Junction The Sundering Dawn | Act II: Galaxy in Crisis (Chapter 2 | Crimson Wake)

[Darth Empyrean]

Objective II | Crimson Wake
Odacer‑Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf

Hurricane‑force snow peeled layers of paint from the shuttle’s heat‑tiles before landing struts found purchase on a makeshift repulsor pad of glowing orange ferrocrete. Seconds after touchdown the blizzard swallowed the sky again, casting the expedition party into a grainy tunnel of white where vibro‑compass needles spun uselessly. Flood‑lights stabbed outward and revealed row upon row of obsidian sarcophagi half‑entombed in the ice—carbonite graves resonating with a subsonic hum that chattered across helmet comms. Somewhere beneath, undead silhouettes scraped at transparent frost, locked forever in a twitching salute.

Forward scouts unpacked atmosphere tents that snapped rigid in cutters’ arcs of blue plasma. Inside, holotables flickered alive with the triangle‑and‑line glyph, overlaid on a subterranean schematic showing Vault A‑9 three kilometers southwest and ninety meters down. The path was a gauntlet of fissured crevasses and rogue carbonite geysers capable of flash‑freezing a sentient in seconds. Navigators passed around echo‑locators tuned to the backward pulse—thump‑thump… thump‑thump…—that every dreamer had felt. The beat now pulsed through the ice like a hidden sub‑ocean tide, guiding and mocking at once.

Breakthrough crews advanced with mag‑torches, seismic hammers, or ritual censer‑flames—each faction choosing its method. As the first blast door emerged from the glacier’s clutch, Sith acolytes began carving runes of binding while Jedi healers prepared bacta for frostbite triage. Mandalorian shock‑troops laid breaching charges, and corporate salvage drones snaked cables toward the vault’s data port, hoping to skim profits before history sealed them in footnotes. Beyond the reinforced iris lay midichlorian‑rich stasis chambers and the rumored Crimson Cauterizer—a living lattice that could stitch reality or rip it wider. The ice moaned overhead like a warning. One heartbeat, backward, then another. The door groaned, the wind screamed, and the expedition pushed into the dark, each footstep crunching on snow that had never known the warmth of a living sun.

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin Odrin Rath Commodore Helix The King in Red | OPEN | //:
//: Odacer‑Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf//:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: IQA-11 , LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:
//: Odacer‑Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf//:
//: Objective II | Crimson Wake//:​

A glacier waste land, no signs of life. The ground was riddled with ice and snow. Gusts of chilling wind uncovered parts of frozen bodies peeking through the snowy ground. As the snow storm rages on howling, thick sheets of snow pushed sideways. The whole planet was engulfed in white and death.

Laying in the snow with a snow covered lightly tan cloak blending in with the surroundings, CT-312 was inspecting the landing site. Waiting. Surprised with the recent events and assignments. Not knowing what the Game Master was up to now. Being given two different tasks for this mission. Retrieve whatever artifact or items that was down here and evaluate the new batch of Troopers. Déjà vu, it felt like. She recalled her time back in the Star Destroyer's detention cell block.

—

A metal tray of food was delivered to CT-312 as she laid in the uncomfortable short bed. Thinking about all the times she’s been sent to ‘reflect’. Looking at the tray it was the basic food groups: protein, veggies, and carbs. How mundane. Slowly eating the tasteless food, CT-312 froze in place. Images of blinding snow and frosted planes, bodies standing like statues as if they were guarding something. Suddenly a crimson fissure erupted, ripping the glacier in half. The confused Scout Trooper could hear her own heartbeat as these images continued to flash in her eyes and mind. There was a stone archway that turned into spiral staircases going into the darkness. Something was moving down there.

CLANK

The sound of her fork dropping to the ground brought CT-312 to the present. Blinking. Not knowing what to make of what just happened. ‘Was the food bad?’ , grabbing the fork and placing it on the unfinished eaten tray. Setting it aside. Whatever was in the food, clearly was a hallucinogen. What was the Game Master up to?

Pneumatic door to her cell block opened suddenly. It was time.

—

The sound of multiple assault gun dropships landing caught CT-312’s attention. Raising her sniper rifle she waited. Recalling the Game Master’s words. “You’ve been assigned an additional task to the mission. Evaluate and eliminate any problematic recruits in this new batch. Just how you went through the trials, now it’s their turn. Don’t interfere with nature’s course. Oh, You and the Troopers will have some other company. Try not to embarrass yourself!” The bay’s of each drop ship opened, lowering their ramps. Squads of Troopers exited out, not knowing what to expect. As CT-312 stood up, snow fell off the cloak, crunching could be heard as her boots stepped in the snow and god knows what else as she walked over. Occasionally the cold bypassed the cloak, piercing through her armor. Sending chills to her bones. ‘Evaluate and eliminate’ words echoing in her mind. If they were problematic to the mission, that’s easier said than done.

As the majority of ships left, the new batch of Troopers were talking amongst themselves. Confused why they were sent to this frozen place. CT-312, blended in with the batch. Keeping a bit of a distance away from the main group of Troopers. Observing. The last ship finally departed and the Troopers that were left were familiars. They walked over towards the cloaked Scout Trooper. Slow panic, a couple of screams, and yelling could be heard as the new batch began to realize the ground they were standing on may not be entirely ground, but corpses.

