Dominion Vinum Sabbathi | The Scourging of Dathomir | NIO

[IMPCOM]

SHADOWS OF THE EMPIRE
A Second Hyperspace War Story
New Imperial Order vs The Brotherhood of The Maw​

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D A T H O M I R
868 ABY
VINUM SABBATHI

​

A world shrouded in darkness. Dathomir had long been a planet of mystery and lingering malfeasance for thousands of years. It has been no different in the 800s. In recent memory, it fell under the crown of crimson in the Sith Empire- a haven for covens of dark sided witches and Night Sisters to practice their wicked arts.

Several of the House Zambrano took particular interest in the world, with several small clashes of rivaling covens taking place on the world before eventually it was put to the torch. However, a deal took place between one of the many Dathomiri Witches and the Sith Emperor to seal its fate in the red realm, binding the two as one in a depraved union of darkness.

Thus, when the Iron Ring closed around it- the Iron Imperator took it upon his righteous duty to punish this world and purge the sickness that ails it.

D A T H O M I R
OBJECTIVE I | OPERATION BLACK SABBATH
FOCUS | ARMED FORCES, IMPERIAL KNIGHTS, SPECIAL OPERATIONS
ZONE OF OPERATION | NIGHTSISTER STRONGHOLD
OPPOSING | NIGHTSISTERS, NIGHTBROTHERS, DARKSIDERS, MAW
​

The horrors of the dark world of Dathomir had long been untamed. That was until this day. The New Imperial Order would bring the hand of righteousness unto Dathomir. After undergoing an intelligence gathering operation for several weeks on the surface of the dreaded feral world, the New Imperial Order identified several hubs of the Nightsister and Nightbrother clans, marking them for extermination and thus when the silhouettes of the heavy metal daggers that were the star destroyers filled the blood red skies of Dathomir, they immediately set about laying the seeds of destruction in the form of Stormtrooper units, Imperial Knight Crusaders and Special Operations units.

The reign of darkness over Dathomir would end on the Black Sabbath.

D A T H O M I R
OBJECTIVE II | INQUISITION
FOCUS | COMPNOR AGENTS, SPECTRES, IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
ZONE OF OPERATION | DATHOMIR SURFACE
INVESTIGATING | WITCHES OF DATHOMIR
​

As the Night Sisters were put to the sword across the wretched surface of this harsh world, still there came the question of the matter of the Witches of Dathomir. Many of them abhorred the dark practices taken up by the Night Sisters, making them a natural collaborator with the New Imperial Order...while others embraced them in secret. That was the task of this inquisition, a task force of COMPNOR agents, Imperial Spectres and Imperial Knights were dispatched to the world to conduct a series of investigations into the various Witch Covens and Clans strewn across Dathomir in the hopes of uncovering who and what was adherent to the Dark Side and who might be swayed to the New Imperial Order.

D A T H O M I R
OBJECTIVE III | OPERATION BLACK KNIGHT
FOCUS | IMPERIAL NAVY
ZONE OF OPERATION | DATHOMIR ORBIT
OPPOSING | SHADOW ACADEMY
​

Still in operation in orbit of Dathomir, the Shadow Academy has long served as a school of learning to many of the Galaxy's Sith and Dark Jedi. Protected by a small force of Sith Marauders, the Imperial Navy has been order to dispatch of them so that New Imperial special forces can board and seize control of the space station in order to seize any relics, artifacts and resources aboard. However, the Sith Imperial remnant vessels protecting the station are stalwart in number and tactics though not far from anything the New Imperial Navy has faced before.

B Y O O
OBJECTIVE IV​

Whatever gets you to post, chief.

​

 

[Lord Letifer]

LETIFER | NEW SITH ORDER
KILL Sith Remnants
​

12 Hours Ago..

His boot pressed down against the throat of the Dathomiri Nightbrother, slowly the pressure built upon itself as the warrior thrashed wildly for air as his trachea was crushed beneath the Sith Assassin’s heel.

Letifer watched the life slowly begin to leave him, around him screams pierced the veil as the tribe of Dathomiri natives were put to the lash and brought forth in true MAW fashion. They’d come to gather those who would answer the call of Pom Stych Tivé or Tegan Starfall and join with the Brotherhood, those who would abandon their half-hearted loyalties to the old Sith who were too weak to command their loyalty properly.

The Sith Assassin looked to Khaostra Devoid to handle the Dathomiri, one Witch of Dathomir visibly becoming distraught with how Letifer brought the few Nightbrothers they had under heel. Each clan or coven for that matter was different some were not like the Nightsisters, arguably the Sith Assassin could barely distinguish a difference or cared anymore to do so. If the Dark Voice wanted to offer the Nightbrothers and Nightsisters a realm of their own on some distant world than so be it, he’d help herd along any who’d join and crush any clans of Witches who would not follow Pom Stych Tivé and her Nightsisters or their rivals within the MAW under Khaostra Devoid and the Sorcerer Supreme of the Rhandites Tegan Starfall . The two covens belonged to differing ideologies, recruiting to one spurred the other and honestly it made for good competition to inspire the fittest to rise up. He only truly cared about one thing, and one thing only.

