a baleful violet glow, her lightsaber was held aloft.

"Stand down. Or be cut down." she demanded.

Silence ensued for a time.



"I can't let you-"

The first fool to speak was beheaded on the spot, the crowd parting soon after.

He was given a cursory glance over the shoulder as the sith and her men passed by, and for a moment, Kaila could not rightly determine if he'd been armed or not.

Had she...?



"Contact!"

Blaster fire was exchanged as they reached the entrance, her men hiding behind supporting pillars. But the crowd behind them would finish dispersing soon enough, and their rearmost cover with them.

They were pinned again, with little cover, no communications, and a timer that was still running out.

​