“Of course we’re cursed with these frigid missions. You’d think they’d send us somewhere warm by now!”, TK-3232 the Flame Trooper spoke loudly.

“Careful what you wish for, before you know it they’ll send us back into the dessert ahaha.” the Imperial Marine, TK-2142 chuckled.

“312” a simple deep loud tone boomed through the Shield Trooper, MB-1782 who towered over CT-312.

Nodding back at the three, not realizing she had a small smile appear on her face underneath her helmet. It was always good to see a familiar face or Trooper. Especially in this desolate frigid planet. CT-312 wondered if they were given the same mission as well. Maybe the Game Master chose to send some insurance along with the new batch. Making sure the mission succeeded even if the new batch failed.

“Good to see you all are alive.” the cloaked Camo Scout Trooper expressed.
“Been a while since Woostri eh?” , nodding back.
“Woostri? Try Hoth. Right MB-1782, that ice cube of a planet!”, the Flame Trooper shouted
“That.” MB-1782 pointed at the spire reaching high above the blizzard swirling around them.

“Our mission objective. Let’s get to it” CT-312 simply responded. Unexpectedly, the three saluted and went to a new batch of Troopers. Herding them to the spire. As they near it, it became apparent that there were graves surrounding it. Giving off the impression that the dead were guarding this place from intruders. She realized, the air here was heavy and thick. Just like the empty facility that was filled with horrors on Hoth. Remembering the words of Commodore Helix during that mission. The Scout Trooper relayed in her private comms amongst the three, “Ignore any visual and auditory hallucination. Let the new batch figure things out themselves”.

"Seeing and hearing random stuff? Where did they send you guys?"
"Trust me. You don't want to know"

CT-312 reminded them of their first mission. What the Game Master said to all of them as they dropped drop pods on fellow Troopers, "Expect the unexpected."

Doors groaned as they opened. The wind screamed, couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside the tomb spire or if it was outside. The new Troopers stepped in first, all jittery and scared. CT-312 would let nature run its course. Watching from behind as caboose. The other three slowed their paces, waiting on her lead. “I was told we’ll be expecting company.” Waiting and checking to see if any others will be joining in before the decent to the unknown darkness.

“Sith Lords most likely. Haven’t had the pleasure of running into one yet”
“How can you tell?” questioned the Flame Trooper.
“If they don’t look like us. Then they’re a Sith Lord.”
“Deductive reasoning. I like it”
"Just don't get in their way"

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Crimson //:
//: Madelyn Lowe //:
//: Attire //:

A Few Days Prior​

Allyson woke to another nightmare. They weren't the usual kind—faces of people she'd betrayed or watched die. No, these were different.

Sometimes, they were about Corellia, sometimes about her sister being alive in the galaxy. This particular dream had haunted her in fragments over the last few days. Allyson sat up, struggling to catch her breath. Resting a hand on her chest, she could still feel the lingering cold from the dream.

Allyson realized she didn't recognize the room as her eyes began to wake up. Her eyes darted around it until she recognized it as her own, though it didn't feel like home. It was rare for her to be here in her own bed. Something felt off.

The Corellian soon relaxed as her heart finally settled into its usual rhythm, and her breathing steadied. Beside her, a frustrated whine was muffled into the pillow. She wasn't alone. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a certain Minister, clearly unhappy that she'd woken at this hour. Allyson tilted her head with a sigh. Hesitantly, she threaded her fingers gently through the soft mess of blonde hair beside her. "I'm sorry, it was another one…"

Her free hand rubbed the base of her neck, the glyph that had appeared the previous night burning yet oddly cold at times. "I think this is connected; it burns every time," she whispered, fingers lightly tracing what felt like a fresh branding. Whatever was happening was clearly more than just a 'bad dream.' "Yeah, I gotta figure this out…" She started to move but was interrupted. "Hmm?"

Madelyn had made an attempt. Her hand rested gently on the Corellian's forearm, offering a brief moment of understanding and comfort. Allyson paused and accepted the gesture for what it was until an annoyed huff signaled the moment had passed and it was time to try sleeping again.

---

Odacer-Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf
Still some ways away from the others​

The crunch of snow beneath her boots was a sound Allyson hadn't wanted to hear again anytime soon. Hoth felt far too recent for her liking. Her eyebrows rose slightly as she remembered the Commonwealth agent's offer. She could secure a full First Order uniform if she really wanted to. The amusing thought gave Allyson a sudden pep as they pressed onward.

Their objective was clear: find the gate she'd seen repeatedly in her dreams. Just thinking of it made the small brand on her neck burn, an undeniable indicator that everything was connected. But why was she receiving these visions? She was just some silly Corellian with a bow, and her role was minimal compared to figures like Empyrean, Taeli, or even Valery Noble. The more she thought about these dreams, the less sense they made.

The snowy terrain grew more predictable as they continued down their current path, each step fitting into prints seemingly made long ago. Instinct told Allyson they were on the right track, but something else warned her they weren't alone. She was starting to regret bringing the Minister along. Going on a suicidal mission herself was one thing, but risking someone she cared about was entirely another. Still, she knew better than anyone: once Madelyn Lowe decided, there was no change.