Releasing his foot from the Nightbrother’s throat he kneeled down and spoke softly once more.

“The Academy, the Sith pretenders. Tell me everything.”

———————————————
​

Present..

The Ommin-Class Sith Infiltration Shuttle screamed into the open space between Dathomir and the Shadow Academy. Stealth systems engaged, sensors scrambled, and communications blocked. They didn’t know he was coming, the Sith believing they were safe and protected in their cradle of knowledge. He could feel the hate swelling within him already, it would not be long before the error of their existence was corrected.

​

His sensors suddenly jolted with activity, alarms igniting in a series of sudden flashes as multiple objects emerged from hyperspace..

 

[Wresto]

Location: Dathomir, Nightsister Stronghold
Objective: Provide Sniper Support

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​

Currently, the New Imperial Order is paying the bills with Roi’s current contract with their armed forces. Dathomir, under normal circumstances he would say it was a shame he needed to visit a world for the first time like this. He didn’t know much about it, but what he did know was that it was an ugly world. Shrouded in the cosmic energy known as the Dark Side. Roi was a bit of a materialist, so he didn’t understand much about these hokey religions or their practitioners. But apparently for a select few it granted them psychic powers, and this planet was home to some of them that were problematic to the NIO.

Operation Black Sabbath they called it. Seemed fitting considering these hostile mystics were called witches. He could understand why they were an issue for the seemingly mostly secular Imperials and their war machine. A war machine that he was now a part of since Roi didn’t much partake in military contracts until now. His pay was just too good.

For Roi’s job in particular he was tasked with sniper support. Meant to help out the small scout trooper corp. With his augmentations that was a job he should be able to fulfill quite well. Equipped with a good scope and his internal targeting computers connected to his blaster rifle for the mission.

On his lonesome he listened in on the Imperial’s coms as he trekked through some of the ominous terrain of the spooky planet. Currently Roi just wore a black tank top and some camo army fatigue pants with his DLT-19x targeting rifle holstered on his back. Given how so much of his lethal equipment was implanted into his body he looked ill prepared. Although he was anything but…

Up on a cliff overlooking the Witch’s stronghold Roi got himself ready and in position. Drawing his targeting blaster he readied the bipod under it’s barrel before lowering himself to the ground to get a good position and sight on the target area and his adversaries.

 

[Michael Barran]

POST #1
OBJECTIVE 3: BYOO
DRUIDIC_LAIRD
TAGS: Khaostra Devoid

MICHAEL'S LOADOUT
PRIMARY WEAPON: FRAGARACH DISRUPTOR-PISTOL
SECONDARY WEAPON: PALE-BLUE LIGHTSABRE
SECONDARY BLADE: VIBROSWORD CAVALRY-SABRE

PROVING GROUND: BACK TO BASICS - MICHAEL'S WALK THROUGH DATHOMIR (PART 1)

A horrible, dark place this was.

No wonder the NIO were sticking with their,"NO MERCY!", policy here. Such an inhospitable planet for humans and their nearest equivalents was always destined for incineration, and all the life-forms that dared live on it's surface at the time. Barran would seek out an easily-accessible mountain cave as the rest of Fel's ground forces wreaked havoc in the more-densely populated regions of the planet, bringing materials from Galidraan III and IV to the chosen location, dropping down in a stolen Sith-loyalist TIE-fighter as close as they could to the place that the Wanderer had marked out on the map-holographic display; everything needed to be perfect, for what the young Laird had in mind required the strictest attention to detail, and required just as much strength to withstand whatever was to transpire in the moments after his incantations had been spoken.
Its quite perfect really, just enough to bring - Devoid - out o' the woodwoorks.

'D'ye 'hink she'll show, Milord?', Michael's second-in-command asked, unsheathing his officer-issue rapier after clasping his SA-65 to it's shoulder sling, drawing his officer-issue pistol soon after as the harsh winds kicked up red dust and gravel all around them. It reminded both individuals of the footage they were able to find from the allied efforts on Korriban, but with somewhat grimmer, darker hues than the bright vibrant, burning colours kicked up in Tegan Starfall's sandstorm that day. The storms on Korriban, however, though great and intense they were from a power-wielded artificiality at the time, paled in comparison to the natural storms that put the duo's attempts to land in near jeopardy until a blessedly lengthy lull in the wind-intensity gifted them enough time and safety to land properly near their blip-marked cave.

Turning back to hold Randall's gaze for the fitting response, Lord Michael would snigger slightly before responding,'Oh, that one's almost certain t'show, McBain. We've gotten far enough beneath each other's skin that it's bound t'happen at some point.', drawing his lightsabre and bringing it to glowing life as the 1st-Leftenant nodded with a certain small relief and assuredness of his own safety. Though Michael had been training McBain to wield his officer-issue rapier to a near-Gowrie standard of short-blade fencing proficiency, it was clear that Force-Users would be well out of the Highlander's league if push came to shove, but both had great faith in Randall's ability to handle any bodyguards or subordinate-goons of other Mawsworn variety, and with much trust in the 1st-Leftenant's frightening ability to pick killing strikes from the strangest angles also.

