Sea of Sulfur [TSE Dominion of Lola Sayu Hex]

[Dante Sotari]

​

Lola Sayu was not anyone's idea of a perfect picnic spot. The surface cracked and broken. The air thin for breathing and yet heavy with the throat coating scent of sulfur.

And yet it was not the first time the Sith had come here. Last time they had come as raiders- secret and silent, intent on offering certain criminal freedom in exchange for their particular expertise, exercised in Silver Jedi space. But now the Jedi were gone, and the prison on Lola Sayu was in even more dire straights than it had been when the Sith had come last.

After the Jedi abandoned their protectorate, the inmates of the prison had rioted. With no one to come and put down the uprising, they had quickly overwhelmed the guards and set themselves up with their own miniature kingdom. A kingdom of one tiny island in the middle of a sulfur sea. It was nothing, and they knew it.

But it was theirs.

With no way off of the planet, they did the best they could- it was a chaotic paradise where the strong ruled the weak, leadership only coming at the end of a fist. Two rival groups within the prison had risen, eyeing each other balefully and mustering improvised weapons, food stuffs and actively working to lure members to their own side. For the moment, the groups were even in power and capacity, neither able to overrun the other and claim control of the entire facility.

At least, until, one side managed to finally repair the comms that had been damaged in the initial uprising. And struck a bargain.

Objective 1: The Rippers
Enter the facility from the west. Meet with the leaders of the gang calling themselves 'Rippers,' the side that has contacted the Sith Order. Reach an agreement with them- amnesty for past crimes and the invitation to join the Empire as 'specialists' for future need, but a promise to follow the laws on pain of death. Or, for those unwilling to give up their lawless ways, a one way ticket into the territory of the Galactic Alliance and a small 'gift' of credits to help them get started in their new life.

Objective 2: The Black Flames
Enter the facility from the east. Take back that side of the prison by force if necessary, though accept surrender when offered. While no deal has been made with this gang, the same offer to those that stand down is on the table. Join us, or go on your way with our blessing into GA territory.

Objective 3: Point Tarron
There is no outpost at Point Tarron. This is the joke. Of course, the top brass has no sense of humor, so why *isn't* there an outpost there? Aid in building an outpost at Point Tarron- anyone with a company that can shoehorn their way into this objective is welcome to utilize this dominion as a Major Faction contract. Building, Security, setting up shipping/landing protocols, training comms/sensors personnel- get creative, get your MF contract.

Objective 4: BYOO
Go nuts.

 

[Alexandria Zambrano]

OBJECTIVE 2
Allies: TSE
Enemies: Prisoners

The shuttle descended from the heavens, corrupting the sulphuric atmosphere with Darkness and despair. Aboard said shuttle was a Sith Lady, her skin fair and her cascading locks golden. Her eyes burnt with the fury of the Sith, and she wore a dark dress which seemed to be dotted with starlight itself. A simple hood caused a shadow to cross her face, and said hood transformed into a sort of cloak which obscured her back from view. She had not come to this forsaken planet to bargain with the ones who called her, quite the contrary. Darth Victrix had come here to ruin the prisoners which had not requested her aid.

Slowly landing unto a pad, the shuttle whooshed and stabilised itself before the great doors slid open, allowing her to step out into the open. A small rebreather was fitted across her lips, allowing her to breath with ease in the abhorrent atmosphere. The Epicanthix was flanked on either side by a party of Sith troopers, who would step before her to break into the eastern side of the prison.

The operation reeked with arrogance; here walked Darth Victrix, into the midst of the enemy and what would she order her men to do? Knock on the enemy's door? The thought triggered a smile, and she quietly unclipped a blade from her hip, igniting it as the doors slid open.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective 2

"Can you believe the Master sent us to this chithole for our first united operation in, what? Three years?"

A disinterested grunt answered the silky, purring voice that had broken the windy silence with its complaint. The figure laying prone across the sulfurous rock didn't much care for his companion's whining, he instead deigned to focus all of his attention on the task at hand. That task involved monitoring the Citadel's east front through a pair of macrobinoculars firmly pressed against his unmasked face, revealing the faintest hint of his bright blue skin.

