Writing's on the Wall (Ruusan Rebellion: Sith Triumvirate v. Techno Union)

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

The ends always justified means. Really, the only point where Adekos diverged with [member="Aver Brand"] on that was what ends were ultimately necessary and what means were justifiable. The Republic was a prime example of people unwilling to do what was necessary to secure a better future. They could have ended the Vong threat in one fell swoop through bioweapons. But did they? No, of course not. Wiping out a society of death-worshipping masochists through an artificially engineered plague was apparently far more amoral than condemning billions of citizens to death as that horde advanced.

And now that horde was out of control completely, running roughshod over the stars- particularly Denon. Because someone in the Republic didn't have the cojones to get things done. Speaking of triggers, "Of course." Darth Adekos replied, and the main weapon came back online. And not a moment too soon. After rounding a corner, they had a clear view of the city's square and the city hall on the opposite side. Between them and their objective was a gaggle of barricades, cobbled together from bits of rotten furniture and re-purposed durasteel. It was all almost indistinguishable from, say, mounds of trash.

Aside from the two dozen cultists evenly spaced behind the trash-barriers, there were two civilian landspeeders in sight. Both were in a sorry state of disrepair, but both also had a couple of E-Web turrets welded onto their backs. Thus a couple of junk speeders barely worth their weight in scrap had been turned into light fighting vehicles. Clearly a far cry from the tank the Umbaran and the Cyborg had just requisitioned.

"Well, I've got the point defense guns." Adekos said, hands dancing over the controls as he primed up the point defense guns. "You can probably take care of the rest."

Indeed, she had been taking care of most things since they got here, so the statement hadn't been necessary.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Valley of the Jedi, Obsidian Compound.
Objective: Breach the structure.
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Catalys Maijora"] | [member="Oron Verd"] | [member="Seren Ordavo"]
Variable: [member="Sinistra"] | [member="Raziel"] | [member="Eralam"]

“I suppose not.” the Dark Lord responded calmly. In the miasmatic mess of emotions, turmoil and power the Triumvir was the eye of the storm, posed as always he did not seem to notice the battlefield raging around them. But perhaps after all these years of fighting against the Republic the battlefield was a natural habitat for one such as him.

Perhaps it simply did not hold any mysteries for him anymore.

His hand stretched out and a sphere of energy projected itself around them from a respectable difference. The sonic grenade would do one out of two things once it collided with the field: a) it bounced off, right back at the launcher or b) it was rigged to ‘explode’ the moment it collided.

The latter option seemed more likely on a battlefield. If this was the case the vibrations moving through the medium would lose most of its damaging effect, if the former… well, that would be all around a party.

“You and yours may leave in peace then, Lady Sinistra. We will speak soon about a renewed… allegiance.”

His attention moved from Sinistra back to the form of Matsu. Critical eye surveyed the damage done to her side, before sighing heavily.

How crude. The thought was thought. But Xiangu was a Sith Lord in her own right now, his energy would give her some small reprieve and she could deal with Raziel in any way she saw fit.

The Spymaster was on his own there. Poor lad.

Instead the Triumvir focused on the Obsidian compound, the entire crux of the matter. His mind reached out again - this time towards those that still held the gate against his soldiers and Catalys inside.

It was time to end this.

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olmondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]) | Tank!
Enemies: Cultists!

“Quite,” she succinctly replied, eyes on the prize.

Aver’s eyes were always on the prize.

Without paying another sliver of attention to the man beside her, the woman grabbed hold of the main gun controls, eyes twinkling dangerously behind the impassive metal of her helmet. Being a general of a massive army had a few perks, but one of the highlights for her had definitely been the free reign with the toys. Whenever she had a spot of free time, the firrerreo would veer towards the massive wastelands of Prakith in some new vehicle, carrying a dozen of experimental weapons straight from the R&D.

It wasn’t like anyone was counting the craters in shredded surface of that barren planet.

In any case, Ruusan was by far less pockmarked compared to the ancient fortress world, and Aver had every intention of changing that. Immediately.

With a wolfish grin, the woman squeezed the trigger, raining hellfire and terror upon the chit-tier cover set up by the cultists. All the while, their tank advanced upon the defensive line at full speed, repulsorlifts roaring almost as loud as the guns.

“Where’s your god now, frakkers?”

 

[Casteel Mer'taal]

[member="Artanis"]

A curt nod. Having a more hands-on approach would serve them well. They would, however, have to ensure they mitigate any risks. Her lips drew thin in the resulting thoughts.

