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The Slave sat in his chair as the hologram before him spoke his pseudonym. On his lips he wore a faint smile, a crooked grin based solely off the oxymoron he spoke; forcing The Slave to crack his own grin in response. At some level, the two were friends, even if Arken was his subordinate. In The Slave’s eyes, they were on even ground in many personal regards, even if not in others.
He chuckled faintly before waving a dismissive hand.
“I don’t intend to leave the comfort of my ship. Not yet at least.”
He let his hands clasp around an electrum rimmed glass, sipping the crimson liquid before setting it back down and speaking once more;
“Unless something truly demands my attention, I’m here to observe.”
Cybele snorted in the background, her interjection a jab at his lazy behavior. She knew it wasn’t some stoic stance of authority to watch, only that he preferred to sit on his rump high above the ship and just watch. He was being lazy, in its simplest definition, and there was no other way around it. She caught a quick glance from him, but continued on her hive mind work of manipulating thousands of soldiers and workers at once.
Objective 4: Discover more about Oricon Location: Lava Flows -> Upstream Prospective: Ignis Imura Tags: Anyone who feels like joining me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7hm1gI17e0
Falling and tumbling quite a distance, I finally came to a stop after landing on my back. Dirt everywhere on me, and I could feel heavy. My vision fading as the light that was Lucem was hanging over me. His little frame falling to sit beside my head. Accepting that I had perished. I hadn't yet. I felt like my body was broken and beaten. I could feel hot crimson liquid falling from my arms and hands. My shoes were torn all to hell, and my back and chest were scratched and bruised. Even breathing hurt. I wanted to give up. I wanted to just lay there and let whatever happen, happen. I was content.
That was, I knew I was seeing something when my mother, Lexa came to sit beside me. Her voice soft and soothing as she rubber her hand against my forehead.
"It's okay Ignis. You tried your best. You can defeat it next time." "There isn't a next time." "Who are you talking to?" "I love you hun. It's okay." "It's not okay." "Ignis? Are you hallucinating?" "Do you remember your middle name?" "Yes." "Morna. A name of your uncle who fought and died for me and you. He did everything he could." "I know." "He never gave up though. Even if he was stabbed and blown up." "This is different." "No it's not. It's a test. A test of your strength. Try again."
Tears started to fall down my face as I watched my mother dissipate into the wind. Her body leaving me here. I started to feel cold. This is what it felt like dying. The heat and pain leaving me. My head moved over to Lucem as he sat there. Turning to face back up to the sky. I hated myself. If I couldn't do this, then there was no way I could continue the family. I wouldn't be able to further and bring us to a better time. Groaning, I lifted my head to look at myself. I needed to do this. I needed to get this done. Picking myself up, I moved to a kneeling position. Groaning and hurting the entire way. Much like my fight with Juliet, and my training with Sahna, I needed to steel myself against this. I needed to keep myself going.
I punched myself in the gut. Hitting hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. Coughing and attempting to breathe in, I forced myself to gather the power from within me. I could feel my body grow heavier, but not in the way one may think. I started to not feel the heat. I started to not even feel the mud as it was on my skin. It was as if my body didn't care for it anymore. Standing up, I slammed my fist into the wall. Blasting it away with such force that it echoed like a gunshot. Looking at my hand, I found the dirt was removed, but no breaking of my skin, or bleeding. Smiling deeply, Lucem looked over to me. He said no words as I once more continued to climb. Picking myself up and back over the area that I had already traversed, I moved much faster now. Finding renewed strength.
My training as a Sith didn't help me. My mother didn't help me. No. I had to do this alone. I had to do this on my own terms. My previous training as a Matukai was being used, and welcomed within my form. Unable to find a good place to make purchase within the rock, I slammed my hands through the rock. Creating handholds to pull myself up. Slamming my hands time and time again into the rock to pull myself up. Only when I did it one last time, My hand slipped. The rock breaking much to easily, as I found myself at a ledge. Pulling myself up to the ledge, I found that this was a small vent that led into the volcano.
Smiling, It looks like I made progress. Getting up here was not easy. With that, Lucem floated up beside me and shook his head.