Unfortunately, the third of their magnificent trio decided to chime in.

"You're just mad that the Master wouldn't let you bring along your serfs. It must be murder going this long without a manicure and a massage, huh Maahir? You pampered house cat." The Zygerrian flattened his ears as he shot the woman next to him a venomous glance, only for it to be returned by a mighty rude hand gesture and mocking facial expression. "Ugh, how dare you! I'll have you know that I'm the oldest out of the three of us, and I'll demand that you treat my station with the proper respect, Saskia." The one known as Saska rolled her eyes, "The Master has only kept you around so long because he prefers a nice warm sleeve for his gigantic c-"

"Will you two shut your fething traps for one Force-damned second here? We're supposed to be professionals, not children!"

The silent third member, and the appointed leader of this excursion, snapped suddenly at the other two. Borja could only stomach their immaturity for so long before he felt the urge to murder the both of 'em, and damn the consequences he might face from his Master. Fortunately, his tone brokered no argument from Maahir and Saskia, though the occasional annoyed grumble was permissible so long as there wasn't another outrageous argument.

"Okay, coast looks clear. Let's head down."

This was going to be a long day.

 

[Roslyn Thorn]

Objective 1: Meet with the Sithies
Location: The Citadel | The Ripper's Base

When the SIth Empire had first infiltrated Lola Sayu, it had been the most excitement the prison had seen in years. Well, at least in the time Roslyn had been incarcerated there anyway. Murmurings of either dead or incapacitated guards, prisoners disappearing right from their cells.

She hadn't been able to participate, nor was she one of the number they had stealthily stole away for whatever purposes they had in mind. Instead, she had been locked away with a Force suppression collar around her neck, as were any deemed too dangerous.

Not that anyone knew it was the Sith at that point, only discovering it later on by those that sought to find out what had happened. Roslyn had been one of those people.

Their actions had opened a wound, one that festered and widened when the Silver Jedi abandoned their territory and moved elsewhere.

A vacuum of power opened up, and hell had broke loose on the Citadel. A little warzone between prisoners and guards, until the latter were either forced out or killed. But it became inevitable that sides were chosen, and two main gangs formed out of the smoldering remains.

The Rippers & The Black Flames.

Roslyn had sided with the Rippers, mainly because one of their leaders; Roth, had been the one who had removed her collar. And once she had a pair of makeshift knives in her hands, she demonstrated why exactly she was locked away.

She believed their little name had been in part because of her actions that day.

"How long we gunna hav' to wait?" Roth grumbled quietly, enough for Roslyn to hear at least.

"No idea, we got the word out and they responded. Just a matter of waiting for their arrival."

Roslyn was essentially his enforcer, and in part his advisor. Always remaining closeby. She'd never be in his seat however, not with the ever looming threat of being stabbed in the back. Instead she remained at his ear, whispering suggestions to bring before the other leaders. She had been the one to push the idea of contacting the Sith Empire.

It hadn't been too much for her to figure out they had been the ones who had been here before. Once Roslyn had a connection to the HoloNet, all she needed to do was look at the news. The fact Mirial had been invaded not long after was the biggest clue. But the greatest motivator was the reports that the Empire's territory was expanding their way anyway.

So why not make buddies with the folks that could help get them off the planet.

You'd be an idiot not to.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Objective 1: Discuss terms with the Rippers
Nearby: [member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Scipio Alta"] [member="Roslyn Thorn"] anyone else who wants to be here, hop in!

Normally, someone in politics would be making negotiations. Sure, they'd have support from guards or whatever, but they'd just be there, you know, just in case.

Dante figured that things got weird when negotiating with incarcerated murderers who had taken a prison by force. Wasn't really a place for diplomats. Sith? Could have. Absolutely could have. But instead they sent in the Legion. Or at least, a dozen of them. Armed and armored.

This wasn't really in her wheel house. Dante was a spec ops sniper. She wasn't a spy, someone who could swap around different faces, tones, knew when to press and when to let up. She just shot things. And yet, here they all were.