"We capture one, discretely." those pale pewter orbs would appear to flash for a moment, a moombeam glow that contrasted against her olive skin. Fingers would flex against the gunmetal gray electrostaff. It was crafted of alchemy of ages past, a firm and robust metal that was enhanced by those of old. It was a proud artifact that the young woman utilized with grace.

"Then ensure their mind is clouded." There was a method and practice that they would have to uphold.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Soah"]

He frowned for a moment. "It would be easier to just kill them."

People died all the time in war after all, there was no real need to keep whomever they took alive. This was a rebellion, or something that looked very like it, there was going to be casualties on both sides. All they had to do was pick the correct target, something which would be rather simple given how many people there were streaming onto this world. They would have to watch for a time, see which target would be the best to take. He frowned for a moment, shifting his grip upon the lightsaber pike.

"The body can be disposed of." He continued on. "There would be no risk of discovery."

Death was always a succinct end.

Perhaps his suggestion was a tad more brutal, but then again as they had discovered as of late the galaxy was a brutal place.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

OOC/ Apologies, was waiting for a tag, never got it even though I can see it now in the thread. Funky.

IC/
LOCATION: Valley
OPPONENT: [member="Sinistra"]
OBJECTIVE: Flashbang

Her next spell summoned a handful of wraiths, their forms akin to her own appearance but in dark greys and devoid of color save for the visor in the mask which glowed red. Given orders to hunt the ghoul caller and the spirit speaker, the four wraiths split into pairs and streaked through the battlefield after their targets.

Seren straightened from his vantage point at the forest's new and blasted edge. Smoke demons, for all their lethality, and for all that he'd never seen them summoned in numbers like these, just didn't have what it took. They couldn't get a grip on his fear, for starters. He'd spent twenty years in triple-max, a few more spiked into a suit of sorcerous armour as a slave, and a few more inhabiting Korriban. There'd been fear along the way, sure, but he'd gotten past the dreams ages ago. Demon after demon writhed in confusion as it tried to express abstract concepts, and he tore them apart. Put them to bed.

But these wraiths, now, these two hunters -- they were something else. They looked like a smallish woman in armour, monochrome except for the visor. Maybe something like a Force Phantom, Force Shadow-

No. As they drew close, tracking him unerringly, he felt a bone-deep chill, as if he'd stepped into a particularly ugly Dark Side nexus. And he thought back to Aorali Ventirri, the long-dead Ghostling, and her conjuration skills. Force Wraiths, Prophet-of-the-Dark-Side style. Often, though not constantly, extensions of their master's eyes and ears.

Seren's lip curled, exposing teeth, as he stepped out from behind the tree and faced the oncoming Wraiths.

"Brr. Brisk."

Anyone who could conjure multiple Wraiths could probably handle that many sensory feeds competently. But no reason not to test the hypothesis. Worst-case scenario, he annoyed someone who could stand to be annoyed.

Between him and the quickly onrushing Wraiths, fire exploded, blue-white, in a roar of indrawn air. The trees she'd scorched and shattered with her wide-angle Force blast served as fuel now. His lenses dimmed to keep out the glare; he kept some attention on Force senses to compensate. At these temperatures, it'd be consumed fairly quickly, but the idea wasn't to destroy the Wraiths, even if their momentum might carry them into the heart of the blaze. Frankly, he wasn't even sure fire would harm them, though a man could always get lucky. What mattered was that he'd just dropped an AOE flashbang directly in front of constructs that could serve as their master's eyes and ears. And he'd done so in the moment after they saw him, so there was a chance that her attention had actively been there. All guesswork, though; just possibilities worth eliminating.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

"Dead with the rest of them." Adekos answered dryly. The point defenses rumbled to life and already Adekos could see a pair of cultists who were going to make his life difficult. Two grenade launchers, and the other one appeared to be holding a homing rocket launcher. Not for long. One of the grenadiers popped out from cover, only to be lanced with a decisive burst from the point defense guns. The rocketeer darted forward, aiming to change positions to another trash pile now that one of his friends was dead. No such luck. But Adekos accidentally aimed too low, and instead of blasting the cultist in the back, Adekos blew one of his legs off. In shock and sans a limb, the cultist rolled over himself several times thanks to the kinetic force of the blast. He eventually came to a stop, where he would probably die over the course of the next few minutes.