"Sith and their stubborn recklessness." "I am not Sith." "Then what are you?" "I would say something more, but that seems dumb."
Lucem's body just shook again as I walked onward into the vent, and could feel the heat rising higher and higher with every step.
The Matador had been notified of the arrival of more Sith, including a gluttonous sith with the intention of devouring the aforementioned and slain creatures. He had no intention of prohibiting the creatures activities and cared little for them and tried to keep him mind away from the consequences of such actions. He doubted any amount of boiling or salting would remove the gross amount of bacteria and swarms of diseases that riddled the creatures here. By their very nature as dark side apparitions, they were filth.
He had no qualms about slaying the creatures, they were to his mind in general just tougher and stranger variations of what he'd already slay with little effort. The Matador reached the open doorway, hunching into nearly a crouch as he entered. He felt a crunch, looking beneath his feet to see a skeleton, now missing a skull and a large portion of its spine. The Matador held his gaze on it for a moment, wondering why the creatures he had saw outside hadn't tried to escape, nor any of those within. Perhaps the concept of home had meaning even to these monsters when it had none to him.
He moved a few feet forward as darkness met his eyes. The power source within the fortress had been likely destroyed by the creatures or possibly de-activated to prevent them from escaping by whomever had lived here. It hadn't seem to be worth the effort, the creatures continued to reside here. It was a possibility they were bound to the place by whomever had created them. It appeared to the Matador that once more he was on another walkway. He couldn't see it but, he felt it would make sense given the previously symmetrical style of the place. Between them was a dim light coming from upward, it shinned on something grey and still. He couldn't quite see what it was, but he could see that the little light exposed on its metallic surface was natural light.
He leaned over the edge of the railing, looking at the ceiling as it seemed just beyond each walkway it curved upward, stretching high into the sky. From the outside, the tower appeared to sit on the very front of the Fortress. The tower was hollow, full of walkways dotting all the way upward, at the very top; there was a massive hole. Suddenly, the Matador jolted as he say the grey metallic mass move. Chains that dangled from its mass clanging against each other. It grumbled, a low and waking moan. The Matador switched to thermal vision, looking for the power source. Instead, he found himself entirely too close to a massive Subteroth, with massive ribbed metallic skeletal flesh, its skin hanging from its body. His eyes dashed to the side as he only then realised its hand was mere inches away. The Matador dashed backward, Oribuir activated in his hand; its massive weight slicing through the flesh of the Subteroth's hand.
The creatures skeletal hand fell against the railing, twitching as the Subteroth screamed; releasing a painful blood curdling scream with a force enhanced shockwave. The Matador winced as it used its stub to thrust downward towards him. He dashed to the side, ready to strike with Oribuir at the thick of its wrist as the walkway collapsed under the strength of the creatures arm. The Matador fell 15 feet before reaching the ground. The Matador was quick to return his gaze to the creature, now observing its full size. The subteroth was beyond overgrown, its growth merely halted by the confines of its space. It stood at nearly 20 feet in height, its legs were as broad as he was. The creature staggered for a moment as it lowered its arm, thrusting in an upward angle directly at the Matador. The strike caught him before he could return to his feet, knocking him back against the wall behind him. The creature stepped forward, swinging its massive arm downward, its stub spewing blood down the wall.
The Matador dashed to the side as the creatures arm met the ground with a thud that made him shudder. The Matador spun Oribuir in the air, bringing down the blade in a two handed grip into the forearm of the creature. Beskar and hot raging Plasma cut through the metallic flesh of the creature like butter and forged its way into the ground, holding the creature's arm in place; the Matador had aimed his weapon between its veins and bones, if it pulled hard enough; it would damage every part of its arm. The creature roared again swinging its left arm at a diagonal. The Matador used force enhanced speed against the creature, ducking under its strike as his saber ignited in hand, slashing at the creatures arm. The lightsaber lacked the weight Oribuir had, and thus had a lesser effect. The Matador threw his saber, manipulating it with a telekinetic grip in the direction of the Subteroths eyes. The blade spun, slashing over and over at the creatures eyes. The blade launched back, deactivated to the Matador's hand, quickly leading to his hip.
