Sea of Sulfur [TSE Dominion of Lola Sayu Hex]

[Roslyn Thorn]

Objective 1: Negotiate
Location: The Citadel | The Ripper's Base

Both Roslyn and Roth glanced towards Thengil, only for a moment until their eyes were on the Sith Empire's envoys. The Cathar was just another unknown element, one that didn't help the tension that was high in the air.

Eyes turned to Morgan as he spoke, almost every single pair was watching the man as he spoke - well mostly those that were on the ground floor anyway.

"[What assurances are there that we won't get thrown in jail again after leaving? We aren't about to fall under another's banner to just be further discriminated against.]" Warsk's words were buffered by agreements from his fellows behind him.

"Mind your pride, Warsk. I'd imagine just gettin' off dis rock is worth more than that." Roth glared over towards the Quarren.

"[Easy for you to say, human.]"

"Not all of us are in here because of our lifestyle, a good number were mistakenly locked up - for no good reason." Inara chimed in, breaking the tension between the two leaders. Many around them murmured and grunted in agreement.

But of course that was all a matter of perspective. Those inside a prison would consider themselves innocent, that they had done no wrong doing. Roslyn knew that well enough herself, she had mainly been thrown in the Citadel because she had effectively screwed up the local authority's plans. They needed the scapegoat, and she had been the perfect choice.

That, and well...she did murder twelve people because of the paranoia they had manipulated.

Attention shifted towards Dante as she spoke, her helmet hiding away any semblance of emotion that could be discerned from her expression. Even the woman's voice was clear and cut, not leaving any room for interpretation. Her words elicited a similar reaction to Morgan's statement, although there were a lot more thoughtful noises. There were no doubt many within the Rippers that simply wanted a fresh start, and following the Sith Empire provided them an immediate measure of security both personally and economically.

Roslyn was not one of those people however, living the life of a civilian would've been too boring. And she knew, that with her skills there was no way the Empire would simply let her be. They'd pull her into their Sith ranks, indoctrinated with their Code.

Her mind twitched.

Too many questions and queries, not enough answers. Roslyn had to rein it in before her paranoid let loose.

Scipio's words were the final nail for a great number of the Rippers' present. That reminder over the fact the Sith Empire could easily blast them out of existence - all it would take is a few ships hovering in space to fire down upon them. There was never any belief that the prisoners had a good hand in this.

"I'd like sum details, credits are one thing. But we'd need more if folks are gunna head to the Core." Roth was always someone who preferred being thorough, having all the information laid out before making a decision. "We're talkin' transport, accomodation...'cause unless that nest egg or bonus is substantial, those that take the offer will be living on the street."

It was one of the few times Roslyn disagreed with the man. She highly doubted the Empire would bother trying to situate anyone that didn't take the offer to join them. If anything, Roslyn assumed they'd just ensure they were shipped towards the Core and leave it at that.

As the discussions continued however, Roslyn felt her senses flare up. She felt a disturbance in the Force, the sense of anticipation gradually increasing. Something was happening, or was about to. She looked around, eyes flickering up towards the higher levels. The Rippers only had so many numbers, and while a bulk of their forces were up on the catwalks above, the very highest points were lightly patrolled.

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

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

A conundrum.

She stood before a door, yonder which was her prey. However, if she should simply open it, her prey would see her coming. An argument could be made that the two guardians she had just slain could have been put to more efficient use. One who argued such did not know the Yuuzhan Vong, nor the face of a despotic criminal syndicate. They would not have let her through willingly, and she had no way of influencing them beyond the threat of violence. The Vong did not fear violence.

Though, while the more-part of the guard so far had been children of the Vong, she knew there would be others. Others who were not so resilient in the Force, but stood all the closer to Thym Tevilk.

As she stood leaned against the wall, hands holding the deactivated hilts of her sabres, Darth Ophidia closed her eyes and plunged her consciousness deep into the Force. Breath escaped her lungs and trickled out between her lips as her mind tore through stone and steel. She could see the room on the other side of the door. It was wide, circular, two more exits on either side: Blocked, guarded. In the far end was a dais, on which was a chair, in which sat a hole in the Force - A non-presence. Two, three, four more non-presences. Four, five, seven presences in the Force. One of whom had the Force in their grasp.

There was emotion in the room, high strung anger and resentment. She could feel it, she could touch it. Her phantasmal fingres intertwined with the strings of anger in one of the lesser presences. She made it turn and pace. Suspicion rose, then fell again as she made him pace back and forth, then he went for the door. As he opened it and looked aghast at the two dead guards, Ophidia slipped through like a shadow.