'But we've got greater things to worry about anyway, such as the gods we forgot when our ancestors were baptized as monotheists.'

 

[Aemilio Valaar]

Obj 1 - Nightsister Stronghold
Omari Cardon - Roi Lutador

The red skies were a harbinger of what was coming for the planets' occupants. Bloodshed, mayhem, chaos. The Black Hands of the 501st descended from the skies with naught but fury in their heart.

They were told that this was one of the last strongholds of the Dark Side in the Iron Ring. Sympathizers and insurgents were rooted out and killed on other worlds. Uneventful work, but to assault Witches? The Black Hands had faced all sorts of enemies on the field, wielders of the mystical arts of the Force were one of them.

He was a learned student. He knew there was a difference between them. Could sense that there was one, when compared to the chill that Korriban weighed on the unsuspecting.

Aemilio watched as the red terrain whipped past them, the side doors of the shuttle open to reveal other assault ships in their wake. From the sky, red-white lightning descended, striking one of the shuttles. An explosion, chunks of metal split off from where names, faces he knew became charred corpses falling out of the sky.

"Get ready to drop in 10!" The countdown was visible in their HUDs. At his flank, Aemilio saw Omari and offered a singular nod.

"Shoot to kill," he reminded before the crimson light turned green.

Even if the Sergeant didn't, a direct hit was typically a killing blow anyway when it came to disruptors.

From the stronghold, a coalition of Nightsister Clans, united agaihnst the might of the Imperial Order charged out to them. The matriarchal dominated Clans sent the men out first, little more than enslaved aliens, with sticks and paltry blasters. But they were numerous, compared to the vanguard Black Hands and associated numbers.

 

[Knight]

Objective 1
Operation: Black Sabbath
Some tunes
Tags: Open

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A Sentinel-class landing craft dropped its carried cargo bay to the surface with a thunderous clang as the Operation started. From within a whirling noise of actuators was followed by the wrenching of durasteel as a stout walker tore through the thin façade. The chin mounted E-Web hummed with power until a nearly coherent beam of superheated plasma bolts flew through the mists at the nearby Nightbrother's village. The indiscriminate attack was pressed when the Knight urged his war machine closer to the outskirts. The warriors from within the village brought their weapons to bear on the walker, though the small arms were proving to be ineffective so far. A thin deflector shield rippled like the surface of water as return fire impacted it. The state-of-the-art personal walker's top mounted cannons swiveled and adjusted until both barrels fired once. The duo of streaks impacted somewhere within the interior of the village causing a mild explosion and a brilliant flash of green light.

The Kezia-class Heavy Personal Walker trudged forward a few more steps before activating the top mounted blaster cannons once more. The green streaks, flash, and explosion echoed through the nightmarish marsh. From the dimly light sky above a Nightbrother fell in front of Knight having been thrown into the air from the most recent attack. A large foot raised and crushed downward onto the body of the warrior ending his life swiftly if wasn't already killed by the fall. At the sight of the seemingly invincible machine laying waste to portions of their village most of the remaining Nightbrothers opted to retreat deeper into the marshes. Though they could not hide from the KXM-OS-O1A 'Electric Eye' system installed within the Kezia nor the STS-83 "Artemis" Class Targeting & Sensor System, both of which could peer into the abyss and see the light of lifeforms unhindered. Their body heat betrayed them just as much as the faint electrical fields around their bodies, outlining them all with a crisp red outline even when they were obscured by dense vegetation. A holographic, topographic, map appeared before Knight's eyes which tracked the Nightbrother's as they fell back "Corporal Knight reporting landing zone Thesh is under Imperial control. Garrison in full retreat." the pilot communicated to the Operation's command informing them that it was clear to send reinforcements to his position without credible fear of being attacked when offloading their passengers. Though to call the villagers, even if they were Nightbrother clan warriors, a garrison was a tad of an overstatement. Perhaps it was how Knight would justify his involvement in later years.

 

[Auria Blackmoore]

ALLIES: Konrad Harrsk | Aemilio Valaar | Omari Cardon | Roi Lutador | Knight | NIO
ENEMIES: TRAITORS TO THE BALANCE! | BOTM | Anyone else who oppose
ENGAGING: Open
GEAR: A dress (just to spite Konrad with his stealth mindset)

O~~>DEVIL'S CROWN<~~O​

"We're doing what?!"

Why did the Buckethead always wait until they were already en route to drop bombs like this on her? Auria dearly wished she had misheard his snotty mumbling about purging a sacred planet.

She had only been on Dathomir once as a child, but the arts practiced upon it had influenced her own upbringing and training heavily. As she had grown older, she had always felt that it's essence had been tainted by some covens' strong ties with the Sith Empire. But the offhand briefing that was just given to her, felt almost extreme.

Exterminating her own kind.

The thought left a foul taste in her mouth as the Imperial fleet cast an extra shadow on the already dark world. Stopping just before getting in the dropship, she looked at Konrad.
"Fine. But no gas bombs. Got it?" she said before getting in the dropship.

The malice that whipped across the crimson skies was jarring.