So uncivilized.

The other grenadier was about to capitalize on that distraction, only to be blow to bits when [member="Aver Brand"] targeted the barricade he had been hiding behind. Small arms fire was now peppering the tank, but the outdated and inaccurate small arms of the majority of the cultists pinged uselessly off the hull. The only real problem happened to be the two speeders with E-Webs. They gunned their engines, shooting past the tank's immediate field of vision and circling around the back. They kept mobile, even as the gunners opened fire on the tank's backside. "Has anyone ever expressed to you the merits of target prioritization?" Shields would hold for a while, but these were E-Webs. Together, they would chew through shields and then hull very soon if left alone.

Adekos did his best to lock on to the rapidly moving vehicles, but they were moving too quickly. The turrets swiveled around uselessly, firing sporadically but failing to get anything more than a graze. These were fairly old tanks in the grand scheme of things. Or so Adekos liked to think. He was as skilled in blame deflection as he was in Mechu-Deru.

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olmondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]) | Tank!
Enemies: Cultists!


A look of satisfaction with a job well done passed over her face as she blew the other grenadier to bits, but it was short-lived. Like the Sith Lord at her side, Aver noticed the speeders had outmaneuvered the less agile vehicle they were piloting, effectively directing their fire at their blind spot.

A momentary frown drew a furrow between her brows before she swiveled in the chair, facing her unlikely companion with a decisive abruptness. “Keep moving and take care of the front,” was all she said, already pushing out of the seat and climbing towards the hatch.

Quickly, yet carefully, the mercenary pried it open and peered behind the tank, letting her helmet systems do the calculations of distance and speed while her own mind worked on tactical solutions. Honed and used to battle as it was, the split functions served to save her precious seconds that would otherwise be spent on thought and eyeballing; seconds that she now devoted to vaulting out of the vehicle and sliding down the side of the hull in little more than a person-shaped blur.

A couple of bolts hissed past her as the cultists spotted the rapidly approaching danger, but Aver was zigzagging left and right with such a random pattern that they were having trouble getting a bead on her. Just as well, really, as the few shots they had scored stung with an unpleasant heat, and she knew there would be bruises blossoming in their wake.

Still, she had more immediate concerns.

The cultists’ yells grew more panicked as the unknown danger drew closer, and their aim worsened with every meter she covered. To her left and right, bits of concrete exploded when the bolts hit, scorched fragments leaving ugly scars in the plate covering her body.

And then she was upon them.

A cross between anger and exhilaration crossed her features as she launched into a kick, momentum, technique, and a solid three hundred pounds working in her favor.

She snapped the gunner’s neck like a twig, then settled in his place as the cooling cadaver hit the ground. Already the pilot was trying to throw her off with wild maneuvers, but the woman held fast, dragging herself ever closer to the remaining man as she flattened herself against the speeder, thus making it near impossible for the other pair to hit her without blowing up the whole thing.

Which, given that they were fanatics… wasn’t entirely impossible. But she’d worry about that later.

 

[Krayzen Dratos]

Allies: [member="Joran Greth"] / The Imperium /Techno Union/@Werah Union/[member=Sinistra]
Enemies: [member="Darth Vornskr"] / [member="Darth Adekos"] /Sithies.

If there was ever an ally that had worked with the One Sith on a number of occasions, it was the Techno Union. Once a galactic superpower, the Techno Union had worked with the One Sith on numerous occasions. It seemed however that some high ranking people in the One Sith thought the alliance should be assessed again due to the loss of the Techno Union's territories, as well as it's power base. That however was something Malos was not fond off, even if he served some of the biggest bastards in the galaxy.

Fortunately for the Captain, [member="Konrad von Grimmelshausen"], [member="Isamu Baelor"], [member="Krayzen Dratos"], and [member="Darth Erebos"] all shared the same feelings, and that was why they had sent Malos to go and help the Techno Union from the Sith usurpers, a splinter faction that had featured former high ranking One Sith officials; furthermore, he had also been allowed to go and fight off anyone that helped the Sith Triumvirate; traitors had to be dealt with, and Malos never supported dealing allying with traitors, except in certain circumstances.

