When Nightmares Come True....[The New Order]

[Darth Vulcanus]

​

Darkness had swept across Morellia and its capital. The brisk night air sweeping across the landscape like the cold hand of death sweeping through the city to collect the souls therein. Since the Sith's ownership of this sector of space had ended; Morellia, Mytus and the Pathovian Cluster had created a new commonwealth to help each system restore their own economic balance. Unfortunatly for them, such a thing was proving difficult and their economies were crippling under the weight. Things were beginning to get so bad that lines were forming in the streets for government cheese and bread that only a few thousand of the billions of inhabitants of the planet were lucky enough to get. People had begun to kill one another in the streets for scraps of food not fit enough to be a mouse's meal. Those living on these planets had one hated the Sith, but now that they realized what life was like without them...they were beginning to have second thoughts.

The dream of freedom from tyranny had become a living nightmare and civil war brewed to the brim, some blamed the Republic, some blamed the Sith and some blamed the force just because they didn't know what else to blame. The New Order would show them the light though. The Sith and their loyal soldiers would storm the government buildings with organized cells of anti-government insurgents and force them to resign their rule. Droids would be brought, food and water and luxuries would be handed out to the people and by the time the New Order was finished executing their old leaders, the people would be begging for the return of a true Empire. Already, Imperial Commandos had been sent to do last minute organization with the local resisters and Vulcanus had prepared his Sith warriors.

There would be no grand entrance of star destroyers, not this time at least. Instead, the New Order would enter the system on commercial frigates while inside resisters shut down the Anti-Air batteries surrounding the government district of the capital. When the weapons were down, the freighters would land at or crash into the government buildings and unload their Sith warriors and Stormtroopers. The Morellian Enforcers, the local police and military force, would put up a fight but the Sith would show no quarter.

Vulcanus would lead men into the capital along with his other Dark Circle members. Once inside the capital building, Vulcanus would capture the prime minister of Morellia and publicly denounce the current government. Time was of the essence and many pieces needed to fall into place, but if all went well the New Order would be executing a worthless leader this day and will have gained their ground for the resurgence of the Sith.

Spoiler

[SIZE=8pt][member=Darth Ayra][/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Darth Veles] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Darth Vornskr] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Nick Gamastar] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Rawrg] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Erebus Vivant] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Kerrega] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=stardust] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Vereor] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Ajona] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Break][/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Isley Verd] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member= Tye Kelly] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Melakoth Tyrin] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Horror] [/SIZE]
[SIZE=8pt][member=Kalen Esmara] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=8pt][member=Paega Anginous] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=8pt][member=Maleus] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=8pt][member=Paris111] [/SIZE]


[SIZE=8pt][member=Vincent Jusik][/SIZE]


[SIZE=8pt][member=Trioc \Quickshot/] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Azalus] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Commander Rykal] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Graoth Do’Urden][/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Darth Arcis] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Evicar Angrus Ascendant] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Graxin Rade] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=IC-3471 Logan Harkins] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Ishmael Verd] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Jek’ai Cyin] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Kai-Sin] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Ludolf Vaas] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Shana May] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Sokrai Ronaro] [/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt][member=Solrune][/SIZE]

[SIZE=8pt]

[/SIZE]

 

[Logan Harkins]

Logan sat in the hangar bay of one of the frigates, head to toe in Commando Armor and with a light machine gun in hand. If one could see his expression it was one of the neutrality that he'd become famous among his comrades for. The gun felt heavy in his armored hands. It'd been a long while since the Empire had done any sort of operations on this sort of scale. Today was the beginning. Soon the Empire would rebuild, and inevitably, eventually, Imperial boots would strike at the Republic.

The boots of men like Logan.

Men whom had lost everything to Republic guns.

Remember that anger.

Keep it pure.

"ON YOUR FEET." Logan shouted at his fellow commandos, who did so immediately, towing the line along the hangar's shield and double checking their packs. The Lt's squad of six was tasked with eliminating three of the planet's larger AA guns. The Emperor didn't wholly trust the resistance to get the job done and planned on sending the commandos to insure it was accomplished.

"Heat shields up."

Clicks could be heard as the commandos double checked their armor's capabilities and fiddled with their weapons.

"Rally on me after the drop, head for gun three." Logan said as the Freighter put itself in a strategic location over the guns, one where the troopers wouldn't be killed from the drop distance. Below them the city sprawled into a vast urban battlefield. Reminded him of Dromund Kaas.

Three. Two. One.

