We Are One (Dominion dom of Bimmiel and Gravlex Med)

[Judas of Vahl]

Post: [02/20]

Chaos.

This primal concept of a state without order, where strife and toil ran rampant and the blood of the weak fueled the strong. Survival of the fittest was how existence maintained its balance. It was ironic really, chaos was how this universe kept itself in line and balanced with the course of unpredictable events unfolding. It was here where Judas thrived, prospered, and found a reason for continued existence. Maintaining this balance was his ultimate goal, to send the galaxy into eternal strife where progress was always an arm's length away.

Dirt clung against his armor, coating his metallic and sinewy frame with a crust of clodded soil. A minute had barely passed since the Yorik-trema spat him out and into the fray, sword's edge gleaming bright crimson with the gains of a freshly slain foe. Little resistance was offered, though Judas had to admire their skill in reacting instantly. An entire platoon of defenders lay in the wake of he and his best warriors, who were busying themselves in finishing off the wounded and pressing outwards.

"Uurath," he snarled, shield hefted up. "You know what to do. Kill everything and anything that dare stand against you. No prisoners, no mercy." Simple orders, really. Uurath and his kind were used to this - and they took pleasure in exterminating the infidels.

The Subaltern gave a curt nod, grunted something to his comrades, and sped off without another word. Judas could trust in their abilities to get the job done. This was their purpose in life, and they would excel in all forms.

A voice cut through his thoughts. He stood there, an emblem of sheer hatred, destruction, and chaos - all bundled up in the shape of a single man. The sword was clutched tightly by gauntleted fingers, the shield concealed his left flank, and his visage was nothing more than a faceless shock trooper. More yorik-tremas dropped from the sky, streaking through the flak-strewn skies before smashing down near his position to deposit troops - Yuuzhan Vong and Chazrach alike.

Fire breathers and Rakamats took up the rear after the infantry had cleared the landing zone. These beasts immediately set off towards the enemy, either spewing searing, hot, gelatinous flame or taking up the charge with its reptoid infantry to start making short work of their foes in glorious battle.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Post 3

Dust to dust.

As she tried her best to sift through the rubble, the Archlord's joke reached her ears. "Haven't managed to drive myself insane yet." Her joke was dry, humorless, as if she believed it was a distinct and very real possibility. Her limbs strained to lift one of the heavier stones as she poured the Force into them, the strain feeling as if it would press her bones together, if not shatter them. Growling in rage, she let the stone fall, and her saber flicked out. Lashing out at the stone, she smiled as it fell apart from the blows into more manageable chunks. Lifting most of them away from the gate, she tested the hatchway. Locked. Shaking her head, she stabbed the blade into it, melting away the lock and swinging the hatchway open.

Dropping in, she held the blade before her, the crimson light of her blade illuminating the area. Many of the prisoners cowered before her, no doubt mistaking her for one of those they came to kill. Shaking her head, she moved between the cages, cutting off locks.

 

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Whilst Judas led the battle on the field, Cedric busied himself with freeing the captives. There was far more than the Archlord had expected, though their presence here explained the mass disappearances plaguing this part of space. The forces of the Arch-Enemy had been far more active in this part of the galaxy than the youth would have liked, and it seemed the majority of the Dominion shared such sentiments. To allow them to gain such a foothold could not be allowed ever again.

"I suppose that's all part of the fun; staving off the desire for release that the mind so craves." Cedric replied as they managed to force the door apart. It was by no means an elegant motion, but then time was of the essence here.

The Archlord followed Grace's example, moving from one cell to the next breaking locks. Those within either ran for safety or threw themselves at his feet, proclaiming their eternal thanks and loyalty. Cedric sent them on their way to the FOB.

He continued this process until he found himself standing outside the cage of a woman, this one fairly young and far more...something than her peers. He couldn't tell as to what.

The lightsaber hissed at it cut through the lock.

"Got another one here Grace," he called, before turning to the woman in the cage. "You're free now. Most everyone else fled before they could explain things. What's been happening here? Do you know why they were taking captives?"