Hopefully one of the others would do most of the talking.

Besides, her head was killing her.

She stood beside Lt. Alta and Morgan, looking up at the citadel. They had approached from the west, as instructed. Their shuttle was guarded and rigged to blow, in case the whole thing was just a bluff and all they wanted was a free ride out of here. Stepping up to the door, Dante knocked three times with a heavy armored fist, waited, and then knocked twice more. The signal for just who, exactly, was out there.

 

[Connor Harrison]

This was it. The first step into the void, one that would either kill him or empower him.

This was not about the Silver Jedi. Not about the Heavenshields. Not about the First Order, or Ren or whomever else had plagued his past. This was about Connor Harrison and his new name; Craith. The first mission for the Sith Empire thankfully handed to him by [member="Taeli Raaf"] after his bloody – quite literally – initiation.

He had hooked up at the coordinates given to him by Taeli and boarded the shuttle for Lola Sayu, a place he knew very well from his years of service to the Jedi. Now, he stood at the back, holding onto the straps as he kept his balance and looked at the party with him due to touchdown anytime.

One seemed to lead the troopers - [member="Alexandria Zambrano"] – but looked like some fallen angel with her otherwise plain features and demure look but shrouded with darkness and power commending the troops.

As the landing lights came on, Connor reached and pulled up his breathing mask, a black and silver hexagon shape that covered his mouth and nose, strapped behind his head. Dark eyes and a cracked scar peered out over the mask as the doors parted.

The power of the sulfer washed over his pores for a few seconds, hitting him with rancid humidity. Glancing up at the prison, he took in the structure of ascending floors and, as far as they were aware, unmanned security turrets and various other installations that had been taken by force.

Now it was his turn to take back the wing and keep those within from thinking they had any right to stand against him and the Sith in their wake.

He walked out of the shuttle, his black cowl trailing behind, and glanced to the Sith Lady and nodded. He didn’t know her, but he was going to have to trust her. He then caught the eyes of the troopers and pointed to either side of the landing pad they had touched down on.

”Two of you stay here and secure this pad. Nobody comes back on here except us. If they do, shoot first and we will question them later.”

[member="Alexandria Zambrano"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"]

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Objective 2

Borja slid down the hill towards the Citadel's eastern gate, clouds of dust and debris kicked up as he rode down the slope. He replaced the macrobinoculars for his battle mask, which greatly resembled a segmented welding mask adorned with yellow paint. Their Master had solidified the belief of self-sufficiency in all of them, and their collective armor reflected that. Most of it was bits and pieces of other armor that had been collected and assembled together by their serfs and squires.

Both Borja and Maahir's armor resembled that of the ancient Sith, while Saskia continued to insist on her relatively light and revealing clothing for this operation. "I like the breeze, it gets so stuffy in that cruddy old armor you want me to wear. I'm surprised you didn't want to wear something similar, Maahir, I know how you like to show off."

Maahir bristled at the comment, but held his tongue as a pair of Black Flame thugs roamed by the outcropping they had hidden behind. Saskia peeked out as they passed, a devious grin curling across her face as she shot a glance back at her comrades. "Follow my lead, I have a plan." Without any explanation she scrambled over the top of the ridge, taking a moment to smooth out her robes and make sure her chest and hips were as pronounced as possible before calling out to the thugs.

"Oh yoo hoo, boys~ Want a piece of this?"

The two thugs whirled around, weapons raised, but they hesitated after catching an eye-full of the gorgeous babe with the dark eyeshadow and the ruby red lips. It wasn't often that they got to lay eyes on such a beauty, with the only things in reach inside the Citadel being women who were more butch than they were and other male thugs. They eagerly surged forward, their weapons lowered as they catcalled, detailing all sorts of things they'd do to her once they got their hands on her; to which Saskia only giggled and put on an even more provocative display.

It wasn't until they were within range that Borja and Maahir made their move, swooping in behind both of the thugs before skewering them through with their lightsabers. Saskia's expression changed from unabashedly lustful to mock shock, herself playing up the theatrics for her companions as the life drained out of the two thugs she had just solicited. Maahir yanked his weapon out of the thug's torso, letting his body crumble to the ground in a heap.