Logan launched himself out of the vessel an into a vertical dive towards the first AA gun target. The wind buffeted his armor as he fell at a breakneck speed, the ground rushed closer and closer with every second. The other commandos blinked their acknowledgments and all were accounted for in the small section of his HUD dedicated to tracking them. The parachutes deployed automatically at a height only just above where it would've been a point of no return for any of the commandos. A grunt emerged as the chute yanked roughly on the commando.

Below the planet still had no idea the hell that was about to be visited upon them.

As he grew closer and closer to the towering AA emplacement a few startled guards appeared to be watching the commandos from an elevated railing, obviously confused. Logan opened up on them the moment his HUD locked the correct vectors and he was within range. The Slugthrower LMG spat out 7.62x39 shells at an insane amount of speed, ripping through the guards within range and sending those out of range cowering for cover. Blood and limbs stained the surface of the Battery's top. The impact jarred The commando as he slammed into the hard durasteel cover. After a moment of recovery the slugthrower continued it's relentless spitting of rounds at the hapless planetary defense force soldiers, wiping them from the face of the galaxy.

Logan advanced toward the entrance hatch as his fellow commandos replayed similar scenarios.

 

[Clarke Gabel]

The streets were crowded with those who had nowhere else to sleep but on the cold concrete on which everyone walked. Feet and hands were crushed beneath a thousand civilian boots and shoes in broad daylight, but no one bothered to help those who could evidently not help themselves. Some rumours had begun to spread of ‘bodysnatchers’: abducting the homeless in the night and cutting them to sell off as affordable and cheap meat. No one complained, even if they found a fingernail or plastic ring (used to symbolise a metal wedding band that had been sold).
No one escaped these dark days. Not even military officers.

Clarke had been on leave for two weeks by this point; he had heard that the naval administration could not afford to keep him in service, just like many others he had once served with. Other captains and even admirals had been kicked out into the cold, getting darker and hungrier. Of course military leave in the Commonwealth had been reformed to become unpaid back when this economic crisis had started to take its toll.
He wandered the streets in casual clothing, dirty and torn – much like the rest of the citizens today – looking for something worth finding: a job, some food, somewhere to stay.

Today was going to be different, someone near him had more-or-less shouted in the street. Today was going to herald a change for the better, for all the Morellian people. Everyone ignored that someone. He was obviously crazy.

[member=Darth Vulcanus] [member=IC-3471 Logan Harkins]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Along with the others, the freighter broke the atmosphere and began a rapid descent into the capital city down below. Lord Vornskr sat in the cargo hold, buckled into the safety harness at the far wall. Around him were members of the feared Blackblade Praetorian Guard, clad in a full set of phrik battle armor painted a dark crimson, splitting them apart from the other Blackblade soldiers as the best of the best. The veterans of many wars, and the butchers of Mandalorians, Republic, and Protectorate alike. They were armed with one BTI-CC13 Blaster Rifle each, and some had even opted to carry a BTI-WB "Woebringer' Heavy Blaster Pistol at their hip. Right now both weapons were securely fastened to their armor, and they wielded large lightsaber pikes in their right hand, and an energy shield in their left. They wore their helmets, but even without them they would cast the same stoic, blank stare at whatever they looked at. They were forbidden to show emotion in every situation, including combat, merciless in their task and utterly without mercy or remorse for their actions. They would do as their Lord commanded them to do, and would not stray from the path.

Vornskr gently picked up his battle helmet, a fierce looking helm made of phrik and adorned with a visage meant to inspire fear into his enemies. He slowly slid it over his head, and sealed it into place. The HUD started up with a quiet whir, and his surroundings returned soon enough. He cycled through his visions, normal, infrared, and ultraviolet, and when that was all in order he synced up with his Praetorian Guards and prepared for impact. A violent shudder shook the freighter as it crash landed down in the middle of a square, absolutely ravaging the fountain that once dominated it's center and sending chunks of debris flying in all directions. Vornskr unbuckled and followed his Praetorian Guard to the hatch, which began to open shortly after to reveal the dim and desolate square filled with wretched vermin and shocked police officials. Without a word, the Praetorian Guards sprung into action, closing the distance to the Police in quick strides and carving them up like raw meat with their lightsaber pikes.

That act of violence sent the citizens fleeing in fear, but the Praetorian did not give chase. Their orders were to not harm the civilians, unless absolute provoked, only to ruthlessly cut down any militia or government enforcers they came across. With their superior weapons, armor, and training, there was no doubt in Vornskr's mind this operation would be trivial at best. He activated the locator on his wrist, and signaled to Vulcanus that he was in position.