[member="Grace Darkson"], [member="Judas Foster"], [member="Jairdain"]

 

[Jairdain]

Jairdain having spoken Basic for only about three years had a slight and unplaceable accent. She shook her head before speaking. Having been denied anything to eat or drink her throat was dry.

"No, I was only captured, well, I'm not sure how long ago. A few days ago I was sent on a mission, I was conducting business and after I finished that on the way back to my ship I was taken captive and woke up here. I'm sorry."

She looked at [member="Cedric Grayson"], thankful to be rescued she walked out of the cage, but didn't run out like the others.

"Do you have any ideas?"

Blind from birth, her only sight was through the Force, so couldn't tell if it was light or dark outside. No clue as to the time of day. She only felt the fact she was extremely thirsty.

 

[Vishkar]

Dominion Medical Base Camp, Bimmiel​

​

The Ithorian moved from one tent to the next, checking up on the medical personnel that required as much attention as possible. His newfound abilities in the force were still minute, but his connection had been acquired after years of travelling across the galaxy. But the recent mission to Irn, where he met his new allies in the Dominion, changed everything, for his newfound powers in the force were beginning to develop.

Now [member="Cedric Grayson"] 's Apprentice, despite the great difference in age, the Ithorian served as a medic for the Dominion's suffering masses of soldiers that were returning to the camp wounded and in critical condition. He could feel their pain, and could feel how much suffering was felt on the planet during this dark war. He looked over every single wounded man and woman that lay in pain, and gave what medical help he could to aide the staff.

He wondered how Master Cedric was dealing on his end...

[member="Judas Foster"] [member="Grace Darkson"] @Jairdain

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Post: [03/20]

It was a battle like all the rest. Blood, gore, people screaming and dying each and every way possible. The reptoid and Yuuzhan Vong troops that had trailed him into combat had now began their methodic advance to catch the defenders between a wall and a hard place.

He became a whirlwind of destruction. Charging into their ranks with sword and shield brandished. Amphistaffs lunged and spat at their eyes while the charging brute of a man viciously swung his poisoned blade with all of his might and fury, carving through them like a hot knife through butter. Evisceration.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Shorarri]

Shorarri had a large bundle of gauze within his arms. They were coated in bacta and the Wookiee had been racing between tents to administer the rags all day. He did not have much know how in the way of medical treatment. But, it was relatively easy to simply rap a rag around a cut or blaster mark.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Post 4

The Force shall free me

"How long have you been here?" Grace called the question from across the room as she freed what seemed to be the last prisoner. Shaking her head as he ran out, her legs carried her to the pair. Frowning, she paused behind Cedric, seeming lost in though. Her mind brushed against [member="Jairdain"]'s for a brief moment. Whether the Jedi would even notice was another story. A frown crossed her face, and she seemed genuinely confused. Hmm. Yellow-grey eyes flickered across the woman's face before something seemed to click. Of course. most had been here for a while, she was pretty sure they had looked thin as rails when they left. It took her a few moments as she fiddled with a few containers on her belt, but she managed to produce a protein bar and a small canteen of water and offer them to the girl.

"Probably been a while."

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iutk9u1yNYo​

The Archlord was a statue as the woman spoke. The only sign that he might have been paying any kind of attention came from the slight tilt of his head and the vague nodding notion he gave in reply. Plate-bound arms folded about his chest as he appraised the woman.

"Sounds about right. Their general MO is sacrifice, though one can never be sure." He finally replied, his voice low as the ground above them shook. Another volley of artillery had fallen upon the earth somewhere relatively nearby.

The chamber was no longer safe.

"My name is Cedric. These men are mine, and the woman is Grace," he gave Grace a half-nod. "We'll take you up to one of the FOBs and get you situated. It's safer than this place." He added, gesturing toward the stair well with his hand.

"Grace and I can escort you and the rest of the prisoners."