The Subteroth screamed once again as it swiped its free arm back, hitting the Matador with its massive curved blades that erected from its forearms. The impact knocked him back several feet, skidding across the metal floor into a heap. Groaning as he saw the creature reach for the ignited blade of Oribuir, only to burn its own fingers. The creature began to tug at its arm, in some form of desperation to release itself.
Kilrys was hungry for blood. It had been too long since his last feeding of soup and he was desperate to slaughter more and more. Gripping his long sword, he entered the palace chasing the others who had already entered in there. Hearing roars of a beast deeper inside, Kilrys licked his lips, something he could feed off. The palace was huge and he could feel the power of the Dark Side that was seeping from the planet and the palace, it fed some of his hunger but not enough. The Force was never enough for Kilrys, he needed soup that resided inside living beings. The thought of hunting actual Force Users had him drooling in deep-seated hunger.
As the Sith Acolyte stalked towards the noises of combat, a sense caught his attention. He could sense a living being, one that was in touch with the Force and he could tell that they weren't part of the Sith Empire. Their presence was a mix of Light and Dark, they were not a Sith so it meant that they would be acceptable prey for him. Switching direction he chased after his newfound prey. Hunting in the shadows he came closer and closer to them, finally he spotted them, a woman. She seemed focused on her own task, he moved forward, his keen eyes constantly watching them as he bided his time until she was less ready for his strike. His telepathy wasn't strong enough yet to use on her, his powers weak due to a lack of feeding.
The Matador stood observing the creature for a moment, staggering with skewered vision as it shifted its feet along the ground. He launched forward, channelling a massive force blast through both of his hands; the creature continued to tug effortlessly on it's shoulder, only serving to twist and snap bones as Oribuir caused blood to gush from the gaping wound. The force energy built to explosive blast, shooting out from the Matador's palms into the chest of the beast as it pulled once more. The creature shot backward, Oribuir coming free from its wrist as the creature slid back, its own momentum being used against it.
The Matador called Oribuir to him as the creature roared now instead, a red glow surging about its body as a dark side imbued rage filled the creature as it dashed towards the Matador, lashing out with both arms. The Matador met it's speed in equal ferocity, using the force to imbue his movement as he dashed under the creature right arm, spinning and carrying Oribuir through the hip of the creature like a knife through butter, as he spun, his body turning away from the creature as he pulled his arms closer as his front came towards the creature once more, Oribuir cut deeper, slicing through its upper abdomen, causing blood to gush out. His farthest foot from the Subteroth sith-spawn met the ground with a thud, stopping his spinning momentum as he turned to strike once more.
The Subteroth responded with frightening speed, its leg shooting out behind it and striking the Matador directly in the chest. He slid across the ground, Oribuir's length falling against the ground as the Matador lost his momentum, causing the blade to fall. Soon, his hands found themselves both of its grip as the massive creature turned on its heel, striking its stump directly where he stood. The Matador dashed backward slashing at a diagonal at the subteroths already battered arm. It retracted its strike, using its own momentum to strike with its undamaged arm, its curved bone growth connecting with the blade of Oribuir.
The bone was tougher but not invulnerable as the blade cut a few inches into the skeletal blade. The Matador dashed back, pulling Oribuir and allowing the friction from his movement to cut deeper, he turned the blade in his hand to have the flat facing the creatures arm, batting it to the side, allowing the cutting age to run along the inside of its wrist and cutting through its upper arm. He used the momentum of the strike to dash forward, and brought Oribuir to bare; striking at the back of the creature. The Subteroth growled as it jolted from the strike, turning and slashing furiously at the ground. The Matador expected the haste filled strike, pirouetting over the attack and using his body's momentum to separate the creatures arm at its joint.
Objective: Her own
Location: Dread Palace
Post: 3
Nearby: [member="Kilrys Serccci"]
Even though the darkness around her pressed down on her, Jairdain still had enough senses to know when she was being followed. Cursing her own lack of thought about keeping herself hidden, she erected a barrier around herself, but kept moving in her original direction. She could hope he was here for a separate purpose than hers. If that wasn't the case though, she should be able to evade him well enough.
Reaching a crossroads, Jairdain took the opposite turn than what she felt drawn to. He shouldn't have a clue what her purpose here was and she didn't know his. Time would tell and she was patient. Through the Force, she knew there were other creatures in front of her. However, there was the chance she could try to charm them to do her bidding if they tried to attack her. Of course, that could also backfire and they would resist her attempts. If that happened, then she may have both the creatures and this man fighting her.
Stopping before getting too close to the beast, she went into stealth, but kept her Force signature open to be felt. In the visual spectrum, she would be invisible. If the man was after her and started looking, he would still feel her. The only thing he might see was a shimmer where the light waves met her body.
Objective 4
The sith arrived by his ship he walked out with his two lightsabers by his side ready for a possible ambush
he walked the crusted lands of oricon staying alert at all times hoping he would be able to challenge a worthy
opponent as most of his trips before had been to check on the area
Hearing something he turns quickly pulling the air infront of him to make anything not tied down fly towards him
Just a small Bunny like creature
He stares it deep in the eyes
...
Still staring
...
The sound of a saber igniting fills the air
he drops the creature leaving a hole through its chest
Objective: Are you karking serious? It did what? Location: Mineral Flats Nearby: [member="Morgan Vance"]
It was, without a doubt, the stupidest reason she'd ever been dispatched for. One of the building overseers, on a day off from managing the work being done on the Administrative Center, was stuck.
Not just any overseer either. A Houk. And not just stuck.
Stuck in a bathtub slowly sinking into the salt hot springs he'd dragged it to.
Where he'd gotten the bathtub or the idea from, they had no clue. Apparently someone had casually mentioned that the waters from the hot springs, if they could be rerouted and cooled, would be ideal for skin care for certain, thicker skinned species. Soft and exfoliate or some such nonsense, someone should built a resort! It would make a mint!
Apparently, the part where the waters would need to be cooled because otherwise it would cook most sentients alive had gone over the Houk's head. Sick to death of ashy knees or maybe just wondering if the water would buff out those weird patches on his feet, he'd gotten the bright idea to ladle the waters into the tub (which would cool them enough, yes?) right on top of him.
Of course, one scoop was enough to leave second degree burns and dissuade the stay-cationing overseer. There was only one problem.
The tub was too small. And his rear end was wedged in thoroughly.
Dante and Morgan along with a small team of engineers, stood at the edge of the spring crater, perplexed and irritated by the whole thing.
"This," Dante finally said, breaking the silence. "Stuff like this is why I drink."
That was patently false, but it got some chuckles from the corp of engineers.
Objective: Are you karking serious? It did what?
Location: Mineral Flats
Nearby: [member="Dante Sotari"]
It wasn't too bad... working for the Sith Empire.
They had dental, insurance and were even afforded a healthy amount of sick days when that was necessary. Their equipment was top-notch, they got to see beautiful places every once in a while and the exercise was good for them. But then... then there were days like these that Morgan just blinked. And wasn't actually too sure what he was doing with them.
A Houk Overseer, okay, the Empire had a very lenient approach towards aliens and encouraged diversity amidst their ranks.
Only merit mattered.
Overseeing the construction efforts and making sure that the industry of Oricon was protected as it was build up, okay, he could handle that too. But nowhere did his job state that he had to pull out a Hauk, whose ass was stuck in a bathtub. "I-" Head tilted slightly as he eyed the embarrassed and miserable Hauk trying to get himself out again.
Coarse whiiiiiiine as it didn't work out for him.
Morgan briefly glanced over to Dante. "Ain't too late to throw each other off the stairs and get committed to the forward clinic." That inspired some more chuckles, but it was clear that neither of them was getting out of this. Not with the engineer corps staring at their backs and closing off any exit point. "Alright, so. Hmm. Maybe we should grease him up a bit?"
A shrug followed after.
"Could make it easier to pull him out of that tub."
Not that he approached the tub, the Houk was starting to get anxious and Vance wouldn't be surprised if he started swiping with his arms next. "Wonder if we can tranquilize him...." The mumble came soon after, only for Dan's ears. "Whaaaa?" The overseer alarmingly asked, while staring at his position, then to the engineers and then the two humans nearby.
"Oh, nothing, just trying to figure out how to get youout."
Objective: The Dread Fortress
Location: The Dread Palace
Her fingers on her left hand began slowly curling themselves until the jagged, dirty nails dug into her palms when she saw the Acolyte kneel before her.
"Why do you bend your knee to me?"
Very few Sith, if any, held the belief that such a gesture was meaningless. She never broke a knee to anyone, and she would never do so unless she was dead. However, she understood it was meant to be respectful; silently approving it.
"Stand up....less you wish to remain in that posture and miss this glorious opportunity to walk with me."
Without waiting to watch the bear rise, she turned her back on him moving toward the deeper parts of the defunct fortress. Whether he joined her or not, she had business to attend to. There was something here that demanded her attention, his too if he felt it. Halting her walk, she sighed.
"My name is Darth Venefica....and whether you survive today or not....live or dead you will be quite useful to me."
"Milord, we've detected the a single battlecruiser moving into sector 47. It's the Technicolor Beat, sire."
As if on cue the battlecruiser in question finally came into view through the bridge's viewport, an angular warship not dissimilar from the Blade of Fate. However, the Technicolor Beat was once in service to the Dominion whereas the Blade of Fate was created by the One Sith.
Both, in one way or another, now served the Sith Empire.
"Open communications with their bridge, I wish to speak to their captain." A captain who was somewhat of a curiosity, an oddity certainly. He went by the moniker of [member="The Slave"], though the reason why he had adopted such a title was beyond the Dark Lord's knowledge. Carnifex had little reason to trust the androgynous Sith, especially considering his past connections to the Dominion and the deceased [member="Irajah Ven"], but he had shown commendable cooperation to the new Imperial regime so he was allowed to linger.
At least for now.
As communication was established between the two warships the image of the Dark Lord was displayed before the Slave and vice versa. "This is Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith, reaching out to the master of the Technicolor Beat, the Slave. He expresses interest in your presence above Oricon, a former Dominion world." The voice of Aquila, the AXIOS A.I. installed on the Blade of Fate, rang out across the Technicolor's bridge.
Kilrys didn't need to use his eyes to see the woman, his senses as a hunter would guide him. He could hear her light steps, her aroma and of course he could still sense for Force presence. His proboscises wriggled free as he drooled at the thought of draining this Force User of her soup. It would taste delicious and sate the ache he felt in his stomach. The weakness in his muscles and cries of hunger in his head were driving him insane. He ignored lesser beasts for this Force user, while they would potentially help in strengthening him, he wanted more and there was more on offer. He just had to take it.
Reaching the crossroads that his prey previous met moments beforehand. He followed where the woman was going, he was partly interested in seeing what she was doing out this way on her own. However, his hunger meant that he would not find out. Once he caught sight of a shimmering figure, he grinned. Clever girl. Gone invisible. Not for long, be mine soon. Kilrys thought as he leaped forward with his claw like nails outstretched and ready to strike. He growled like a feral beast as he attacked her, he needed to take her soup. He was too weak to do it through telepathy, he had to weaken her, use his draining strength.
Objective Four: Yet Another Fortress Location:Oricon Fortress Tags: Empty
The Sergent Bastian was to work with pressed a finger to his helmet. Receiving a message from someone. In the meantime, time was killed in a quiet fashion. Not a whole lot to do when you have to wait on others to shuttle you about. Bastian would have loved to run off for another cup of caf but by the time he'd even left the hanger they'd probably be calling him back saying they were ready to go. The taskmasters didn't like it when you doddle on a mission.
"Troopers, load up! Bastian sir, pilot says we're ready to move out."
"Alright. Lets get going then."
Bastian and everyone else filed on to the gunship in an organized fashion. The engines kicked in as he found a seat to take up. There wasn't a whole lot of room for ten people. That made for a good question why they were taking a gunship and not a proper transport. Oricon wasn't really crawling with hostiles. Not really intelligent ones armed with weapons to attack the ship anyways. Bastian smirked to himself at the thought of throwing in that in his after report. Transportation befitting someone of my status insufficient. Reprimand whoever requisitioned my transport on Oricon. Sure the paper pusher probably wouldn't give a kark about it, or whoever would read it. While Bastian was being snarky the ship hurled itself upwards and out into the void of space. A quick hand to a handgrip steadied himself. Well, whatever was down there was gonna be getting a visitor soon.
The trip down through the atmosphere was quite pleasant. The pilot upfront must be quite skilled to keep any decent from being rather rough. The Sergeant pointed up above Bastian, his voice muffled over the engines too much to make out. Tilting his head to an awkward angle to see past the brim of his cap was a commset dangling above. Those were shoved over his ears and like magic he could hear voices!
"Go ahead again over."
"Eyes on target sir. Definitively some kind of fortress. Giving off energy reading too. Likely ray shielded, shouldn't have a problem getting through it."
"Alright, any defenses you can see. Turrets or concussion launchers?"
"Not from out here sir. I'll get us in for a closer look and verify."
Bastian had a lump in his throat form. Getting shot down was bad for survival and he was relying entirely on this pilot to keep that from happening. He sure wished for his own eyes to be on the target. Seconds ticked by that seemed like minutes. The soldiers didn't seem unnerved. Hard to tell with their buckets on but they stood calmly as they had on the way down.
"Clear from hear. I'm moving us in. If you wanna come up to the cockpit for a look, now's the time sir."
If only she'd mentioned that before he got all worried over possible imminent death. Some people have no consideration on these matters. Bastian wasted no time, nearly jumping up from his seat to get in the front end of this bird for a look at what they were dealing with.
Of course, it was him the Minister would send to oversee the Sith-Imperial industrial efforts on this piece of rock that someone had decided to give a name despite its complete obscurity from galactic records. And what exactly was so precious here? Knowledge, the Sith had said.
What knowledge could they possibly find on this waste of galactic space.
If it was up to Minister Vakara, he would've stripped the planet into chunks of rock and sell it with the price tag of phrik to a Miralukan.
But he was no Minister.
Yet.
Until then, he would indulge in zeroing his expenses completely on 'necessary consumables'. That'll teach them.
Not only was this piece of rock useless to Soon-to-be-Minister Vakara but he also had to be present on the 'comical' situation of a Houk being stuck. Vakara's utter disgust with the 'planet' and lack of desire to be here finally lit up the flames of impatience as he barked:
"What in the Dark Lord's name is exactly going on here?" His big eyeballs shifted between two obviously Sith-Imperial agents of some sort. "What are you still looking at, soldiers? Get the damn fool out of there already."
Objective Three: Wipe out Vermin in Vetus' Fortress | Defeat the Enraged Augmented Subteroth Location: Inner Courtyard -> Fortress Entrance | The Hollow Tower | Slay the enraged Subteroth
Tags: [member="Arken Lussk"] | [member="Darth Voracitos"] | Objective 3 Peeps
The Matador watched as the creatures rage began to slowly curb into extreme pain, missing a hand on one arm and a entire forearm on the other. The Subteroth staggered, fumbling backwards as it groaned loudly. The sound of the creature's pain bounced off of every surface, blanking out the hum of his saber, even the quaking thuds of its mammoth sized feet were entirely inaudible in the wake of its cries.
The Matador stopped for a moment, empowering himself with the force. Readying for a powerful strike as the creature let out a force enhanced scream once more, this time more powerful but he was ready for it unlike before. He stood, unphased as the creature turned to face him. Oribuir swung in his hands like a paperweight as he launched himself a few feet into the air, his blade slicing through the thick of the Subteroth's chest. The creature's muscles grew weak its body swerving in response to the cut across its chest. As the Matador landed, the creature fell on its knees. With no arms to steady it, the creatures body hunched. It's head arched against the fat of his neck as it snarled at the Matador.
The Matador looked behind himself, noticing how the creature's rage had been subdued. He took a step back, seeing the massive doors in front of him. He had a basic understanding of the effects of telepathy on the animalistic mind. He had used it previously to intimidate prey, perhaps he could apply it here to infuriate the sith spawn. He outstretched a hand, his metal chin pressing against the crimson plate that surrounded his neck as his eyes closed for a moment, focusing on the task at hand. He tapped into the creatures mind, feeling the tendrils of ancient darkness deep within the creatures mind.
Its natural bestial nature twisted by an endless well of rage.
The Matador focused on that, rage. Senseless rage, no matter how hungry or depraved the creature was, it felt only rage. He thought for a moment, pondering on how powerful the creature might've been had it been properly fed. Even so every creature here's strength derided from a dark finite well of power that consumed Vitus' fort.
The creature growled, roaring weekly as it thrust its body forward in a last ditch effort to fight the Matador. He rolled to the side, dodging as the creature threw its weight into the massive doors. The doors moved, the leftmost door slid open whilst the right remained still. Light shun into the compound now. The Matador took a moment to adjust, before jumping with a force augmented leap on top of the fallen creature. The Matador landed with a crunch as Oribuir entered the skull of the creature. The troopers that had waited outside, with a look of shock appearing on the Officer's face. "You may secure the main entry of the compound Officer. Alert Darth Voracitos that he may enter the fortress. The foremost entrance to the initial tower has been secured."
High above Oricon, communicating with the Dark Lord.
Instead of blaring over the nearly empty bridge as the AI had hoped, the AI known as Cybele caught the communications and mulled them over before bringing her own voice over the intercom. Instead of Aquila, her voice rang over the speakers as it normally had, the ever faintest concern littering her voice as she repeated what was said back to The Slave;
“A former Dominion World?”, he said with a suddenly furrowed brow.
It wasn’t uncommon knowledge The Slave was not only a renowned terrorist for the now extinct Empire, and even one of the primary reasons they were far too weak to defend themselves against The Sith prior. He had stolen much of their federal income while being their High Chancellor, even let the pseudonym of ‘Paxton Bon’ cause a temporary civil war and massive Primeval backed terrorist attack on their capital; leave alone his extensive history as their public enemy.
Just what did The Dark Lord truly inquire about his presence?
The Slave glanced to the speakers above him, as though they were Cybele herself, and responded accordingly.
“Bring him up on the projector.”, he said with a passive toss of his hand.
As the hologram appeared, imposing figure and all, The Slave offered a courtesy smile and spoke frankly, almost devoid of the professionalism Carnifex was likely used to.
“Darth Carnifex was it? A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Pray tell, what do I owe the pleasure today?”
Objective: Her own
Location: Dread Palace
Post: 3
Nearby: [member="Kilrys Serccci"]
The hopes Jairdain had were dashed away when the man started to follow her for sure. It also seemed that going invisible didn't slow him down. It was as if he could see through it and followed on her every move.
Son of a bith.
He moved fast to attack her, oddly he didn't use any weapons and came after her with his hands. As he moved in, she sensed he was weak. Either there was something wrong with him or he wasn't trained yet in the Force. Maybe both, whichever it didn't matter at the moment. What she needed to do was figure a way out of this conflict and back to her purpose here.
Her barrier held off his attack and she used the Force to attempt to push him away. Reinforcing that barrier, she pulled out her new lightsaber. Igniting the magenta blade, it reflected off the slimy walls of the Temple. If he moved in close again, he would need to get through her defense.
Objective Three: Feast upon the Beast Location: Darth Vitium's Fortress - Court Yard Tags: [member="The Matador"]
Voracitos eyed the Fortress with suspicion, sensing the wellspring of danger deep within, swirling around a character of well defined violence. The Imperial military personnel who followed them scoured the building, helpless if not for their master. The dark side permeated the building as his Vassals had told him, who were silent as they led him to the very same gates the Matador had cracked the door open. The Dark Lord frowned. I am not going to fit through there...
It was not often that his size came up as a particular challenge to him, but not only was the force his whim, but the will of his Vassals was his as well, as was the will of the Starved Subjects, all of which shared in his power and glory. Thus, their Lord commanded the door which led deeper into the gold and black fortress, be removed. Voracitos raised a hand to the door, and almost without them thinking about it, the Vassals raised their hands, prompting every starved subject to raise all theirs hands as well. Not all were force sensitive, but all were susceptible to his will and power in the force. Feeling their life force's feeding into him, and the souls which he brokered from the Netherworld flowing through them all, a great darkened hand appearing from a dimension unseen tore through reality, clasped the door, crushing it, and discarded it to the side. Their was no visible association with the hand, but nonetheless it existed, and Voracitos could see it what others could not. His hand lazily fell, and the Vassals followed suit with more strain.
The Starved Subjects did not fair so well, many collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, but even as they did they were beckoned forward, as their unkind masters did not wait for the recovery of their strength, marching into the Fortress unperturbed by the corpses of beasts slain by the Matador. It was good that the Imperials had arrived before the Coven, Voracitos did not appreciate straining any more than necessary. He only hoped the individuals involved in this little expedition his Coven had stirred, would not confuse the artifact he sought into someone else's hands, the consequences of which could be... dire, for whoever meddles in Coven affairs. The artifact of this Fortress, if such existed, was his.
A Hungered Vassal which had received the communication from the "advance party", radioed back:
"Lord Voracitos of the Coven of Gluttony has entered the Court Yard, he praises your work. Proceed." The Hungered Vassal looks hesitantly to his master to gauge his emotions... except he finds little of anything, for the Dark Lord seems to be directly inspecting the corpses. After a long moments observation, suddenly the Dark Lords mouth opens, and red strands seem to build themselves in the air, emanating from the alchemical corpses, taking with them bits of whatever remained of its living essence. The Lord of Gluttony fed not only upon the living, or the incorporeal, but on the physical dead as well. Wherever the effects of the force existed, the Lord of Gluttony witnessed it as power... power which could be absorbed, and eaten.
It did not take long for the corpse to succumb to his Gluttony, turning to dust that which did not feed their master, leaving only an ashy residue on the ground where the heap of dead creatures had been, as the Dark Lord moved on past the Courtyard.
Objective Four: Yet Another Fortress Location:Oricon Fortress Tags: Empty
The fortress sat on the crown of a mountain that spewing forth molten lava from the structures base. Oh yes, this was classic hallmark Sith architecture. Who else build their bases or homes over an active volcano. Now while it would be nice to appreciate the work that went in to this marvel, we were on the clock. I ordered the pilot to circle around and run some generalized scans. On the reverse side from my initial view a hanger bay build into the side of the cliff face gave me the impression this wasn't one of the ancient structures of Oricon. Not that I was any authority on the matter. Now the scans had been completed. The pilot told me a signal was broadcasting and asking for access codes. For the hanger no doubt. Since they didn't possess the code though they were now going to have to find an alternative way in. As the ship kept circling I picked out what was probably the best option.
"See that walkway, or bridge to that tower there. Think you can get is between those pillars to drop us off?"
"We can try sir. If not you can repel down."
Getting closer, slowly now. We were indeed to large to fit between our LZ's obstructions. So much for stepping off. The pilot suggested repelling down. If that was the only option then so be it. The pilot was told to put us in position and I stepped back to the passenger area to inform the Sargent and his men. In doing so I also ran through my plan of operation for taking the fortress, the initial stages anyways. Counting on no resistance we were to get inside and find our way down to the hanger bay and get it open. Accomplishing that our gunship could land giving us an escape route. I always advise having one, or several, ready in case anything should happen. Repelling went smoothly and my hat stayed firmly where it should be in the engine wash. Our boots firmly on the bridge the gunship pulled away and would stand guard for us for the interm. I ordered us forward to the door of the keep. One of the men in the squad with training in this sort of work got to getting the door open. One open keypad panel and some cross wiring our way in was open to us. The unlit hallway pulling us in to the unknown of this Sith fortress.