[member="Darth Vulcanus"] [member="Clarke Gabel"] [member="IC-3471 Logan Harkins"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Morellia. What a disgusting planet. People starving on the streets, killing one another. This was what happened with the Jedi 'saved' them? They came in, killed the Empire off, and left the civilians to rot. Krest stood beside his master [member="Darth Vulcanus"] , a rageful tinge to his almost now white eyes. Below him as all rot. All trash that hardly deserved the title of sentient. His form was enveloped in black, in a new set of armor made to symbolize his devotion to the dark side. He spoke out softly in his now raspy voice, quickly as possible. Talking itself hurt, so there was no reason to fill his sentences with pointless additions.

"This is what happened when the Jedi 'liberated' them? When do we kill those in charge?" Two questions. Each answer would only steel the Zabrak's resolve in this matter. Today the Enforcer would assist his Master in bringing piece. His hand gripped the hilt of Deus as if he was going to need the blade then and there. In truth he was just angry. Angry at the treatment of people, no matter how lesser they truly were. Everyone had a chance to become perfect.

[member="Clarke Gabel"] [member="IC-3471 Logan Harkins"] [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

"Have a hangover...-" The words were sung softly under the boy's breath. It passed the time.

He stood in the city's capital building, the center of government on this accursed planet. [member="Darth Vulcanus"] had sent him two months earlier to spur a revolution, so-to-speak. Graxin had been a busy little bee.

Word was spreading of Imperial forces entering the city--something about a ship shattering the central square--and effectively liberating it. Or perhaps they were simply
taking control. Graxin could really care less.

He had wormed his way into a cheap governmental job. A personal assistant for a rather lonely middle aged woman working in logistics. Logistics wasn't exactly important, but it had gotten the charismatic young man in, and that was all it needed to do.

Slowly, he had sown the seeds of revolution. The government was failing, their leaders keeping all the food for themselves. It hasn't taken much, the city was in a horrible state of disrepair.

Now, he stood next to the logistics woman and a few other equal minded individuals. His hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he stared over the schematics for the capital building. It was big, he'd give them that.

"Hear that? That's our boys coming to save your shebs." He grunted in slightly warbled basic. His coconspirators stared in silence, awaiting direction.

Graxin shrugged, gloved fingers thumbing through the cloth of his black jacket to feel a familiar weight. The DL rifle was still where it should be, along with the emergency vibroblade.

"They're going to secure the city. You're going to contact those little cells we've worked hard to it together." He jabbed a finger at a portly Twi'lek man. "And we're going to secure the building for Darth Vulcanus an co'. Any questions?"

It was all silence for a moment, and Graxin thought they may have had some competence--that is, until the Twi-Lek spoke. "The guards will open fire on us. What do we do?"

Graxin's expression fell for a moment. He stared at the green skinned alien in silence for a long moment. "You...shoot back at them? We can use you for a shield if you want." A muffled gasp came from the assembled group. "Just a suggestion."

Graxin reached up to run a hand over his short hair and turned toward the door. It slid open with a faint sigh, revealing a room full of panicking officials and security doing their absolute best to secure the room.

He strode right in as the Twi-Lek began to make his calls: the terrorist cells would begin assisting Imperial Forces the best they could around the city.

He crossed to the center of the central room as other rebels made their way toward the elevators. A hand went up to his ear as he opened a channel to [member="Darth Vulcanus"].
"We're green, father. A few minutes and the capital should be secure. If not, then we'll at least have them boxed in."

He grinned, big and wide as the security shutters closed over doors and windows. It was intended to keep people out, ironic as that was.

The comm remained faintly open as he withdrew the DL rifle, unseen amidst the chaos. The sound of the powerful rifle rattling had everyone dropping toward the floor; two of which had burning holes in their security uniforms. Graxin's new allies followed suite, opening up on the armed security.

"Against the wall! You move, we shoot, understood?!"

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Krest"] [member="Darth Vornskr"]

Indeed, the city was in shambles and the mighty fist of the New Order was here to crush the pitiful leadership into dust. Vulcanus was currently aboard a freighter with his Enforcer. Vulcanus, Vornskr and Arcis would sweep the molten fist of the Sith through this world and eliminate all those who would hold back the perfect evolution of this planet. Perfection awaited these people and through that, Vulcanus would create a perfect race of loyal and perfectly balanced slaves that would serve the Sith and Graug well. "Soon, my enforcer...soon." the beast replied, his face slowly crumbling away further under his armor. "The Sith's might will shake the surface of this planet like a great earthquake and they shall know true power."