[member="Grace Darkson"], [member="Jairdain"], [member="Judas Foster"]

 

[Riamah]

X

 

[Jairdain]

The voice of another female caught her attention, though she knew others were in the room with her and [member="Cedric Grayson"]. It was only when [member="Grace Darkson"] got close that Jairdain could feel her. She felt the Force touch from the other woman, but didn't do anything about it or try to mentally block, she had nothing to hide. She was too shaken up over her capture and now release. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the woman even though she couldn't physically see her, her face expressed everything. The woman gracefully extended a bar of food and blessed water.

Jairdain took the items gratefully and took a drink as soon as she could. Letting out a sigh of relief, she handed the canteen back nodding her head in thanks.

"I may also be able to help if you want. There's nothing wrong with me."

 

[Grace Darkson]

Post 5

Time will tell.

As the earth rumbled, a small curse escaped Grace's lips. "If this place collapses before everyone's out, I'm going to eviscerate Bartic." Her words were accompanied by a low growl of anger rising in her throat. The room was already close to caving from the strain of the bombardment and rubble, not to mention the weight of the stones that used to be the church. Shaking her head, she pushed the canteen back towards @Jairdain. "Keep it. You'll want it more than I will today." With that, she began to sweep the room, making sure there were no missed cells before returning to the surface.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Dune Rhur]

It was well that Cedric had chosen to free the prisoners. Mercy suited the young Lord as did compassion. Far more than death and vengeance. He was glad to be out of the stink and clamour of battle.

Yet entering the Temple was disquieting all the same. It was clear what these prisoners were intended for. There'd even been a Padawan here. Though why her Masters had sent her alone was beyond Dune.

This was a terrible and dangerous place. No apprentice should've been allowed with a full Jedi. Perhaps his erstwhile With comrades might've found this view soft. He didn't care.

He looked up and around as the building seemed to rumble.

"Perhaps it's time to go, Cedric," he added neutrally "What with the roof likely soon to cave in."

[member="Grace Darkson"] [member="Jairdain"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian observed Cedric leading a cohort of his retinue deep into the dungeons to rescue Prisoners, a dangerous thing considering the earth shattering artillery that pounded through soil and stone alike but he doubted any harm would befall the Archlord or his compatriots. The Arkanian, while interested in dabbling in sorcery, mostly spurned mysticism for more logical based answers to the seemingly magical mysteries for the force. Despite this, he sensed what seemed to be almost like an aura around Cedric, a destiny that would rebuff any permanent harm until he had carried out his intended purpose. Perhaps it was the force.

Perhaps he was just imagining things.

Nevertheless, he whirled around and continued to tear apart the enemy formations with both lightning and saber. He spied out of the corner of his eye, a man wielding sword and shield carving a bloody swath through the enemy, escorted by what appeared to be Yuuzhan Vong; a scant sight in the galaxy since the fall of the One Sith.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]
[member="Judas Foster"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

The parallel of the butcher standing among the undeserved deaths showed itself on this day, for his lust for war knew no bounds. His connection with that of the Force became that of a harbinger of destruction, giving the devil's due as more souls were freed to the calling of the Nether. "I am your freedom, do not attempt to plea or struggle..." A statement given to those that found themselves foolhardy within the Arch-Enemy's cause, but alas they were now reduced to cowards whimpering and trying to flee the death that would find them.

"You do not understand death... BUT I WILL SHOW YOU!" Charging down a group of the cultists that held steadfast, the dark warrior skewered one and ripped upward through the top of his skull, letting the two halves peel away like ripened fruit. Rage blossomed into the air, the Dark Side drawing from the puny zealotry that these knaves prided themselves in. Nothing more than a joke.

"DO NOT RUN!" Reaching out through the Force, Abraxas shot out a torrent of lightning, arcing around several victims until they were nothing more than piles of charred flesh. Black smoke contrasted the skies, and the blood that layered the ground was evidence enough that these foes held no merit to the ferocity of the once executioner.

"Pathetic..."

Abraxas marched on boldly, searching for more to collect the debt of incompetence from.