"You're gross." Saskia's only answer to that was a firm smack on her ample behind, to which Borja replied; "I hate this. I hate both of you." A heavy sigh, "Let's hide the bodies before some chucklekarks stumble onto them and sound the alarm."

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

Objective 2

Took them long enough, she thought. Her Master, to help the Sith operation for the planet famous for its prison, had dispatched Eldaah to infiltrate one of the gangs in the prison. Her task had been relatively simple, learn what she could, identify key players, then assist other Sith forces in bringing these criminals to heel. Retrieving her gear from a concealed spot, she had immediately killed one underboss when he had followed her to her stash. Needless to say, the Weequay had a splitting headache and wouldn't be able to ever try anything with a girl ever again.

Smiling at her semi-private joke, she donned her armor and moved out into the corridors. She could hear bickering. Turning the corner, she was met with one of the oddest sights she could remember seeing. Two dead guards, a Zygerrian, a Pantoran, and an Exargan. Judging by their lightsabers and armor, they had to be the Dark Lord's servants.

"Might as well leave them lie," she said, voice distorted by her mask. "Widen the wounds and it will look like a disruptor or heavy blaster burn. We have three main targets to kill to destabilize these Black Flames."

[member="Eye of Solomon"] [member="Connor Harrison"] [member="Alexandria Zambrano"]

 

[Darth Ansirrian]

Objective 4 - Eliminate local pirates

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jj-CYfaEmrM​

Darth Ansirrian had spent much time studying what history he and his followers had missed during their long sleep in carbonite, and had taken particular interest in this so called "Citadel". It's inmates would prove a valuable source of potential recruits for the Dark Lord, but certain obstacles that might threaten his plans and that of the Sith Empire had to be removed. He'd gathered a fleet of Harrower-class Dreadnaughts to deal with an asteroid defensive platform in orbit above the Citadel, currently occupied and used as a base by a particularly tenacious raiding fleet of pirates who'd hoped to recruit from the prison populace to expand their already formidable numbers.

Aboard his own Harrower, appropriately named "Desolation", Darth Ansirrian watched as the enemy fleet of assembled frigates and corvettes took up defensive positions around the asteroid, and gave his order in response. "Spare no one.", he said coldly before nodding his head. The attack commenced, as the Sith fleet began dispatching fighter and bomber squadrons and unleashing a volley of turbolaser fire at the enemy ships.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

OBJECTIVE: 4A
Target: Thym Tevilk

It was not her first time on Lola Sayu. Once upon a time, she had attempted to infiltrate it, only scratching the surface then, but gaining vital intelligence about its internal structure. Information now given to her assassins. But Darth Ophidia was not one to sit back and let her minions do all the work. She desired to be in the midst of fighting, to shed blood for the Sith cause.

And so, the Pale Assassin was on Lola Sayu, among the chosen few who would lead the pinpoint strike at The Black Flames.

On her, she had a direct line of communications to [member="Morgan Vance"] , so that their work could be used to sway the Rippers, one way or the other. They would shatter the Black Flames' infrastructure by cutting the head off the dragon, and in doing so, show the limitless reach of the Sith and their empire.

"Making our approach." She said over the comm to the negotiators.

With a gesture of her arm, she signalled for the assassins to begin, making no sound. She pulled up the hood of her cloak, burrowing her presence in layers of stealth, before climbing up over the black rocks and climbing over the rock face and down among the rocks leading to the Citadel's northern outer walls. Soundless, out of sight, practically invisible in the Force, she was like a ghost.

A malevolent ghost bent on the destruction and subjugation of her enemies.

Before soon, she was at the walls. Her burning eyes surveying the surroundings before looking up at the grate. She made herself ready to throw another assassin up to the grate, giving them the chance to open it and be the first one inside - and being the first to explore whatever traps had been set by the inmates, if any.

