Dominion Sunsworn Pact | Dominion of Thyrsus | NIO

[Gallius Orcana]

FEAST OF BLADES

Equipment : Kyuzo petar

The clamor of the first fights had resonated in the arena, bringing excitation to its peak. Now, the bloody duels were engaged, each champion battling with his opponent. At first, Gallius had been dispatched on Thyrsus to make sure the orbit was clear and the imperial force could navigate properly. But he had been bored quickly, and decided to explore the capital, joining the diplomatic session. Soon though, the discussions had moved on subjects he did not master. So he decided to participate to the Feast of Blades, the mighty duel tournament.

He had not used his petar since the duel on Oben, but he felt confident in his chances to put a good show, and maybe win one or two duels. Of course he would lose to one of the Knights, but still, if he could have some fun, then it was it. He prepared, took his uniform off, only wearing a light gray armorweave tunic that would deflect the energised blades but grant him speed and agility, the two things he focused his fighting style on.

He entered the arena as the cheers rose. Walking straight towards his opponent, he adopted a duel stance, defying him into a first-blood fight. The opponent was a Thyrsian equipped with a traditionnal armor and a pike. It would be a tough fight, but Gallius was already thinking of how to defeat him. When the fight started, he slowly turned around his opponent, ready to strike. He held his petar near his waist, ready to intercept. When the first blow came, Gallius was surprised by the speed of the attack. He intuitively made a step aside while lightly parrying, then rolled over and tried to stab his opponent in the back.

The Thyrsian parried, however, and then counter-attacked, his pike thrusting towards the neck of Gallius. He could not parry that one, and instead dropped to his feet, before jumping up again and crashing into his chest. He accompanied the motion with a thrust of his petar, only to scratch the armor before being trapped between the Thyrsian itself and his pike, which he had brought back, crushing Gallius against his torso.

The Captain managed to free his armed hand, and repeatedly hit the side of the armor, piercing it in few strikes before seeing a blood drop roll from the breastplate and crash onto the sand of the arena. Immediately, the Thyrsian released Gallius, bowing to him and saluting the crowd watching. The fight was over, and Gallius had won the first run.

It took him a moment before he felt better, his ribs still suffering from the tremendous pressure his first opponent had applied. He could not rest any longer, as his next opponent was there. This time, it was a civilian, eager to prove himself in combat. He carried a vibroblade, a weapon suited for rookies and not particularly talented duellists. Gallius thought that would be an easy fight, so he put his petar low, and instead grabbed the replica of that vibroblade. It would be a fair fight with a young person who did not know how tough these fights were.

When the duel started, the rookie rushed, and Gallius parried, two, five strikes, before trying to counterattack. His opponent was talented, he realised, and was pressing on his attack : Gallius had no space to strike. He was forced on the defensive, taking half a step back. This could not happen ! Gallius was infuriated to see a civilian dominate him in swordplay. It was time to go low, and show him the reality of a fight.

When his opponent striked once more, Gallius left an opening that allowed the rookie to end the duel once and for all. Of course it was planned, and when he attacked, Gallius crashed into him, his fist thrusting his face several times. Then, it was easy play : while his opponent was stepping back, confused, Gallius disarmed him, and tore his shirt apart, before drawing a cross in the middle of his chest, the blood dripping and smearing his torso.

That fight was over.

As his previous opponent was stepping aside, an Imperial challenged Gallius. It would be Army against Navy, the traditionnal rivalry. For that kind of fight, traditions were to be respected. The two officers took their shirts off, keeping only their fencing breeches and their shoes. A third officer was going to be the referee, and presented them two simple blades, suited for honour duels. Around them, the fights were slowly stopping to watch the duel, and the two rival officers prepared themselves to fight.

On the referee's signal, the two officers started slow circles around each other, trying to understand the flaws of their opponent. Gallius striked first, having perceived a weakness in the defence of the Army officer. He was repulsed after a clean parry, however, and was forced to parry high attacks the officer concanetated. Gallius was soon again on the attack, and thrusted left and right, feinting before launching his true attack. However his opponent parried quickly, and endured as Gallius pressed on harder.

The duel lasted several minutes, where the two officers exchanged blows and feints, before they finally came back to their original stance, circling around each other, exhausted by the show they had given. Gallius wanted to win, and so wanted his opponent. The fight was to continue until one of the two made a mistake.