[member="Vorian Adasca"] | [member="Judas Foster"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Post: [05/20]

The warriors that followed him into battle were not great in number. Most of them were defectors of the old Yun'do Legion or various other elite units. Some had opted to continue following the man because he sought out the strongest foes to clash his blade against while others simply felt that they hadn't lost this war yet. Whatever their reason for being there, they continued to fulfill their sole purpose in life: bring about pain and destruction. A violent people they were, people Judas could reason with without using words.

The black dog snarled loudly, urging his warriors forward. The magnus' blade was seeped in dark crimson. The shield hummed and groaned; every once in a while the former Lord would stoop to allow the dragon's heads or the amphistaffs to eat their fill, to consume as much as they wanted from the Arch-Enemy's fallen. It was a vicious cycle of fire and death, only to be replenished by eating their enemy's dead.

"Forward!" He growled, "I will join you later!"

He'd long since noticed those blobs of light, dark, and gray. They swirled around him as they too engaged in close combat.

Yet only one of them stood out to him: the one that had convinced him to stay. Grayson.

And so, he moved towards the man and his compatriots.

[member="Abraxas"], [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Cedric Grayson"], [member="Grace Darkson"], [member="Jairdain"]

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

Now in full charge the Gen'dai fell into a type of battle rage. Could he still feel pain!? The crackling of lightning against his chest plate had slowly caused it to glow light orange. It was hot!. Underneath his flesh was regenerating very quickly from the burning wounds. In a flash of arcing light he felt a lightsaber cut through his utter most bottom portion, His knees. Managing to take little steps Saverok fell back with both his legs cut off. Putting a hand in the current of the lightning he cried out.

"Stop! Make it stop!" Slowly he retreated back with a crawl and grit his teeth.

[member="Darth Rage"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Vorian was not a man fond of war. War was a garrulous creature, a glutton truly. One that tended to end up at your doorstep, charming with all the possibilities of conquest and subjugation, only to outstay his welcome at the dinner table, men and material alike disappearing in obscene qualities down it's endless gullet.

The Arkanian found himself lost, surrounded by the dead of both the cultists and Stormtroopers. He squinted, and attempted to find his way back to his allies.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"You make a pretty good point."

The dungeon around them was beginning to collapse in on itself. Cedric motioned toward his allies to follow. He ushered them all out one by one, making a point to be the last man out just as the tunnel began to truly collapse. A shorty jog would bring them to safety, or rather the closest thing to it in this hellscape.

"Alright," the Archlord drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling violently with the exertion. The FOB was not particularly far, and it was here that the captive within the temple were being treated by Dominion med-techs before being moved further back from the lines.

"Escaped that, looks like the enemy is breaking too," he reached up to remove his mask and drew in a deep breath. "All things considered, the battle is going rather well. May be time to get to the spearhead at Gravlex soon," he waved a hand about. "Master Dune, could you help our friend here get acquainted with the med-techs - unless she wanted to join us?"

His gaze drifted to [member="Grace Darkson"], then the approaching figure of [member="Judas Foster"]. "A shuttle should come for us shortly."

[member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Dune Rhur"], [member="Jairdain"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Post 6

Time will tell.

A low scowl crossed her face as the Sith counted the prisoners leaving the tunnel with them. 17. Seventeen souls to be used for experimentation and sacrifice to the void. Did these cultists even understand what they worshiped? Or were they simply following honeyed words and empty promises of power? And these innocents, who's only sin was setting foot on the wrong world? Part of her wondered why sacrificing sentients was necessary. Maybe she'd ask the Archlord. He seemed to understand more about their enemies and the Abyss than she did. A thought for another time.

"You're dehydrated and malnourished," She spoke, directed at [member="Jairdain"]. Narrow eyes turned to the young Jedi. "You need to regain your strength."

As the freed sacrifices were tended to my medics and doctors, the woman stared at the remains of a dead cultist nearby. Pushing him over with the tip of her boot, she studied his face. He didn't look too different than the little brother she used to have, or at least what she imagined he looked like. What had become of her family after they left her behind? What had become of little David?

She pushed the question out of her head, forcing herself away from the blaster-scarred corpse. She nodded a reply to [member="Cedric Grayson"].

"Right. More cultists."