"Death! Treas-"

She forced the door to shut on top of him, skull crunching under the force of the metal slab. The other stood in sudden surprise, hands gripping weapons. Thym stood too, fists clenched inside his Vonduun. Yet his eyes went elsewhere.

 

[Kenth Typho]

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Roslyn Thorn"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]

"...-ompensation for transport would be arranged, as long as the destination is acceptable to the Empire." This meant places where the Alliance, the Silver Jedi Order, nations like that were at their weakest. Places where a sudden push could mean a complete collapse or where it would suddenly invoke costs that had been unforeseen by the forces of the Light.

It was elegant in its own way.

---​

In the meantime an assassin was settling itself down high up amidst the chains and rusty iron. A clawdite of the Black Flames, sneaking its way into the negotiations to try and disrupt it.

Its approach had been calm, meticulous and none of the Rippers had detected it. Well, until Thorn had felt its intent, but by then it was already too late. Xe had already lined up xer shot. Verpine shatterrifle salvaged from a guard, reticle centered on the first Sith representative. The one who was talking the most. This one hated talkers and it made it only more pleasant to squeeze the trigger.

The shot rang through the room.

Chaos erupted.

About ready to leave xe suddenly realized something- the manling wasn't down... feth, shield.

---​

Morgan did not seem all that fussed as the slug dashed against his personal shield.

When everyone around them panicked, Morgan (and presumably the others) remained calm. They had talked about this after all. A sigh and the soldier used his subdermal voice communicator to relay the message.

"Execute."

Out of nowhere a dozen more Sith troopers emerged, positioned strategically to take out the Rippers that formed their little kill-box.

Rifles at ready and cutting order into chaos.

"The Empire is always prepared, friends." Vance finally said to Roth, his voice magnified by the external audio-systems of his armor. "I hope it wasn't one of yours."

---​

Xe was running.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

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Post # 2​

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The rattle from the fluent air that coursed through the vents held specks of dust in the current. Such things caused discomfort for Orion, as the tiny specks of clopped up dirt and grime smacked him in the face. His eyes were his only guidance in the thick confined spaces of the interlocking metallic shafts. As another speck hit him in the eye, he turned on his side to reach it. In doing so, Orion felt his shoulder dip lower the vents cutting off his pathway. He slipped lower and like a torrent of death, fell violently towards an exit. His eye was clear of dust, the fall eradicating it as he made contact with the closed hatchway. Orion's back slammed into it, the loud bang sent the screws wide and he slipped out into a dark room of the prison. ​

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Catching the ground with a thud, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder blade. The rough edges of his belt scratching him as he rolled over and lifted. Finally, after the unsuccessful breach, he stood. The loud entrance probably forcing the forces of the Black Flame to converge on his location, but as he surveyed the area he grinned. The dark, wide room held long tables and interconnected chairs for its hosts. The metal bars that stretched across the counter like presentation in the lightly, lit back end of the room showed a kitchen. The odd smell of bleach and soured food, disgusted his senses. Luckily, the cafeteria was empty, better than that the smell would help him. It would prevent the Noghri from catching his scent too quickly. ​

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As silent as possible he ran to the doorway that led out into a long, slender corridor. The musky, wet aroma that slammed into him caused even more discomfort than the vents above. Shaking his head, he peeked out, blinking lights from neglect flickered along the darkened hall. Looking both ways, Orion found both ways to be clear. Picturing the blueprints in him mind he stepped out into the hall and turned right. Careful not to make too much noise through the watered down floor, he caught one simple puddle at the end of the opening. The only way to go was right, at least initially, until, Orion examined a large hole in the wall. Bricks and stone were left over from whatever caused its destruction. ​

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What the hell?​

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Orion peered into the darkness that encompassed the hole and stepped into it. He gripped onto the force, helping him through the curious tunnel. With his eyes starting to adjust he placed his hands along the wall, its earthly feel telling him he was descending. Am I below the prison? He asked in thought. Then, a sudden open gap of complete darkness enshrouded him. The force cutting him off as it dampened. A high pitched whistle zoomed passed by, clearly missing him as it fell dead in the background. It was a trap. Another high pitched tone slipped out from the inner distance, but nothing. Orion's heart paced faster, blind to the attacks that were slowly coming in succession. He sought out for the force, but the link seemed useless. Another shrill reached the unknown room, Orion reacted the only way he knew how. ​