Madelyn had seemed unusually determined to accompany her. Allyson briefly wondered if that awkward moment of comfort she'd offered had contributed to her decision.

Pausing, Allyson remembered Madelyn couldn't use the Force to keep herself warm. It was a basic skill Jyoti had drilled into her relentlessly when she was younger. She stopped and turned back toward the blonde woman who had surprised her by insisting on joining her.

"You could've stayed on the ship," Allyson reminded the Varonati gently. "It's pretty cold here." Allyson paused and tilted her head. "I don't know how well you're managing in that survival gear." Allyson gave Madelyn a playful thumbs-up and then a thumbs-down, indicating that a gesture alone would suffice as an answer.

The chill ran deep, settling into Allyson's bones, but they had to push forward further. If she had correctly interpreted her dreams, they were close. Still, if they needed to make camp, she was prepared. Allyson waited until Madelyn caught up before leaning closer, offering warmth through the Force by extending her hand slightly.

Something had been nagging at her the entire trip. Finally, she asked the question she'd been holding back, "Why did you want to come?" as she asked, Allyson couldn't hide the small smile that appeared. Though the worry lingered, she was genuinely glad not to deal with this alone.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled, but—" She stopped, staying close, reaching out gently with the warmth of the tapas she'd summoned. Allyson hesitated, suddenly vulnerable. "Yeah, I was just surprised," she finished softly. Realizing she'd let her guard down, she quickly covered the moment with sarcasm. "We're pretty far from the jungle you're used to," she teased quietly.

Spoiler: Tags

CT-312 Odrin Rath Commodore Helix

 

[The King in Red]

The wind screamed.

But it wasn't just the gale anymore.

As the last of the new batch stepped into the spire's mouth—some with rifles shaking in their grips, others pale beneath their helmets—something shifted. Not in the storm, not in the snow… but in the air itself. A change in pressure. A subtle tug, like gravity itself leaning sideways.

CT-312 would feel it first. A ripple through the ice beneath her boots—no tremor, just a sensation, like standing atop a heartbeat. The spire was not dormant. It never had been.

Behind them, the whine of repulsorlifts did not fade with distance. A new ship descended. Not one of theirs.

It came down slow, silent, a sleek arrowhead of dark alloy untouched by frost. No insignia. No landing lights. Just the hiss of steam as its belly opened to the white.

From it emerged a figure. Robes that bled into the snow until they caught the dim red gleam of a plasma torch igniting from their belt—not drawn, but alive. The figure didn't move with the rigid posture of a soldier. They drifted forward like a shadow cast before the flame. No visible breath escaped the mask they wore. No name was spoken.

The veterans would know. You felt a Sith Lord before you saw one. And this one had eyes you could not see—but still felt on your skin, like coals pressed to flesh.

The figure halted just before the entrance of the spire. One hand touched the frozen wall. Ice crackled, pulled back like an obedient curtain. The door was wider now.

CT-312's comm sparked with static before clearing. A voice—smooth, modulated, and without haste—slid through:

"You may proceed, Commander. I will walk among your dead… and see which still have use."

Then silence. The figure waited, letting the blizzard cloak them once again. Whether they were to follow behind or move ahead was left unsaid.

Just a presence. Like a blade left half-drawn. Waiting for someone else to decide if it would be used.

CT-312

 

[Mordecai Zambrano]

CT-312 | The King in Red​

This was awful.

Frigid winds that cut though zeyd-cloth, a sky blackened by hellish clouds, and an ethereal, murky pull that called out to Mordecai like summons to a grim feast. He would've been well justified to complain about such an assignment, but frustration simply welled within the unfortunate 'volunteer.' Too frozen for his cold-blooded companion and a task too complex to bring the full weight of legions to bear.

Each ice-crunching footstep was enough to make wearied joints creak. A hike in such a desolate tundra was hardly the fashionable route to the scene but bereft of all the risks. The stealth lander that had deposited Mordecai was surely long gone now, leaving the thickly cloaked Sith Lord to journey through knee-high snow alone.

Mordecai recalled the visions as he marched on, clutching robes tighter as moisture in his beard froze solid. Sights of crimson fissures erupting along the earth, cadavers clad in ancient battle armor, and a grave sense of unease. It would've been one thing had the nightmare been his alone - but it wasn't. Close confidants and Praetorians mentioned seeing things in their slumber, and even Carly remarked about frozen over laboratories and skeletal figures.

A threat to the Empire was a threat to his family, his way of life. That would not do.

The spire itself eventually came into view, along with a stretch of sparse silhouettes that rimed its entrance. Despite the burn of muscles in his thighs, Mordecai carried forth, warmed only by a pumping heart and the fury of a soul. The Sith Lord closed the distance with surprising haste, exhaling plumes of breath that distorted the snow whipping through the air.

A motley of troopers was easily recognizable, and with them came a strange sense of comfort. Soldiers and warriors - Mordecai was fond of them, easy to understand and get along with.

The other, however, made Mordecai frown deeply. A robed figure that caused his nostrils to flare in disgust, almost recoiling at the stench of sin. An unknown. A figure he was not familiar with, and no name that could be called to his tongue. Distrust bled into his veins; brows furrowed.