Again, Gallius striked first, feinting high before inverting his grip on the blade and whipping the air in front of his opponent's face. Blood gushed forth, and the two duellists stopped to fight. Across the face of the Army officer, a small and red line was slowly sprawling over his chin.

As all the nearby Imperial applaused, Gallius felt pride.

Now, anyone could come and duel him, he had won enough today.

​

OOCly : OPEN to opponents

 

[Hans Rennagen]

The Feast of Blades
Sword, Shield, Outfit
Opponent: FN-999

​

His opponent's opening move showed him to indeed be the formidable warrior Hans had assumed. The Stormtrooper's lightning fast approach and strike needed to be countered just as quick. He could raise his shield to intercept the large blade, but he knew it would cause him undue problems. If it didn't outright knock him to the ground, it would still leave him weakened.

As the blade came down, Hans side-stepped through the force. His great speed appeared like a blur, although he did not go far. Force Speed was a power he had first encountered fighting the Dread Sith at Dorin. Now it was a much loved part of his small, though trustworthy, repertoire of force powers. Without the protective plates and the Battlemind AI of his Imperial Knight armour, he found relying on the force to be all the more necessary.

Now at the side of his opponent, Hans lunged and slashed at the man's abdomen. The armour of his opponent might have stopped the blade from doing any real damage, but Hans was fine with that. He knew all he had to do was outpace the heavy swings of the greatsword to wear the man down. He wasn't quite in favour of getting hit by the thing, nor was he in favour of paying for drinks. Still, those beat a fight to the death.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
THYRSUS // OUT & ABOUT
[VIBES] | [DRIP]

---

---

Lucien smirked as she beckoned him to follow. "Lead the way." He smirked, following behind the woman with a manageable pace compared to her own. He couldn't help but see the similarities between the two women. Their brief interaction had been the first time the pair spoke directly to each other, yet that same fierceness he attributed to Lyra, he found permeating off the blonde as well. The thought made him smile, partially because he was happy that she had a friend so similar within the ranks of the Imperials.

Luc joined her on the railing, sauntering forth with the bottle in one hand and his eyes glued onto the horizon. Leaning against the railing with his forearms, he unscrewed the cap to the bottle, remaining on the quiet while Nima addressed the topic he wished to bring up. He raised the bottle to his lips, taking in a generous swig of the liquor in the meantime. It was smooth as always, even when it wasn't chilled down in a glass with some ice. He let Nima finish before entering the conversation as well. Another swig came before his words as he tilted his head into her direction, then offered her the bottle with a soft smile perched on his face.

"..I didn't know she was gone." He dipped his head, returning his gaze forwards towards the bright sun in the background. "I was in Alliance space, I think. It doesn't fuckin' matter either way-- I should've been there for her. Did something to help her, you know? Anything, Nima." He couldn't help but wonder where things went wrong. So much had happened between the conquest of Bastion till the present, and he never noticed her slipping out of his fingers. Luc promised that he'd protect her, no matter what she was going through.

Even whilst laying waste to the Stih upon Bastion, it was still his prime directive to help her get through Kyber Dark unscathed, given her desire to slay Avernus once and for all. Somewhere down the line he couldn't help but wonder where he'd messed up. She could've told him anything and he wouldn't have judged. Even if her secrets proved darker than he imagined.

But now she was lost, and he was left clueless where to begin.

He sighed, dipping his head towards the ground. "What happened, Nima? Before she...disappeared. I'm getting nothing from up top, besides the typical redacted bullshit given to me in the reports. I just need a lead to work with; something nobody else but you can give me. I know there were things that she wouldn't tell me. Things that I was too stupid to press her on. But I need something to latch onto, and I promise i'll find her." Luc swayed his eyes back towards her own.

"So we can find her, and bring her home."



Nima Appw'rii ​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE IV: - BYOO

TAGS: Rika Hiro

'Well it pays to learn not to shit in the wrong people's backyards Mr Barran, hopefully in all the infinite wisdom you've learnt from that you'll choose who your real friends are next time.'

Pulling a blaster-pistol of her own from the inner-pocket of her jacket, the agent placed it on her lap and aimlessly toyed with it in her vice-like, pincer gripping index-fingers and thumbs until it bored her. This HRD seemingly had all the time in the world, knowing well that Erskine's staffers had left the office building prior to their meeting, unwittingly leaving Barran completely at the woman's mercy for the duration of the encounter; compounding this fact was what happened after the HRD pulled a small device from the same pocket and fitted it to the front of the pistol's barrel, turning around emotionlessly as she lazily aimed it directly at the Lord Major's chest, with a look in her eye that almost dared him to react defiantly.
A tank commander, dying in a dinky auld office? Nah.... Ah think ah'll just behave masel, mate.