[member="Esther Nova"] @Kaalia Voldaren

 

[Onrai]

Objective 3: Get the base worked on

-

Personally, Vanessa thought that attempting to waste time with the former prisoners of the Jedi was meaningless. Why give belief to the illusion that they would turn out to be useful and loyal pawns? The Ablution​ was in drydock once more, having survived the skirmish that had developed around the freighter Gossamer​ at the costs of some systems blowing. That refit would be finished soon - along with more work that was being done to the rest of the Void Irregular Fleet in the wake of the last two battles it had fought at. For now she was here with a relatively small force - the XoXaan II-Class Star Destroyer Maleficent​. It was certainly a step down from the Ablution​, but it would serve its purpose.

Tryton-class cargo containers were being delivered to the surface of the of the planet, each as tremendous in size as a corvette. The base here would be a simple, crude construct - cheap to manufacture, with components that would be easy to replace. Four cargo containers were seated on the ground, atmospherically sealed as construction crews began to fit connecting walkway tubes between them. Once the basic structure system of the base was set up, interiors could be constructed and set up. There was one other thing needed, but that would be delivered in time.

 

[Kenth Typho]

Objective 1: Discuss terms with the Rippers
Nearby: [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Roslyn Thorn"] anyone else who wants to be here, hop in!
Distant Ally: [member="Darth Ophidia"].

This wasn't their job.

They held the line, infiltrated, executed orders, but diplomacy?

Not their job.

But the Sith Empire didn't care- they saw a problem, they measured tools and then picked out the one that was best-fitting for the exercise. You could queen, you could moan, you could whine, but at the end of the day it would remain the same thing. You did the job they told you to do. One big hierarchy and orders had to be followed: from the lowest ensign to the highest Lord of the Sith, they all followed the drumbeat of the Empire and the cogs kept on ticking.

It was efficient, it was clean and it was surprising how well it truly worked.

They waited in silence as the seconds ticked by, until the door whirred open and revealed grimy faces. The 'Rippers' took a step back, but Roth and his second-in-command were presumably build from sterner stuff and kept their vigil for now.

"Take it you are Roth." Morgan filled the awkward silence- his voice slightly magnified, distorted into metallic properties to take out the allure of a personal touch. They were the Sith Empire. Their reach was beyond dispute after the burning of Thyferra. What a mess that had been. "Dat's me." Thumb flicked behind him to indicate the white-haired lady. "Second-in-command, Thorn. Glad the Empire sees da value 'ere." The silence stretched out after that last comment.

"We will see." Morgan finally retorted. "Gonna let us in?"

Roth nodded twice, smile widening and showing sharp teeth. Rippers indeed.

 

[Zef Halo]

Objective I - Diplomacy?
[member="Morgan Vance"] | [member="Roslyn Thorn"] | [member="Dante Sotari"]

Diplomacy?

Huh?

Huh.

Lt. Scipio Alta of the Sith-Imperial Legion. Platoon leader in the recently popularized Stiletto Company of the famed 42nd Airborne Division. You'd expect him to be on some front lines being shot at and shooting back. Calling airstrikes, spearheading entrenched positions, flanking enemies.

The Oorn Tchiss native expected that. He thought he did a good job at it, too. Never thought he was the best cause he never saw it as a competition. Just a job he worked hard on, believed in and wanted to pay the serious debts his family had accumulated from Sith-Imperial banks to save their farmland. Yeah, they worked on the farmland but not all of it. Most of the land was actually not being used but held a sentimental value. It had been in the Alta family for generations. Generations of farm workers.

So you get the gist of it - he'd shoot for the Sith Empire and he'd probably farm for it but diplomacy?? With criminals??

The only diplomacy them criminals saw on good ol' 'rn Tchiss be the damn barre' end of a gun.

Looking around, Scipio figured that the rest did not feel at the right place either. Two of them he knew - callsign Strider and callsign Rook. He'd met them a few times, once during the NATIVE WARDEN 51 excercise on Mygeeto and a few more times in actual operations. Scipio wasn't sure if he knew their actual names and forgotten them or if he'd never known them at all. Didn't matter, though, did it.

The LT's own engagement here was unknown to him. He had heard rumors of specializing him into more...special forces type of operations but could all be faux.