Mordecai turned to the troopers instead. "Good to see you." A snow-flecked head cocked towards the entrance. "Let's get this over with."

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Crimson Wake,
With Allyson Locke
Wearing
​

The path ahead was barely visible through the white fog of ice crystals which concealed the treacherous frozen landscape around her, but Madelyn had no need to navigate. She followed the dark figure of Allyson closely, stepping exactly where the agent did, not daring to take her eyes off her back lest she slip and get left behind, or stumble off the path and into a crevasse. It was an irrational fear, but the merciless cold, the roar of the wind and the dull sameness of the landscape stoked her anxiety fiercely. She just had to stay with Allyson, she told herself. Just stay with Allyson.

Even without the fear of an untimely death, the march was a miserable one. She had dressed in layers of white and cream gear. Thermals and gloves and jackets and furs, so covered up that she more resembled an ambling alien than the lithe Minister of Order hidden beneath. All the clothing felt suffocating, especially the facemask, but she tolerated it, because the alternative was to freeze to death. What an awful place.

Madelyn held her commlink to her face, muffled words struggling to be heard above the wind.

"I cannot believe this was my idea." said Madelyn.

Trudging through the snow to catch up to Allyson, Madelyn took the Corellian's offered hands, enjoying the sensation of warmth that flowed through her. Madelyn thought about the poor decision-making that had brought her here. The moment of weakness in Allyson's apartment, awkwardly placing her arm around her, and the hushed urgent conversation that had followed. It was the straw that broke the bantha's back, the revelation about her Allyson's visions, their familiar echoes in her own nightmares, but with a personal twist for Allyson. And then there was the runic symbol on her lover's neck. That had caused concern to twist in her stomach. So it was that when the call came out across the Empire to investigate the unraveling of the Galaxy's fabric, Madelyn put her hand up to accompany her agent.

"I don't know how well you're managing in that survival gear."

"What do you mean? I'm a natural." said Madelyn. She tried to give Allyson a thumbs up, but it was barely recognisable beneath her gloves and mittens. "Yeah okay it sucks."

It was a strange position to find herself in, being the follower, rather than the leader. Already it had taken a great deal of swallowing of her pride to make it this far. Allyson seemed to be relishing the power, though beneath her teasing Madelyn could tell she was grateful to have her there. Though now that her teeth were chattering and the cold had seeped through all her furry layers into her bones, Madelyn couldn't really say the same.

But she'd do it for her. Why? She wasn't certain. It couldn't be explained by her just finding Allyson an amusement, not anymore. Instead, Madelyn just pushed the uncomfortable thought aside. She was there. Allyson was glad. Good enough.

"Why did you want to come?"

"It seemed important." Madelyn said cryptically. Of course she meant that it was important to Allyson, but then she added. "For the Empire's security." Nice save, Madelyn thought to herself, shaking her head. She was really off her game today.

"We're pretty far from the jungle you're used to,"

"I'd give just about anything to be having a drink at home right now." Madelyn agreed. "With you." she added, after a moment, her facemask thankfully hiding her expression. "We have far to go? I'm sick of walking." she complained. She should have been on Karath Station, representing her Empire. Instead, she was here, representing her not-girlfriend. When had she become so weak-willed? No matter, she was here now, she'd do her part.

 

[Odrin Rath]

CHAPTER II: CRIMSON WAKE

Equipment: Lightsaber & Armor
Assets: Starship
Tags: CT-312 Mordecai Zambrano The King in Red

The vision had been chilling. Not particularly because of its contents but because it was out of his control. He could feel how unnatural its manifestation was. Felt how wrong its delivery had been. It made his skin crawl and left him with unanswered questions. Even now, the faint mark on his hand, beneath his armored glove, refused to dissipate.

The snow and wind mixed together to throw snowflakes into his beard and onto his protective crimson cloak as Odrin's towering frame exited the shuttle. His heavy, armored boots clanking down the metal ramp before mushing into the snow. A blank white canvas filled with ruins and those long dead. The planet was eerie, even for Sith standards. Odrin caught himself as he almost tripped in the snow, a lone stone hidden beneath.

Fucking Hoth all over again.

Odrin adjusted the white fur wampa skin across his shoulders, a prize earned from that snowy world. The only trophy he was able to claim. He did not know if he was lucky in that regard or not, having heard what went down on other objectives.

Either way, Odrin stalked the deep snow as he approached the entrance to whatever Force forsaken building they were told to crawl through this time. The aura of nearby sentients tugged on his senses before he spotted them. One...made his skin crawl. Just like the vision of blood he experienced some nights ago. Odrin avoided it, sweeping around it as if it held some new alien pox he did not wish to contract.

Then he locked eyes onto a somewhat familiar sight, a fellow Epicanthix of no doubt Kainite loyalties. Now that, he could identify with. A small smile appearing on his face as he approached the man standing before a group of Troopers. Another group he could identify with having been a soldier himself before being trained Sith. Hell, he'd argue he preferred Legionnaires over Sith. Most of his 'fellow' Sith were too caught up in their power plays and political ambitions to appease Odrin's vision for the Empire.

Always the loyal soldier first, eh Od?

Pushing that thought out of his mind, Odrin approached the fellow Sith and the gathering squad of Troopers as he studied their surroundings and planned a way forward with tactical acuity. He towered above these Troopers but held no ill will nor did he feel himself superior to them. Even though he was. He quickly identified the trooper standing out, wearing a completely different shade of camo than to the white ball they found themselves on.

Odrin raised a brow in amused wonderment but said nothing as he silently integrated himself.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Crimson //:
//: Madelyn Lowe //:
//: Attire //:

Like Madelyn, Allyson did her best to deny any affection toward the Minister. They were coworkers, professionals who occasionally met after hours to discuss matters vital to the Empire. Sometimes, these meetings stretched long into the evening, but only when absolutely necessary—or so they convinced themselves. Allyson noted the subtle emphasis Madelyn placed on the Empire as the reason for her presence. The Corellian's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile, careful not to fully reveal just how perceptive she truly was.

"Of course, the Empire is your highest priority, Minister Lowe," Allyson quipped gently, interrupting Madelyn before she could finish. She nodded thoughtfully at the suggestion of drinks someplace warmer, but it was the quiet addition—with you—that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Allyson paused, feeling the warmth rising to her face despite the cold. Clearing her throat, she struggled for a witty reply, wanting to deflect the sudden embarrassment.

Thankfully, Madelyn's complaints grounded her again. "I'm honestly not sure," Allyson admitted, returning a bashful smile of her own. She was just as uncertain as Madelyn. "But it feels close. The stupid thing on my neck is starting to burn again, and with every step, it gets worse." She shrugged lightly. "Part of me is grateful it's cold—at least my neck isn't literally on fire."

Allyson carefully glanced over her shoulder, confirming they were still alone amidst the stark whiteness. She slowly unzipped the first few layers of Madelyn's cocoon-like jackets with care. "Trust me," she whispered, close enough that Madelyn would easily hear her. Allyson carefully positioned herself to block the gusts that would inevitably rush in as she opened the layers of clothing.

Slowly, she slipped her arms around Madelyn's waist, pulling her into an embrace. Allyson radiated warmth generated by the Force, becoming a furnace against the brutality of the cold. They shared enough heat to ease the chill, if only for a moment.

"Let's just stay here a second so we can let your feet rest, then get going, okay?" Allyson whispered softly as she rested her head beneath Madelyn's chin, enjoying this more than she should.

While they stood close and wrapped together, Allyson allowed her eyes to wander cautiously. She was mindful not to let her imagination drift to places that would surely earn her a playful reprimand from the blonde. Then, a shadow caught her attention through the snow. It was a frozen hand barely visible through the ice. Allyson's brow furrowed slightly as she realized more corpses were emerging, disturbed by the wind.

Swiftly, she pulled away, immediately zipping Madelyn's layers tight, sealing the warmth she'd shared safely inside.

"We need to go now," Allyson said firmly.

"Don't look down, don't look up; just keep your eyes fixed on the back of my head." The Corellian's hand found Madelyn's quickly. Allyson focused on what was ahead, guided only by the searing sensation at her neck. She was determined not to linger on the frozen remains around them.

"Maddie, just—" Her voice faltered but soon steadied herself, with reassurance Allyson hoped sounded stronger than she felt.

"Just promise me you'll listen to whatever I say, no matter what we face, alright?" she said, looking briefly over her shoulder; Allyson's gaze softened with unmistakable tenderness.

"I won't let anything happen to you, I promise."

Spoiler: Tags

CT-312 Mordecai Zambrano Odrin Rath The King in Red

 

[CT-312]

//: Mordecai Zambrano Odrin Rath The King in Red | OPEN | //:
//: Odacer‑Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf//:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: IQA-11 , LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:
//: Odacer‑Faustin, Silent Meridian Polar Shelf//:
//: Objective II | Crimson Wake//:​

An invisible tug pulled CT-312’s attention back to the icy planes from the stone entrance of the spire. As quickly the ship came, it left. Only a single figure was left behind. The snow and ice did not hinder their movement, it was effortless as they made their way to the entrance of the spire. In front of CT-312, this Sith Lord wore long robes that covered their whole figure and a mask, concealing their identity. Watching as one hand reached out, touching the half open frozen door, easily opening it fully. Sounds of ice cracking and stone sliding echoed into the dark spiraling staircase. Despite not looking towards her direction, CT-312 could feel eyes watching her every movement.

"You may proceed, Commander. I will walk among your dead… and see which still have use."

‘Commander?’, looking at the three veteran Troopers with her by the door. They all nodded towards her. Shrugging, the Scout Trooper was about to step in. Stopping. A small pull caught CT-312’s attention. Quickly turning her visor to the outside again, two more figures appeared by the entrance. Both standing taller than her 5’5 self. ‘More Sith Lords’. A 6‘8 armored hulking frame, draped with white fur wampa skin across his massive shoulders. The Lord didn’t need to speak, the silence spoke volumes of the authority he commanded. Next to him stood a 6’3 middle-aged solid framed Lord, slightly smaller compared to the sturdy giant.

"Good to see you." A snow-flecked head cocked towards the entrance. "Let's get this over with."