Glancing around at the Sith that filled the freighter, Vulcanus began to reach into his mind and focus on the hate and despair coming from this world. The emotions of the weak were working to fuel his own power, and he loved every second of it. The Darkside was quickly becoming and addiction to the Dark Lord and every time he got a taste of it, he burned to spread more just so he could feel the slight differences from place to place and person to person. As the Sith Lord focused on the concentration of the darkside on planet, a series of beeps got his attention. Looking to his communicator, he noticed that Vornskr had reported into say that he was in position and his 'son' had secured the initial landing area.

"Excellent, the assault is beginning now" Vulcanus said through his communicator, to both his 'son' and Kaine.

Looking to Krest, the beast nodded and the frighten pilot speed the ship up and then it punched through the ceiling of the capital building and came to a grinding stop within....

 

[Darth Narakada]

Narakada stood silently in the ship, not having anything to say during the ride. He stood in a corner where the shadows veiled him and let him listen without others really knowing he was there. Though he was still locked away deep within the fiery depths of Mustafar. Nar'Vash had heard of the woeful tales of the demise of the Sith, the Sith of the old at least. Today was the done of a new day, a day in which strikes would be made and moves would be taken to reclaim the glory of the Sith before, but make it more flawless. Today was a new beginning to the long road it took to get to peace.

The shuttle buckled as it hit the planet's atmosphere and took on turbulence. The outside world looked bleakly depressing and ravaged from unruly crime that never would have passed if the Sith had still controlled the place. He looked to his master, who was busy with the last minute prep talks and preparing himself.

With saber in hand, the Dathomir, too, readied himself, focusing on the Force and preparing for a good fight. And then the shuttle came to a screeching halt.

They had arrived.

[member="Darth Vulcanus"] | [member="Krest"] |

 

[Placeholder 0123]

My, my, aren't we ones for an entrance?

No one had informed Graxin as to just how flash the plan was. While the Sith's ground agent had been busy rounding up the hall's officials, the Sith themselves had been plummeting right toward the building.

Graxin was thrown clear off his feet as the shuttle careened into the capital building. Marble and durasteel exploded inward as the piercing shriek of metal grinding against metal rose above the sounds of chaos. Luckily, at least to a moral man, the majority of the civilians on the first and second floor had been assembled behind the service counters. They were spare other than a few scrapes and scratches.

Those on the third and fourth level were not so lucky.

Graxin pushed up to his feet, a wracking cough creeping from his throat as he inhaled dust. He took a few moments to indulge the natural reaction before composing himself: getting to his feet, dusting off his coat, and flicking the safety on his rifle.

"You...you...Your PEOPLE CRASHED INTO THE CAPITAL BUILDING!" The Twi'lek from earlier bellowed, pointing an accusatory green finger at the young man.

His fellow rebels exchanged wary glances, but otherwise, kept their watch on the hostages.

"Yeah, it would seem they did. Go make sure the prisoners are nice and spiffy for the dark lord." Graxin ordered, tossing a woefully small denomination credit chip toward the Twi'lek. "And get a new tunic. It doesn't fit a politician."

The Twi'Lek, red faced and blustering, opened his mouth to speak, only to fall silent as Graxin gave him a serious look.

The boy slipped his rifle back into the straps within his coat, effectively hiding the murderous weapon, and went down on one knee as the doors to the shuttle would open. He paid no heed to the glass cutting through fabric and into his kneecap.

"Father, Lords, the first and second floors have been secured. Anything further is likely in shambles...rebel cells stand ready to assist your forces outside as well as within the capital at your words.•

He would stare up at the Sith, expression completely blank. "The governmental heads would likely be upstairs...

There were no snappy remarks added. No smart little quips. Graxin was, as designed, the perfect servant when respect was deserved. His father would always have it, and Krag's associates had it by association.

[member="Darth Narakada"] [member="Darth Vulcanus"] [member="Krest"]

 

[Clarke Gabel]

A whine filled the air unlike the whimpering cries and complaints of the other homeless and jobless; it began as a quiet drone in the sky gradually getting louder and louder until it was all anyone for more than a kilometre could hear. Deep and foreboding, it was the sound of a large freighter falling from the sky. Most seemed to look to the cloudless blue skies, while others did not stop their walk through the streets, over those less fortunate. But all attention was snatched by a crash unlike anything these people had heard before. Rock and stone shattered and people screamed amidst the sound of blaster fire and a distinct hissing.
Clarke, adorned with protective goggles to shield his eyes from the torturous hours of day, ran up a flight of stairs to where smoke plumed into the air and was dragged far by the wind. Others had as much sense as he to do this; to get to higher ground and observe what had happened.