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Like an eruption, a scarlet blade pierced through the everlasting darkness. The red hue lit the cavern, its floor of dirt and stone. Extending the length of his blade he looked for the attacker, but nothing showed. Turning around, he did the same, he swiped the blade outward. His eyes caught a tiny wire, blocking him from proceeding backwards. Following it, he stopped, another wire crossing over the other one. poodoo. Orion could feel the sinking feeling in his stomach, the puzzle in front of him teasing whether he lived or died. He stepped back, and went to strike the wire with his saber. The immediate resistance to his blade became apparent as an electrical discharge sparked outward. It seemed he would have to figure it out a different way to get further to his target.​

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Orion stood frozen, his mind trying to calculate its way out of it. Instead, his time was up. A torrent of shrieking metal darts filled the room. Expertly he batted down the ones that would be fatal, in doing so he was clipped by two of the darts, slashing at his skin. Thankfully, the metal edges didn't find their way through his skin. If they had, the wires attached to the back ends of the darts would have caused paralysis. Orion took note of the electrical properties when he tried to strike the first wire down. Using his lightsaber to guide him, he sighed, the cavern now filled with hundreds of criss crossing wires, ready to kill. ​

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

 

[Dante Sotari]

[member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Scipio Alta"] [member="Roslyn Thorn"] [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]

Chaos erupted.

This was the story of their lives, to be fair.

It was a good thing that Vance and Alta had been equipped with personal shields. It had been imperative to have faces for the Rippers to talk to, but there was no need to take a risk like that. Contingencies made, and the troopers, both those that had been known of and those who had not falling easily into formation.

Dante only had one thing on her mind. While the others secured their perimeter, she lined up the shot.

It didn't matter of the shooter who had started it was one of the Rippers or one of the Black Flames. Dante didn't care. One shot had opened up a powder keg where half the rippers were now opening fire on everyone and everything. The small arms fire was basically useless against the armor the troopers wore, the shields Vance and Alta had, but it wasn't the point. There were protocols in place.

This one was known simply as the Gravlex Med Protocol. If someone attacked an official envoy of the Empire, the response was execution. There was no trial. There was no appeal.

As a small clutch of Rippers ducked in with the Sith Legionnaires, their hands empty, and taking the protection offered, Dante exhaled and pulled the trigger.

The fleeing figure dropped, toppling over the far side of the catwalk- Dante had only seen xer feet and calves from this angle, but it had been enough to gauge for the sniper. The shot went straight through xer throat (she had judged the height ever so slightly off), catching xer just beneath the jaw. The force of the shot sent them over the railing. Xe could have survived the shot itself.

But not the way they landed head first on the concrete floor.

"Let's go," she subvocalized over the comms. "We have their answer, the people interested have stepped over that line. Time to clean up."

 

[Onrai]

“I see.” She said, pondering for a moment. “I suppose I should admit that I find your desire to best support the men under your command a noble thing to do. Support is a top-down thing, and morale does not exactly get bolstered with leaders who are actively depressing and otherwise cruel.” She responded. “That said, what is it that you wished to talk to me privately about?”

She was certainly intrigued.

[member="Drew Benneck"]

 

[Drew Benneck]

Post #4
Objective: 3-4

"I only wished to further discuss the nature of this installation. A more universal understanding of the purpose behind the facilities will better my ability to defend it-"

In the midst of the of their meeting the nearby Comm Desk came alive with activity. Suddenly a hundred different voices echoed throughout the floor and mixed together to create the symphony of battle. A large smile stretched across the old man's face as he remembered the thrill of combat. A moment later Captain Charlie ran up to stand at attention before General Mech.

"Negotiations have ended Sir... 1st wave is ready for deployment...." The Captain said between gasping breaths

"Catch your breath Captain, then give them the green light. Priority target is the prison's command center. I want those systems online before the next wave is sent. No quarter is given until that CC is under our control." Drew replied before giving his attention back to [member="Vanessa Vantai"]. "I do have one more request, my Lord. I'd like to use this floor as a temporary base of operations. Only until my assignment has concluded."

 

[Onrai]

“I can allow that.” She said to the General in question. “Given the fact that you are here to provide security gift this place, I would find such an arrangement to be... most suitable.” Her response was as simple as she felt she could make it. It was strange that no one else aside from an officer in the Sith army had come to check out what had been going on here at this base. Perhaps they simply had no interest.

A pity. There was a lot to gain from this world.

[member="Drew Benneck"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

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

Now it was a matter of speed.

She needed to capitalise on the moment of chaos before they could ready themselves. Even if she did? It would be one hell of a fight getting out of there. She saw the Force User, whose name she had not been graced with, speeding towards Thym, one of the Yuuzhan Vong on Thym's left eyed him, the Forcer, suspiciously and lowered a pike protectively. The three other Vong moved towards the door, forming the foremost perimeter. A rodian male and a twi'lek female pulled back towards the walls while the four other: Two humans, a Duro, and a Shistavanen, ran to the door after the Vong. All of the picking up blasters and knives.