Yet, the planet was almost welcoming to the rogue witch as her feet touched ground. It was the motherland of her faith, after all. It had fallen into chaotic ruin at the hands of the Sith and their ilk, but it's power still sent power surging through Auria.

How long it would last, was anybody's guess however. Auria did not exactly come in peace. She was not out for blood, but she was with the bucketheads, so that would not win her any brownie points with the Night covens. Numerous nations had made the mistake in the past to try and take the planet by storm. It always found a way to fight back.

But for a change, Auria was in her element.

As the Black Hands and other units diligently engaged with the sudden onslaught of Nightbrothers, Auria thought quickly. Filtering through years of dreary theory, she recalled the layout of the Stronghold.

Without ceremony, she latched onto Konrad's upper arm and dragged the fool out of the direct file of engagement.
"There's another way in, but it'll take some dancing around some rancors. Think your mediocre skill can handle that?" she asked him over the din of blaster fire. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she could handle it. But they might as well make the best out of a chitty and dark situation.

Maybe, just maybe, she could use the Nightsister magic against them.

Not that it sat well with her. On the contrary.

 

[Ghalric Rau]

B L I T Z H U N D
SPECTRE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BEING A WITNESS FROM DOOR TO DOOR | DATHOMIR
TAG: Shai Maji | Open
GEAR: Armour | 2x Pistols | Sniper Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Basilisk War Droid | Grenade loadout

DOGS OF WAR
​

An ominous howl pierced the air.

Out of the dark crimson sky shot a monstrosity who let loose a salvo of particle beams in a rapid brrrrrrrrrrrt, clearing a gaggle line of Nightbrothers that had just flanked the leading Trooper units from the woods.
<Blitzhund to Voidwalker.> the comms crackled through to Aemilio Valaar . <You're welcome, Kid. Now keep up the advance. No lollygagging.> The Greyhound's tone was easy-going, however.

Blitz adjusted the course of the Howler to head further inland to where intelligence had said some Witch covens could be found. The Spectre had his reservations about the use of the magic practitioners within the ranks of Imperial forces but after seeing what one could do while fighting on their side, he had relented some leniency to the idea.

<Blitzhund to Wardog.> he called through to Shai. <Sending you some coordinates, lass. Heading that way.> The semi-sentient droid immediately patched through coordinates to its fellow model without any prompting and then accelerated its speed to reach their destination faster.
The Shistavanen had greatly impressed him with her skill on different levels - smuggling through full on battle. He had caught her red-handed trying to smuggle weapons off Bastion, but one thing had led to another and the two of them had ended up fending off some Sith simps together.

It was here that he had learnt that she was more than a mere smuggler. She was Mando'ad.

Now, the pup was accompanying him on an op without a hum or ha.

Well, maybe not entirely without a hum and ha.

"Say that again." The modified dark commando armour made Blitz even more imposing than his tall frame already made him out to be. His cool tone of voice did not help in this instance.
"You heard me, Imp. We will never subject to your laws. We have endured the Sith and we will endure you." the defiant middle-aged woman told him with a sneer.
"So be it." In one movement, he pulled a Hybrid from his hip and placed a bolt at point-blank perfectly between her eyes.

As the defiant witch's body hit the floor, Blitz turned toward Shai as he holstered his pistol once more.
"Seems like it's going to be a door to door kind of trip like some of those religious groups." he told her as he started to move deeper into Aurilia. The little settlement was quite small, but not everyone could be bad apples in this batch. If there were, the two Basilisks would have a field day.

Stopping in front of a random door, he lifted a hand to knock but stopped midway.
"Uh, how about you try this one. Let's see if they would be more inclined to dish some info on who is still supporting the Nightsisters and their Sith bedfellows." he said, turning his visor toward Shai. The canine had displayed quite the charismatic streak when he had put a stop to her gunrun endeavour. He wanted to see if she could do it again.

That and he wasn't exactly dressed diplomatically.

And he had just been the executioner his armour hinted at.

 

[Gail Weller]

Sergeant Gail Weller
Dathomir's Orbit
Objective #2: Inquisition

Gail settles into the gunship's leather-wrapped pilot seat and pushes arms through a safety harness, its' buckles meeting over her armoured abdomen. Corporal Reis settles down in the co-pilot's seat with Imperial Security Officers quietly taking up seats to the rear of the fuselage. Gail's eyes peer through the canopy from behind the black visor of her white and charcoal combat helmet. She receives the signal from the Navy crewman inside the Star Destroyer's hangar. Gail places one hand on the stick between her knees. Gail peers over the control console to her left and starts punching the holographic display with her index finger. "Gunship launch command accepted". The craft's droid brain intones with its' deep voice.

The six fusion engines that surround the fuselage whirr loudly. Gail hears both port and starboard airlocks fold down and flush against the fighting compartment. "Airlock sealed", The craft's droid brain intones with its' deep voice. Gail's right hand pushes the throttle, feet depressing the pair of pedals, and she gently manipulates the stick. Her gunship rises from the hanger floor steadily. Its' metal feet rise against the insectoid frame. "Launch confirmed." The silence is broken by Gail; she releases a held breath.