A large square, centred by a fountain, was in turmoil. Of course the fountain was not visible bar the odd pieces of rock strewn atop bodies closest to the crash and the gushing water that turned red as it reached them. The rest of the crowd began to run for cover when red beams of light cut down police officers, but no harm came to those civilians. Not to those who stayed or those who ran away, fearing for their lives. The only harm came to the dismembered bodies of police constables and those who dared to look hostile.
The citizens looked on in fear at those with armour and weapons, luxuries not even the government of Morellia could afford to keep in the last few weeks. With no army to protect them, and constables cut down at every turn, what could save them from being chopped to pieces like a pig in an abattoir?

[member=Darth Vornskr] [member=IC-3471 Logan Harkins] [member=Graxin Rade] [member=Darth Narakada] [member=Darth Vulcanus]

 

[Bria Shadow-Tarkin]

Picking up herself from the ground, more then once. Shouting if to no one but the air, What does those, in charge not have shit for brains. Her mind flashing back to the days of old with her husband Emperor Raven Tarkin. It wasn't like didn't use force when needed to, it was always from looking down to the planet never on the ground like this. Coming to the comer looking both ways then looking upwards not knowing what jack butt would bring their ship down next. Knowing to some her power of telepathy would come into play more later. This was crazy enough, to not want there to be as much blood shed this having her guard up doing what could to knock ones that could feel through the force that would threaten to try and kill her brothers. Walking slowly calming through it all using the force magic with in her finger tips when need. It could only be said that wasn't one for blood on her hands.

Knowing by ruling herself there was other ways that one could take a planet and even rule with a staff and rod. It wasn't as if blood shed wouldn't play a part just not to her tasting. Knowing that would have to get on with out Raven, ways being the hammer her being the one to soft each blow to keep him in line when wanting to totaly loose oneself. It would be the blend of herself in light and darkness that made her the person that is sense but to wake up in such a different galaxy wasn't what need right now. Her one thing was to survive to find her place with in this galaxy to survive this chaos.

@Darth Vornskr @IC-3471 @Logan Harkins @Graxin Rade @Darth Narakada @Darth Vulcanus [member="Clarke Gabel"]

 

[Trioc 'Quickshot']

Trioc attached his mask, stepping behind his master, [member="Darth Narakada"]. He was tensed and ready, the nervousness of battle quietly eating away at his stomach as he waited for the shuttle to finish it's screeching stop. He had received a slight briefing of what was going on here, and the rest could be filled in, they were re-taking this planet.

As the shuttle stopped, Trioc tried to listen outside of it, he couldn't hear much, the shuttle walls made sure of that, but he could hear some faint scratching outdoors, maybe rats he thought. The planet had apparently gotten to be in pretty bad shape.

 

[Wilhelm Rykal]

Meanwhile, in the Morellian Capital's military district...
Morellian Planetary Defense Force troopers would have built crude sandbag defenses outside one of their strongholds, their blasters fixated on a lone freighter that had landed in a courtyard infront of them. Both parties would remain motionless for a few minutes, waiting for whoever would make the first move, when suddenly, the freighter's massive exit ramp lowered down. The PDF troopers quickly pointed their blasters at the ramp, expecting an infantry assault, when all of a sudden, a large clanging would be heard.....then another. Metallic footsteps echoing down the ramp. One after another. It's source would soon appear, a large Phase III dark trooper now stood before them...

Most of the PDF troopers fled into their fortress at the sight of it, but one braver soul would still have his gun fixated on the large Dark Trooper. A voice would eminate from the mechanical suit, deepened by it's voice-changer. ''Your move, creep.'', it said, the lone PDF trooper shaking in visible fear, his gun still fixated on this large terrifying monstrosity. ''Go ahead....make my day.'', the voice said again. The PDF trooper fired one shot at the mech, which bounced off it's thick durasteel helmet. The Dark Trooper responded in kind, firing off a single disruptor blast from one of the many weapons on it's left arm, blowing the poor, barely armored man to cinders. ''Fool.'', it said, before strolling towards the PDF stronghold...

[member="Trioc 'Quickshot'"]
[member="Bria Shadow-Tarkin"]
[member="Clarke Gabel"]
[member="Graxin Rade"]
[member="Darth Narakada"]
[member="Darth Vulcanus"]
[member="Krest"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]
[member="IC-3471 Logan Harkins"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

Well, that's one way to enter a building..