The Ephicanthix/Pantoran hybrid was fortunate to have had his IFF tags, transponders, etc changed a few months ago. That meant that if anyone fought him, they would know that the vessels that were seen were One Sith, and belonged to the One Sith, but they wouldn't know who commanded it; this had occurred in deep secrecy, meaning that only the Military Executor, and [member="Krayzen Dratos"] were aware of it. t would not be fortunate when fighting the Galactic Republic, or the Galactic Alliance, however when it came to fighting One Sith officials, for instance [member="Darth Vornskr"], King of Panatha and a Dark Council Member, it was an amazing thing.


"Emerging from realspace in one minute sir"

"Order all pilots to get ready for deployment. Maintain formation. I also want reports on all the systems of our ships." Malos ordered.

Soon, reports showed that all the systems in each ship that waas part of Malos' squadron functioned at maximum effectiveness.

"Sir, we are entering realspace in 3..2..1"

As soon as the ship entered realspace, IFF tags, and transponders from a certain fleet made Malos smirk.

"Sir, the War Fleet, Black Iron is here."

"I am well aware of that commander. Deploy all fighters, and maintain formation. If our sensors pick up targeting solutions being set up by the War Fleet, Black Iron, you are to defend yourself immediately, and set up targeting solutions on their fleet. "



Summary of actions:

• Arrived in hyperspace
• Maintained defensive formation
• Used encrypted comms

1xWyyrlok Class Star Destroyer
4xDolos Class Frigates
2XVanguard Class Heavy Cruiser
6xRazer Frigates
1XDark Blade Class Dreadnought
1xTorment Class Star Destroyer

Total Length:7,156 m

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Ruusan System

"Milord. Com-scan has detected another Imperial fleet entering the system. Transponder tags claim them to be ships of the One Sith, sire, but we cannot discern who leads this incursion." came the grizzled voice of Rear-Admiral Omarest Croscal, steadfast commander of War Fleet Black Iron.

Someone was being too smart for their own good, changing their IFF tags in secret so that they could fool their fellow compatriots. Perhaps such underhanded tactics would've worked well against those uninitiated to the ways of the Force, but Darth Vornskr was very much initiated. His mind expanded outward, reached out through space and time to touch upon the minds of those that dwelt on board the flagship of this new fleet. He could feel them, their drilled discipline and their mountain anxiety and apprehension. Yet when he sought to touch the mind of their leader, he found that he was repelled effortlessly. That either meant that the individual who was leading them was an unexpectedly gifted Force user, or that they, like he, had Epicanthix blood pumping through their veins.

He suspected the later, for he did not sense the Force swirling around them like a current, but rather it flowed through them harmlessly; they had no capacity to harness that which bound them to the physical universe. Thus he could not divine a name, but he had a rough rotoscope image of their face and their form, but nothing else. "Monitor them, but do not engage. Keep the fighters scrambled and do not alter our approach. I will make my way to the hanger." He left the bridge in the capable control of Croscal, and made his way through the many decks to the hanger bay where his shuttle was waiting for him.

By now his warship had synced up with Ruusan's orbit, and from its gullet erupted a steady stream of Imperial transports and shuttles that were commanded to deploy their soldiers all across the planet to support the Sith Triumvirate forces already planet-side. One of those shuttles, that which carried Darth Vornskr and ten eunuch Crownsguards with their iconic black and crimson battle armor, broke away from the main convoy and made its way towards Olmondo.

[member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Malos Kas"]​

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

Suddenly, [member="Aver Brand"] was standing up in her seat and popping the hatch. "Don't leave me alone in this galaxy, Ms. Brand." Adekos called after her. "Or, you know, in the tank."

Operating an entire tank solely from the co-pilot's seat would normally be a death wish. Fortunately, Darth Adekos had the added benefit of being a Force Sensitive who could operate controls remotely through the sheer power of the Force. Also he had downloaded the user's manual for this tank into his cybernetic implant during the drive over. It pays to be prepared for when your co-pilot suddenly abandons tank. And when you ride with an Equalizer, that is a very real possibility at any given moment. Case in point being the present situation.

As instructed, Adekos kept the tank forward. Blaster bolts pinged uselessly against the hull, occasionally joined by the report of some slugthrowers. That seemed to be the thing with these cultists- there was a huge disparity in their repertoire of technology. First there were tanks, now there were speeders. Now some of them had slughthrowers. At the current rate of decline, the ones inside the town center were going to be wielding sticks, stones, and mean words.