CT-312 caught MB-1782, TK-3232, and TK-2124 snapping at attention. Giving an imperial salute to the Sith Lords that stood in front, in unison saying “My Lords.”. Mimicking the Troopers actions, bowing her head deeply. “My Lords.”, Relaying the status of the Troopers. “CT-312 reporting for duty.” raising her head up, “We currently have a batch of Troopers insi-”

Some panic screams could be heard echoing up from darkness engulfed spiraling stone staircase. Multiple footsteps advancing towards CT-312 and the other Troopers. Emerging from the void were six recruits screaming and yelling. Making a break for the entrance, trying to escape into the frozen wasteland. MB-1782 shield bashed one of the running recruits, grabbing the other by the neck. The Flame and Marine Trooper grabbed one each, restraining them. One of the remaining two recruits ran past CT-312. Reaching at the back of her belt, pulling out a vibroblade knife. With a flick of her wrist the blade shot forward, whistling through the air before burying itself into the back of the running Trooper. Watching the recruit collapse to the ground, she casually walked up to the struggling body. The last remaining escaping recruit passed by her, running further into the snowy planes. Gripping the knife embedded in the back, twisting it before pulling. The recruit’s body jerked one final time, becoming lifeless. Wiping the blood off the knife and storing it away, CT-312 made her way back to the Sith Lords and Troopers. Irritated. The Game Master’s second objective echoed in her mind. ‘Evaluate, eliminate, and don’t embarrass yourself’. These new mix matched recruits were soft. An embarrassment.

“Take these four outside”, spoken calmly yet sharply with each word foreshadowing what’s to come.

“What about that one?”, the veteran Troopers dragged out the AWOL recruits back in a snowy storm. Lining them up, holding them at gunpoint.

CT-312 lifted her IQA-11 sniper rifle. Taking aim at the retreating figure. Exhaling, pulling the trigger. A single shot was heard. Echoing. The running recruit’s body dropped dead into the snow. Putting away the rifle. “What one.” stating with a deadpan tone. Looking at the lined up AWOL recruits, one of them snapped, shouting “We aren't equipped for this! There's something in there!”

“Yes. The mission.”, turning her back on the frightened recruits who thought running away would be the better option. Subtly shaking her head, ‘A disgrace.’

“Cowards.”, said in disgust by the Shield Trooper.
“I can light up some courage real quick” , The Flame Trooper eagerly commented.
“I’ll handle it. You can go on ahead.”, stating firmly from the Marine Trooper.

Tapping on TK-2142’s shoulder. The Marine Trooper nodded back. Ready to take aim. Waiting for the Sith Lords and the remaining Troopers to leave the execution site. Some of the Troopers shouted, begging for the Sith Lords to be given second chances or to be freed. Only to be met with the butt of the rifle from TK-2142. Silencing them.

“My apologies, my Lords. We’re currently going through a reconstruction program for some of the misfit Troopers.” The four bowed their heads in apology. Hopefully this unsightly sight wouldn't invoke the wrath of these three Sith Lords upon the whole group of Troopers. Better to quickly get on with the mission. “As I was saying before. There are other Troopers ahead waiting.” Swiftly, CT-312 took point. Entering the pitch darkness. Following the stone spiral staircase. While taking ascent, there were silhouettes casted on the walls. Giving the empty spire some kind of presence of its once inhabitants. Finally reaching a room with the remaining recruits. The numbers were lower. It seems a handful decided to explore other areas. The ones remaining in the room, whispered amongst themselves as to why they were in an oversized graveyard on this frozen planet of death.

Analyzing the room, the holotables suddenly flickered alive. Catching CT-312’s attention. All the Troopers in the room stared at what was being shown. A Triangle-and-line glyph appeared, overlapping a subterranean schematic. “Vault A-9” flashing. Studying where this vault’s direct location was at. A heated pulsing sensation ebbed at her right temple. Shutting her eye briefly, as if it’ll ease the pain. ‘Freaken stress headache.’ , she grumbled. Vexed at the entirety of the situation. Taking a deep breathe, CT-312 cautiously approached the Sith Lords. Knowing full well, these Lords could kill all of them with a single flick of the wrist. "My Lords. Has Command provided a designation profile for Vault A-9? Any idea what we may be doing here or specifically looking for?"

Radio communications went off. It was the public frequency. Screaming could be heard. The recruits that went off to explore on their own relaying what may seem to be their final moments.

BBbbzzz....."HELP! We're stuck-".…bzzz....."I repeat-"...Bbbzzz...."Fissures, random geysers-"...bbbzzztt... "Carbonite-"....ztttt...."HEL-"

Spoiler: title

Allyson Locke Madelyn Lowe

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Crimson Wake,
With Allyson Locke ,
Allies: CT-312 | Mordecai Zambrano | Odrin Rath | The King in Red ,
Wearing
​

Allyson slowed to a stop as the path levelled out to a field of scattered rocks, slightly more sheltered from the snowstorm than the high path they had come from, and Madelyn huffed irritably.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Madelyn.