'Now you see Mr Barran, unlike the Sith and that little pygmy thing they call their intelligence wing, I can assure you with one hundred percent confidence-', the agent started, pausing momentarily as the pistol swayed nonchalantly from left to right, though keeping her finger around the trigger with a concerning disregard for trigger-discipline. All the Lord-Major could do was stay completely still, with hipflask in hand as the HRD continued,'If you stand against us, it won't be your wife's face you'll see when you breathe your last, it'll be mine.'

An outcome the Blue-Heart warlord didn't want for himself or his subordinates, as those cold eyes of the agent's looked more frightening than ever before, almost freezing Erskine on the spot as the feigned emotional-responses were completely absent by that point. Aiming the pistol above his head in a flash, the HRD fired a deft shot at the wall behind Erskine, leaving a small singe-mark on the top of his chair's headrest and a small circular burn mark a few inches under his favourite family-photo, before finally applying the safety and putting the pistol back into her pocket to resume her warning,'Just like that, I or whoever comes your way will be gone before half of your men realise you're dead.'

'It won't be cinematic Mr Barran.'
True, though I dare say our enemies would end my life just as unceremoniously.

'On that matter we can both agree, but rest assured I have no desire, or reason, to step on the many toes of your organisation.', Barran replied, pausing as thoughts of his family side-tracked him from his response's original framing. Starting with his wife, then onto his sons, Lord Erskine wondered what life would be like for them without him, but he'd snapped out of it; taking what was needed from the reminder to survive for their sakes, using it to keep his focus through the inquiry's pinnacle moments. Maintaining his utmost sincerity to close out his response, Erskine relaxed his seated posture and calmly said,'An' here's the thing, Tal is one of the greatest leaders, if not thee greatest leader Galidraan has ever known, yet he only ever seems to have designs on the Galidraani cluster. If Lord Willan had been younger, who knows? Yet the point still stands that our lot have been in the wild just a tad too long to be of any real concern to the NIO's highest echelons; and the next generation, lacking thoroughly in imagination and superstitious leanings, mindlessly urge themselves to uphold such traits as their own.'
​

​

 

[Vhainesco Farr]

|| COMBATANTS: Noel Strasza | Hans Rennagen | FN-999 Areyon | Julian Kaiser ||

OBJECTIVE I

RAGE OF THE SHADOW WARRIORS​

The response of Mando’a set the warrior off of his assumed path. He knew there were connections to the Sun Guard and the Mandalorian culture, direct inspiration shared between the pair, so he was expecting some reminders of Manda while he was on the planet. Though, hearing his own language tossed back at him by someone who, very clearly and decidedly, was far from Mandalorian? At least, not by the definition that Clan Farr carried itself to, that the Deathwatch and Sons carried themselves to, and not the definition that Kad Ha'rangir demanded from him.

She was rushing him, helmetless, speaking his own people’s tongue as if it was as common as her own.

An insult to be sure, but one he was curious about.

She was much faster than the Sun Guard warrior that had come to him before, instead of lumbering underneath layers of powerarmor and weighty tools of war and mayhem, she came darting like a lightning strike. The black-clad warrior bringing a blade flashing in the oppressive sun-soaked arena. He shifted his stance, bringing his left leg back and close while putting his weight onto his back right, leaning into it as he brought the beskad down from it’s overhead position. Swinging it down seconds nearly off mark, not managing to parry or even deny the attack. Simply assuring the edge of his opponents blade grated and spared against the edge of his beskad instead of hitching into the nicks of his armor. Following the move through with a spin to keep his sights on the attacker, taking steps back as he held the sword infront of him, two-handed, eyes peering beyond the split it formed down the center of his being.

<”Dar’manda!”> He cried out in Mando’a.

<”You speak our tongue like a native yet you do not wear it’s colors, you do not wear it’s iron!”>

He held his stance, knowing the bits of rage that were forming inside of him would turn any aggression into sloppy madness, not befitting a proper warrior such as himself.

Though, he was not to be rude to someone willing to match him on the field.

<”I am Vhainesco of Clan Farr, fighting to honor Kad Ha’rangir.”> The Oni bellowed.