Corporal Reis hears it, and he turns his helmeted visage in her direction. "I guess if they turn out to be Sith cultists, we'll let the Gunship do the talking, Sarge?" Reis smile could be heard if not seen, and she watches Gail nod wordlessly while their craft surfs through the void of space.

 

[Orika]

(retracted)

 

[Amaya Vollmond]

OBJECTIVE II: Inquisition

[ OPEN ]

Sharp Fangs and Shimmering Scales

Amaya stumbled in line with the others, her hands bound tightly together, the rope extending to the woman in front of her. Ebon waves fell haphazardly over her grime covered face, jade eyes piercing through the muck. There was a certain loathing in her glare, her pride had taken quite the hit. To be marched around like a slave by these abhorrent outsiders was more than enough to set her senses to absolute wrath, but she was smart. Too smart to fight back. Survival was the only goal in this moment, and it was a goal that she would achieve at all cost, even at the expense of her honor as a Dathomirian Witch. Talon shaped nails dug into her pale palms, forming small crescent shaped cuts along her calloused hands. Millions of thoughts raced through her mind, but she took a deep breath, calming herself. Resignation to their defeat had begun to settle, and served well to keep her thoughts clear and her emotions at bay.

After some time walking, they were lined up in a neat row with near surgical efficiency. The woman dropped to her knees, forced to sit and wait as one by one her Sisters were dragged off for interrogation. Few returned, being settled once more into place, their binds returned to their previous place. Others were not so lucky. One by one, her Sisters were whittled away to near nothing. She took this time to send her gaze to the skies. Soot covered the once clear and calm skies of Dathomir. The sound of raging battle carried on the contrastingly calm breeze, sending echoes of dying screams to rest on her more attuned ears.

Blood trickled from her busted lip, blending with the now smudged dark red tint she had painted on them earlier that morning. It had been a peaceful start to the day, with no notion of what was to come at the ruthless hands of the New Imperial Order by command of their Leader, who had built a rather merciless reputation for himself. Sure, their way of life was rather...unconventional, but it was peaceful. There was order amongst her Sisters, and to see it all come to this...Her hatred burned unfettered for those damnable Sith bastards that had brought this fate upon them, and these cleanly uniformed subjects who had taken all she'd ever known. How ironic, to act in such a way. There was no honor in this battle, and they never stood a chance.

Amaya was broken from her deep concentration by the brutish shout of a man who stood nearby. With a sharp pull, she was lifted back to her feet, and she walked without resistance, eager to meet they who had so dutifully become both judge and executioner. If luck favored her, a silver tongue would serve her purpose far better than aggression, and that was the approach she had become determined to take.

 

[Marcad]

G R E E N _ I N Q U I S I T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
DATHOMIR
STARRING | Atticus Draco

The Darkside was strong here.

Intoxicating was its pull to someone as afflicted as he was, the planet and its cancer knowing too well what was buried down within him. Scars that were impossible to heal as he remained adamant on his anger and hatred from the tragedy he lived to see on Mirial years ago; years before the Iron Sun challenged the Crimson Saber.

He should’ve been dead.

Was it a miracle or a curse that he lived to tell the tale?

Now the aura that was to be culled mocked him, taunted him as a means to be a distraction to himself...

...and those with him.

“Witchcraft,” he seethed silently to himself, heart yearning to seek and destroy the Darkside that tainted these grounds.

“We don’t need these witches to help us,” he commented to his fellow Imperial Knight as the two were to be aid from witches and warriors that, too, wished to vindicate against those that studied the perverted ways of the Force. His thoughts were to purge everyone in his path, and did not matter if they were innocent or otherwise.

Murder...

A hint of sulfur bloomed as a mere dot within his left iris.

 

[AlienDark12]

[ i did a boo boo ]

 

[Aridius 'TK-1575']

D A T H O M I R

ALLIES: Kolson Vrask
ENEMIES: NIGHTSISTERS, NIGHTBROTHERS, DARKSIDERS, MAW

​

The lights of his HUD interface gleamed to life. This was Aridius' or TK-5324's first actual mission. Time spent at the Training Academy was well-speaking of a bright future in his career; perfect Marksmenship scoring, perfect dress right dress on Drill and Ceremony and he was even selected to attend several courses for specialized training upon the success of his initial enlisted career. Because of these valiant actions, Aridius was placed as a Z-6 Rotary Blaster Cannon gunner; toating a heavy backpack that proper amounts of energy clips to sustain fire against the enemy. He was especially dangerous when it came to sustained cyclic fire, being strong enough to wield such a blaster standing. Despite these most successful statistics upon paper, he was still young.

...THUD-THUD...
...THUD-THUD...
...THUD-THUD...
His heartbeat against the chest inserts of his armor.​

"FIFTEEN SECONDS TO DROP." A robotic-eerie-like voice came upon the HUD monitor, the camera of his commanding officer showing an equally scared face, quickly cutting off as the voice feed was cut off from the Officer's end. They were inside a transport ship- carrying a company of Stormtroopers that at the same time loaded their Blasters and linked their heavy-battery packs to Rotary cannons and other systems. Aridius did the same, linking a massive energy link that connected into the Blaster. It came to life, a bar that showcased how many shots he had coming to life on the right side of his HUD; all the information he needed at face value. As others of his fellow Stormtroopers performed this, on the bottom left of his HUD came their life-vitals and TK numbers; all showing green. "Shoot to kill."