Whatever. The door opened. Dialogue ensued and they all entered a moment later into the citadel. Scipio's eyes, per instinct, quickly began scanning it.

Tight quarter, low ceiling, unlit corners. More or less, whether deliberate or not, the place could sustain a force barging in. It had the perfect atmosphere and design for ambushes and subtle observation. Holes in some of the walls, whether deep or not, or how they had appeared there remained a mystery to the Lieutenant. If he could conclude anything for sure - the Rippers moved with an air of confidence.

That was either arrogance.

Or a dreadful sign of their fate here.

"Come on in." The everlasting smile of Roth turned to the group as they entered a turbolift. "We be goin' up."

The turbolift itself seemed to be not well maintained just like the corridor they had just walked from. Scipio wondered if this had been an unused entrance they had come in from. Could've been, right? Maybe they did not want the Sith to see the Rippers' actual strength.

Feigning weakness.

A classic in the art of war.

 

[Kieran Erith]

OBJECTIVE: 4A | Ethel Delarosa
ALLIES: [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

All things considered, Esther Nova wasn't known for subtlety. She made herself known, and that rather contradicted the point. But when it was lying beneath the radar that helped her, then lie beneath the radar she would. She believed in priorities.

The group of assassins she stood silently alongside were all strangers. Esther was paired with a Sith Lord she knew only as Avacyn, and curious as she was for now she didn't care to know more. This was a stealth mission- her first since initiation into the Sith Empire, not that it did anything to humble her. It wasn't her first time doing dirty work for a cause.

It was her first time tasked with murder. On another world in another life she'd kill and kill without shedding tears, but as a last resort alone. Lives served purposes. Deaths ought to as well.

And this one would. Ethel Delarosa--identified as potential leader of the Black Flames. When she fell, they crumbled. When the other two targets fell...the Black Flames collapsed.

With the gesture she moved over and into the citadel at once, rapid and soundless. She stayed close by Avacyn on the way up but not enough to hinder her climb, and only paused when she was at the walls. A moment to ensure she was still with her cloaked teammate and they were up to the grate- Esther opened it carefully as the two moved inside.

Right at the first intersection.

This would be fun.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

​

​

​

Shrouded in thin black cloth from head to toe, Orion crouched. The only thing that remained from his previous armaments was his chrome plated mask. He was prepared to face whatever lingered within the confines of the prison before him. Instead of jumping headlong into the fray like Krest would have, Orion remained patient. The crowds of goons that made up the Black Flames would soon know their time had come. The sith assassins were very particular at who and what needed to be taken care of. Like all the rest, only the deadliest made the list. Henchmen, guards, followers, even prisoners. None of them mattered to Orion. Only one man belonged to him. The Noghri he was after was one of three leaders. Each of the leader would be brought down. No matter the circumstances. ​

​

Orion remained crouched just overlooking the prison below. Entry points were already created, mainly thanks to the swift work of his other assassins. Slowly, Orion rose. The green irises zoning in on the entry point and leaped forward down the rocky hillside. As he landed he slid to the base of the already broken fence and ran to a stack of boxes. Careful not to be seen by any of the remaining guards. He reached for the box and climbed to the top of the stack and slipped into the air shaft. The overwhelming blast of air slammed him in the chest as he crossed over. Finally, he reached the intersection like the other assassins had discussed. Orion wiggled forward and stopped. He could feel a slight tickle in the force, something was different about it. His head turned to the left and meandered around the bend. He was on track. ​

​

"Oklarth, The Cyborg." Orion whispered, as he kept crawling through the vent. A light chuckle escaped his lips. As he continued to talk to himself. "How bad could it be?"​

​

The assassin knew that Oklarth was more than just a target. He was a leader of the Black Flame and highly dangerous. Despite such things, Orion survived against far worse. ​

​

Or at least he thought so...​

​

Distant Allies: [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] | [member="Esther Nova"]​

 

[Roslyn Thorn]

Objective 1: Meet with the Sithies
Location: The Citadel | The Ripper's Base

Roslyn's pale eyes were fixed to the trio the very moment they appeared in her view. Newcomers were not something she particularly liked, especially when they were unknown elements entering a territory she was familiar with. They had the potential to be agents of chaos, capable of disrupting the natural order of things.