He gave a small tip of his sword in the direction of Strasza, as if to ask the same question of her.

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

G e n e s i s _ A c t u a l

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THYRSUS
OUT & ABOUT

​

Nima regarded the man in a different light, the bar pressed uncomfortably into her back and she propped her elbows up on the railing. A pensive look crossed her face as she listened to him speak, shaking her head as he offered up the bottle. All notions of foolhardiness had evaporated. The mission was going to shit on the map table and she knew better. She pushed the thought aside. Nima had heard a thing or two about Dooku in confidence, Warlord or not he was a young gun. A single long noise drew from her throat, and ah sound; and epiphany. The woman could practically see the weight he bore, another fool taking on too much-could see the reality of the mess.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d partake if I wasn’t on call here-” Nima said, inhaling deeply before she turned to face the golden city, her expression dour and her eyes squinting in the face of the sun. “..Lets just back peddle a little here Lord Dooku, some facts if you will. It wasn’t and will never be your responsibility to safeguard her-”

It wasn’t the first time she had to have this talk with a soldier, what else could she regard him as. When his head drooped, the woman couldn’t help but curse silently. Emotions were already running high. Though superior was amongst his rank and title, Nima knew that alone had to be addressed. Damn it all, she wished she could have been just the same for Lyra. But it just didn’t pan out that way.

“We need to consider a few things here, go about this smart. During Helgard it was the COMPNOR agent Diamond Snake who was sent out to relieve her position after a mayday broadcast was received from Lyra. I got part of the report from him and uh..I have a code of her’s I used. Don’t you fucking snitch. I’ll send it to you but not too many people in the rank seem to know or care at least,” Nima muttered, dropping her voice low. She still owed Djorn Bline for the premature favor, didn't care for the man but she had to swallow her pride.

“The database identified the Cloak she was engaged in combat with on Heglard as Kascalion Giedfield. He uh...he was the one who did a lot of damage to the families and soldiers of the 12th and her own mother. Look I am trusting you with alot of this information because I know what happened on Dubrillion and the first siege of Bastion. She’s MIA and they didn’t find a body at the site, I really thought you’d have a better idea.”

Bastion’s cost echoed in the back of her mind and she idly drummed her fingers across the railing, the sorrow still marred the victory. She didn’t have the networking or influence alone-fuck if they had that information the Sith wouldn’t be a threat to begin with.. Shaking her head, every hour that had lead up to siege of the ice world still reeled in her mind. Lyra was a brick wall some days and it drove Nima mad, balancing professionalism? No the woman just didn’t want to fucking talk sometimes. Nima sighed then digging her fingers into her temples, gently massaging the dull ache that was rising.

“Don’t go making promises by the way, very bad idea. I just..I seldom got her to actually talk to me. She was every inch a constipated soldier, so you beating yourself up over it? Pointless, because I knew her for a decade, fought beside her. She’s been somewhere between a rock and a hard place since the start of this all because the Imperator. She wasn’t doing well, especially around the time we seized that red shit’s asessts. Darth Avernus? I couldn’t walk up to her and tell her what was right or wrong..I’m not going to lie, I was scared of her, scared for her. She didn’t hide the state of the..” Nima gestured vaguely to her own eyes, hoping the man could piece together the deterioration of visage. The mark of the Sith wasn't kind, and Nima..Nima wondered sometimes if she still recognized the woman separate from the post.

“..I get mad I start throwing things, she gets mad she thinks and stews. She was hunting Giedfield just like Avernus. So he’ll be at the center of it.”

She just hoped there was a woman to bring home still, what would become of her two kids. The strife alone raced through her limbs as the single worry ate away at her.

Lucien Dooku​

 

[Onansi of Thyrsus]

Bastard , Irveric Tavlar , Enlil , Caarlyle Rausgeber , Annasari , LT-137​

"A potential King to Eshan has called on you, as equals. He seeks to call you brother, and in so doing, would not only legitimize your people in the eyes of those beneath him, but make known to the Galaxy that Thyrsus won their holy war. You rose above the enslavement and torments thrust upon you. It is a spiritual victory, but it is one that stands above any bought in blood on a battlefield because no one needed die to attain it."

Onansi blinked blankly, followed by a raising of his upper lip into a sneer, at the words of the Imperial Warlord.

"Eshan's recognition, and their legitimization, possesses no weight on Thyrsus." The feelings of outsiders meant little to the Sun Guard. But it was the ilk of the Imperial that did not enjoy being told no. Accustomed to coming, and claiming all that they saw. The Grand Admiral apparent had been shut up earlier and was content with not speaking, but the Warlord of Ketaris was intent on convincing them of something. To their better nature? To the threat of War? To Onansi, Eshan's mere existence was a threat of war. "And the opinion of Outsiders, is held in a similar fashion." It was solely about who struck first.

And Onansi wanted blood.

Spilled by his own hand.

It didn't take long for the Supreme Sun Guardian to join in, and Onansi found himself to be content to flit his gaze back and forth between the two. Straightforward he was, and his ability to scheme was little. New to the game of politicking, but he was beginning to wrap his head around it. Beyond the arena of not so subtle threats and briberies. Maneuvering pieces. Concessions could be made. Temporary... Lies.

And once Irveric Tavlar himself spoke, Onansi was the first to clear his throat and nod his head.

"I am in agreement. We will... Glady await the day Errant Varanin reclaim the Throne of Eshan. Though... Thyrsus has never known a King, if it is of requirement for the Order to have a singular representative in the future... I, Onansi of House Sunstar, will gladly welcome the, uh, mantle."

Khonsu's heated remarks threatened the existence of Thyrsus, no... It threatened his claims of power.

 

[Rika Hiro]

Tag: DECEASED Erskine Barran

​

"You do have quite the picturesque family, Mr Barran, don't let the sins of the father be the catalyst for its end."

And she was right in her own words, even if it could be seen as brutally cruel. COMPNOR did not have any boundaries or restrictions when it came to its operations. If doing evil meant attaining what the organisation needed so great, it would be done no matter what. What was one minor career officers family in the grand scheme of things but a stepping stone that could be removed at the behest of the higher-ups signal. Asa hoped the old Galidraani knew this very well because it didn't mean anything to her if she got the call to do it. It was just another days work for her.

"I'm sure you find this conversation most exhilarating Mr Barran, but I fear I have to depart."

The HRD exhaled calmly and rose from where she sat so comfortably moments ago, collecting her badge from the ornate office desk and turned to leave. She stopped suddenly and swivelled around to look face to face with Barran once more, leaning on the side of an office cabinet carelessly.
​

"Oh and please do take into consideration, that what we do, we do for the order and Imperialism, you'll hear from us again, both you and Tal."

A little wave and she disappeared off into the night, departing as silently as she arrived. ​

 

[FN-999]

POST: III
EQUIPMENT: In signature, minus helmet & pauldron
OPPONENTS: Dueling Hans Rennagen

THE FEAST OF BLADES

FN-999 watched as the man evaded his strike with blinding speed.
​

The speed of the maneuver instantly reminded the captain of the Sith woman he had fought on Bastion and her psychic augmented mobility. If his opponent used a similar ability, then he was most likely fighting an Imperial Knight.

As he rose Iustitia once more and prepared for a second strike, he suddenly detected a thrust of the man's blade aimed at his torso. Without time to evade, FN-999 instead placed Iustutia between himself between himself and the man's weapon, effectively blocking its path. He let the two blades collide for an additional second, allowing the electricity of Iustitia to flow into the steel blade of the man's sword out of hope that he might be able to use his opponent's own weapon's properties to stun him.

Then, the captain swung his blade to the side, separating the two weapons and leaving about two meters of distance between the two combatants. With a new realization of his opponent's physical prowess, FN-999 adopted a new strategy. He rushed forwards for another strike, but instead of another powerful but slow vertical slam, he swung his blade from his right shoulder to his left flank, sweeping a large horizontal half-circle radius in front of him.

​

 

[Noel Strasza]

T R A U M A
THE THYRSIAN HIERARCHY PROUDLY PRESENTS:
THE FEAST OF BLADES
STARRING MAJOR NOEL "DEADER" STRASZA
the N E W I M P E R I A L W A R M A C H I N E
fighting THE LEGENDARY Vhainesco Farr
WITH APPEARANCES BY Hans Rennagen , Julian Kaiser , FN-999, and Areyon

The commando backpedaled with his counter, rolling onto her toes to poise herself as he twisted with her, keeping his helmeted sights on her. Smart; he was one to follow through. Her fibrous, artificial tongue flicked out across her upper lip, lapping at the unnaturally dark, jelly-like blood that trickled along from her now forcibly clotting wound. She squared herself, raising both arms in front of her, curling hands into fists.​

<”Dar’manda! You speak our tongue like a native yet you do not wear its colors, you do not wear its iron! I am Vhainesco of Clan Farr, fighting to honor Kad Ha’rangir.”>

His words hit somewhere deep within her steely shell, somewhere that she still cared for her people and homeworld. But she did not show this, no, to show emotion in a time like this was a weakness. If she had learned anything from rallying with raiding parties on Krieg, it was that. ​

​

The tip of his sword offered her direction encouraged her to speak in an answer to the question she had asked of him and she nodded once with his own introduction. He rang some vague familiarity, perhaps, but once more, this went without display across her exposed, sand-smeared face. Her words came in Mando'a, cast out between them: <"I am a native,"> she remarked first, tipping her head in mild appraise to the left, <"The name is Major Noel Strasza."> She offered him nothing as far as her world or clan were concerned- though she didn't feel shame for such a thing, she doubted he was familiar with the Shi'lai by any stretch. ​

​

Most people forgot the arid world of Krieg even existed.​

​

The cyborg shifted her heels forward, inching her closer, before launching herself at once. She lunged for him, feigning an upward cleave to his left before throwing her weight at the last second, and attempting to drive the tip of her vibroblade into his lower right side- just above his hip where she assumed his armor was weak.​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE IV: - BYOO

TAGS: Rika Hiro

'You do have quite the picturesque family, Mr Barran, don't let the sins of the father be the catalyst for its end.'

Knowing exactly which picture the agent was referring to, Erskine understood the implications of her words almost instantly, seeing that the long reach of COMPNOR could, almost just as easily as they found the Lord-Major, effortlessly reach past the man himself to eradicate every family-member within his branch (and perhaps the junior-branch also) of Clan Barran; wiping out it's history as if the HRD's commanders were merely snuffing the flames atop a wax prayer-candle, an outcome his ancestors-of-old would sneer at him for, something Erskine was all too acutely aware of. However, Barran knew also knew not to take it to heart, for times of war needed cloak-and-dagger elements to keep everyone in line, and to gain access to places others could only dream of; such operators were known to turn the tide of war, especially in the galaxy he'd roved for so many years, so the Lord-Major kept his cool for the sake of everyone whose futures he was fighting for.

'I'm sure you find this conversation most exhilarating Mr Barran, but I fear I have to depart.'

the Lord-Major watched as the HRD rose to her feet, picking up her agency-badge and pocketing it, then picking up her sunglasses before turning to leave. Pivoting suddenly on the spot, the agent's glare briefly met with Erskine's watchful eyes as she said,'Oh and please do take into consideration, that what we do, we do for the order and Imperialism, you'll hear from us again, both you and Tal.', placing on the shades to hide the stare of the cold-blooded killer behind them. Letting the parting comment hang in the silent air for a moment before turning again to depart, the COMPNOR operative then slowly paced her way to the door, and from there she vanished into the shadows of the night.
Can't even hear the footsteps any more, almost as if she was never even here to begin with....

Exhaling a deep, loud sigh of relief, Barran couldn't help but chuckle at how close to death he was, exclaiming,'Oaft, bai! Absolutely snookered you, did she no? Scunnered, so ye were!', with a fortunate guffaw to cast light on what could've easily become the darkest of nights for the Blue-Hearts. Even though Lord Erskine was trying his hardest not to do or say anything stupid, he understood that just one perceived slip-up would be used against him in any capacity COMPNOR deemed fit for implementation; and yet, in that moment, the Lord-Major realized that current truths could later be viewed as lies if Tal's ambitions ever outgrew Galidraan itself. Briefly cussing himself out on that fact, Erskine could do nothing but resign himself to the fact he had just locked the Blue-Hearts in with the NIO as their war-pigs forevermore.
We'll discuss this sacrifice if ever Tal goes rogue on us, but we'll just have to take an unspoken wager on that for the time-being.

'Fine by me....'

​

​

 

[Hans Rennagen]

The Feast of Blades
Sword, Shield, Outfit
Opponent: FN-999

​

As his strike was blocked, the blades held together for a moment too long. Hans could feel the heat rising in his vibrosword's hilt as it was overpowered by the size and strength of his opponent's. As they broke away from one another and put space between them, Hans powered down the blade to avoid losing a hand when it overcharged. He tossed his blade, rendered almost useless for a time, into the sand and made a break for it, hoping to position himself behind the man once again.

No more than a foot into his dash, the wide arc of the Captain's blade rushed towards him. With a split second to act, Hans threw up his buckler shield. The blade collided with is, caving in ornate metal with a crunch and stopping Hans dead in his tracks. The force of the swing against the small shield sent the knight onto his back, lying in the sand.

Unarmed and down was not the ideal position, but he wasn't about to buy drinks over a slight fumble such as this. Whenever Hans was knocked down, he always got back up.

Reaching out through the force, still prone, he pulled the inert vibroblade into his hand, ready to block whatever crushing blow his opponent made next. Even rendered without its vibration generator, the blade was still of superb Thyrsian make. The odds were stacked against him, but defeat was not wholly inevitable...

 

[Lucien Dooku]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER // WARLORD OF NIRAUAN
THYRSUS // OUT & ABOUT
[VIBES] | [DRIP]

---

---

Lucien leaned against the railing, quietly waiting as Nima dived into the pieces of information that Luc himself was missing. He took her words to heart, even if on the outside it would appear as if he was simply filled with sorrow. He was filled with anger if anything; Luc knew that the woman was far too independent for him to ever see the reigns reeled in on her behavior. He pretended as if everything had been alright, even when the visible signs of corruption had been present in the months after the fall of Bastion. He felt foolish, if he were to be honest with himself. Had it been any other individual in a similar situation, Luc wouldn't have hesitated to judge the scene for what it was. He fooled himself into believing that the death of Avernus would bring her the resolution to the drawn out arc that the Sith Lord had reeled her into.

He knew it wasn't his fault. In the end she was a grown woman, and Lucien could only do so much to intersect with her life Their paths moved on two different trajectories in spite of everything he did to make sure they remained connected. She wasn't just some Sith that he could draw his blade upon with zero empathy at all. Even if the corruption had reached a point of no return, she would always just simply be Lyra to him, and he would never stop looking for a way to save her. The blame wouldn't fall upon him alone, but Luc wouldn't let her continue down her path. Though separated from each other by a distance unknown, he could still feel her out there. She was alive; he felt it in his soul it seemed, and that was enough for him to commit.

Even if the cost proved great, he'd find her and bring her home.

It was a promise that he made to himself long before he let the words be said to Nima. He didn't double-down on it though, instead choosing to keep the words to himself and allow his actions to speak for him instead. She continued onwards with providing him the pieces to the puzzle that had been alluding him since the beginning. Names were being mentioned that brought a light to his eyes that was previously dull from the moments just before.

He knew who this Diamond Snake was; Djorn Bline was an adversary of his through their mutually shared connection in that dog Jaeger Harrsk . The two had fought together in spite of the active measures being authorized by both the Commissioner and Lucien himself. Regardless of their issues internally, Diamond Snake had earned himself a favor for what he'd done. A favor that he'd keep in mind the next time he had the agent at the end of his blade.

The next name mentioned triggered a far more heated reaction in the otherwise impassiveness that was on display. He gripped the bars of the railing, tilting rage-filled eyes towards Nima in the process. She'd mentioned a Sith who he'd never met himself, but nonetheless he knew who he was.

"Kascalion." Luc gritted his teeth, spitting out the Sithari's name with spite. He mulled over all the possible scenarios, attempting to settle on the most likely conclusion to the encounter between him and Lyra. He wanted to believe that she didn't willingly submit herself to the Sith's will. She had always been strong; her strength bled into Luc, and the Lyra that he knew would have never let herself fall to the whims of one who only sought to control her.

He wanted to believe this was true, but Nima could only confirm what he knew along. She had long been in the process of falling to corruption, courtesy of her relation with the the now dead Avernus . "I..I don't know him. I know of him, though, this Kascalion Giedfield . He's had run-ins with both the Sovereign Imperator and my brother in the past, and has long been a nuisance to the Order's ambitions during the Braxant Campaign."

Luc raised off the railing, closing his eyes and letting his breathing slow down. He relaxed his mind before his emotions took a turn for the worse. The last thing he wanted to do was to appear weak in front of the woman who he just boasted to about saving their friend. "If this Sith piece of shite has Lyra, then chances are she's..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "...Chances are she's-- I-I mean..." He didn't want to say it out loud, nor did he want to believe it. There was still good in her, even if her actions might be confusing to him, to say the least.

"Regardless-- Kascalion is a solid lead. We find him, there's a good chance we find Lyra. At least that's what my gut is telling me. I can speak with the Imperator directly about him. See if I can get somethin' from him to help me find this bastard and bring Lyra home. If that doesn't work? I can try somethin' else. I'll keep searching, no matter how far I need to look." ​

 

[FN-999]

POST: IV
EQUIPMENT: In signature, minus helmet & pauldron
OPPONENTS: Dueling Hans Rennagen

THE FEAST OF BLADES

The captain's swing struck true, knocking the man back as he blocked the blow with his shield.
​

He fell to the ground, giving FN-999 all the time he needed. He rushed forwards to deliver a knockout blow, the rising cheers of the crowd powering him to sprint faster and faster towards his opponent. He drew his sword as to block his strike, but the captain could tell that it would not be enough. His opponent still lay prone, wielding a far smaller and lighter weapon. With a downward swing arcing from his head to the ground, the combined forces of gravity and weight would snuff out any remaining resistance.

If FN-999 could now inflict such significant punishment upon a user of the Force, then today's duel would be a victory for him in more ways than one. For the first time in his life, the trooper would be able to face the guilt of losing his First Order squad to the Sith head-on. A victory in this duel would be the first step to overcome his deep-rooted fear of the psychic Force.

The captain began his momentous swing, bringing his blade down to conclude the duel.

A large object struck the left side of his blade as it passed his chest, sending it half a meter to the right of the man's torso.

FN-999 instinctively glanced to the left, noticing that a combatant several dozen meters away had tossed throwing knives at their own partner, and one of them had accidentally intercepted his blow. Intention or pure misfortune, it didn't matter to the captain. What mattered now was regaining his composure before his advantage was lost.

 

[Nima Appw'rii]

G e n e s i s _ A c t u a l

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
THYRSUS
OUT & ABOUT

​

The woman scrutinized Dooku out of habit-she wasn’t blind to the smallest change in his demeanor. Carefree echoed through her mind, now she remembered the exact words Lyra had used. It wasn’t right persay, Lucien seemed to slip through the cracks and maybe that’s why the General had bothered to mention him. He left an impression. Nima shifted her weight easily, looking back over the city-catching his angry gaze. She had struck a nerve and she wondered how much was left unsaid. Lines etched the woman’s face as she frowned deeply, it never boded well. Nima had seen that tenacity in another fool’s eyes and a pang struck her.

She was tired of seeing faces eaten up, one hand balled at her side-point and shoot certainly wasn’t an option.

Maybe in the end all the information was better served with him alone, he had the flexibility-could trapeze the higherarcy. Raising a single hand it hovered over the man’s iron grip atop the railing. Something ached in her chest and she dropped her hand atop his listening as he spoke as if it might fend of his rage. A friend of a friend was good enough for her and she was stacking favor in his corner.

The more desperate side of her wanted to swear up and down vehemently, that they would bring the woman home. She did appreciate the sentiment, but they’d have to be realistic in the end. Nima wondered if she was even one to talk about anger-what it would do. Hadn’t it gotten Lyra where she was? It felt like hypocrisy. She had been irate once upon a time, @Djorn had seen this very same side of herself. Dooku had a better idea of the Sith but even then, it wasn’t enough for the woman to feel satisfied.

She pulled back her hand after a long minute and he moved.

Nima didn’t let her imagination rampant often, refusing in the face of every horrible possibility. They all knew what could happen, had heard about-Nima stepped back and crossed her arms to reset her attentions. She could see the weight stacking up against the man as he composed himself; the lull in his words. It was bad and Nima’s frustration burned behind both eyes and she sucked in a sharp breath shaking her head.

“We do our best Dooku, and that’s it. We gotta be rational. If you got strings to pull then by all means abuse it. I don’t want to think about the worst, trust me but-we don’t know. We don’t know until we find her or find Kascalion if he’s orchestrated something,” Nima answered in turn, her shoulders thrown back as she hefted her chin up. “I don’t like martyrs, I really don’t so don’t play that card. She wouldn’t like that either-she’d be pissed. I can use my leverage in the three hundred and seventh to make something happen. You’ll have my code link, and you give me a call when you need me or Genesis.”


The woman tapped her knuckles against his shoulder to get his attention, worry for the man now.

“It’ll be okay, one way or another-I think..”

Lucien Dooku ​