The Zabrak frowned as the whole of the ship slammed in the side of the capital building. He kept near perfectly still as the hull breached the wall, using a mixture of robotics and the Force to prevent his own form from stumbling forward. He had several questions for his master, [member="Darth Vulcanus"] , but he kept them to himself, more then certian that by asking, he may end up with a wound or several. When the hull finally opened he saw [member="Graxin Rade"] and the rebels.

"Why are there hostages?" His voice sounded out from under his hood, raspy and dark, twisted from scars earned. He'd look to the rebels themselves, his cold blue gaze drifting over each of them. There was one in particular that stood out, a human male hefting a gun level with one of the many hostages themselves. An older man, forced on his knees with his hands behind his head. The Sith walked right up to him, motioning to his hostage.

"Kill him." The hostage stuttered, starting to plead for his life. His words were filled with fear, something the Zabrak seemed to almost enjoy. "W.. What? No! I.. I didn't do anything! I just happened to be in the building!"

"I can't kill a defenseless man." The rebel spoke affirmatively. Military training by the sounds of it. His own green gaze stared back into the lifeless gaze that was Darth Ferus's.

"His face is known. A forerunner in this corrupt government. Kill him."

"I will no-" His sentence was cut short as he was lifted into the air. His blaster itself dropped to the ground, clattering helplessly as it's owner hovered above, his throat slowly contorting. The Zabrak didn't even so much as lift a hand to do so, and his gaze drifted to the hostage himself. The man had started to crawl away, try to escape from this while all the eyes were on the man currently choking, but he soon joined the man, slowly lifting up in the air.

Darth Ferus turned to the other rebels, letting the two men behind him continue to choke as he spoke. His raspy voice was clear among the silence, ringing out through the broken world.

​"These people in this building sat comfortably as you and your families suffered. They ate meals while you fought for a scrap, eating in holes to avoid others. Avoid others so they won't attack you themselves for the food. They do not deserve your pity. They do not deserve forgiveness. All who worked in this building will die this day. No hostages."

He released the rebel, who fell to the ground beside his blaster, panting heavily. His hands clutched at his throat as he tried to remove the feeling that was left there, tried to feel free. But it was the other man, the hostage, that wasn't let off easy. The Zabrak raised his hand, and closed it quickly. The hostages body contorted, fracturing and snapping until the whole of his form turned into an almost sphere shape. There were no sounds from him as he was crushed, no sounds other then the snapping of his bones. A terrifying display, yes. But effective. The other rebels looked on in fear, and fear could be pointed in the right direction.

A red hand waved as he sent the remnants of the body out the gaping hole created by the ship. He looked to the rebels, anger showing on his face. He was far from actually angry, but he used the emotions to his advantage.

"You cannot tell me you are not angry at these people. Angry at what they've forced your family to live through. Take your anger out on them. Make them feel the pain you've had to suffer through."

The first shot came from the commando he had choked. Surprisingly, he agreed with the Sith, and had shot the woman who sat beside the recently crushed hostage. More shots filled the air as the rebels followed in suit, executing their hostages through sheer anger, sheer hate. Darth Ferus only grinned as he listened to the shots. Hate was truly powerful.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Placeholder 0123]

Graxin could really only stare. He understood Sith could be reckless, and that they needed to how power, but even his father knew how important establishing order was. Order was not established by slaughtering the entire lower echelon of governmental office.

"Because preserving the lower classes of the government office will help us establish order as they know their people, save us time, and cut down on what would be months of trying to train appropriate replacements." He winced as the man's neck cracked. "It's only the upper half that needs to be executed...the lower is simply logistics...which would eagerly serve us in exchange for their lives."

A thin line was on the boy's face. He dare not speak out more, but internally, he fumed. This was the enforcer he had seen by his father's side--if this was his idea of enforcing....

That's pointless killing. It hurts us, not helps.

And then, against his better judgement, he spoke. "Though I can see you feel the need to satisfy yourself...m'lord."


(CHOKE HIM KYLE, CHOKE HIS GUTS OUT!)

[member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The square was now littered with the corpses of government enforcers, and rubble from the crash landing. All of the civilians in the vicinity had fled to higher ground, or away from the entire area in general. However; the Blackblade's job was not yet done. Vornskr remotely patched into the city's network, bypassing the subpar defense measures easily enough. It wasn't any military fortress or secret facility, the security measures would be up to the standard for wayward planets such as this, and thus wouldn't require much effort to hack into. Once that was done, he uploaded a detailed layout of the city's external and internal grid to himself and his Praetorian Guards. He gave them all detailed paths to take through the city to wipe out any and all resistance before convening on the militia garrison to the north west. Without a word they moved into action, branching out from the square to patrol the streets, taking down anything that shot at them with merciless efficiency. None who dared stand against them were spared their wrath, even civilians who had too much bravado in their system were taken down.