Not that there really was one in a place like the Citadel.

She let Roth do the talking, preferring to stay just behind him with her arms crossed. Roslyn would've probably looked more intimidating if she was several inches taller.

The other Rippers stepped aside as the small group approached them. Were they doing it out of politeness? Maybe. Did they move out of the way because they were wary? Definitely.

When you thought of the Sith Empire, your immediately thoughts were likely of the Force Users, of the powerful Sith that no doubt filled their ranks. Roslyn wouldn't of been surprised if some of their gang expected the Dark Lord of the Sith himself to have walked in.

It made her more curious that neither of the three had any connection to the Force.

Roth led the group onto the turbolift. Roslyn remained close by, her attention fixed on the three without blinking. As they filed onto the lift; a small group of the Rippers joining them, Roslyn finally broke contact for a moment to glance over at Roth. She shook her head slightly, relaying the information about the newcomers Force sensitivity.

The leader wasn't a Force User, and he had made a point to not surrounding himself with them. Roslyn had never fallen upon the delusion that Roth had specifically picked her out as his second-in-command, it had merely been chance that it had happened. She was the first person he had crossed paths with that had one of the collars on - and he knew how to remove them.

Didn't mean Roslyn hadn't made sure things were in her favour, by ensuring she was the one he found first.

Even though he had no capability with the Force, Roth still looked imposing. Sure, age had already begun to settle in; indicated by the amount of grey in his beard, but he also showed off a great deal of muscle mass from his arms alone.

The turbolift suddenly halted with a rather rickety shake. Silence fell in that moment, tension building up as Roth pushed forwards and opened the doors. A short walk down a hallway and they were greeted by another set of doors. The man glanced at Roslyn, who simply nodded before he pushed them open.

It was an atrium, one of the few that existed in the Citadel. Previously used as both a cafeteria and recreation area, it was now the centre of the Ripper's base. The catwalks and higher levels were filled with more of their numbers, many of which were immediately looking down upon them - specifically at the new arrivals.

Roth didn't pause in his stride however, and he lead the group to the middle where the other two leaders were waiting. To their right was Warsk; a Quarren male who had a distinctive number of alien prisoners at his back. Inara; a female Nautolan was to the left. She looked like she had been through hell, repeatedly. A number of her tendrils were missing, numerous scars littered her face, and her right eye was a smoky white; blinded.

Both were quite a contrast to the more human appearance of Roth and Roslyn; albeit her pointed ears made her stick out that bit more.

"[So, these are the ones the Sith Empire sent?]" Warsk spoke first, igniting several hushed conversations amongst his posse.

"Tha' they are." Roth and Roslyn walked ahead from where Morgan, Dante and Scipio were directed to remain. There would be no chairs and tables to sit at, no one was to be comfortable in this situation.

"I expected something...more." Unlike Warsk, Inara didn't bother speaking in a different language. Instead she spoke Galactic Basic, unflinchingly as she stared at the trio. And no doubt she wasn't alone in that line of thought.

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"] | [member="Scipio Alta"]​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​It was an interesting sight.

​The three bickering acolytes of his nephew slowly but surely making their way towards the eastern gate of the Citadel. They were efficient to a degree but their awareness needed some work.vWhat the three missed was the Shadow Hand himself standing on a ridge a short distance away surrounded by the Nerean Crownguard his form clad in the unique set of black armor only one other individual held. "They're certainly devoted I'll give them that." he said to no one in particular as he observed them working to dispose of the bodies below. When it came to Borja, Mahir, and Saskia the Dark Titan had known each of them and spoke to them many times before.