Madelyn wriggled slightly when Madelyn first grabbed her, reluctant to be waylaid after Allyson had said they were close, and she was especially resistant after Allyson began unclasping layers of her snow protection, letting the awful frigid air get that much closer to her skin. But Allyson had said to trust her, so Madelyn did not push her aside. She was glad she didn't, for the moment Allyson tucked her strong body against Madelyn's, she felt warmth coursing through her, no doubt conjured by Allyson through her mastery of the Force. Impressive.

Madelyn laid her head on the Corellian's. She was like her own personal radiator, pleasant but never too hot, warming Madelyn to her core. Despite the grim setting, Madelyn felt herself beginning to relax in her arms. They were alone on the trail, the rest of their party already up ahead. Why not allow a moment of comfort, away from prying eyes? She even closed her eyes, though she resisted the urge to plant a little kiss on Allyson's forehead, though she was sure at this moment her loyal agent wouldn't resist it. The ridiculousness of that thought pushed her back into the reality of the present moment, standing wrapped around her inferior in a snowstorm. Madelyn had only just begun to unwind her arms from around Allyson when she felt Allyson suddenly retreated. Madelyn frowned, had she read her hesitation that clearly? But no, Allyson's eyes were not trained on her. Instead, they darted around, and when she spoke her voice was frantic.

"We need to go now."

Madelyn's stomach dropped. Allyson had never used this tone with her before, and she found herself dutifully following her instructions, sliding into place behind her, eyes fixed on the bobbing brunette ponytail in front, listening to reassurances Allyson clearly didn't believe herself. Whatever endangered them out here was horrific. But Allyson was her lifeline, and in this part of the job she was far more experienced than Madelyn, so she would follow her instructions to the letter.

"I trust you." said Madelyn gently. "Just take us out of here, I'm right behind you."

Then, she almost stepped on a frozen hand, its stiff digits reaching towards the sky. She suppressed a yelp of surprise and broke her gaze from Allyson. She looked around carefully and finally noticing what Allyson had seen, that the rocks strewn about the snowfield around them were not rocks at all, but peeking limbs and grasping fingers, already struggling to free themselves from their icy tombs. Madelyn's skin crawled and her stomach churned. She was unable to hide the disgust on her face. Let the Sith stick to their own business next time, Madelyn. she thought to herself.

She had seen troopers disembarking the landing vessel. Misfits and runts all of them. But, right now they represented safety. If they could make it to the spire, then the troopers and their Sith masters could eliminate the fetid frozen bodies shambling after them, or at the very least, provide an ample distraction.

"Allyson." said Madelyn. "We should get to the others quickly, before this lot pick us off alone."

 

[Kalðr Ísbjørn]

---

Kalðr Ísbjørn had been raised on Hoth. Even without his sealed armor, this cold would have been nothing to him. In fact, the Mandalorian loved the cold and absolutely hated hot planets. Even his very armor radiated with frost to match the outside temperature. And it was all done with science and technology, not any of that damn sorcery. It's like being back home. Kestri was nice too. Nice and cold, though nowhere near this cold. And honestly, Mandalore was just too damn hot.

The trek to the looming vault was rather uneventful, which he found rather disappointing. He had passed a few frozen bodies, sure, but they were already dead and obviously couldn't fight. Not that he was here for a fight, but no Mandalorian would turn one down if it presented itself. He had also passed two women who seemed rather... preoccupied. He was sure they had not noticed him, as much as he blended in with the ice and snow. He still gave them a wide birth to avoid them. They certainly looked like they wanted some privacy.

As he approched the vault, he heard a radio over open lines.

BBbbzzz....."HELP! We're stuck-".…bzzz....."I repeat-"...Bbbzzz...."Fissures, random geysers-"...bbbzzztt... "Carbonite-"....ztttt...."HEL-"

The massive man grinned underneath his helmet. He laughed as he joked to himself, "Sounds like an ice party to attend!"

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor: Htagir'Jorir | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskar'gam w/ENCL-JR5 Striking Falcon Jetpack & PMP-7 "Icharus" Gravpack
Weapons: G'ahycaya | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Beskad - Ciryc'saca | Kalðr Ísbjørn's Slugthrower Revolver - Htagir'karyatr | "Ice Hammer" - Htagir'senaar Whistling Birds
KSTR-28 Foremund Sniper Rifle - KSTR-24 Dvalin Blaster Rifle - KSTR-26 Perudin Blast Cannon - ENCL-43 Kayaur Heavy Blaster Cannon
Items: AXC (x3) - CryoBan Grenade (x12) - Power Packs (x7) - Slugs (Grulyr'bedtr CryoSlugs: x312) - Ration Packs (x5 Days)​

---

TAGS: OPEN

 

[The King in Red]

The spire had no name in the records—just coordinates and a warning. Even that felt like a kindness in hindsight. Now, with the storm shrieking across the Silent Meridian Shelf, dozens of figures had braved the descent and found its breach. Not all entered together. Some came in staggered waves: soldiers from forgotten legions, agents haunted by visions, Sith Lords drawn by the pull of prophecy, and lovers whose warmth could not hold back the cold.

CT-312 stood as the axis around which the chaos briefly stabilized, her veterans fanning out with mechanical precision while raw recruits snapped under pressure. One ran. She made an example of him. Others cowered, begging the Sith Lords for mercy. They received none. And still the mission pulled onward, the glyph flashing across holotables and map-readouts like a pulse—Vault A-9. Down. Always down.