Meanwhile; Vornskr would start his way towards the garrison, but was beset by officers at nearly every turn. He did nothing as they unloaded barrage after barrage of blaster fire at him, his armor protecting him from their meager assault, until he had finally breached their threshold and slaughtered them with a combination of the Force and his lightsaber. Dismembered and crushed bodies lined the streets in his wake, the civilians looking on in terror as he passed, but they remained unharmed. Despite Vornskr's love for civilian casualties and mass murder, he knew the purpose of sparing the lowly peons. Up ahead sat the garrison, one of the only buildings not falling into the decay of poverty and anarchy, and an impressive host was assembled in front of it. Several armored hovercraft and armored police enforcers began to open fire at the approaching Sith Lord, who merely raised a single hand and created a shimmering field of energy around himself to stave off the barrage for a time.

The blaster bolts deflected off of the energy field's surface, the area around it becoming riddled with destruction. Vornskr, with a face of impassiveness, directed the Force to the armored vehicles, causing their ammunition cells to rupture and take both of them out in a ball of flame and shrapnel. He dispelled the protective bubble and launched himself at the police forces, activating his pair of lightsabers midair, before bringing them down through the bodies of two officers. He moved like a specter, carving a path of death and destruction through all that opposed him. By the Force, it had been far too long since he had slaughtered on this scale before, and it seemed to revitalize the decaying Sith Lord. He felt like a young man again, destroying all that opposed the Empire and Emperor Moridin. By the end of it all, the ground was awash in blood and broken bodies, surrounding the malefic Sith Lord in the center of the carnage. As he deactivated his lightsabers, the Praetorian Guards finally arrived, having cleansed the nearby streets of enemies.

He contacted Vulcanus once more, "Sector five through seven cleared, moving to clear out the local garrison. Vornskr out."

[member="Darth Vulcanus"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Commander Rykal"] [member="Trioc 'Quickshot'"] [member="Bria Shadow-Tarkin"] [member="Clarke Gabel"] [member="IC-3471 Logan Harkins"] [member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Garza]

I shook my head. Taking a hold of the lightsaber that was on my belt, The white hilt matched that of my Rune covered armor. White in all of it's clarity. While most others would have been wearing black or red, I had white, and icy blue. I shook my head as I walked forwards alone. No troops with me. Not even an ally. Ships came down from the heavens. I had been hiding for a while, and well. I felt like doing something "good" again.

Many different sizes of freighters, small carriers and smaller ships still did come down. letting troops out. With a single bound, I came to the top of a building. Seeing a ship land down and troops pour out. I shook my head. Clearly seeing the Sith symbol that was on their armor, and the design of which was easily Sith coming back from the shadows. I allowed myself to fall down onto a bystander. Slamming his head into the concrete. Killing them. While the rest of this persons family or friends began to run. I rose up allowing people to run from me.

I might as well join the sith now. I was one a long time ago. And one that I intended to be back to. Hopefully this time, I was not stuck with the stupid ideas of an Emperor. I would work for him, sure, but I was not going to be a pet.

 

[Jacob2130]

Tye stood up from the shuttle where it had crashed through the roof and walked out of the shuttle with the sound of a crack. Tye looked up and saw him kill this politician and instantly hate flew through his blood. This was pointless killing innocent life that was defenseless, besides they don't know any better. This is what the politicians were born to do, so I don't understand the point of this. Tye's hands clenched into a fist as his Sith blood started slowly slipping out of his grasp. Tye's black hood covered most of his face and what remanded visible was covered up by a black mask with a golden T right in the middle of his mask. Tye drew his double bladed lightsaber and activated the blade with a hiss with it activating. His blade was a magnificent blue and he was getting ready to strike [member="Darth Ferus"], but finally controlled his anger and put his blade away.

[member="Darth Vulcanus"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Tye Kelly"] [member="Solrune"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Darth Ferus"]

Spoiler

The Dark Lord, his body covered from head to toe in his armor and a long black cape draped around him, marched from the dark shadows within the shuttle. The beast was a hulking presence among the rubble of the ceiling and the Morellian rebels that now stood at Darth Ferus's side. There were few who could command a presence like Vulcanus could, the darkside that poured from his very soul was enough to give younglings nightmares and his bulking form alone gave him a height advantage over most being he met. All of this, combined with the devilish armor and jet black armorweave cape, made Vulcanus appear to be the king of hell come to the galaxy to bring forth darkness and destruction.