Some distant man said. Attached to this Stormtrooper company were several Special Operations units, they had their own objectives that were in the same area as the Stormtroopers. "FIVE SECONDS TO DROP." First time setting foot on a hostile planet, first time firing his Blaster-Cannon at something not a target, first time to.. The thoughts shadowed Aridius as the red lights turned green. "MOVE, SECURE THE PERMITER-." One of the Stormtrooper Sergeants shouted out as both Aridius and the others poured out of the Dropship and into the maw.

​

Their objective was a minor Nightsister Clan that overlooked a valley that connected several disgusting and horrific Rivers that made it a key objective in the campaign. It became a city almost, doing whatever Nightsisters and Nightbrothers do on their freetime; which meant that it will be populated. Orbital bombardment has already rendered sections of this Clan's city to rubble, which made it even more hellish for the Stormtroopers that kicked off.

FOR THE IRON-IMPERATOR

The initial minutes of the landing was a bloodbath. Red-blaster bolts became interlaced with Nightsister magic and more smaller and precise Energy-Bows that flew overhead. Beams of green-light stuck the smaller AT-STs that scorched their crewman inside. Luckily, Aridius' helmet filtered out their piercing screams. Aridius' mind shut-off, entering a kill mode that he never experienced before. Things felt right, they felt good; the andreline pumping through is veins as his finger pressed tightly against the Blaster-Cannon's trigger; unleashing a straight burst of death that streamed across the battlefield.

Almost all the Stormtroopers, and the Special Units that were attached to them, took cover inside of a blasted out crater as they steadily and deliberately blitzkrieged the Nightsisters that knew they were coming. Aridius was standing, letting lose with his Blaster-cannon. He couldn't see anything really, all the Imperial firepower and Nightsister magic made his typical visor settings glitchy at best.

He kept on seeing a Nightsister's Energy Bow come to life in a closer vicinity, letting off a few more plasma rounds before hiding behind something. Was it a tree? Was it a rock? Either way, Aridius knew what to do- he turned the blaster cannon, using the targeting interface inside his HUD and let off a burst of rounds. { Die-die-die-die. } Saying die four times in his head was a good pace-maker for sustained fire over a period of time. The rounds from the Blaster-cannon vaporized the rock that the Nightsister was hiding behind, and her and two others behind it.

Aridius always thought that killing someone else, another living being either foul or Imperial, would be life-changing. That this was what it meant to be a Stormtrooper. Yet, as his targeting interface locked onto the corpse that was flung out from the rock and charred; he felt nothing. Not even as the Nightsister appeared old enough to be a lover or a sister of some-kind. He cut out those thoughts, taking cover as a burst of Green-Lighting ripped toward Aridius. It flew past his head, ripping into the red-mist behind him.

What kind of nightmare was this place?

[ this is my first post on this entire rp thing so i hope it's satisfactory ]

 

[Atticus Draco]

W H I T E C L O A K
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
OBJECTIVE II
Imperial Knight Armour | Lightsaber
Marcad
Proximity: Gail Weller

During their journey to the planet the Knight-Errant leveled multiple wary gazes in the direction of the Inquisitor. Aenarion was no stranger to the Dark, it was why he had given himself to the Force Corps and their learnings. Adopted the path of the soldier and discipline to0 restrain the potent energy that tried to trick him into evil.

Was the Mirialan the same way? Perhaps in want of being an Imperial Knight, but they seemed shameless in their ties to the Dark Side.

The white garbed Knight withdrew his saberstaff at the bidding of the Mirialan Inquisitor, his fingers sliding over the ignition button, but not yet pressing it.

"They are skilled in the ways of the Force, in ways not understood by Sith or Jedi. It'd be wise to capture a few, at the very least." Behind his mask, his gaze squinted. The unseen eyes behind tightening as he eyed the approach and those they had come to recruit. But there was no insistence in his tone, if the Knight sought to kill the Witches and their ilk, he would not oppose him.

There was the Dark Side. But there was more too. Something he could not explain. Different, but not of the same shade as the Sith's deep darkness.

"At your lead," Aenarion said.

 

[Mav Ryburn]

DATHOMIR
OPERATION: BLACK SABBATH
Armor Support: Knight

Only the hum and rattle of the descending shuttle filled his ears. He hadn't said a word since boarding the small craft, and neither had anyone else. With the exception of the Squad Leader and pilots, every trooper on that shuttle was fresh from one academy or another. Not one had seen real fighting. They'd been assured that no one would have to disembark in a combat zone, and that a landing pad of some kind was being prepared. That was the only encouraging word they'd been given. Maybe the Captain knew that trying to reassure them would only make them more nervous.