The tank fired its main cannon, obliterating another barricade. Suppressing fire followed as another shot was charged up, courtesy of the AG-2G Quad Laser mounted in front of the hatch. Cultists that dared peek their heads out from cover lost them. While both main weapons were recharging, a few of them bolted from cover and moved to the tank. Since they had seen Brand volt out of the vehicle, they would have assumed that the point defenses weren't going to be working. These tanks needed, what, four people to operate? Imagine their surprise when they were mowed down by the point defenses anyway.

This is far more fun than it should be.

Unmatched in firepower (and now unmolested by E-Webs), the tank continued forward without remorse. Another barricade destroyed, another few cultists disintegrated by the AG-2G. The Imperials would have had a field day with these guys. Too bad that they had missed out. The remaining cultists were now opting for a retreat, vanishing down opposite city streets or running into the city hall. Adekos then remembered he should probably turn around and help Brand with whatever she was dealing with. The main cannon rotated as the tank ground to a halt in front of the city hall.

There was Brand, clinging for dear life on one of the speeders- which was now distinctly sans gunner. That speeder's pilot was trying desperately to shake her off, all while being nervously circled by the other speeder as its gunner tried to get a bead on her without killing their friend. Strange. Malevolence Cultists had never been known to be particularly helpful to one another. Their loss, really. It only took him a few seconds to lock on target and fire. The ensuing blast of energy hit the back of the speeder first, igniting the engine components and the power pack of the welded E-Web. The gunner was disintegrated, along with the rest of the back half of the speeder. The other half cartwheeled into a building with its pilot, who had either burned to death or snapped his neck in the crash.

It was anyone's guess.

 

[Sinistra]

Location: The Valley
Allies: [member="Eralam"] | [member="Adi"] | [member="Raziel"]
Opposition: [member="Seren Ordavo"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Darth Carach"]

Things were getting altogether out of hand on a planet with only a smidgen of a population that the Techno Union had only recently acquired as part of their territory. Or at least, that was the read Sinistra was getting. The Imperium had no quarrel with the TU and though their accords were ridiculously informal and about as binding as tissue paper, the fact she and Joran committed forces to the matter at all should be worth some currency with the TU. However, one had to ask how much that currency was worth coming from another falling empire.

Through her coms, she could hear Joran in orbit, a ghost of a smile on her lips as he had responded to the call just as she had. However, the addition of other ships, this time One Sith proper fleets had her questioning how much longer she truly wished to continue to share space with any on the planet's surface.

She heard [member="Darth Carach"]'s voice giving her and the Imperium leave to excuse themselves from the mess. Well that made her decision easier. "So be it, Lord Carach. 'Til next time."

The wraith pair that had gone for the spirit speaker found their target and he proved a crafty one. Her attention had been alerted to their find and without notice, her mind's eye flooded with searing light and pain, enough to stagger her to a knee, cradling her head in hands for a moment before she could forcefully wrest control from the wraiths. Someone was familiar with that technique. She would not make the mistake again, as she severed the connection to the constructs. They would fight until their unmaking at his hands or until she disspelled them from a safe distance.

The wraiths paused for only a moment in the fire, their shrieking forms diminished by the licking flames but given freedom to charge they were feral apparitions of their creator. Damaged already by the fires, they would not survive their encounter but they would buy Sinistra some time to retreat. While they could wield no lightsaber, they opted instead for hand to hand combat, leaping for the bespeckled [member="Seren Ordavo"] with fingers outstretched for his forearms.

Sinistra stood shakily to her feet, the after effect of the pain sowing the seeds of a raging migraine in her head. She radioed [member="Eralam"], [member="Joran Greth"] and [member="Gulliver Foyle"] the official retreat for Imperium forces.

::Live to fight another day boys, the Techno Union is bested. Sound the retreat, regroup at home. Drinks are on me.::

She turned to head towards where her ship sat on a high plateau, another pair of wraiths materializing at her side, the last push of concentration she could muster, even drenched in the nexus to give herself an escort out of the fray in case any of the invaders decided to press the attack on her withdrawal.

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olmondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]) | Tank!
Enemies: Cultists!

Blissfully oblivious to her Sithly associate’s theatrics – and frankly, too busy to pay attention even had she been able to – the mercenary instead used her considerable weight and the speeder’s considerable… speed to send the vehicle in a barrel roll. During this maneuver, Aver was extremely thankful for three particular truths: one, she was strong enough to hold on whereas the unfortunate pilot lacked both the purchase and upper-body strength to maintain his grip; two, that the other guy was a lousy shot and didn’t know how to deal with a veering vehicle; and three, that she had armor good enough to stop the occasional bolt that did find its intended target.