Darth Ophidia danced between them with speed, with a deft turn of her wrist, she switched the lightsabre hilt with the dagger hidden in her sleeve. The Forcer jumped up towards Thym, seemingly trying to shield the chieftain with his own body, but he did not see death coming. For while he moved, before his feet could establish a firm centre of gravity, the Pale Assassin put her dagger in his hand and guided it. Thym looked straight into his advisor's face, sure of his loyalty, and did not see the knife as it was brought up, around, and into the armpit. It sank to the hilt, piercing through rib and lung.

It was not enough to kill him, she knew, but she had her scapegoat.

The Vong guardian who stood by his chieftain turned swiftly in response to his master's call, and immediately thrust the long, jagged spear into the Forcer's back. Ophidia barely managed to step aside, feeling the point brush her robes just barely. The Forcer screamed in pain as the point ran him through and wrested him to the ground, Thym Tevilk stared down at his advisor, hand cupping his armpit, breath growing short.

"You, traitor, why?" Thym asked "Have I not kept you as my own?". The Forcer only gargled in response as blood began to funnel up through his innards. The Vong guardsman looked up at his chieftain, the others turned to look too. Ophidia turned her wrist, the tsaisibola saw the gap in the neck of Thym's armour and launched itself in a quick strike.

The Vong Chieftain jerked suddenly as the tsaisi's venom coursed though his veins. He took two steps forward on his dais.

"Traitors, kill the tra ih tos"

"Master!"

The Vong looked at each other, the Duro, the Shistavaanen, the Humans and Twi'lek looked at each other. There was a moment of silence and then "KJADAARK" KILL. Pandemonium broke loose. Friend turned on friend, blasterfire and polearms spilled blood. Even the Vong started fighting amongst themselves.

Ophidia smiled as the chaos broke out before her. Each life spilled was like a prayer in her name.

She whispered to [member="Morgan Vance"] through their com connection "Fire is lit, the Vong is down."

 

[Drew Benneck]

Post #5

After the agreement of the Sith Lord, Captain Charlie immediately took over the Comm Desk. The veteran soldier tuned the frequencies from incomprehensible chatter into clear dialogues from his own men of the Iron Legion and a few key players in the vicinity. Drew Benneck enjoyed hearing the cold disciplined voices he recognized from the Iron Legion.

"Clear path through western entry point." -Lt. Bishop

"That's confirmed. Two known Black Flame leaders KIA" -Pvt. Knight

"Would you like a side of auto defence system with your command room" -Sargent Pat

General Mech knew that insubordination anywhere, he immediately spoke up to express his displeasure at the deviation from procedure. "Pat! You and your Platoon were told not leave the karking reserve force. Explain yourself or the only thing you'll see is the inside of a droid repair shop on Mygeeto."

Drew already knew what would happen the moment he grounded that unit. Sargent Pat and the very technically talented Blitzkrieg Platoon had taken it as a personal challenge to bring the Prison's systems back under their own thumb. Sneaking through the prison behind the various Sith Assassins to arrive at the command center before the rest of the Legion. Drew couldn't blame the boys for having high goals.

"Security measures are in place Mech, just hold your wrenches. Cellblocks 013-214 are cleared and fully operational. Uploading detailed schematics to the open network as well as marked trap locations. Ready to execute 2nd phase," Pat hastily explained over what sounded like numberous mechanics' drills.

Drew paused for a moment dismissing all humor from the situation, then replied in a voice of deadly seriousness, "Earn your Iron lads. I hope to see you at the Gates."

 

[Zef Halo]

Obj. 1

[member="Roslyn Thorn"] | [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"] | [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]

Scipio just stood there amidst the chaos. Probably not the best idea and thank the fethin' Force they'd come with heavy personal shields. Shots rang all around him, those that hit him were disintegrated by the shield. Nonetheless, it was rather comical that the Oorn Tchiss native stood there as a mass shootout started out of seemingly nowhere.

Yet, the Sith Empire had contigencies the criminals could only dream of thinking about. Previously invisible troopers reappeared and cut down foes with brutal efficiency.

The lieutenant didn't know why he remained frozen in one place. Perhaps he didn't have implants to react this fast. Did Strider and Rook have? He'd heard all the legends and myths 'round Sith-Imperial agents. More machine than men.

In another situation he'd probably be dead.

Not today.

Alta didn't remember whether Rook pulled him away or whether he'd instinctively jumped behind cover landing face close to her back side. The crack of the landing had him feel dizzy, an armor butt spinning around his vision.

