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Heretic Station [Knights Obsidian]

- - - - - CIS KO Karlie Lynn Destat Maple Harte Castange

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Paragon of Virtue

Paragon of Virtue

    F R E E D O M

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Castange. A beautiful planet with endlessly blue skies and pure clear water. With little to no internal strife, crime is almost nonexistent, and technological advances have ensured that their carbon footprint remained contained to acceptable levels. The world is governed by Viceroy Tarssin Destat, ensuring communication between it and the Confederacy remains an ongoing smooth process.


It was through this constant flow of communication that the Confederacy received the emergency call from Castange – constructs of the dead were marching upon the planet's capital. Quick investigation revealed part of the source; little miniature red markers that seemed to have an area of effect, manipulating dead organic matter to its will.


But who controlled these devices? Who was the mastermind behind this plot? And more importantly; what was the plot?


The first group of Knights Obsidian who were sent to further investigate unveiled a hidden space station that orbited the planet, called Heretic Station. For how many generations the station was in place and serving as a base for Darth Rigor, they could not tell. But what they uncovered gave no room for comfort; the remains of live clones made of Darth Rigor's daughter - Karlie Lynn Destat, who serves under the Internal Bureau of Investigation of the Castange System, and who also happened to be the daughter of Viceroy Destat.


The last transmission sent by the Knights Obsidian who discovered Heretic Station and its contents included further concerning reports, about pylons that release the drop pods which contain the red markers and contain the blueprints to constructing the Knights of Dead. Additionally, the report included mention of zombie-like creatures walking around the station, who after destruction inhibit the behaviors of those found on Melida/Daan, research of which had been handled by Karlie Lynn Destat herself since the Confederacy's liberation of the planet.

The original group of Knights Obsidian are dead. We do not know how they were slain, but based on the reports they managed to send, we expect the worst.


We are now sending a bigger team of Knights Obsidian and volunteers to deal with this threat, and ensure Castange, its people, and its Viceroy and his family, are safe again.




Thanks to those who have given their lives, we know where Heretic Station is. Infiltrate the station and make their way towards the main control room. The control room is guarded by a clone of Darth Rigor – a formidable Sith Lord who has cursed the entire area with darkside based rune traps that will summon Rakgouls whenever one accidentally steps on them. Find the way to take her and her minions down, and seize control of the station's control room to turn off the pylons which are making anything you slay come back to life. You will meet heavy resistances here; aside for Darth Rigor and the Rakghouls, you will also face the Force-sensitives clones of Karlie Lynn Destat, multiple heavily armed battle droids, and blaster turrets.






The second team is assigned to the planet itself. The Rigor Knights are marching on the capital. Not only are they killing anything in their path, but anything they kill becomes resurrected and just like them. Protect the city. Find the way to destroy the pylons, for as long as these are active, anything you slay will come back to life in a much worse way.






This thread was put together as a reward for Karlie Lynn Destat and Maple Harte who won the CIS Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy Contest!






Edited by Eternal Virtue, 15 June 2019 - 02:45 AM.


Madalena Antares

Madalena Antares

    The Dark Paladin of Chaos

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Location: Capital Outskirts

Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor [color altered to deep red]
Wielding: Dyntech Power Staff | Yrkaa Sidearm

Tags: Feel free to join!


Knight Commander Madalena Antares had a displeased look on her face as she reviewed the information again. It was a mess of a thing – Knights Obsidian dead, army of undead, a spooky Darth up in space, and a Confederate planet in need of protection. It was all too rare that the Knights, and specifically those she commanded and led, had to deal with domestic matters. But this… This situation demanded their involvement. She had called in every single one who was capable of helping. There were few invitations sent out, and many orders.


Too many. Too many lives had been lost in the attempt to understand what it was that was happening on Castagne. And even then… Her Knights had fought so hard. Fought to slay down the undead, only to have them rise again, along with their comrades who had fallen besides them. It was only by luck that they had realized it was the pylons that had made the difference, that gave the control. Only because a few of those damned things had been damaged at one of the battle spots.


Yet how could they remove all the pylons? Some of them were constructed to look like the ones the planet actually made use of. Shutting the entire planet down… It was a possibility, but one that Madalena hoped would be a last resort only. In the meantime though, she had dispatched a group of Archivists as well as Scientists from the Ministry, to figure out the planetary blueprints and try to solve out which were the relevant pylons and which were not. She hoped that they would have an answer before it was too late.


For the city itself, Madalena had ordered a complete lockdown. Turrets had been brought in and placed on the city edges, as well as other forms of defense whose sole job was to shoot down any undead that approached. A few Knights were at the helm, judging and shooting in case of need.


Their one place of luck? The undead zombies were slow walkers. Strong fighters, yes. A true challenge, double yes. But their legs were slow enough so that they could see them come up from the distance.


Madalena marched to where her Knights had gathered.


"Knights Obsidian!" her deep voice boomed over those who had gathered there. Those who were not already fighting, already on the turrets, or up in orbit. "You know our mission. We are here to protect, and to destroy. We are here to protect the Capital City of Castagne from the marching undead, and we are here to destroy the pylons that create them! I will be leading those who are set to destroy the pylons. You have your comms. You have your weapons. You have your training. You are all here because you have the talent, the skillset, and the hard work to back it up. Knights Obsidian, WE WILL WIN THIS DAY!"

Edited by Madalena Antares, 15 June 2019 - 03:27 AM.



Kurenai Yumi

Kurenai Yumi

    I'm too old for this

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GearOperator Class Armor-KO Pathfinder Boots-Shatory Reishūkaku-Mk1 Shadow Rifle-saber

Allied Peps: N/A

Objective: Clear LZ for other knights


This mission had proved to be deadly right from the get go, instantly after exiting the drop ship used to ferry troops inside one of the stations hanger the party was assaulted by several battle droids. The hail of fire while easy to deflect in most was concentrated, the enemy trying to take down one knight at a time and thin their limited numbers. It did not take long for a few less experienced members to fall, some wounded, others dead, never the least the group pushed on but with Kurenai taking point.


With her healing factor and immense pain tolerance the heavily armored women pushed through the incoming fire. Bolt after bolt splashing against her body, but it didn't slow her down, it only served to make her more infuriated and stronger. With a few dozen meters to spare she let forward a huge force blast, littered with tiny dark shear fragmentation, the droids bodies being pieces by the ethereal energy.


It was a victory for now, but she knew first had this part was the easiest, if the inside of the station was littered with traps their opponent wanted them to get a foot hold, only to ambush them once in. A tried and tested strategy, and one that worked well against most people... most. Sheathing her saber Kurenai turned to the boarding party, her stoic nature never changing, even with the several clear burn marks and open wounds dotting her figure.


"Move the wounded to the rear, keep an eye on that door and inform HQ we have a landing area, send them droids down, we will need some mine sweepers of sorts". If only organics could do the trick, she'd take lead again, just after she had a rest. Though though Kurenai wasn't invincible, it would take some time before her wounds healed, she'd also need a change of armor. 

Edited by Kurenai Yumi, 15 June 2019 - 06:25 AM.

Vera Mina

Vera Mina

    Blood-Sucking Lawyer

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Several Hours before the attack on Castagne...

Darth Rigor watched the planet below from a grand window in a darkened simplistic throne room lit by red crystal growths. She hadn't put on robes...she had not been into robe wearing in a very long time. She was instead clad in a long, gray gown that stopped at her ankles, though her feet were clad in black boots. She looked at that world, knowing Tarssin Destat was on it somewhere.

To her internal disgust, she felt one of her "Rigor Knights" stride towards her, clad in rotted looking armor that looked covered in fungal growth. She had always hated her ability to control and manipulate dead matter. She always had. She always would. Nothing good had ever come of it. Ever.

The Knight telepathically informed her that her cultists, the deep cover ones Tarssin and his intelligence services had never uncovered. Karlie was primed for capture. Rigor had mixed feelings about seeing Karlie Lynn Destat again. On the one hand, Rigor wanted to wring her neck for consigning her to Chaos. On the other, Rigor was irritatingly self conscious to the fact that Karlie had every right to do what she did, whether she had known what the end result would be.

"You can't say I'm not good at family reunions..." a cold, feminine rasp echoed behind her.

The curly haired blond woman with perfect golden skin scowled at her benefactor, the one who had brought her spirit back and given it a new body, albeit one whose very skin rendered Rigor one step above that of a slave to the creature smiling at her sweetly and faux-innocently, wearing a catsuit that was clearly signs of a cyberpunk fetish, almost flesh colored, but white at the arms and legs.

The Amalgam, hands folded behind her back, took a short few steps forward, that same, arrogant smirk that had made Rigor want to punch her in the face at first sight still on there.

"Me and Karlie aren't family..." Rigor clarified coldly, face getting stern. "I signed that away after killing my first daughter and taking her body. I am not the family of anyone."

The Amalgam sneered at this, having begun to spot Rigor's insecurities and doubts, the hidden guilt complex. She lacked that where her own daughters were concerned. This sentiment would prove detrimental as time passed.

"Fine, cling to your guilt complex, if you must..." The Amalgam replied wistfully, watching the planet below with Rigor. "Your clone, is it in place?"