All of them had served House Zambrano and been brought under the wing of his nephew years ago. When it was necessary he imparted some knowledge on them occasionally never too much at once and always tailored specifically around that individual and their skills. It wasn't his job nor did he feel the desire to teach them directly but he would certainly provide guidance and wisdom. "Always be aware of your surroundings knights or it will prove fatal." ​Prazutis said his voice suddenly surging over the comlink channel of the trio. They'd see him now moving down towards them the over eight foot giant and his group of guardsman as they closed the distance. "Let us proceed towards the gates and handle this problem" ​He made his way towards the gates then.

Post: 1

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Objective: 4A - Ethel Delarosa
Allies: [member="Esther Nova"]

As a Valkyrie, Darth Avacyn was a leader. She stood at the helm and issued the commands, orders that were not questioned. Her time as a follower had long ended, her place as Valkyrie Elder unchallenged. On this day however, the Sith Lady was not here to lead. Instead she was something of a guest in the group of Sith Assassins, even if it had not been the first time she joined them. After she had been individually tested by three of the Four Horsemen many years ago when she was still a Knight, an alliance had been forged. Whenever she was requested to assist in an operation she would lend her strength, and that was what brought her here now.

At Darth Ophidia's signal Avacyn shot into action alongside the other assassins that had gathered, collectively beginning their climb towards the walls of the Citadel. Not a word was spoken as the redhead moved, embracing the silence that was required to fulfil their objective. They would look to bring down the Black Flames by striking at the heart- the leadership of the group. If they fell there was no doubt they would collapse, removing the threat they posed to the Sith. Of the three potential leaders the woman would see to the elimination of the one known as Ethel Delarosa, but she would not do it alone.

It did not take long for Avacyn to make her way into the Citadel, her gaze shifting to the one she was paired with. She was an acolyte by the name of Esther Nova, and although she did not know her that was of no concern. Had she not been competent enough she would not have been here in the first place, and she trusted the judgment of the Assassins. With a quick nod her head turned towards the intersection and already a number of people had split of into the various paths, with Avacyn and Esther quickly following suit. The two turned right, the path towards their target now right in front of them.

The hunt had begun.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

OBJECTIVE: 4A
Target: Thym Tevilk
Distant allies: [member="Esther Nova"] [member="Kaalia Pavanos"] [member="Orion Darkstar"]

After the first assassin -a young acolyte called Esther- had gone through, the group followed quickly, crawling through this minute gap in an otherwise impenetrable defence with the utmost quiet. Darth Ophidia was the last to crawl through, having made sure that they were not watched nor followed. As they came to the cross road inside, the group split.

She saw Esther and Avacyn taking the road to the right, to face off against Ethel Delarosa. Mandalorians were tough, and if Ethel was free, she would have made a fierce warrior even among her kin. Alas, she had chosen a different path, but her skills were no less for it.

Orion slipping off to the left, to Oklarth. Noghri were dangerous enough to begin with: Strong, fierce, and with an impressive sense of smell that put most assassins at a disadvantage. Oklarth's cybernetics only made him more dangerous.

Ophidia herself set eyes on the middle path, one any force user should fear: Thym Tevilk once fought for the Legion Yun'do under the One Sith. He was dead in the Force, a fierce leader, and not the only Yuuzhan Vong in captivity here. What made it worse; rumour had it, the wardens had not the foresight to pry him from his Vonduun. The Pale went up against an opponent with considerable body armour.

Before setting down the middle path, she gathered to her all the strength she could and let the cloak of shadows envelop her in a shroud; practical invisibility. She set down the path on light feet, keeping her senses sharp and hands close to her weapons. She had no idea what was waiting ahead.

 

[Onrai]

Objective 3

The connectors between the cargo containers were fitted as they began to be pressurized. Filtration units were taking in outside air, cleansing it of the excess sulfur, which was crystallized, ultrasonically pulverized, and dumped back into the nearest pit. Vanessa would soon be able to take off her breath mask and ignore the lingering stench of rotting eggs. FXR Multipurpose Droids began to carry in prefabricated panels which were arranged across sections of the containers, forming floors and walls. Self-contained consoles that wirelessly connected to one another would allow for ease of connection between the floors and the containers.

The square footage inside was going to be immense. The entire base crew would be able to live there, grow food, distill water, and effectively remain self-sustaining for the foreseeable future.