She was still steering her now-unmanned speeder to the left of the remaining E-Web when the E-Web in question – as well as the cultist operating it, the vessel, and its immediate vicinity – went up in flames. Aver, who had seen her fair share of fire and its close relatives, had the good grace to promptly abandon her position and fling herself wildly out of the way before she too turned into overcooked steak inside her many layers of metal.

She came to a skidding stop some five metres away from the explosive incident, leaving an unappealing black scar across the ferrocrete.

“How about some accuracy next time?” the mercenary yelled at the tank and its sole occupant, utterly failing to convey her anger with the impassive helmet covering her face. Talk about drawbacks.

After rejoining the Sith Lord inside the warmachine, she commandeered the vehicle once more, going so far as to elbow the man out of the way. Aver, naturally, had every intention of barging straight through the front door of the city hall in her new toy, and short of lethal force, there weren’t a whole many things that could stop her once she got going.

Her foot bore down on the gas like the One Sith bore down on the Galactic Republic. Given who she used to be, her foot could be said to be uncannily precise in this comparison.

Then again, Adekos was as clueless as the cultists gaping at their inevitable destruction.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

Oddly enough, several inches of thick, reinforced durasteel prevented Adekos from hearing Brand's angry demand for accuracy. This was unfortunate, as then he would have known why she elbowed him in the face once Aver had pried the hatch back open and jumped back into the tank. "Now was that entirely necessary?" He complained, settling back over on his side of the cockpit once again. Not even a 'thanks for driving while I was gone' or a 'thanks for keeping that speeder from turning me into mincemeat.' Field work, like every other kind of work, was a thankless job. Or at least it always turned out that way for Adekos. As if he wasn't paying her enough. She knew the risks! She knew the dangers! He could have purposefully targeted her and saved a lot of money, like almost every other Sith would do, but here he was...

People just didn't respect good principle until it was gone.

Once she was back inside, she slammed her foot on one of the pedals and sent the tank rocketing forward without warning. Of course. Adekos should have known that simply opening the front door wasn't an option so long as [member="Aver Brand"] was in the party. Some more blaster bolts smacked into the tank as it continued towards its inevitable destination, but to no avail. The vehicle smashed through the crumbling facade, sending glass, stone, and a couple unsuspecting cultists that had been hiding inside flying. The tank eventually halted, repulsorlifts jammed with debris... And also the fact that it had crashed into the side of a much thicker stone staircase.

"If I had known you were going to do that," Adekos said, unbuckling his seat-belt. "I would have saved that question for now."

Aver, no doubt, was probably already ahead of him in exiting the tank. So he called after her. "I'm going to need these cultists alive, so try not to kill them... Instantaneously, anyway."

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olmondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]) | Tank!
Enemies: Cultists!

The Equalizer offered only a grin by way of excuse, explanation, and answer. Talk about efficiency!

Of course, like every other facial expression that happened to cross her face, this wicked smile, too, went completely unnoticed by the dishevelled and slighted occupant of the tank. By his rising tone of voice and state of dress, one could almost assume he’d been getting up to something entirely different in nature with the mercenary. Force knew that he seemed the type that’d enjoy a good smack.

Resolving to test the theory later – maybe over the late Mayor’s desk – Aver confirmed the Sith Lord’s suspicions by clicking open the hatch with enviable speed. This time, however, the firrerreo didn’t vault out in a show of strength and aplomb; this time, Aver Brand employed technology.

More to the point, she lobbed a flashbang, then followed up with a cooked frag once the high-pitched cries started outside.

“There you go; only horrifically maimed,” she quipped lightly, giving the man a mock tip of an invisible hat before actually vaulting out of the opening.

She slid down the front of the tank and ran to the end of the looming barrel, already brandishing her baton with zeal. If Adekos didn’t get cracking with the moaning and bleeding cultists outside, the blunt force trauma Aver was sure to deliver would indubitably delay his plans.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

"You sure do know how to treat a man." Adekos commented wearily as he climbed inelegantly from the tank.

Outside a tank, a few cultists were rolling about on the floor. Blood was starting to pool around some of them, which Adekos kindly avoided. There was one who was reeling from shell shock more than any life threatening injuries, so Adekos grabbed the man by the collar and hoisted him to his feet. The cultist's eyes rolled about in his head as he tried to focus on Adekos- or rather, the reflection of his own face in Adekos' mask. The cultist kept chanting some obscene nonsense even in his confused state. This did not delay Darth Adekos in starting his interrogation.

"Where are the prisoners?"

The cultist blinked a few times, as if trying to remember something, but then just repeated his chant. "Om namah shivay..."

Adekos slapped the man across the face. "I'm not going to ask again." It was important to Adekos that the prisoners be rescued. Not only was it good for PR, but if they were going to rebuild this city the Triumvirate would need at least a small faction of native constituents. Originally this extraction was supposed to take place in a very succinct, low profile manner. Contrary to what most would assume, it was actually the blundering Imperium that put a stop to that. Although that wasn't to diminish the role [member="Aver Brand"] and her fetish for being uncouth played.

"We, we killed them. Sacrificed." The cultist babbled, now gripping Adekos' arm. "When the ships, the ships, started landing outside, outside the city, that, that was what we were ordered-"

"I understand completely. In fact, I suspected as much." Adekos let go of the cultist with one hand as he slid a small syringe out of his utility belt. "Now I'm just really not going to feel bad about what happens next."

Without warning, Darth Adekos jammed the syringe into the cultist's neck and gave him a small dose. That was really all that was needed- even a small injection of his own accelerated Technovirus would multiply and overtake a subject in a matter of minutes. He yanked the syringe back out. The cultist lingered on his feet for a minute before his pupils dilated and he collapsed to the floor, spasming as the Technovirus did its work. Flesh began to either rot off or take on a strange metallic sheen. It was always a short and almost absurdly gruesome process, but so was the rest of life. For all he knew, these louts would be getting off easy compared to what they had done to the poor, unfortunate prisoners. Or more accurately: the fuel for a desperately needed propaganda machine.

Adekos removed another syringe from his belt and tossed it to Brand with the expectation that she catch it. "Inject the live ones with this. Then we'll be done here."

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olmondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"]) | Tank!
Enemies: Cultists!

Given that she was presently occupied with a mob of bloodthirsty cultists out for her… well, blood, Aver only paid marginal attention to whatever the Sith was up to. She caught a few words in that scathing tone of his over the sound of cracking bones, followed by a swift silence. Quickly, the mercenary wrapped up with the final pair – now significantly less bold after they’d witnessed her snap their co-fanatics in half – and pivoted on the spot to face Adekos as she discarded a severed head.

The sight that met her upon turning was definitely not what she’d been expecting.

Granted, she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting in the first place, but the popping, contorted body of what used to be a man certainly wasn’t it. With some sort of morbid fascination, Aver looked on as he twisted and folded in on himself, putrid flesh peeling off the metal bones underneath.

“What the frak.”

She lifted her gaze from the grisly scene to its orchestrator, arching an unseen eyebrow behind her mask. “Care to explain?” she asked even as she caught the syringe, eyeing it suspiciously in the palm of her hand.

“I seem to remember someone telling me to avoid war crimes if at all possible,” she quipped over her shoulder as she slowly made for the breathing cultists in the back of the devastated foyer. They tried to crawl away from her with their broken bodies, leaving desperate smears of red in their wake as blackened nails scraped uselessly against the polished marble floor.

“Weaponized biological mutagens released unchecked upon the general populace? Now, my law of war may be a bit rusty, but I think that’s one of the big nopes.” Aver paused, poised to inject another cultist and stared askance at the Sith Lord.

Seizing his opportunity, the man below her bucked, throwing off her balance in one last attempt to escape. Unceremoniously, the mercenary slipped in the pool of his blood and swiftly landed on her ass. She cringed at the impact that rippled up her tailbone, but ignored the discomfort and shot out her left hand.

With a strangled cry, the fleeing fanatic was ground to a dead halt halfway across the chamber as if by some unseen power, then dragged promptly back to where Aver had just picked herself up from the stone floor.

“Stay,” she growled at the man as she pressed her boot into his throat, never moving her gaze away as she waited for Adekos to speak.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

"You worry too much." Adekos said, pausing when the Brand started to have a bit of a scuffle with a cultist she was detaining. Great, now he was going to see what happened to his friend over there and redouble his efforts soon enough. "I didn't realize I was paying you enough to show concern over what I'm doing here."

The convulsions and spasming continued, suddenly the cultist rolled onto his side and vomited a large amount of blood. This was just the Technobeast's way of clearing out the leftover biological material. Nothing to be alarmed about. If anyone looked closely they would see flecks of metal among the crimson. No one had ever alleged that the transformation into Technobeast status was a pretty one. It was, however, worthy of only the degenerates of the galaxy. Like these cultists.