Allyson Locke and Madelyn Lowe arrived not far behind, worn by the trek but sharpened by shared purpose. The Corellian's glyph flared with every step, burning colder than the ice. Their breath fogged the visor glass. A frozen hand cracked through the snow beside them. They didn't linger. There was no safety out here, no promises. Just the wind, and its needling whispers: faster. deeper. now.

Mordecai Zambrano and Odrin Rath joined next, their steps carving authority through snowbanks and silence alike. The troopers straightened at their presence. Even the blizzard seemed to hesitate. Between them and the others, a strange figure had arrived first, black-robed and wordless, more shadow than shape. They had opened the vault with a single touch—and now waited within, a match poised just above kindling.

Inside, the structure pulsed with impossible architecture. Hallways curved where they should not. Reflections flickered one frame too late. The Crimson Vault was not merely a relic—it was an ecosystem. Carbonite graves lined its walls in serried rows, some twitching subtly, others empty altogether. And through the air, thick with frost and static, came that same beat all had dreamed: thump-thump… thump-thump…

The Vault is open now.

Factions may choose their path—by torchlight, by mag-hammer, by rune or rifle. Some may race for the schematic, the heart chamber where the Cauterizer waits. Others may divert, drawn toward flickers of Force echoes that ripple through side corridors. No matter your method, no matter your banner, the Vault watches. It remembers your steps. It knows your secrets.

One by one, the expedition presses forward into the dark. Past the murmuring sarcophagi. Past the shifting stairs. Into the deep thrum of a wound that is still bleeding—still open.

And somewhere far beneath, the Crimson Cauterizer begins to stir.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Crimson Vault //:
//: Madelyn Lowe //:
//: CT-312 //: Mordecai Zambrano //: Odrin Rath //: Kalðr Ísbjørn //:
//: Attire //:

Allyson hated that the few words that the woman spoke were enough to continue the previous blush. Silently, the Corellian scolded herself as they ran towards what felt like the right way. A man had passed them previously, and Allyson wondered if he had seen the corpses strewn in the snow. Looking back to say something to the Minister, Allyson saw the handful of shambling corpses wandering their way. They seemed to have been animated by something.

Without thinking twice, Allyson pulled Madelyn behind her and drew the bow from her back in the same fluid motion. Before drawing an arrow, the Corellian slid the eyepatch off her eye. There wasn't enough time to carefully place it in her pocket; the leather patch would be lost today. Three energy bolts appeared on the taut sharing as she drew it back. Three blinks, and she activated the targeting system of the eye, which hummed in sync with the bow.

The three arrows released as her gloved fingers let go of the string. The bolts split further, each driving into the skulls of the undead. Almost instantly, the small horde following them collapsed, and Allyson sighed with temporary relief. The weapon stowed back onto her back, and their eyes met briefly. It dawned on Allyson that Madelyn hadn't been privy to any of her acts as a Spy. They were words and stories, but seeing the Corellian perhaps made the danger she brought real.

"That should take care of that." Allyson smiled as she retook the woman's hand and led her toward the faint gunshots that soon rang out. Pausing, Allyson frowned; already, things were getting messy. Slowly, Allyson's footsteps disappeared as she guided Madelyn toward the noise.

As they rounded the ridge, the aftermath of the insubordinate troopers showed what had happened. Allyson continued to frown. Why were these troopers executed? Allyson reminded herself that this was the Empire. Looking at Madelyn, she figured the woman had seen stuff like this. However, she still took precautions and guided her through the carnage, hoping to shield her as much as possible.

"The gateway is there," Allyson's voice whispered, gritting through her teeth. The closer they drew to the gate, the more the pain in her neck grew. Allyson always moved first, holding on to Madelyn as she pulled her through. Looking back to the Minister, she held a finger to her lip, indicating they needed to be quiet. The echo of voices and footsteps lay ahead.

Inside, Allyson felt the temperature change. They were no longer in the frozen tundra, but she still paused for a moment as they climbed the steps towards the voices. "Are you okay?" she asked, mostly trying to ensure that Madelyn was alright, even though things had been messy getting here. She would wait for her answer, and the pair would slowly continue.

Each step of the run burned the woman's neck, but as she stepped towards the room where everyone had gathered, the vault made itself known. The thumping felt like the entire place was alive, breathing, and watching. Allyson stepped into the room and kept Madelyn behind her in case they were hostile.

"Hello," she greeted them as the vault opened up for them. "Allyson," she started and began to settle into the rear of the group. A hand motioned towards the bundled entity next to her: "This is Minister Lowe. We're both with the Empire—" The introductions were quick. Still, they were enough to hopefully get them latched onto the right faction's group.

Stars forbid she got stuck with Jedi.

"Guess it's time to figure things out?" Allyson joked as she pulled at the fabric around her neck. The brand was getting annoying. She motioned for Madelyn to follow, but to move in front of her. Keeping the woman in the middle of the group of Sith was safer than her wandering the back behind Allyson.

She was cautious. Allyson remembered the troopers at the gate; they wouldn't be afraid to turn on allies if something happened.