By the time the Dark lord had disembarked the ship, Krest had carried out his orders and the conspirators lay dead on the ground before him. This made him snort with displeasure, the Enforcer was getting too adventurous with his new position and now had the gull to take command of the operation and render judgment upon the lessers without his consent. It was not the fact that he had killed those who were weaker, no, it was that he now thought himself in a position to make decisions without his master's approval. To Vulcanus, the one who had given him his worthless life to begin with, Ferus was still nothing more than a glorified servant and when a servant got too brave they required a display of power to remind them who was in charge.

With only the echoing thuds of his feet to notify anyone of his presence, the Dark Lord moved up quietly and stood just in front of Ferus. Without a word, the Sith scanned the bodies with the ice cold eyes of an angel of death. Slowly he looked up to his 'son', Graxin. Still he didn't say a word, he didn't have to. The Dark Lord's presence alone demanded silence and with his eyes hidden behind the shadow cast by his helmet, no one could even guess what he was thinking.

The room became hotter as the Dark Lord starred off into the distance and then, without warning, all of the rebels around the three Sith began to scream in pain. Their armor had suddenly turned red hot and their bodies began blistering as they were cooked alive inside their own skin. Their shrieks were like those of the damned, filling the burning capital building with a blood curdling howl of death that could only be described as hellish. The rebels began to fall to the ground, their hands and faces becoming a blistering red as they slowly cooked away from the inside out and their blood started to boil in their veins. They had taken orders from his enforcer, who needed to be put in his place again, and so they would die as an example.

Spinning around, Vulcanus sent a backhand flying straight towards his Enforcer's face. If it impacted, the spike on the gauntlet would surly cut deep into his skin and leave bleeding gashes across the side of his face. "Never render judgment on the weak without my consent again." Vulcanus bellowed, but his voice was not of anger or rage it was merely commanding, "You are my enforcer, you enforce my will...not your own."

Turning to his 'son', Vulcanus spat out more commands "Find me others who are fit for Project Enlightenment, do not fail me or your head will be beside that of the Minister's" was his simple order before looking over Tye and Ferus one last time, "Only those who are deemed worthy for the project may live, execute everyone else in the building."

With one last glance to his Enforcer, Krag growled "do not fail me again" a simple warning, but one that demanded obedience. With nothing left to say, Vulcanus gathered a small squad of his stormtrooper and headed down the hall towards the Prime Minister's office on the next floor. Kaine had checked in during his fit of rage, but there was no need to reply for now. Those who wished to accompany the Dark Lord may if they wished, if not there were plenty of other objectives awaiting completion.

 

[Darth Ferus]

An icy blue gaze shifted first to Graxin, and then to Tye. The two had openly challenged him, one with words, the other with action. The Zabrak slowly moved his hand to the hilt of his blade, the extension of his own body, ready to put them both in their place. Rade may call his master Father, but he was not above punishment. And either was Tye. The purple flamed blade slowly slid out of it's sheath audibly, but it was cut short as the massive form known as Krag stepped off of the ship. He bowed his head to his master, to his savior out of respect. He had made the Rebels feed on the Darkside much like Ferus himself has. Made them that much better of a servant to his master.

Darth Ferus had just opened his mouth with the whole room came to life with sound. It was the screams of the rebels, screams that caused the Zabrak to visually anger. If both [member="Graxin Rade"] and [member="Tye Kelly"] thought his own actions were needless, how would they feel about [member="Darth Vulcanus"] choice? He only stood with a seething anger as he watched the rebels burn inside their own armor. This was not the first time the Zabrak wanted his own master dead, but perhaps this would be the time he would act. Be the time Deus would finally sheath itself in the hulking forms throat.

But Ferus kept his anger in check. He watched on as the people he brought closer to serve his master burn. And he slowly understood his roll. He would do only as his master asked, without adding his own. Without acting on his own. Until the day he could kill Vulcanus. He took the backhand willingly, his head knocked to the side. But he kept his footing, standing tall through it. Even as the gash bled on the opposite side of his burn he would level his gaze with his masters before bowing his head.

"As you say, my master." Short and to the point once more he spoke. His raspy voice sounded off loud enough for all to hear, but his blue gaze drifted to both Tye and Graxin. For now he would ignore their offences. But soon the Darth would remind them who was stronger. Vulcanus is the only one Ferus reported to. The only one he would bow to when offended. Any other will be punished.