He continued, "War crimes can only be committed against people. Human sacrificing, rapist cult mongrels aren't people. Besides, they've already killed all their prisoners in a final act of mindless brutality. There are slim odds anyone innocent will be caught in the crossfire. The rest are fair game as far as I'm concerned."

Behind him, the still transitioning cultist stopped his spasming. One of his eyes had rotted out completely and the other was replaced with a glowing red orb. Final stages. After another few moments, the former cultist rose rigidly to his feet. Hands now ended in sharp, metallic claws. It displayed no expression or acknowledgement for anyone except Adekos, and at best it only stared blankly at him. This was all good. That meant it was working.

"Olomondo has no general populace. Not since these cretins moved in and they'll all be gone soon enough. I only told you to hold off since your style of war crime tends not to leave anything left for me to conduct research with." The technobeast wandered off past [member="Aver Brand"], searching for more cultists at the behest of a mental command. "Now, are you going to pitch in or do you want me to do it?"

 

[Aver Brand]

Location: Olomondo
Allies: [member="Darth Adekos"] | The BFFs ([member="Loray Tares"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"])
Enemies: Cultists! Adekos’ snark!

“I’m not… worried,” she scoffed, tugging harshly on the man beneath her to expose his neck. The veins throbbed violently just beneath the pale skin, betraying the utter terror coursing through his blood. Wide, fear-stricken eyes trembled as they followed the short path of the syringe, and he gave a strangled cry when the needle finally pierced the flesh in a single, smooth motion.

Depressing the piston, Aver deftly expelled the agent from the tube and discarded the contraption as she stepped away from her victim. Already, the transformation begun, consuming his broken body in a matter of seconds. Uninterested in watching a repeat performance, she turned to the Sith once more.

“Razing buildings isn’t even half as bad as this,” the mercenary spoke as she stuck a thumb in the direction of the thrashing cultist.

He screamed his agreement.

“See? All this suffering for a few creepy technology mutants?” She shook her head at the man, keeping a palpable distance between them as she spoke. “But you’re right.” A faint smile, unseen. “You’re not paying me enough to care.”

“What’s next?”

 

[Caulder Dune]

Location: Olmondo
Enemies: Cultist Pals

"Razing buildings is far worse." Darth Adekos corrected her, in a response delivered so quickly it might have been automatic- like a patellar reflex. "A building could be renovated, or even recycled for materials. These lunatics don't have any purpose beyond the aimless mayhem they've sown. They're so wrapped up in their delusions of Andeddu they're beyond saving."

He had been hoping for more than two, but he supposed given Brand's proclivity to collateral damage he should have been grateful. The technobeast continued to stand stiff right where it rose, waiting for orders from its master. As long as Adekos remained on the planet, the technobeasts would obey his commands and remain rooted to the ground until he told them otherwise. Without him present, they would just wander around aimlessly. Without instruction, the technobeasts were remarkably docile. There was no ingrained impulse for them to spread the technovirus, not unless he told them to. Darzu's creations had shared a similar trait when she died.

But then again, he was about to tell them to do just that. He was curious if they could understand the specificity of his orders in distinguishing cultists from, say, Stormtroopers. "Besides, I don't think they actually feel anything. Otherwise there would be screaming, moaning, crying don't you think?"

Adekos could have figured that would with the proper scans and medical equipment, but he hadn't bothered during the laboratory trials. There was no reason to get mired down in such grim details. These cultists had no doubt inflicted punishments just as gruesome on those they captured. Two wrongs may not have made a right, but their wrongdoings meant that Adekos was absolved of any guilt in doing this as far as he could ever be concerned. Eye for an eye, or horrific transformation plus immortal servitude for ritual sacrifice and banditry. Justice, in a cosmic kind of way. The second technobeast stood up behind Aver. Similar to the first, it waited there patiently until Adekos nodded.

Both technobeasts paired off and bolted up the stairs with no regard for [member="Aver Brand"] or Adekos. There was then the sound of thrashing, screams- the sort of sounds you'd expect as the cultists above them were assaulted by their former friends.

"They're going to spread the disease around the city one cultist at a time. We'll see how long it takes for the remainder of their number to flee or get turned into zombies." He explained. "As for us, our job is done here. We're leaving."