Mav checked his sidearm absentmindedly, then his holster. Blaster wouldn't do much good if it fell off his leg. He looked around at the others, standing just as silent, most also checking their gear. Seemed no one wanted to be the first idiot to try and crack a joke. Taking his service rifle in both hands, the young soldier took a deep breath.

All his life, the NIO had only ever given to Mav. It'd given his broken family refuge and sanctuary when he was a child, given him an education and training, a chance to prove himself. He'd been given armor, a pair of blasters, and a free ride to a planet full of Sith filth. He'd been given a purpose. Now he had a chance to give back, and he wasn't going to waste it.

From the cockpit came a voice crackling over the channel. "Corporal Knight reporting: landing zone Thesh is under Imperial control. Garrison in full retreat."

There were some cheers from the fresh stormtroopers, and Mav lifted his voice with them. It felt good to yell into that oppressive humming. The pilot acknowledged the communication and stated his heading. "Sentinel D-59, proceeding to landing zone Thesh by 244. Beginning our approach."

Now the young stormtroopers could feel the gradual descent, and the equipment checks began again in earnest. Mav noticed that even those whom he'd watched check their gear several times over seemed intent on looking over their rifles one final time. He made no move to join them. There was something else he needed to check.

Closing his eyes, he began to visualize what the next several hours would be like. Two fingers tapping the side of his helmet shut off comms. In a quiet voice that did not leave his shiny new bucket, Mav began to tell a story.

"We'll disembark in a prepped zone, but I won't lower my guard. My enemy will wave blades and ancient blasters, but I won't underestimate them. I will be caught by surprise at some point today. I will not panic. I will calmly draw the nearest weapon and dispatch the enemy. What I do today, I do for the Order. Some of the men around me will freeze up. They will run from engagement, or refuse to move from cover until they're surrounded and killed. They'll forget they're soldiers. But I will not forget. I will not abandon them. And I will not die today."

 

[Gail Weller]

Sergeant Gail Weller
Dathomir's Orbit
Objective #2: Inquisition
Tags: Marcad , Atticus Draco

Gail drops the blue-painted gunship beneath the dark clouds of Dathomir. Corporal Reis activated the airframe's foglights; their beams pierce through the dense fog that wafts across the surface, spindly dead trees rise from the misty soup. Changing the craft's com-channel to the operations channel, Gail blink-clicks the comlink hologlyph. "All callsigns on channel, this is Sergeant Abigail Weller of the Imperial Security Force. Our operation orders are to provide close-air and ground support. How copy?"

The shape of stone spires rises from the horizon as the gunship steadily descends to the surface, zooming above the dead oak and cypress forests. Corporal Reis looks to his squad supervisor again and gestures towards the canopy. "Looks like we won't have a good place to set it down other than right in front of the temple, Sarge." The sea of withered trees appeared to be endless. Reis thought to himself, it must be next to impossible for anything to live here; a shiver crawls up his back. Reis thought that this would be it if there was such a thing as an 'evil' planet.

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

P A L A D I N
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER
Amaya Vollmond

LADY EVIL
​

Dathomir was ever the hive of darkness and depravity. Waymar doubted Empire would change that. But with a change of regime, The Empire was less in the business of accepting ailments and more so in purging them. As the Imperial Knights and Stormtrooper Corps crusaded down the Night Sisters from this pestilent world, Waymar was given an off color assignment. At least, off color to his usual line of work. The Imperial Knight Paladin was far more fit to the mission of the Crusader Chapters of the Order. He was a fighter first and foremost, hardly anything else truly. And yet, in all his time spent suffering the Galidraani noble ettiquette, here he was a broker of the Empire deciding the fate of an esoteric clan of Witches on a far off world.

In the makeshift interrogation area, nestled in a undisturbed chamber of these ancient ruins, Waymar supervised the normalization of the Singing Mountain Clan of the Witches of Dathomir. With political dissidents, similar operations were typically undertaken by COMPNOR. However, this was a differing circumstance, a Force Cult or Order called for a likeminded creed to deal with them.

He was in the process of another interrogation. Though to call it that was not truly genuine. There was hardly any information to gather here, only an assignment. Death or normalization. Death was simple. Either the subject displayed tendencies toward the dark side or sympathies toward the Sith Empire. Their willingness to subvert local allegiances in favor of the Sith were ultimately useless to the Empire. No time would be wasted surveiling them or containing them. They'd only be put to the sword.

<"Were you or were any of your associates active collaborators with the Sith Empire?"> Waymar asked a simply question, his argent helm creating a placid mask to his demeanor.

"No- no!...we've been enemies to the Sith for thousands of years, generations!" The woman yelled out in the reply. He'd heard the same sentiment several times before.

<"And yet the Sith Empire occupied this world with little organized resistance to their rule."> Waymar replied, awaiting the Witch's own.

"They were too strong for us to take on alone- Knight. There was no hope for us, for anyone." She replied. Waymar had no visible reaction. Beneath his visor his eyes were trained on hers, her expressions, her nervous ticks and mannerisms.