"Yes. It won't last long. About twenty four hours. More than enough time to do what we need." Rigor answered, almost dismissing the question out of hand. "I know my work like Karlie knows hers..."

"How interesting that you are still on a first name basis..." The Amalgam jabbed, not resisting an opportunity to mentally kick her slave at every turn. She enjoyed this kind of obedience. It filled her with warm, fuzzy, tyrannical feelings. And hot sauce.

The Amalgam handed her a datapad. It was a list of Karlie's schedule. The lawyer of the target that The Amalgam was really after, Nine Lives, was on the surface with Karlie at the moment. At this point, Rigor didn't have to make too many guesses as to why. She hoped that mental blocker was still holding up, the one she had used to make Karlie avoid sex, not just because the lack of bonds with others made it easier to control her, but also for the sake of just messing with her head. (Hey, she had to get SOME kind of payback) Ah, the numerous joys of back up/retroactive trolling.

Rigor didn't want Karlie dead. She just needed her up here long enough to analyse her body while her clone provided a distraction for the CIS by mindlessly assaulting Tarssin's capital (There was also an element of payback to this, despite knowing he had every right to kill her to protect his daughter.)

She didn't actually want the capital, or the planet. Tarssin could keep both. She had long since grown past wanting to conquer a planet. She wouldn't even know what to do with one at this point. Karlie was all that mattered...

As well as whatever the Amalgam was after...

"Let's go get your blood. My clone will take things from here..."

At this the clone stepped forward from the shadows. Unlike Rigor, who had clearly aged, the clone was much closer to Karlie in age and therefore greatly resembled Karlie herself, albeit one pale and twisted by the darkness, eyes almost moldy with sulphur. She had been a rush job. She would keep it together, give the CIS a beating, but only for about a day. Clone madness would likely develop eight hours before that.

Rigor had used implants to keep the clone from turning on her, leashing her as she herself was leashed by The Amalgam, Rigor felt bad about that but seeing as how the Clone's life, short and messy as it would be, would not even exist without her, she did not feel as bad as most would have.

The Clone, stern faced and menacing, only smiled, the implants giving the Clone the controlled delusion that it was the one actually under control.

"Go, my minions," the clone hissed. "Conquer in the name of Rigor..."

The Amalgam snickered. "Oh my gods that was so awful! Tell me you didn't actually speak like a B-Holo villain.

"Yes, unfortunately..." Rigor admitted. "I was young. I was kinda new to it..."

"You are a nerd. A pathetic nerd." The Amalgam joked as the dark haired woman with dead purple eyes followed Rigor out of the throne room to prepare, while the Clone, controlled by a combination of implants as well as mental firewalls retreated to her throne, signaling the Rigor knights and minions under its command:

"Bring. Me. Karlie..."

Three hours later...

Wearing: Regenerative Dress

Armed with: Legal Tender (Combat pistol)

Law Abroad (http://starwarsrp.ne...317-law-abroad/)

Vera had been having such a good day.

First, she had arrived on Castagne to follow up on what Nine's investigation had uncovered about Karlie's mother, Darth Rigor. This had had the bonus of being around Karlie (She had packed a few "outfits" from her apartment on Azterri in case they got ANY alone time).

And it really had been a good day. The investigation into Rigor had been taking them into the palace itself, as there was a hidden lab that had been discovered there. Helping Karlie figure out how to finally kill someone who was already dead was an interesting challenge for the organic assassin droid. And while she had explored the palace she had gotten an idea of just how mysterious Karlie really was.

Vera herself wasn't a mystery. She was a killer who liked killing. Not many knew that...she had kept that a deep dark secret, even from Karlie, her design allowing her to operate as both a legitimate business woman and a vicious, psychopathic mercenary on the Confederacy payroll.

Unfortunately her design came with catches. She was near helpless in her lawyer guise. That was what had made it so easy for all those cultists that had appeared in the lab they were studying in to get the drop on her, taking Karlie while she had been buried under rubble when the lunatics released a grenade to try and kill her. The underlay in her business wear had only barely fixed the damage she had suffered before the palace guards that were actually loyal to Tarssin had dug her free.

But they had Karlie, and having the cute blonde taken from her had infuriated the artificial vampire in a way she had never been infuriated before. Taking the next four hours to switch to her mercenary guise, that of a red haired Chiss named Rom-Jin, clad in matching white dress, gloves and boots, and be on the first transport with the CIS to Heretic Station once it had been found. Her sister Magnus had flown the frieghter through the station defenses after scrambling for ammo and a last minute plan to find Karlie by any means necessary. Vera did not fully understand what was prompting her to go all in, but Karlie's scared face as they took her had given the biot all the motivation she would need.

"Hey, Sis! Mom's parking the ship above Castagne's orbit, right underneath Heretic!" Magnus, the pale skinned, red headed combat droid called out.

Vera watched from a view port while sharpening her katana as the Cruiser, sinister, gothic, and ancient, manuvered slowly underneath the great, spider shaped space station that was black against Castagne's sun. Vera guessed it was an attempt to block some of the pylons from hitting the surface--and the station was near constantly launching them...

Vera was beside herself with cold fury as the frieghter set down in the landing area Kurenai Yumi had cleared aboard the station and Magnus wished her luck. Vera didn't need luck. She had rage.

As Vera stepped off the vessel, Katana in hand, she beheld the dark majesty of the station interior. The architecture was black, glassy like obsidian, with support columns and bloody red runeson seemingly every surface. Vera hefted her all white Katana, now red eyes glaring at the droids Kurenai had dispatched as she wordlessly headed past the wounded to catch up to Kurenai.

"I have been sent by Nine Lives with a special mandate to rescue Viceroy Destat's daughter. She is being held aboard this station, likely with Rigor herself..." Vera explained in a somewhat deep yet sinister voice. No doubt Kurenai's senses would pick up that there was nothing natural about Vera. But this was not the identity for concealing what she was. This was the identity for letting it out...

And with the cold fury racing through her artificial heart, the thought that Karlie might be dead or worse, causing her processors to heat as she tried to contemplate a reality where Karlie was no longer present...

This was unacceptable. And it made Vera realize she could not leave anything to chance.

"I could use the help..." the biot said, eager to get underway. Her arrogance and vanity would normally have never permitted her to ask for help but for Karlie, Vera would swallow her pride.

There was a banging from a door ahead. It soon blasted open and dozens of tall disgusting Rigor Knights slowly marched to them, followed by a gang of Rigor's red-robed cultists, the same who had kidnapped Karlie.

With a snarl of homicidal fury, the Biot's reflexes kicked in and she rushed them, a viciously fast speed allowing her to score two blows in on the first knights that got in range, and slicing through a few cultists as well, deflecting return blows, her psychotic fury starting to push them all back as her sword attacks seemed to come from everywhere...

She would reach Karlie, and she would kill anyone that dared defy the CIS or stood in her way in the process.

Vera's face had that classic grin of a slasher villain as she disembowled another cultist, hacking into warm bodies, letting the vampire come out, her bisecting a knight, decapitating a cultist and drinking the blood that spurted like a water fountain, showering her white dress and blue skin in red (GLORY KILL!!!), gore and pieces of flesh, both healthy and long decayed fell to the ground behind her as she began shooting at her attackers.

Don't worry, Karlie. Your devil is here... the biot thought, as she bit into the neck of a cultist after driving the initial party into retreat, suffering only a few wounds on her abdomen, which bled white.(Strawman kill: 10 XP)

Edited by Vera Mina, 16 July 2019 - 11:42 AM.


Karlie Lynn Destat

Karlie Lynn Destat

    Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)

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Hours before Hell's seeds spawned on Castagne... 


The worse was once again behind her...or so Karlie foolishly once more started to believe.

Then again one could see why. She were for some reason or other smitten over an older woman...her counselor..savior...friend. So it happens with one denied all her life the true freedom of being oneself..to find love in the oddest of circumstances. 


"It was right here all along...not too far from her private chambers. " Karlie had brought Vera down along one of the family's private interconnecting hallways of the grand manor's living quarters. The Destat estate was one grand manor hands down, with many even seeing it as a palace. For this reason, there were more than enough private, secret and hidden passageways and chambers built through the generations and one in particular had recently been discovered. A secret chamber that no doubt had been constructed by Karla Linnet herself. How was the question as it had to have been done during her residency as a wife to Tarssin Destat and mother to Karlie. 


Karla had first come to be known as Tarssin Destat's lover, then wife. Her then clean records, which later proved forged, had her name as Karla Linnet Deepgaze. The how she bewitched a man like Tarssin Destat is a story to unfold at another time. The why was clear; to bare a daughter..Karla's daughter a perfect match for her to slip into her daughter's body to cheat death. Certainly there is more to this story than can be revealed here so soon. Only one must remember that Karla Linnet Deepgaze became Karla Destat, Karlie Destat's mother. But that is as far as motherhood would extend, for Karla was in reality Darth Rigor and she had jumped from daughter to daughter for many Milleniums when her offspring matured enough for her to make the transition. Karlie was no different, or so Darth Vigor had gravely underestimated this daughter.


Karlie herself for years had avoided going down these private corridors since she were a young girl. Too many memories...good loving memories that were nothing more than lies. Her experiences before her mother's demise had greatly changed her view on who and what her mother was, and why she herself had been conceived.


To the manor's security and architectural staff as to how such a chamber could come to be constructed under the very nose and scrutiny of the Destat's estate's security was still up in the air being investigated. But it had nevertheless been constructed for and used by Karlie's mom whom for prosperity sake in this tale is none other than Darth Rigor.

The secret chamber seemed to have served multiple functions, one being a lab of sort...

Just weeks ago, it had been discovered by the architectural engineers whom were set in renovating the West Wing of the manor, to expand Karlie's own private quarters. Oh it were to be a fabulous new wing, which included many amenities not usually found in private chambers, with...with-

Well, with lots of awesome amenities too long to describe for as at the moment, that project was scrapped due to the discovery of Darth Rigor's secret chambers.


Karlie led Vera to the said entrance. An entrance that were in the guise of the existing wall and decor...all marble and alabaster, mind you.

But as it were later discovered when Karlie came to check it out after it's discovery that the real entrance was tuned to her physique. The architects had happened on the chamber by knocking down a wall, opposite the main secret entrance that were set to Karlie's biometrics.


"Check this out..." She touched the marble wall with both hands and pressed her body close to it. It parted like that of an iris lens, the marble wall. It were that elaborately fashioned, and yet, no one had been wise to it's construction not a quarter century past...25 years being a good analytical guess.

Once inside, they could see where the excavator's hole was on the opposite side that had initially found the chamber.

"We've not fully took it all apart for analysis yet...but it hasn't been used for some time...not since-" She stopped there a second, as her throat seemed to clam up.

"Ahem... not for a long time..." yes, it were still very difficult, if not painful for her to recall that monster who conceived her. A creature so vile as to spawn daughters for the sole purpose of leap frogging into their bodies and defeat death incarnate.


"Odd thing....most of what is here mimics that of the remote lab destroyed on that moon." Karlie approached one of the ornate table, a lab table of sort, but elaborately made...overly expensive for such a purpose. Hell, everything here had spared no expense, much like everything else in the manor. If anything, Darth Rigor didn't seem to have skipped any corners.

The table, everything she seemed to touch, took to react to her. She ran her fingers over the marble top; it streaked with a glow, like it were some sort of touch pad. Only it wasn't as it did nothing but glow upon her touch...nothing else it seemed.

Vera was seen trying to mimic Karlie's touch upon the same exact surface..nothing, but stone cold marble.

"Neat, huh..?" Karlie turned to Vera, oblivious of the fact that the table, the marble decor was not just responding to her touch, but was in fact transmitting an alert of her presence there. The more Karlie was triggering this action, there were positive reactions from somewhere remote, that the snare had been tripped.


Rumble.... a bit dull at first, but the second shock certainly indicated something more than a tremor. The third and forth got louder and closer, with some chips of ceiling marble and dust dropping to the floor.

"What the frak?!" Karlie knew better than the manor coming under attack. It had defenses out-the-ass!


The telltale sirens, the areal alarms suddenly could be heard down the corridors. Karlie braced herself hands on the marble table as more impacts were felt throughout the manor. She literally didn't know what to make of it, much less do, as she had never in her wildest nightmares ever thought the manor could come under attack. 


"Whoa...who the frak are they?!" She shouted, spotting ominous figures, certainly not Castan security coming through the open hole in the wall from the excavators.

"No no, VERA DON"T!" Karlie screamed as apparently the older woman for some reason or other went on to take them on...or what. It was still Karlie's belief that her father's Castan guards, marines no less, would soon show up and show these clowns a thing or two.


But to Karlie's horror, these unidentified assailants jumped on Vera, seemingly trying to easily overtake a surprised woman that stood in their line of interest; Karlie. But to their surprise they had apparently come across a womanwho's Adrenalin must have tipped the scales or something, as Vera was for a few heavy first rounds holding her own...the line per say. 

"Aaaahhhk..." Karlie screamed as some got through Vera despite her way unexpected fighting skills. Something by which Karlie had not come to expect from a lawyer. Like...like it was hand to hand combat for some odd reason or other. Like..who infiltrates a top security grand manor, Tarssin Destat's home no less, and don't bring weapons?


"...eeeEEEK!!...." Karlie kept screamed dodging one ghoul or whatever it was, and then another, around the table... over the table...jumping from table to chair, to cabinet, then back on table and so on and so on. Good Lord Palpatine, it was almost too comical if it weren't for the fact that more and more of them were coming in and wereoverpowering poor Vera... who by now had little of her form fitting dress intact, as it was almost completely ripped, fighting off these...these whatever they were.


But of course they were not here for Vera, but Karlie. It seemed they had indeed come for her unarmed, as far as brandishing or using any energy weapons. Apparently whomever had sent them certainly didn't wish to accidentally hurt or kill Karlie. But what they hadn't anticipated was Karlie's guest. The determination of her counselor friend in taking to protecting her client too literally. The woman Vera was proving to be quite an adversary considering the horde of minions she were dispatching. 


It weren't till Karlie ran out of clear places to jump and scurry around that one finally nabbed her by the ankle as she made to crawl under one of the tables. And up she were pulled like a fish on a hook. It took no time at all for three more to get a hold of her, each grabbing hold of one of her extremities. They then quickly scooted her out through the open hole, as she continued to squirm, trying to kick and punch. Just that they had her by the legs and arms.

"Eeek...let go of me!.... frak you!...you you pieces of dung!...Let me frak'n go!...you rot in hell..." ...yadi yadi yadi it went...typical Karlie cussing and fussing as she were being hauled away down the corridor.


Her last view of Vera was one that made Karlie give up her own struggle. One of the minions who were carting her off, threw something back, towards the melee where Vera and those others were. That something turned out to be a thermal detonator.

To her horror as the percussion deadened her sense of hearing, she saw what seemed to be taking place in slow motion; Vera along with the remaining minions being blown apart. There was no mistaking the fact that it had gone off right at their feet, as Vera's body along with the minions and debris were scattered about in the blast.  

That, along with the stone marble ceiling and whatever, all came caving in on them, before all the dust obscured it all.

At that moment, it weren't just Vera's body that died. Karlie's heart also gave up the fight, giving in finally to the foursome. What happened after that didn't much matter or register, as the image of Vera replaying over and over in Karlie's head was too much for the blonde to bear. She lost consciousness.


...or, one of the minions had enough sense to finally stun their little prize.  

The latter made more sense as it would be quite a battle still to get a Destat off the premises and her being unconscious would make it that much more easier.


Hours later...


Karlie's eyes flickered a moment before they remained closed. 

"The drug was timed..." a female voice was heard, almost chuckling at Karlie's effort in faking to remain unconscious.

"Pft..." She opened her eyes turning to the direction of the woman's voice.


"What the?..." Karlie had to blink trice to realize it were some kind of flesh colored body suit the woman was wearing.


Ok...so who the frak was this bitch? PoCWL3X.jpg


Edited by Karlie Lynn Destat, 18 June 2019 - 06:10 AM.



    Knight of Decay

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Above Heretic Station, a lone Scimitar-2 pushed towards the station slowly. It was cloaked, invisible to all as it came closer and closer. If on was able to gave through the stealth field, a black speck would have appeared on the underside of the hull of the ship. Dozens of tendril like “legs” clung to the underbelly. Hundreds of thousands of microscopic needle like cilia pushed between the molecular bonds of the metal, which kept the being firmly in place. The black suit that covered him remained motionless inside the dampening field of the ship. As it approached the station, only once in range did the ship decloak. It's shields went down, and the peregrine system activated, allowing it to slice cleaning through the stations shielding.


The vacuum of space, it took Trajan back as he clung to the ship. As a Starweird, he didn't need to breath, and had been born in the vacuum of space. It was an old friend. How many ships had he caught a ride on in a semi-similar manner throughout his life? While the suit bound him to a corporal existence, he kept many of his innate abilities. Though, he admitted, this mission would be so much easier if he could still float through walls, and use every ounce of his force power. But the cost was too high. He had worked hard to gain control of his mind, he wouldn't allow his nature to take it away from him.


His lightsaber hung at his waist, on his wrists the Mandalorian bracers that brat had made rested. As much of a pain as she was, she was brilliant at creating new things to use. White smiling looking mask looked at the station as it floated closer. His green eyes glowed brightly in excitement, as he used his legs, the tendrils and the force to launch himself off from the scimitar as it skimmed the surface. As he rocketed towards the surface, tendrils reached out, and grabbed hold of the surface. Like some mutant many legged spider, the Sith crawled across the surface of the station until he found what he was looking for. A repair droid port. While small, it would serve his needs. Hands worked quickly on a remote slicing unit. Soon, the hatch opened. The large being squeezed himself almost impossibly into the hole, the tendrils reaching out, writhing, and wriggling, as they pulled him through the small space. If he had bones, this may have been difficult, but....It was still painful. Pain was a fairly new concept over all in his life, rarely had anyone been capable of making him feel it. But, if the suit could feel it, so could he.


Once inside, his hand awkwardly worked on the remote slicing unit once more, and the inner door opened. Tendrils pulled him out, and immediately latched onto the ceiling, where he began to crawl. The sensors in his mask were on high alert, as were his force sensing abilities. The feel of the darkside surrounded him, and he carefully avoided areas where it felt there were higher concentrations. He soon reached the door to the droid bay and opened it, once more he crawled along the ceiling with the many black legs.


Not far away, he reached an airlock. A brief comm message was sent out, directing the scimitar where to dock. As the ship docked, his tendrils lowered him closer towards the ground and he linked in a datapad to the airlock controls. Quickly the Knight began to override the security. As soon as the Scimitar docked, the airlocks synchronized, and opened. Tendrils moved Trajan away from the airlock, but kept him firmly on the ceiling for now. The being waited for his comrades, guarding the opening airlock from any sudden attack. It was time to show this station who the true monsters were. It was not the creatures that had already been inside.

Kurenai Yumi

Kurenai Yumi

    I'm too old for this

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GearOperator Class Armor-KO Pathfinder Boots-Shatory Reishūkaku-Mk1 Shadow Rifle-saber

Allied PepsVera Mina

Objective: Clear LZ for other knights


Kurenai was off to the side of the makeshift beach head, medic treating the wounded, personal getting more gear for the impending assault. The experienced knight standing at a command table, reduced to a tank top and jeans as she worked over some armor. Back scorch marks dotted her body, but if one looked very close they would see the areas of burnt skin slowly subside, her healing factor having almost repaired most wounds.


​The women's hand grasping several tools was picking away at her armor, replacing the damaged sections with new one from a supply locker to the side. Her gaze not moving from the work, not even when some unidentified women came up, seeking and audience with her. Well, women was a strong word, she could sense the being wasn't human, the smell was off, so was the force and their over all movement and voice screamed such.


"Ni Ne hu... interesting", her tone ever the same, no changing from it's stoic ways, it carried a sense of 'not giving a kark' as her hand continued to work on the armor. Replacing one last panel of armor the vampire finally decided to bother looking at the new arrival, her expression was far from impressed, a notable scowl on Kurenai face. "Perhaps I could help, but I do have my own mission and objectives to meet, I can't simply put those aside, even for someone representing Ni Ne".


​Any more conversation was rudely interrupted by a counter attack from within the station, the new arrival quickly flying into the fray without a moments notice. A cocked eyebrow was the only real reaction gained from Kurenai before she too leaped into the towards the fight, though without any armor for protection, no real problem. The other knights rallied around her, the two forces crashing against one another in a flurry of strikes and slashes, Kurenai and the newcomer carving a path through the enemy forces, though out of the two the black haired girl was far more brutal.


If she had to describe the words it would be pure evil, but as long as she was on their side the Knight didn't care what she looked or did to their enemies, they deserved no mercy anyways.

Tarssin Destat

Tarssin Destat


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Viceroy Tarssin Destat; more to the man than what many presently presume.


Where would a Viceroy be if his/her system were subjected to foreign aggression, one could ask?

Constantine, the Capital of Castagne. More to the point, the Viceroy would be within the fold of the Executive branches orchestrating planetary defenses and counter measures. 


What had at first begun as a few reported isolated incidences had quickly manifested into a full planetary assault it seemed. There had been little warning at all for nothing had emerged from the folds of hyperspace. The planetary defenses had all been orchestrated for such a scenario from deep space, only nothing triggered these defenses as nothing was detected from hyperspace. by the time the assault had manifested to the point of full out planetary alert, the pods had for the most part littered much of the populated districts on Castagne.


It weren't that Castagne didn't have adequate military defenses, as it certainly did. Only that it were spread even beyond it's system for it had dedicated a good portion of it's military strength to the CIS. What seemed to have failed was the very fact that all of it's defenses had been prepared for a foreign deep space attack. No one, but no one had ever suspected a sleeper station withing it's system that had launched a surprise attack.

By the time the general alarm and protocols were initiated, the planet had already been swarmed by pods and it's designed effects.


The Cabinetry along with it's executive branches were now struggling to catch up and contain the un-containable. And what made that difficult, was that there had been no focused assaults on the planet, nor on it's key military bases and platforms. What Castagne was experiencing were random attacks throughout and surrounding it's major and minor cities, along with rural districts. The attacks for all intent and purposes seemed to be random targets, if they were even tactical targets at all. It made no sense, but it definitely taxed all of the military and law enforcement reserves. 


The Cabinetry, which included the executive branches and the Admiralty could not analyse the aggressor's offensive attack strategy to efficiently counteract the assault. It made no sense whatsoever the random drops and assaults. 

Aside from the reanimation of the dead, this seemed an upscale version of what had been reported on Melida/Dan, just less than a year prior. Naturally the fail-safe apocalyptic countermeasures for the walking dead had been initiated...'Take out the reanimated dead with full prejudice' 

But that itself quickly proved itself as ineffective as it had on Melida/Dan. 

Tarssin along with the Cabinetry had no recourse but to put the call for CIS support. in turn, that would also recall it's own military reserves that Castagne had dedicated to the CIS.


Hours later...


Tarssin's own home, like all homes on Castagne were a secondary defense objective, as first it would be to stop the current growing aggression cold. As thus the Destat Estates and grounds were under local security lock-down, like most high profile residences. Only that an emergency transmission from the estate's security chief had come in before it was gravely terminated at the source...' Whitehouse Down...' 


"Sir, we've dispatched interceptors on the mark 48 seconds ago when the red-code 6 came in. They should be there within two minutes..." One of the general staff at the war room informed Tarssin.


"2 minutes..." Tarssin repeated, before he acknowledged another countermeasure over the Capital's Northern district that he were focusing on at the time. 


"They were the closest group engaging over the Eastern Distric-3. " the man continued, trying to explain that everything was in the air and ground already. They had no reserves the way this current situation with the pods and the un-dead were continuing to spread.

"Sir....still no word from your daughter..."


Tarssin's features tensed up before he turned to his chief of staff. "Where is Colonel Sade?" Tarssin asked, knowing quite well his daughter along with a guest were at the estates.





Edited by Tarssin Destat, 18 June 2019 - 09:21 AM.



Ian Sade

Ian Sade


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"They are CIS..." Sade held up his hand, halting the Tecknor's batteries a moment.


The Castan SD Tecknor, one of several in the fleet had been in orbit over Castagen when the station appeared in the system and started it's bombardment of pods. The rest of the Castan naval Fleet were on maneuvers and participating in several CIS campaigns. Castagne system up until 300 hours Castan time had been relatively quiet and peaceful as it had been for the last decade and a half.

The last assault on the system had been during a rife, involving a dissident aggressor, a sith whom had been discovered to have infiltrated Castan's high command.


Sade was a young lieutenant at the time serving in the Castan marines. It had been a dark time for Castagne, as the aggressor at the time had been no other than the wife of the Viceroy himself. Sade had previously known her as Karla Linnet Destat. Had even taken a dance with the First Lady at one of the balls hosted by Tarssin at the Destat Estates. he, along with Tarssin and everyone had no clue or any inkling to suspect that very same beautiful woman was a dark twisted psychopathic sith, known to her minions as Darth Rigor. 


That civil war was 15 years past, and since; Castagne had sustained a peaceful and prosperous decade and a half. That is until early this morning. Again, it had started a a small isolated incursions...nothing warranting the military to call for a red-six. Castagne had good established law enforcement and order under civilian control that were at first handling it with no reported problems.

Then like a raging virus as more and more pods made their mark on the surface with reports of the undead rising up and walking; it turned quickly into a crisis. Where the pods were dropping from was soon discovered to be a cloaked station. a station that was soon revealed to have been in high orbit for over a decade or two. At least that was what the initial reports had indicated before the investigators, a mixed team of Castan marines and Obsidian Knights were able to transmit before they were terminated.


The SD Tecknor had then moved into firing range and started it's bombardments on the station. It was well armored with efficient high regenerating shields. It had been designed to withstand such an assault by a capitol ship. Still, hammering it with full ship batteries did little to stop the pods from deploying, they had to be targeted individually and with smaller ships. as thus, the Tecknor had launched it's interceptors who were busy trying to destroy the pods as they random;y rained down upon Castagne's surface.


"...they are ally crafts...cease fire..."Sade had halted the Technor's batteries with the arrival of CIS allies. It had become clear that the station was well defended against a full blown assault from a Capitol ship's heavy guns. But smaller crafts were able to circumvent the broader defenses and get through...at a heavy loss. 

More Obsidean Knights no doubt...


There was little more he could do up in the Tecknor. The fighter groups were out doing their best in taking out the pods before they entered the surface, but with the quick rapid random deployments and their evasive vectoring thrusters, many pods were still getting through the orbital line of defense.


"Concentrate firepower at the station's core center...if anything it'll draw more of it's generative power...hopefully exhausting it's reserves..." It was wishful thinking, but something to be tried, as bombarding it as they were was doing little to disrupt it's deployment of pods.


"I'm giving you command of the ship, Commander Frey. I'm heading down to the surface and check on my ward and company." Sade stated, getting up from the command chair.

Yes, he had another priority playing on his mind now. The current situation had jumped up a few levels from crisis to hectic down on the surface and both the local authorities and ground based military and air-force were overwhelmed. 

He had standing primary objectives to watch over the Viceroy's daughter. Now was as as good time as ever to follow that protocol...




Edited by Ian Sade, 19 June 2019 - 09:14 AM.


Scherezade deWinter

Scherezade deWinter

    The Blood Hound

  • Codex Judge
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Location: Safe LZ

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives  | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets

Tags: Kurenai Yumi Trajan




There was no friggin' way she was bringing her own ship to this mission. Sure, Scherezade had taken more than a few piloting lessons recently, yet when she read the mission briefing she knew right away that she was not putting her own personal ship in any sort of danger. With things in a hidden space station and orbit were going on, she needed something that would be less dangerous and less potentially lethal to what she now considered to be one of the very few family heirlooms.


Receiving the confirmation that a safe landing zone had been provided by Kurenai Yumi, Scherezade carefully brought the KO-assigned ship in, being super careful. It had been a lonely journey, without her beloved Baal and Duckie. There was a certain presence that Scherezade wasn't sure whether she actually felt or her mind was making up to deal with the lonely trip to Castagne, but soon enough she let it go. After all, the ship was empty aside for herself, and there was nothing she knew of that could've survived outside of it while she was in hyperspace. Unless you counted space whales. And she was pretty sure there were no space whales near this part of the galaxy.


Once landed, parked, and doors safely opened, again came that sensation that she couldn’t quite place. What was it she was sensing? Did it have to do with Heretic Station? Was there something else going on?


Marching directly to where she could sense Pathfinder Kurenai Yumi, Scherezade nodded to the woman by her and all those who were gathered, still peeking over her shoulder to see if the presence she'd felt Trajan) was there.


"Status report?" she asked, flashing the energy vampire and the woman next to her a warm smile. Other Knights were there as well, and suddenly they were in the middle of combat. Scherezade's blades slipped from her back and clothes, rising into the air and spreading out like a fan. She moved with the elegance of a snake, her body twisting in bending in the ways that it needed as she moved between them, the control of her knives nailed down perfectly as they moved ahead of her, hacking and slashing as though they were preparing sushi.




This was going to be fun.



Krystal Estain

Krystal Estain

    Smart girls don't win by being polite.

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Tags: Kurenai Yumi Trajan Scherezade deWinter 

Objective: Kill the Clones. 

Wearing and Wielding: Trinity armour, Sith Blade, Verpine Shatter Rifle, DL-44 Pistol (modified, with glitter bullets), and KC-95 Ace of Spades Blaster, as well as various knives and small explosives.


Krystal was never really prepared for how fast these things started to go south. Sure, they were arriving on a hostile space station with known deaths, sith clones, and karking zombies, but couldn't a girl get a second to take her bearings anymore? One moment, Scherezade was inquiring as to the mission status, the next they were all under attack from gods-knew-what.  


She fell back and let Yumi and Scherezade force their way through, guarding their rear for forces that got any ideas.She wielded Danzatore, her preferred blade for this type of combat, and slashed away at the droids and clones that were attacking. She perhaps thought this too soon, but Krystal was grateful that there were no undead, at least not yet. Swinging at another droid that had come quite to close for comfort, she shouted to Scherezade or anyone else in earshot. "Status -- being attacked, already," she joked. "So, about a plan?"  Krystal hadn't really done her homework -- she had no idea about the layout of the station or the nature of the threats they would face, further than the sith lord at the heart. Although, considering how the first mission had gone awry, did any of them have that knowledge? 


If anyone did, it would be Scherezade. The knight was leading the fray, and she did so with the grace and ease of a dancer performing a well practiced routine. Krystal watched as her knives followed her through the air as she spun, before quickly snapping back to the problem at hand -- a battle droid that had evaded the two knights standing before her. As it flew full tilt at her, she simply watched it, until Krystal struck like lightning with her dark sword to disable the droid. One, two, three -- and it was no more than a heap of scrap to be salvaged after the battle.


Krystal would simply keep slaughtering the enemy forces until someone offered some... direction to this madness.



Edited by Krystal Estain, 23 June 2019 - 03:27 PM.





Vera Mina

Vera Mina

    Blood-Sucking Lawyer

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Dodge. Duck. Jump. Cut. Vera's inhuman nature was betrayed by the mechanical, efficient manner in how she cut through the cultists. Each kill calculated and leading to the next kill in some way, each step waltzing her to and often through her next opponent.

But she caught snippets of how Kurenai Yumi butchered. The sociopath felt, in spite of the burning, feral hate towards those who had kidnapped Karlie Lynn Destat , a revelation occuring.

There is a difference between theory and practice. Vera had, up to that point, engaged in practically every form of torture and butchery her databases covered, most of it practiced on captured non CIS Sith, rival lawyers, mercenaries, but watching Kurenai, Vera realized she didn't understand even a quarter as much about cruelty as she thought. The artificial vampire studied the natural Vampire's experience and brutality, her enhanced learning processors heating as she studied the new information, even as she ripped the filthy Rigor Knights in half, trying to emulate Yumi's savagery the way a parrot mimics speech and not quite succeeding. Sure, her own attacks became even more savage, but it was a savagery born of spite, not passion. Perhaps Vera was suddenly self conscious as she realized that Kurenai was a vampire, due to Nine's databases. New faces that the biot had not processed before, Scherezade deWinter and Krystal Estain joined the fight against the deadly wave of strong and surprisingly fast, mold and spore covered warriors in rotted knightly armor, a stench coming from them at close range, like mold in a wall.

Vera's pearl white katana dashed through rotted armor and dead flesh, not enjoying her slaughter as she usually did. Not when for all her knowledge, she was so clearly a machine in how she killed. She had to learn to kill like an organic killed if she was ever to truly be a master. No amount of technical artistry made up for genuine experience.

Vera was not inclined to humility...she lacked the processing power required...but she could recognize a better killer.

As a matter of fact...this was Vera's very first ever encounter with another vampire besides her own creators. Being so obsessed with Karlie, it simply had not registered to Vera the first time around the magnitude of the occasion. To Vera's slowly growing fascination, she noticed that Kurenai's beauty was ironically more like an android in the almost too finely sculpted features. Nine had done her best to avoid the uncanny valley in making her daughters, save for Meier, who had never been meant for deployment in the civilian sphere beyond the most cursory of interactions. Kurenai's beauty reminded Vera greatly of that of her youngest sister but more severe somehow: Meier's features while deliberately crafted by Nine to be as gorgeous as possible to lower the caution of as many humanoids as possible, still retained a few flaws so as to not instantly warn another living being as to her artificiality. That Kurenai could be beautiful to a nearly inhuman level of perfect yet still not instantly cause beings to wonder if she were not some statue given life told Vera that Nine's approach to avoiding uncanny valley was fundamentally flawed. It didn't matter how perfect you looked: it mattered how you acted. How...organic you could be.

For all Kurenai's perfection of form, every movement, every act of cruelty, was still clearly the product of organic thought and muscle, of multiple lifetimes of mistakes. Vera had only what her databases provided. She could actually learn now but without her databases she would be little to no challenge.

If she ever wanted to be able to do what Kurenai or even her own mother could, she would have to find some way of bridging the gap. She would have to stop thinking like a machine.

But however beautiful Kurenai was, she lacked that need for Vera that Karlie had.

There was a temporary lull in the fighting, near endless reinforcements starting to die down. The station public announcements system flared to life.

"All hands, reinforce pylon bombardment of Castagne. Dispatch fighters to heavy command cruiser in pylon distribution path."

The Morpheus. Its shields were powerful but they hadn't made a dent in the defenses. They clearly didn't care how many they had lost already.

Vera started to think past her rage. She spotted an obsidian security office with dusty, ancient terminals filled with skeletons. Vera was shocked as she went through the system computers, which flickered on at her touch.

"This isn't a sincere military effort..." she said to herself. "They would never leave a security station in such disrepair...they don't care what happens to this place..."

Vera began checking and accessing the security cameras, finding Rigor Knights and cultists massing toward the pylon assembly and deployment bays, ancient and gothic looking in architecture.

Vera's blood seemed to feel cold as her glowing red eyes spotted an army of deformed Karlie's, armed with lightsabers, heading towards their position, some heading to the main control room.

To save Karlie, she would have to kill all the 'I-can't-believe-its-not-Karlie' clones.

Vera marched out of the security office, fully healed.

"We have clones heading to our position. They look armed with lightsabers...we have minutes before they show. They have also reinforced the main control room and pylon assemblage. Ideas?" Vera asked.


The Amalgam stared at Karlie with a smirk as she awoke. They were in Heretic Station's grand laboratory, constructed in an elaborate, exagerrated brutalist style, with sharp, yet imposing angles, gigantic carvings of Rigors face bearing down on Karlie from above.

"Welcome to Heretic, Miss Destat..." The Amalgam cooed, slinking over with a serpents grace to the restrained Karlie.

"Oh, they must want you back bad..." the Shi'ido whispered, pulling out a small camera, taking a photo.

"So mommy has something to remember you by in case something unfortunate happens..." the witch explained. "Speaking of the devil..."

The hard click of heels on a stone floor made themselves known getting closer and closer, each click a funeral bell.

"I am well aware it won't make a difference, telling you this..." Rigor admitted stepping out from the shadows of a gigantic electric coil. "But I had actually intended to skip you...Curse an old fool for not sticking to the procedure and getting weary."

Rigor stopped at the examination table, her cold beauty a dark counterpart to Karlie's. Like much of her existence was.

"Hell of a solution by the way...if you can't beat the game...don't play it. Its not easy, an adept willingly severing themselves from their birthright..." Rigor trailed, slender, sun-bronzed skin having a sheen to it as her fingers danced at the edge of the table as a look of absolutely insane bitterness crossed her features before going back to that same calm, impassive stare at Karlie.

"Wish I'd thought of it..." she remarked tersely. The Amalgam then yawned loudly, making Rigor slowly, deliberately turn her head to the witch and fix a cold stare to her. The Amalgam yawned again, stretching.

"Are you always this...flippant?" Rigor asked pointedly, though her voice did not raise.

"Are you always this...dull?" The Amalgam shot back.

Rigor narrowed her eyes.

"You only make your eventual punishment all the more severe..." Rigor replied before focusing on Karlie. The Amalgam snorted and departed the lab for her part of the operation.

"I don't think there is a cleaning agent yet invented that can wipe the smirk off her face." Rigor joked darkly. "So Karlie, before we get started...I have time for questions...I am sorry about all the programming, but I didn't plan on you cheating death. At all. Shouldn't have given you a name so close to mine. It made me hesitate." Rigor admitted.


Kurenai Yumi

Kurenai Yumi

    I'm too old for this

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GearOperator Class Armor-KO Pathfinder Boots-Shatory Reishūkaku-Mk1 Shadow Rifle-saber

Allied PepsKrystal Estain Scherezade deWinter

Objective: Clear LZ for other knights


Even without her armor Kuernai was not someone you took lightly, the force more then making up for the women's lack of protection. Skin hardening when glancing shots impacted against her arms, that same arm then usually finding it's mark against the enemy, each elbow carrying the weight of a racing speeder, sending bodies flying into the nearby walls, quite a few times in more then one piece. Even though that all the women still danced with refined technique, the end of her blade moving through the sea of enemies like it was water. At no point did Kurenai loose momentum during the fight, constantly moving forwards into the swarm of enemies.


It had been quite a while since she needed to put this much effort into a fight, usually she was content with simple and basic moves, batting away opposition like it was nothing. More then often most fights she had been in under the CIS were not even warm up though today was different. Even if the enemy was not of note, the shear scale of them was enough to warrant a decent fight, her muscles starting to burn from extended use.


It was unfortunate such a nice time had to end early, soon the incoming waves withered away, some sense of order returning to the hanger bay. "Set up a barricade up ahead, don't let them push back into the hanger, contact the fleet and tell them to get evac ships down for the wounded". She didn't really care who took up her orders only that someone did while she returned to her makeshift FOB processing the information coming in bye Vera Mina, her identity still unknown to herself. "... you said this place was in a state of disrepair right? also our enemy has not strategy, just throwing people at us with weapons and nothing more". 


Slowly an idea came to mind as she slowly redressed in her armor, turning to the other two women that had arrived on the ship."If we cause hull breaches at certain points in this ship we can wast away their numerical advantage, this docking bay is the only place under our control and our target is in one spot, eveything else in between is collateral". Still, that did not mean it would be easy, they would need some method to control where these breaches happened as to no rip the station apart.


Karlie Lynn Destat

Karlie Lynn Destat

    Conspiracy Theorist and Investigator (IBI)

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  • 576 posts

Karlie stared at her a moment, all the while testing her restraints. 

Heretic Station? How long had they sedated her to transport her to some godforsaken station, at god knows where. and who...WHO wanted her back?..the minions who had interrogated her before? Hadn't they been.... taken care of?.... neutralized?

"Frak...not this again..." her thoughts revisited what remnant memories recalled of that last ordeal. Little did Karlie realize how right she were to think that, as this very same woman had been present there also.


She had a feeling that begging for her life and liberty were going to fall on deaf ears...as thus, she wasn't going to give this woman the pleasure. Oh hell no.

Then again, she wasn't under the influence of pain. Pain, wasn't one of Karlie's strongest points. Especially if it were in the amplitude of what she had experienced not a few months prior. THAT pain, she'd fold again like a whining puppy. But so far, no pain...as thus, she were defiant, strong willed...resistive and certainly not giving the woman the time of day if she asked it in a nice way.


Then, all of the sudden, it all flashed again...the detonator...

No wait, that was a flash of a camera. Still, the flash triggered the rush of memory...that shocking moment when- 




"Gasp..." The recent fresh memories of what had happened suddenly flooded her thoughts... hit her right smack in her heart for that matter.

Ok, it were more in her gut, her stomach really, as she felt the panic, the rush of blood and nausea of seeing Vera engulfed in the explosion...THE BASTARDS!!!


"Grrr..." She struggled more to get her hand...at least one hand free so that she could tear the woman's throat out...or at least scratch her enough to give her something to remember Karlie by...

She had killed Vera... sweet sweet Vera...her Vera...


"Arrrrgh... pant pant...Arrrrg....pft... " She twisted and contorted her arm to break out of her bonds, but to no avail. The pain she was self inflicting in her futile struggle however were in so many ways welcome. It took some of her heart's pain away. But like the last time she were strapped in as such, Karlie found herself completely helpless to do anything but feel sorry for herself. only this time she wasn't. Not feeling sorry, but angered, furious for them to have killed her only friend... her only love...Vera... 



"Gah... pant pant..." Karlie finally gave up, utterly spent for the moment in trying her bonds. They were just as firmly set on her as they had been when she had been taken-


"Frak...not this again..." her thoughts revisited what remnant memories recalled of that last ordeal. Little did Karlie realize how right she were to think that, as this very same woman had been present there also. 



Karlie's eyes blinked. She had not expected the woman to take a picture of her. The insolent bitch, Karlie silently cussed in her head as she summoned up a good wad of spit. So OK, she couldn't get her hand free and make the bitch hurt, but she could certainly give the bitch's stupid looking face something to go along with that two credit's worth of what had been an attempt at wearing make-up-




"W-what...the.... frak...GASP!...gulp, cough..cough..." she inhaled her own spit, actually chocking on it as her eyes focused on the imagery..the god damn likeness of what she recognized from her nightmares past and present of..her mother.

There it was... right above the bitch was a rendition of her freakin mother!

Karlie's eyes shot across to her left, her right...there were several of them, all dotting the walls, the ceiling of whatever this place was. 


"Wha-..." She were about to ask what place was this, when to her horror an all too familiar voice hit her like a cold block of stone. No, she had not picked up on someone else approaching, in heels or not. She had been too angry, to ill stricken over her Vera to follow her one main basic training when incarcerated and that was to know your surroundings in detail. but then again, graduating at the top of her class in the IBI only meant she was study smart, not practical as in experiences. So no, Karlie with all her certified training and impeccable grades never saw the devil herself coming.


"Gah gah...gah..." She were taking in air but not exhaling, the fear, the panic ...gah..gah... her heart rate racing so fast she were hyperventilating as her blood weren't picking up free oxygen fast enough from her lungs.


The other woman could just as well have vanished, as she all but disappeared from Karlie's conscious. 

"Gulp...pant..pant..." she barely remained conscious in her panic, as her mother towered over her, with the large carved renditions of the same woman behind her. for a split moment the two were in perfect pose bearing down on her.

"Gasp..." Karlie closed her tear soaked eyes. She was done for.


This was it...


She stopped struggling, her body relaxed as her end was inevitable...it were over. With only the bruises on her arms and legs from the bonds she had struggled against before she submitted to her fate were the only evidence left of her attempted resistance.

Darkness was her only sanctuary now, as her eyes remained closed for she had given up the will to even open them anymore...it made no difference now. If there was hole she could crawl into, she'd be curled up in a ball and await the inevitable.

The only thing she had left were the few minutes or less she would be afforded to escape awhile in her memories. Memories that her own mother would take from her, like she were going to take her life.

Karlie's life had been nothing more than afleeting dream...

...oh Vera...Vera I loved you...




tkCHFab.jpgKarlie's spirit, from when it first came to be whole, suddenly flashed through the darkness void of self pity and sorrow. It were Karlie at an adolescent age that defined her even now, complete. It were the standard of what made her up to this hour...this moment before surrendering it all to this wicked demon...her mother.

But at that age, Karlie were of gold, strong, pure in heart and spirit, free and one whom would never give up. Especially herself to anyone... not till her last dying breath.


Well?...  her true spirit dwelling deep inside spoke up, breaking through the muddle of self pity. We're still breathing, you!

Open your eyes and look at her. LOOK at her and defy her.



Karlie's eyes shot open, iris's homing in at the demon overshadowing her. Karla were all into herself, talking up a storm...monologuing. It weren't like that at all when her role had been of mother. Karlie had been spared meeting the demon inside her mother. It were only after her father had rid her mother that Rigor (Karla) started to haunther dreams, both waking and asleep.

While her mother was alive, Karlie only knew her as warm, loving...as her teacher, her best of friend, her confidant, her EVERYTHING!

But that had all been a front. An act that her father discovered in time to save his daughter from an evil entity before it set itself on devouring Karlie and taking over her body....or had it been an act?


Karlie as a young girl torn from her mother then horrorly found herself in the middle of a civil domestic war... a war that transcended through the very ranks of Castagne. Her mother it seemed had set many plans within plans in motion and dormant, while nurturing her daughter, kneading Karlie's skills and connection to the force so that Rigor could slip into her daughters body like a good fitting slipper.


"No!....pant....pant..." Karlie finally found her voice to speak, although still a bit winded. Of course it were her spirit breaking through all of the rubble, the self pity, the fear, the hopelessness that Karlie had cowered under. But this spirit was indeed Karlie. Karlie before her world collapsed. Karlie before her mother exposed who she really was. 

Karlie who now seemed to have a revelation...or the last glimmer of light before her candle were snuffed out. But nevertheless, it were bright...and it stood against the storm that which it found itself under.

She weren't going out quietly...and certainly not whimpering....Ahem, well just as long as there was no pain involved. But she weren't going to let Mommy Dearest know that. 


"No, it wasn't my name.

It wasn't my name that had you trip up and stumble...pant...pant..." damn, why was it so difficult to catch her breath?

Ahhh, yes of course...her heart rate was still doing the marathon. There was no denying bright spirit or not, Karlie were peeing in her pants, she was so scared still.


"I was you...pant pant...

You, when you were like me.

You...pant pant...you loved me. You didn't fake that...I'd know.

You saw yourself again for the first time since you became who you are, and you stuttered.....hesitated...pant pant." The tears exerted were not one of self pity but one for the mother she once knew who had loved her. Maybe truly loved a daughter for the first time ever in her thousands of years of pitiful existence. 

Maybe for a time as she nurtured her future temple to inhabit, Rigor did feel a true mother's love (as Karla) for a daughter...enough true love to even consider dying for her.


But that too could have been a fleeting moment in Rigor's insanity...








Edited by Karlie Lynn Destat, 17 July 2019 - 06:06 PM.


Confed1.gif MxrftsV.png?1

Ian Sade

Ian Sade


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He could see first hand upon his descent to the planet's surface as to why the pods were difficult to shoot down before they broke atmosphere. They had retro-thrusters coupled to invasive battery recognition. in simple terms, smart drops. Same tech as had been developed on Castagne two decades ago.

Odd they had not developed countermeasures to this type of assault. Then again, part of that tech had been developed by-


Sade shook his head. Crazy thoughts..crazy assumptions. These reported bombardments were nothing more than a coincidence. Besides, they were not tactically deployed efficiently but in an apparent random order, if there was any order in the drops. Which for hours on end there hadn't. Even with them shooting down more than half launched, they were still being randomly deployed with only battery (firepower) avoidance. This made little sense to Sade as the pods had all the capability of being precision guided which would have taxed their defenses more. ..weaken them, even. But no, their defenses held, but with not much of an effect. The pods just covered too much of the planet's surface, even remote areas. 

And of the re-animation of the infected? This too had been researched and developed on Castagne decades ago before their unionizing with the CIS. 


Still they didn't have enough sufficient evidence to say one way or another. Besides, the galaxy had come up to par on a lot of their technologies. Even clandestine bio/chem weapons were rampart. Weapons that had at one time been developed on Castagne, when it had to stand alone, before the induction into the CIS. Deadly, weapons of mass destruction that would of pinned Castagne on the galactic map as a target, if they had not disbanded all that research and development. But that was before they had joined the CIS.


Before and since that time, all of the secret bio/chem weapon research had been flashed...burned. Burned when it were discovered that there had been a sith...a witch...a demon with the highest ranks with ulterior plans for both Castagne and anything/anyone which stood in her way of achieving immortality...even her own flesh and blood.


Sade's temple still extruded a vain to surface every time he thought of what could have been for Castagne. It certainly would have been their end...much like that system of Alderaan that had been destroyed nearly a millennia ago. 

' Colonel...transmission coming in from priority channel'....

No, it could never go that way...he'd die tenfold before he'd let Castagne suffer that fate.


'Sir....sir?....Colonel Sade, sir..' Ian was pulled from watching the pod assault from the port window, from his waking nightmare.


"What is it, Captain?" he turned to him, realizing he had been away deep in his thoughts amid the rising crisis.


"A priority one bulletin just came in, sir...The Viceroy's daughter seems to have been take prisoner."


"Prisoner?!" Sade looked out the window again just before their craft hit the atmosphere...just before the plasma gas of ionic friction went ablaze all around them upon their fast re-entry.


This changed everything. Not so much the taking of the Viceroy's daughter, but the ploy of a random assault. It now made sense the tactical genius of the randomness. it were to take the eyes off the main target...the Destat Estates. So they couldn't get Tarssin, but the next best thing, his daughter.


"Get us down there...FASTER!" he ordered.

Karlie had been assigned to him as his ward...and for a reason. He were not one to pray. Praying were for the weak and helpless. He just gritted his teeth as the plasma glowed upon their meteor-like fiery descent. 

She still had to be planet side...she HAD TO BE!











Edited by Ian Sade, 01 July 2019 - 03:22 PM.


Krystal Estain

Krystal Estain

    Smart girls don't win by being polite.

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Tags: @Kurenai Yumi @Trajan @Scherezade deWinter 

Objective: Darth Rigor 


Wearing and Wielding: Trinity armour, Sith Blade Danzatore, Verpine Shatter Rifle, DL-44 Pistol (modified, with glitter bullets), and KC-95 Ace of Spades Blaster, as well as various knives and small explosives.




Every motion Krystal made was smooth and graceful, her feet dancing to the beat of an unheard melody, her blade a conducting wand of the madness. She was efficient in her movements, blade flashing to block blaster fire seconds after it drew blood from yet another clone. As she chanelled her force into the blade, she was careful to allow it only what she would give, for the Sith blade seemed to want to corrupt her as much as it yearned for blood. It demanded more and more, but she refused to allow it reign of herself. Instead, she chanelled that anger into the energy dancing along the blade and into her bloodlust. 


Too soon she was ending the final clone in the hangar, and she fell back into position with the other two women. Another knight raised his com and bolted off, presumably to call for the evactuations Yumi had ordered, but Krystal remained by Scherezade and listened to what else the woman had to say. “Strategy they may not have, but we have to be aware of their numbers. They may overwhelm us with brute force if we are not careful about where we strike.” Yumi nodded, and Krytal believed her presented plan to be solid. “Do we have information about the inner layout of the spacecraft? If not we may find it difficult to identify which compartments are expendable.” 


Krystal was grateful to have such an experienced team of Knights with her -- they had taken on the early onslaught without severe casualties. Recalling the lost strike team, however, she quickly warned herself not to be lulled into complacency. They may have won the first battle…


But there was still the war. 






Lyra Laurs

Lyra Laurs


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Wearing: SUIT. 

Tags: Madalena Antares || Open




Lyra’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she plummeted towards the surface of Castange. She had not been with her commander or strike team as she approached the system -- indeed, the Knight had been travelling with her father when the desperate call for aid was trasmitted. She had not originally intended to answer the call, for certainly there were enough Knights currently on duty that they would not need a seventeen year old to lend aid, but as the request rang through her communicator again and again she realized that perhaps, anything she could give would be of use. So Lyra left her planet in her old VCX, and made her way to Castange as quickly as she possibly could.


She was not briefed with the team and she had no more information than was quickly transmitted through her channel, but as she prepared to land her on the surface, she suited up and prepared for battle with a Verpine Shatter Rifle and Ace of Spades Blaster, as well as her favourite array of explosives. Her most dangerous weapon, of course, was the Force -- and there was no preperation necessary for that. 


Lyra’s knees buckled as she hit the ground. Dammit. “Karen,” she called to her ship, “Please remind me to fix the landing gear on this karking hunk of space debris when we leave.” 


“Reminder to fix the landing gear on his shark trunk of late freeze, set for time of departure.” 


Good enough. 


She threw up her cloaking shield on her ship and left Karen in charge of defence -- though hopefully that would be unnecessary. One advantage to fighting zombies was that they had the collective intelligence of a tapeworm. 


Opening her comm to the Knights channel, she reported in: “Lyra Laurs, archivist, just landed on the surface. Targetting local pylons until further direction received.”


Lyra pulled up a holographic blueprint of her sector of the planet. Any pylon not listed on the official blueprint must be a replica, she reasoned, and thus can be destroyed. She pulled several charges out of the bag she carried, and took of at a sprint to the nearest of the noted ones. 


She’d do as much damage as she could until she was forced to divert her attention to the crawling undead, or she received further directions from her commander.


Ian Sade

Ian Sade


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It took a moment for them to drop below cloud cover, but once they did, Sade could see not just on the pilot's scanners, but visually what chaos it were, in the skies. 

The planetary defenses had subsided, giving way to areal fighter defenses. He had gotten reports that ground batteries were lacking with such random multi drops and with so many Castan and allied fighters, the ground batteries were cut back to reserves.

This was not to say about what was happening on the surface itself. The Castan military and local authorities and security were being overtaxed; again from the repetitive random assaults.


'T-mius 2 minutes, Colonel..' His pilot informed him of their ETA to the Destat estates. 


"Any reports come in yet on Miss Lynn's whereabouts?" He asked getting up from his seat and tapping the co-pilot on the shoulder to vacate his seat.


'Negative, the security channels on the estate are all clambering about re-establishing---' just before the pilot finished and at about the same time Sade strapped in, their craft suddenly got hammered.

Instrumentation all but blanked out along with the HUD suddenly vanishing. The rush of whirlwind stormed though the cockpit. Their hull had been breached and they were going down.


Sade grabbed the flight yoke on his side and it trembled like they had lost servo-support. Slowly one by one a few instruments came back on line with partial HUD and flight control. They were still high enough to try and re-light the drives, which of course were now all off line. But somehow or other he found the pilot next to him forgetting the one basic rule of free falling, especially since their craft were also designed for atmospheric flight...

"Lieutenant!...don't fight it! Let go of your yoke!" Sade shouted, as he were feeling the pilot fighting him through the controls which were now on manual.

"Get us a drive back on...retros if we still got them!" He had landed crafts with worse damage. But he still needed a second hand. The pilot had seemed to panic and had been trying to pull up as Sade was trying to dive the craft to gain more airspeed to glide it down. Worse case scenario; a dead stick landing.


The damaged craft did just that, regain it's lift with the maneuver Sade pulled. And for once, luck seemed to be flying over their shoulder as the pilot was able to get one of the drives to light. 

There was no use calling their crisis in, as there would be little if none at all anyone to attend to them upon crashing. This was war. You went down and fought the gods for another day to live. 


The craft was barely even stable, but it were now a flying brick as it had thrust. And by the looks of it, the retros were still available...maybe.

The smoke trails of downed pods and other what-not making for the same surface passed them, along with the forested hill they almost manicured. But apparently they barely skimmed it and were now heading over the open meadow and what looked like wild fire. But that was not currently something to worry about as the vessel plowed into the grassy part of the meadow, kicking up sod, dirt and debris as it skimmed a path until it came to a stop.

Naturally all instrumentation and interior lights were out. The only light finally filtering through was when the dust and flying debris settled. There was no smoke per say from their craft, as the fire suppressors had automatically gone off, but there was indeed the smell of smoke. Grass, it were clearly the smell of organic smoke.


It took a moment for Sade to register it as the impact had for the most part took the wind out of him. But he nevertheless looked over to the pilot. "Frak..." The pilot's head had smashed into the console. he had not securely fasted his harness.

With some effort to work his ailing muscles, Sade freed his self and went to check on the other two ensigns that had been part of the vessel's crew. It had become apparent as to their fate. The missile or what had hit them had not only breached the hull but had apparently taken out the two. There was no evidence of them, other than a gaping hull on the starboard side as to where one of the engines had ripped itself off taking part of the hull. And of course the smoke coming in from the field on fire.


Sade jumped out of the said breach and could feel the heat from the fire that was rapidly approaching. It were difficult to say which way was clear as the fire was in all sense of the word; wild.

Nevertheless he went in the direction the wind was going, figuring on why the fire was spreading so fast. And he was right, going with the direction of the smoke was in a way staying ahead of the fire...only that it was difficult to breathe. Still, he knew his training and followed his instincts which in a few minutes got him to a clearing. One which he could see was a waterway ahead.

Not knowing exactly where he was, he had no choice but to swim across otherwise stay and get cooked by the approaching wildfire.



Many arduous minutes later...


Sade, like a wet cat, finally reached the bank of the river. it had been quite difficult to swim directly across as the water was moving at quite a pace, but he finally reached the muddy bank on the opposite side. Rolling on his back a minute to catch his breath he could see one..three..several fighters crisis crossing overhead opening up at the falling pods they ranged.

He pulled out his comm and checked his position. He were 397 kilometers from the city center and just to his relief, just 6 kilometers from the Destat estates. Well, to the border of the sprawling estates which in itself covered thousands of acres. Still, he would be within close comm to personnel close enough to pick him up.


"Castan security 306 priority...come in..." Yes, he went and tried the channel and a few others, but to no avail. The chatter of other priority calls littered the bands associated with the estates.

He then broadened his search and came upon a CIS channel. It had not been his intention to hail one of the ally teams that had been called for assistance to Castagne. He for the most part had little faith in the CIS himself. Sade were more a nationalist. Castagne was his priority and although his system had been indoctrinated by invite to the CIS, he could do little but swallow it. 


Sade had come upon the landing transmission of Lyra Laurs 

"Sigh..." Yes, it were CIS. But apparently she were one of the closest and given that she (by the sound of a female voice) had most likely landed with weaponry and maybe personnel, he certainly could use some firepower.


"Colonel Sade from Castan security..." Well, what good would an intelligence officer be giving out his craft? Sade was ICI, a branch of Castan military. One which only served Castagne. Still, he had rank and in most scenarios such as this crisis, he could even commandeer a Castan SD, which of course was where he had dropped down from to try and reach the Destat Estates.

Hey shiet happens...even the best aces get shot down. More so when they are not piloting the craft.


"..repeat, this is Colonel Sade from Castan security...are we reaching, Lyra Laurs?

I'm in need of priority one mission objective assistance. Need some combat personnel over to the Viceroy's estates...over." He had little choice but to seek assistance from an ally.


"...my coordinates are as follows.." He sent out the beacon signal.


"Repeat.. this Colonel Sade from......" and so he sent it all out again, waiting to see if at all he'd even get a reply. 

Edited by Ian Sade, 05 July 2019 - 11:00 AM.


Scherezade deWinter

Scherezade deWinter

    The Blood Hound

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Location: Safe LZ

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor

Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives| Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets

Tags: Kurenai Yumi Trajan Krystal Estain Vera Mina



They'd fought through the lines, taking down enemies and clones of the blonde woman Scherezade had met just a little before the entire chain of events that led her to attempting to remove herself from existence had come to an end. Her blood sang in her veins as she fought, a sound sweeter than any music that had ever been composed.


And then came the lull in the fighting, and Scherezade paused, standing there for a moment to catch her breath. It was in those precious moments that the public announcement systems flared to life. All hands, reinforce pylon bombardment of Castagne. Dispatch fighters to heavy command cruiser in pylon distribution path.


Chit. CHIT! Scherezade grabbed her comm, knowing very well who was down on the planet right now. The message was sent directly to Madalena Antares, the blare of the speakers sounding through. Her sister probably already knew though; the Knights Obsidian tended to be very well connected to each other, through the Force and through technology. You either had to catch all of them together, or you weren't going to catch beyond the first among them, and even that would be temporary.


Only then did she look up, seeing the woman she did not know [Vera Mina] go through the system computers. "If they don't care what happens to this place, why are we here? Why are they all here?" Scherezade asked, the confusion all too easy to note on her. Standing behind the woman though, she saw the very same thing on the monitor. More clones. Many more clones.


Following her back outside, Scherezade said nothing as the woman spoke, asking for ideas on how to handle it.


She smiled mischievously.


Kurenai Yumi spoke first. Scherezade looked at the Pathfinder, finding herself nodding. It was a good starting point, but… Maybe it would work better as an ending point. Krystal Estain spoke next, offering questions that they really wanted to have the answers to.


"Can we get them all into the same area?" Scherezade at last asked, "I have an idea. If we can get them to release all the clones at once and we can lead them to a specific choke point…" How many of them would there be? Dozens? Hundreds? And could she play with it, gently enough so that they would not be completely dead but instead, very much dying and useless? "If they don't number in the hundreds, I can empty them all together," the Blood Hound explained her idea, "But this will leave me weak and vulnerable for a window of time after that. It means that the execution has to be flawless. Get them all into a choke point, drain them, and then you three take over again all the way to Darth Rigor, or to the control room of this station so that we can sink it."


It sounded like a solid plan, to her. But then again, a lot of plans sounded solid to Scherezade. They even succeeded a lot of times. But it was others that tended to have issues with their level of chaoticism.




Madalena Antares

Madalena Antares

    The Dark Paladin of Chaos

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Location: Capital Outskirts

Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor

Wielding: Dyntech Power Staff | Yrkaa Sidearm

Tags: Ian Sade Lyra Laurs





Sweat was pouring down Madalena's face and back. The fight was one of the heaviest she'd recalled ever facing, comparable much to what she had experienced on Triffis when all the droids around them had gone rabid. But these were not droids that were going mad now – it were the dead. And not just dead bodies, but dead body parts as well, anything dead, dead tissue, dead this, dead that. She'd had one of her men bring a flamethrower with them, turning a lot of bits and pieces into char. There was little other choice, when their part of the group was too far from the pylons to take them out.


The battle was harder than she wanted to admit. Even on Eshan, with ships causing tsunamis and voracious worms trying to break everything in sight, had she not worked this hard. And then the message from her sister came. All hands, reinforce pylon bombardment of Castagne. