We Come For Booty (Dominion Dom of Chiloon Rift and Irn)

[Bhakt Wemk]

Bhakt pratically groaned as yet another person appeared from the forest.

"Damn it, is it hide and seek day on this planent."

The Nikto readied his ax though if the this new person meant any harm he'd have probably attacked already. This new comer reeked of the darkside, Bhakt felt it even standing several feet away from the man.

"You know this guy Cedric? Looks sith to me."

He kept an eye on Abraxas, but something to the north drew his attention. Whatever taint was affecting the forest was growing stronger. The needed to settle this and move to investigate it as soon as possible.

[member="Varus Shatterstar"] - [member="Cedric Grayson"] - [member="Ra'a'mah"] - [member="Vishkar"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

{10}
{Location: Chiloon Rift}
{Objective: Engage the Pirates.}
{Allies: Shorarri Bartic Myth'rand}


Pirates, a sloppy bunch lacking the military discipline to stand against real soldiers. The hall skirmish was far from a challenge, once three or four of the pirates had been dispatched the rest retreated deeper into the base. As the last blaster fire was discharged from Zaz's rifle he lowered the weapon, his eyes peering down the empty hall. His HUD showed no more enemies in his view so his attention was turned back towards his men. As their training suggested they were able of handling themselves expertly, especially against untrained crooks.

Most were refitting and rearming themselves, one or two nursed minor wounds. "Wounded move to the back, let's go." Zaz commanded, leading his squad down the halls once again. There was a loud explosion that rang through out the base, causing Zaz to glance up towards the ceiling. The lights gave a brief flicker but only moments later they were settled once again. "This is getting fun." Zaz stated, his helmet covering a smirk.

 

[Riamah]

They hadn't even moved when the sound of a creature being killed and its murderer comes out of hiding. This one Ra had not felt, but was pretty confident it had caused that tree fall not long ago since it was near here that it had happened.

Not really feeling comfortable in its presence, Ra fingered one of the knives up her sleeve, but didn't draw her blade.

"All of this is distracting us from our purpose."

She looked at Cedric and lifted one of her eyebrows at the young man. He was the one in charge here and she would follow his directions, but the disturbance needed to be dealt with. Maybe it was throwing these situations at them to keep them from achieving their goal.

 

[Klesta]

Location: Irn
Objective: Pirate problem
Allies: Dominion
Enemies: Pirates
Post: 6/25

The Luminole was quite different from other ships in its size class: instead of the ship being longer than it is wide, as was the case on most warships, it was wider than it was long. As such, flanking it may not have been the most efective tactic, but Julie realized that repeated attacks by what amounts to gunships or picket corvettes forced the enemy to focus on the carrier's escorts. Julie may have thought that, while the carrier's escorts are more vulnerable, the corvette targeted by Yula and her wingmen is exploding soon after they launched the missiles at it. But, in front of them, were two picket corvettes: they appear to be killable with one well-placed volley of heavy proton rockets. With HVC fire, they have to soften up the target first before the squadron comes into the envelope range that is optimal to flank picket corvettes with. Which is always going to be greater than in a stern chase but shorter than in a head-on attack: it seems that each end of the envelope would be something like A-B cos x (with A > B ), where x is the angle of the attacker's flight direction with the target's direction of flight.

"Porkins, take your flight and engage the picket corvette"

"Copy that, Sith Hunter Actual"

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

Mateus (Mateus-class fleet carrier) light shield damage
Luminex (C-9980-class assault frigate) heavy shield damage
Luminole (C-9980-class assault frigate) light hull damage

Attack craft:

9 Yutan fighter-bombers
55 TIE Advanced X1s
28 TIE Reavers

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Pirates. How... was the word 'amusing'? Maybe something like 'saddening,' or 'jejune'. The constant reminder that their existed this scum-ridden underclass, thrashing desperately for petty power of the sort that only someone of their few means and ignobility could acquire. Poor stock, poor upbringing, and just poor life in general. The only thing that was more depressing than their existence was the fact that one such as himself was necessary to rectify these souls' existence.

The newly christened 'Darth Vesper' grimaced. The motion of his new cybernetics was harsh, unnatural. It strained and was sore, and it felt like there was a disconnect between thought and action, a vital half-second that irked him just ever so slightly.

Peering through the visor of his mask -- smooth and featureless, like a spacesuit, he caught sight of the enemy. Lightning arced between his fingertips as he continued to lumber forwards, his motions awkwards, stilted. He had held back for a moment, but it was necessary now for him to do his duty to the Dominion.

"Hail the Archlord." He murmured wryly. Then, he saw the black-clad figure setting about its wanton butchery and set stepping slightly faster. If that was who he thought it was, perhaps this was going to be more interesting than he had first thought.

| [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Bhakt Wemk"] | [member="Varus Shatterstar"] |

 

[Vishkar]

The Ithorian felt uneasr. Very Uneasy.

It was as if these people were coming from out of nowhere, like the dark forces that were being held by the forest was attracting the attention they did not need.

The force, it seemed, worked in mysterious ways.

Vishkar looked about carefuly amidst their conversations, not being able to contribute as he himself couldn't speak for a group that he had just met. He felt the blaster by his side warily, not wanting to have to use it. It was terrible that he had such a weapon in the first place.

As he listened to the newcomers carefully, he looked off into the distance where the clans were. He hoped they would be able to discuss with them the purpose of their coming and make peace with the planet. For war was the last thing they all needed again.

He hoped his new allies were the peacekeepers they claimed to be, for their weapons all suggested otherwise.

[member="Antherion"] | @Ra'a'mah | [member="Bhakt Wemk"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Varus Shatterstar"] | [member="Abraxas"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

"Death and I have a bit of an odd relationship, Cedirc. Your company certainly hasn't changed." The armor clad man peered at the rest of the entourage, then giving his full attention back to the boy. "Dread seed? So that's what this is... that would explain the wildlife." At the heart of the matter, Abraxas had been dealing with an odd mortal concept that had not yet, in any of his lifetimes, dawned on him. He was sick, sick with something he didn't understand nor pay much attention to, yet it brought him pain and anguish that he hid well. Even for a man who lived as a Sith all his life.

But then, a familiar presence revealed itself. One not felt since a more... heated confrontation.

Abraxas turned upon hearing the newcomer's voice, and lo and behold, it was the very same [member="Antherion"] of the past. Grimacing behind his helmet, Abraxas fell silent, almost having half the mind to reach for his lightsabre. This darkness in the air, twisting the land and life, was having a subtle effect on the once warrior of the God-King's throne.

"Whatever is ailing this planet, it must be cut out and destroyed. We should get a move on."

[member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Bhakt Wemk"] | [member="Varus Shatterstar"] | [member="Vishkar"]

 

[Klesta]

Location: Irn
Objective: Pirate problem
Allies: Dominion
Enemies: Pirates
Post: 7/25

The pirate picket corvettes were flanked on one side and, understandably, they had to focus on both the fighters attacking and the missiles; for the most part, they chose the missiles. With Julie's battle meditation kicking in, the enemy morale began to falter: they were nearly completely wiped out right here, with multiple explosions engulfing their capital ships, like a few frigates, a few picket corvettes. No longer shall the pirates plague Irn; once again, Sith efficiency and ruthlessness won the day here, she thought, while being reminded that Sith-hood is not an excuse for evil (and probably the reason why she even betrayed the Sith Order back then). But now there needed to be some way to finish off the enemy fleet of pirates. Like those picket corvettes engaged earlier: there might be some weak spot on those ships that they didn't exploit and yet be able to fire one proton rocket at it apiece. Such as those humongous engines! Which prompts the squadrons to approach the enemy in a stern chase, meaning that they have to fire the rockets at short ranges, perhaps even point-blank.

"The enemy is breaking off! Approach the target in a stern chase: that will teach them to mess with the Dominion navy"

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

Mateus (Mateus-class fleet carrier) moderate shield damage
Luminex (C-9980-class assault frigate) heavy shield damage
Luminole (C-9980-class assault frigate) light hull damage

Attack craft:

9 Yutan fighter-bombers
51 TIE Advanced X1s
26 TIE Reavers

 

[Bhakt Wemk]

So another person was set to join them. That suited the the Nikto fine, he just wished Abraxas didn't reek of the Darkside.

"Well I agree we need to get moving. I can feel that dread seed growing stronger every second we waste with these meet and greets"

The Nikto turned and got the men to move up. Whatever waited them he could it would be revealed just over the next hill. As he walked he looked down and realized his knuckles where white from the Grip he had on his vibroax. This dread seed had Bhakt a bit spooked, but when the time came he'd be ready to face it down. He knew whatever darkness it held wouldn't sway him...at least he hoped it wouldn't.

[member="Abraxas"] - [member="Vishkar"] - [member="Antherion"] - [member="Ra'a'mah"] - [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Vesper inhaled, a sound like hollow metal rattling around inside his throat. The party was nearly over even as he had arrived, but he had arrived in time to make his case to the Archlord and those assembled — that was what mattered. He had initially been planning on spending the time working with his Senatorial delegation, but the moment it had been confirmed that it was indeed a 'Dread Seed,' he had traveled as fast as he could in his interceptor.

He stepped up with more vigor than the former 'Darth Eversor' would have remembered, his cybernetic muscle fibers doing their painful work. It was strange. To walk again, to move with vigor again. He could get used to it. Quickly, he fell in line with the others as they proceeded forwards, paying no mind to the blood he was trekking through. Keeping with the urgency, if anything sharing in it more than the others might, he pushed through and forwards.

"What you all are calling a Dread Seed is likely a Seed of Rage... an artifact of Lord Fulminiss, a man whose works I studied. I believe I can force it into dormancy, where we can move to storage of the object to Oricon." His voice was artificial, with a bizarre overlay of several voices speaking at once: a strikingly low-pitched baritone, a feminine soprano, and a melodically artificial synthtone. "We must take it in for study. It can be safely transported, and holds far greater value intact."

"Also... Abraxas now, is it? My pleasure to also be a part of the Dominion. I will most definitely want to speak with you later."

| [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Bhakt Wemk"] | [member="Varus Shatterstar"] | [member="Vishkar"] |

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"That is what I suspect, yes," Cedric muttered in agreement with Antherion. The man was one that Cedric was learning to keep a close eye on, but his value was rather obvious. There were few that dabbled in the Dark Side to such a degree within the Dominion - his insights was useful.

"You're right Ra. Let's move. We can talk about all this later." The Archlord waved a hand.

The trek that followed would be a short one. The heart of the forest lingered within a shallow cave, one left entirely unguarded. Dark veins of corruption spread through the earth to the trees all around, climbing up their branches and ending in the fronds of their leaves.

At the center of the cave, a light red like murder pulsated. Crystals jutted out from every corner of the cave itself, and all were filled with similar veins. The red-guard pressed forward near the lip of the cave, and finding nothing more than a sense of unease, waved the group forward.

The object of their interest lingered within the confines of the earth at the center of the cavern. It was there that the veins met their roots.

"Does this match the description of your seeds?" Cedric asked of Antherion, curious.

[member="Antherion"], [member="Abraxas"], [member="Bhakt Wemk"], [member="Varus Shatterstar"], [member="Vishkar"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Vesper tapped his helm with a finger, tilting his head as he pondered. I never would have expected it to so easily physically intertwine with its surroundings...

"The shape of the object, the nature of the corruption... This is --" Glorious. "--yes, this is the monstrosity we seek."

His approach was at a measured, cautious pace, stretching out a hand as if to touch it, but holding it back. The most striking thing about it was the profound sense of anger it radiated. He could feel it, an echo of what burned in his soul, a whisper in his ear. For all the thousands of years that must have passed between the designing and the deployment of this object, it had little wear, its form equally jagged and elegant.

"Now then..." Stretching out a hand, Darth Vesper placed it against the seed. There was a steamy hiss, and a brief shuddering. The tightly-focused shockwave of telekinetic Force splintered the roots and the veins, shattering its connection to the ground. For a moment, it floated there, but Vesper quickly brought it close to himself, cradling it as one might a child. "I don't recommend anyone not confident in their power to shield their mind hold this. We need to get it to some form of stasis field where it can be kept without being in contact with any solid objects, or it will begin to take root again."

He spoke with a brusque sort of lack of concern, but his eyes darted behind his mask as he sized up the intentions of those around him, watchful of any who might try to rip it away or destroy it. A precious relic like this could not be allowed to go broken.

| [member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Abraxas"] | [member="Bhakt Wemk"] | [member="Varus Shatterstar"] | [member="Vishkar"] |

 

[Riamah]

After the brief attack of the creatures and the addition of a few others to their party, the rest of the journey was quite if a bit stressed. The conflicting ideologies buried under the combined objective of securing or cleansing this darkness.

They quickly reached the heart of the corruption and one of the new comers reached out and ever so gently picked up whatever it was. [member="Cedric Grayson"] had called it a Dread Seed and apparently [member="Antherion"] thought so as well.

Almost before the seed was picked up, Ra had one of her knives out and ready to stop the man from leaving with the seed. Her movement was fast, natural and the sharp point of her blade inches from his side.

"Don't think about taking that and disappearing."

Her voice was firm and in command, her eyes a sparking gold shining in the red light of the heart. Ra face was half in shadow, the other lighted from the outside. It foreshadowed where her path could go and Ra was oblivious to the light touch of the dark heart on her.

[member="Bhakt Wemk"]

 

[Boethiah]

At the edge of the rift, hidden by nebulae and scattered asteroid clusters, a small fleet of starships drop from hyperspace...

Their signals scrambled by the various noise and debris the rift provides has allowed starships to remain nigh undetectable at a range. A great benefit to pirates to say the least who often roam these stars in search of prey, usually from the mining fleets which harvest the vast resources available.
Deep and central within the hull of a single ship, Boethiah stood surrounded by high priests and other zealots.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The woman's fingers clack against the hilt of her imbued blade. "Try to concentrate, Your Worship." One priest whispers the words as he knelt by her side. Closing her eyes Boethiah imagined the stars as Nogras intended them to be, envisioning a galaxy afire; brought alive by forces seeping from the great maw. An abyssal gate of nothingness. Her eye lids close tightly, causing small objects--artifacts and idols--to shake in place before settling moments later.

Her eyes open. "I have control..." The witch mutters, before departing.

She walks the corridors to the interior temple where those aboard have gathered, although others are already elsehwere in the rift or have chosen the comfort of their own vessels....

[member="Allara Ven"] | [member="Antherion"] | [member="Aria Vale"] | [member="Auswyn Nothrael"] | [member="Cady"] | [member="Creepella"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Rage"] | [member="Evaelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Fatty"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Khaldun"] | [member="Lady Death"] | [member="Lethia Morow"] | [member="Logan"] | [member="Loxa Visl"] | [member="Moravian Zambrano"] | [member="Nick Imura"] | [member="Orkamaat"] | [member="Pravus Zambrano"] | [member="Rook"] | [member="Satia"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Thor"] | [member="Warok the Defiler"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

The air was wrought with decadence, the very seed that [member="Antherion"] spoke of almost felt like it was calling out to those that would listen. Each step taken was an intimacy that could not be matched, the Dark Side swelled within both Abraxas' ego as well as his own power. This was something not felt in some time, and the eagerness of it all was digging into his skull and heart.

"Agreed." the warrior nodded at his Sith counterpart. His gaze feel upon the seed longingly, almost half-tempted to reach out and acknowledge its very existence. But there could be no such interaction, as there would be no telling how crazed the Sith defector might become, how zealously he would demand its tangible mass be in his arms. This was sheer insanity at worst, and the most euphoric high at best.

"I would advise to anyone here that they not spend too long with it, else they desire to be lusting over corruption in a pure state."

Abraxas turned away and distanced himself, putting his hand against a tree as he gathered his thoughts.

The will to become the monster of the past was rearing its ugly head. Be strong, do not falter.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

~Later~​

​

They were nearing their ships, preparing to depart. The Seed of Rage was in containment, and the Dominion was, by and large, making the usual motions. Vesper was lingering, however. Something was... off. He sensed a familiar presence hanging over the system, a familiar shadow. The darkness was a welcome thing, but this was moving with a speed he had not expected, with a certain decisive totality that was underscored by relentless hunger.

"They're... here."

Was this coincidence? Did such a thing exist? The pieces were coming together, and he was caught in the middle. He could feel it. Either the initiates of the false gods and hollow saints would be his enemies, or the ever-growing empire of democracy.

He had been warned. There were ripples in the Force, Cedric said, and he had shown him, and he had seen what was hidden in the libraries of Lorrd was the supposed Archenemy, and he had been shown by the fur-ridden monster and the prophetess of the rise of new gods, the hidden revelations of beings that lurked beyond the veil of reality. Two sides of one coin: one man saw a worthy path of conquest, one woman saw beings worthy of worship.

What did he see? Ripples underneath the surface of the water, shadows cast by shadows. He saw mists hiding secrets, and his eyes were always looking for one thing: a way out. Where was this way out?

So he returned, trekked a path back to the cave where the Seed of Rage had been planted, and he waited at that pulsating heart of darkness. It would be a long time before the lingering taint of this was purged, and the anger still swelled strong within it. There was possibility here, and energies that could be bent to enterprising wills, so he knelt in meditation, waiting for their arrival. He knew that they would find their way to him.

In this Galaxy, would he ever need to hunt anything down? All he needed to do was ask, and he received.

| [member="Moravian Zambrano"] | [member="The Rusted Queen"] | [member="Boethiah"] | [member="Lethia Morow"] |

 

[Darth Athora]

A lone acolyte walked down the corridor towards where his room was situated. He was young and frail. Poor boy appeared he hadn't eaten in days. His dark robes covered much of his malnourished body. He came to a stop as he was in front of the door to his room. He pushed the door open and closed it behind him. The room was pitch black and dead silent for a moment then he flicked the switch that turned the lights on. He turned to look at his bed and a scarlet haired woman wearing black leather was sitting on his bed looking him in his pale eyes. "Welcome home." she said to him as she raised herself off the bed and walked over to him. The clicking of her heels filled the room as she approached him. He looked up to her as her heels made her a few inches taller than him. She gently placed her hands on his cheeks ad planted a kiss upon his lips. "I've missed you, my dear."

- 10 minutes later -

A knock came on the door. A priestess entered to see Cadyssia leeching the young acolyte's essence. The boy's lifeless body dropped to the floor with a light thud. "Find peace in the embrace of the Unmaker.." Cadyssia looked at the priestess with a grin on her face. "Is it time?" The priestess had a look of fear on her face as she struggled to nod her head. "Excellent." Cadyssia left the body behind as she left the room and began to roam the halls of the interior temple where [member="Boethiah"] was as well.

 

[Garza]

Leaning up against the wall, I could feel my apprentice walk into the room. We were residing within the temple of the very ship that carried our Worship. The being who would be our connection to the Gods. Kinta walked into the room, looking around to find me, and then proceeded to walk over. She carried with her, the tools of her trade. A double bladed lightsaber, her robbed armor, and a secondary sword I gave her. Storm. My old katana before it was replaced with my current one. Kept clean, and refurbished to fit her frame, and stature, the katana was a weapon I wanted her to learn how to use. So she would likely draw upon that weapon first, before using her lightsaber.

She reached out and touched my chest. Exposed, and scarred from wounds of my past, her soft skin placed gently on the center.

"Fighting usually requires armor."
"Says the woman who wears less than myself."
"I am nimble. You are old."
"Watch your tone. My age is only a number to me."
"Then you should know to wear armor."
"It's not my heritage, nor a necessity. For me, I require the force, and my sword."

Stubborn? Yes. Very much so. However, I was not one who did something for no reason. I had them, only I didn't share my reasons with everyone. I enjoyed pain. I used it to fuel me. If I needed pain to fuel me, then someone slashing at my chest, or stomach will aid it. Yes, I could get myself killed, but it was a risk I was willing to take.

As we finished, I could see the body of a child enter the room. Our Worship entered. Her body may be small in stature compared to myself, she may seem young, but her mind was powerful and wise beyond her years. Yet, everyone still had room to learn. Standing up straight, I closed the distance between us with a few steps as everyone else did. Stepping forward to hear the words, and the will of our gods.

[member="Antherion"], [member="Abraxas"], @Boethiah

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave idled where he had been for the entirety of the trip. Legs crossed, head back, eyes closed as he day dreamed of whatever memories he dwelt on for that inconspicuous moment, the next filled by the thought of tomorrow. Equations he’s forced himself to learn, going back over the training he’d done with his blade and the lessons taught to him by Bestria. All of it review, but practice made perfect; even for a drug fueled fiend such as him.

He sighed, sitting up to glance around the area. The group had begun to funnel into the room, waiting for the words of the Dark Messiah herself, a curiously powerful oddity that led a force with an insatiable hunger. Her dominance was curious, yet her power unquestionable. Whatever allowed her to be in her position was intoxicating in the scholarly sense, stroking the curious parts of his brain like few others could.

It demanded his interest if nothing else.

He patiently waited, watching as each of the Primeval’s agents came into the room. The powerful ones such as Nick Imura caught his attention first, his eyes only momentarily glazing over his apprentice before moving back to the many others that enter. Understanding who came would at least save him the trouble of being surprised later, especially since he was good at first impressions.

A smile krept on his lips at the thought.

These people were not his allies. Their gods were not his. The weapons they called their own were nothing more than tools for him, but none of that mattered at this moment. He was to assist in whatever means he could out of curiosity, not loyalty. He wanted to see what they would do…
What would a Crusade of Heretics do in a galaxy of sanctimony?

│ [member="Nick Imura"] │ [member="Cady"] │ [member="Antherion"] │ [member="Boethiah"] │

 

[Boethiah]

The spaceborne cathedral drifted amongst the other warships, carrying with it thousands of lives inside its hull.

Where those gathered in the temple, there were but a few of the many. The high priests and disciples, and those with the means of being noticed or lucky enough to have presence. Boethiah looked about the chamber, her eyes acknowledging known figures and taking in new ones as well. She walks up the short steps to where the high priests normally address their faithful, "now is the time to scatter and reclaim the Rift."

Her voice is assisted by an amplifier to carry her words. "There are dangers present... But also relics of kind. The previous Host had summoned a display of power in the Rift, and that power remains." She is of course talking about the war machine that the Primeval had constructed some time ago, in a location that served as the heart of their movement.

Although Bastion had been the de facto capital--where the Host Lord resided--it was the Chiloon Rift where they gathered fleets and power, and launched their assaults against those who stood in their way.

"Shuttles in the hangar will you far from this ship; to elsewhere that we may seek to restore what is dormant. Those who remain will join me in search of the foundry." Already the Cathedral-class had redirected itself in the known direction of the Balagoth, a rogue starship now ruled by its A.I. and from which the Rift could be reclaimed... Or at least its guardians.

[member="Nick Imura"] | [member="Cady"] | [member="Antherion"] | [member="The Slave"]