Huh?

He somehow shook his head to stabilize his sight and looked up. The helmeted Rook was saying something. He only heard the important part - clean up. Alta reached for his boot where a hold out blaster was.

Or should have been. The lieutenant found his hand empty. Fantastic.

"Now, you better tell me we ain't gettin' fried from orbit before we leave this damn place." He said to both agents. "I swore I'd see my damn farm one more time before I get me my ticket to the other side."

"Y'all got any loose weapons on ya?" Scipio asked gesturing with his hands the fact that he had none.

 

[Roslyn Thorn]

Objective 1: Survive
Location: The Citadel | The Ripper's Base

One shot, that was all it took.

It hadn't even needed to have hit its mark, the powder keg still ignited all the same.

There was no surprise that the 'unity' amongst the Ripper wasn't ever really solid, it was comprised of prisoners after all. Initially banded together after the Black Flames were created, forming a rather rocky group that couldn't even agree on a single leader. Roth had been the levelheaded one, taking charge immediately, but then Warsk had an issue with a human in that position.

And folks were just generally intimidated by Inara to refuse her demands. Roth was more than willing too, but the numbers were against him.

Now it was all colliding. The moment the shot was fired, roars and yells of surprise filled the air. Rippers; at least those that had ranged weapons, began to fire down upon the Sith envoys, only to be surprised by the sudden appearance of more Legionnaires appeared out of nowhere. But it sowed more chaos, and Rippers began to attack their fellows.

In that moment, Roslyn didn't care about anything but her own safety. She looked to Roth who ushered her forwards, towards where Dante, Morgan and Scipio were. They had to move quick before they were just immediately gunned down - it was immediately clear that the Sith Empire weren't going to discriminate in who they killed.

"Tha' wasn't one of ours, but I'd 'azard a guess it was the Black Flames." Both of them were unarmed as they neared the trio. "We ain't part of this anymore. We'll take the deal." He glanced to Roslyn, looking for confirmation.

She nodded.

"We can use the way we arrived to get out of here. It'll be lightly defended." Especially if the troops Dante had ordered to stay behind had taken out the Rippers stationed there.

By the time there was an opening, a few more had joined Roslyn and Roth in wanting out of the current situation. They made their way out of the atrium and onto the turbolift. There was still lingering tension in the air, even after they had made it to relative safety from the chaotic mess left behind.

Roth had voiced his desire to join the Sith Empire, but Roslyn had declined. She wasn't a soldier like him, and wasn't particularly keen on experiencing what exactly the Sith considered Force training. Although she didn't voice that fact. Instead she opted for the alternate choice, to take the offered ship that would send her towards the Core.

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Thengil Ri'Shajirr"]​

 

[Dante Sotari]

Behind the mask, Dante smiled. Of course, Lt. Alta couldn't see it, but the amusement came through in the slightly distorted voice.

"Not today, Lieutenant. Not today."

It wasn't actually Gravlex Med, after all.

She shouldered her rifle and unholstered her service sidearm and offering it to him. Better than a hold out blaster.

"I'll get a write up if I lose that, so I'd appreciate you taking care of it for me," she said with a slight chuckle before her attention went back to the chit show that had blossomed around them. It was time to go. Time to tag out.

The soldiers closed ranks around Scipio, Morgan and the people who had sought shelter with them. Morgan sent a ping that confirmed [member="Darth Ophidia"]'s teams had completed their tasks. And a moment later a ping of [member="Drew Benneck"]'s troops entering the facilities.

Getting out was easy. They had left their trail of Legionnaire breadcrumbs, keeping that avenue open.

They reached the outside without further incident, though Dante would never call it 'fresh air.' Not on Lola Sayu. This was her second time here, and, honestly? She'd be just as happy if it was the last.

As the group headed back to their ship, the confirmation of sectors cleared rang through on the internal comms. By the time it was over, the inside of the prison would be washed with red. But they were criminals. If she were being honest, Dante kind of considered the entire farce to be a waste of time and resources. But when the peacock said bark, you said 'what breed Lord?' and that was that.

Once they were back on the ship, someone else sorting out which of those they'd brought with them would be returning to Imperial space with them (Roth and a handful of others) and who would be happier transported with a nest egg into Alliance or Silver territory (Roslyn and one or two others), Dante pushed back the front of her mask, finally, FINALLY, scratching an itch on the side of her nose.

"Alright, that's as good as it gets," she said with a sigh, to no one in particular. "Let's head home."

No one on their side had died. That had to count for something, right?

Nonetheless, Dante frowned.

She needed a drink.

[member="Roslyn Thorn"] [member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Scipio Alta"]