<"You fight an enemy, you do not cower before them. At that point, you are not their enemy...you are their slaves and they are your masters. And you saw a life of slavery more fit than a life lived in defiance. You would subject yourself and your people to this fate, to attempt to integrate you into our Empire would mean leaving all those around you at risk to the same fate you suffered here."> Waymar said before glancing in the direction of a Death Trooper standing in the corner of the room.

A blaster bolt seared the back of her brainpan and she collapsed unto the ground, dead.

Her case was made and her fate decided.

Another trooper dragged the body from the room and the next woman was filtered in.

Amaya Vollmond . Immediately, Waymar began the process over again once more.

<"State your name."> He immediately began, following with another question.

<"Are you native born Dathomiri? What was your position among this Clan?"> He continued.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

G R U N G E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
IMPERIAL MILITARY ASSISTANCE GROUP
SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND | 1st GROUP | 'VANDAL' SQUAD
OPERATION BLACK SABBATH
Aridius 'TK-1575'

SWALLOWING DUST
DATHOMIR
​

<"You get a look at the r-o-e for this op?"> The Storm Commando at Vrask's flank asked, they both had naturally, but it was interesting topic of conversation in itself, given the body of their career collectively.

<"Kill on sight all within operations area..."> Kolson replied, slamming a fresh power pack into his battle rifle before glancing to the ammo read to see it topped off to a full pack. As ready as he ever could be to collect scalps.

<"Long reign Rurik Fel, feels like the leash is off now doesn't it?"> The Operative pressed. He might've been right. Even if Irveric hailed from a military lineage of the Sith Empire and the One Sith, he was ultimately more of a grounded mortal man struggling to free his people and see his dream of an Empire free of the Sith realize. He made it, Rurik's job was to keep it together.

<"Sure does, for now at least. But c'mon, we're with some green units on this drop, let's make sure they're squared away. Been since Ziost we've been in a spot like this but they're Stormtroopers, they'll be fine."> Kolson says, setting the two back unto the rails of the objective ahead once more. Dathomir was consumed in darkness.

And it was time to burn.

An analog timer and a rappel to the surface in a violent gunship drop and they were in the thick of it on Dathomir. Savage battle of blasters trained on savage Witches and Warriors. This place was hell. War as a whole was hell, whether it be the ruins of suffering on Ziost or in the streets of Harnaidan. But war didn't make Dathomir into a hell, it was that way from the very start.

Wading the killing fields they neared their objective. Sorcery and dark arts thwarted their paths. Kolson often wondered what the faces of the greens looked like under their helmets and then he thought back to the first time he was in the rush and thunder of combat. Those feelings he had then were shared with himself and himself alone. It's something a man has to deal with on his own. But right now, they all had a mission. To burn, maim and kill on this wretched hive.

In their illusion of false security in this makeshift unprepared position, a phasic cut lashed through the air itself in a bright fel green, revealing a swarm of Night Brothers, shirtless in their primal tattoos and scars clutching bloody, spiked maces in their hands.

As much as they were huddled up waiting to lay hellfire on the enemy ahead, soon enough they were in the thick of it, the melee. The freshest of the Imperator's finest would meet their test of mettle far sooner than any of them would've liked. Kolson immediately rushed the closest, holding his long barreled battle rifle up to block the downward blow of a mace, the haft catching on the stock before he'd throw his weight into the clash and fire a quick burst into the Zabrak's chest.

<"Form up! Not a damn inch!"> The Commando barked out in the hopes of rallying the troopers to defend this spot.

 

[Nile Hark]

45TH PENAL LEGION
DATHOMIR
OPERATION BLACK SABBATH
Aemilio Valaar Roi Lutador Knight Auria Blackmoore
Aridius 'TK-1575' Kolson Vrask Mav Ryburn

"Fucking Dathomir..."

Of all the dismal campaigns currently being waged by the Empire surely this had to be the worst. It was perfect for a unit like Captain Hark's penal troops. While elite stormtrooper companies deployed in cutting edge drop pods the 45th relied on battered old atmospheric assault landers vulnerable to the Nightsister witches and their unholy magicks.

As soon as the hatch was raised a plasma bolt from one of the native energy bows eviscerated a trio of conscripts. The others hesitated until Nile drew his blaster and fired a bolt into the deck.

"Keep moving forward," he screamed over the rumble of heavy walkers, "or I'll grant you the Imperator's mercy!"

More mudtroopers were cut down on the ramp or a few meters into the jungle. That's when the real dying began. Hark forced the criminals under his command to contend with both an enemy they could barely see and a world that seemed out to kill them. Their operational effectiveness was negligible but this wouldn't be the first time they'd been deployed as a distraction. Better for a penal unit to soak up all the attrition.

Of course Nile wasn't immune to the danger. They said it took a special kind of crazy to volunteer for this kind of duty. Even most loyalty officers sought less martyrish ways to serve. He had his own reasons for being here. Maybe this would be the world that finally consumed him.

Monstrous roars pierced the jungle. They were being hunted by more than mutant zabraks.

"Bring it down!" Hark shoved a conscript aside.

Massive claws grabbed the mudtrooper on his other flank and terrified screams pierced the gloom until rancor teeth sunk deep into the convict's upper torso and silenced them forever.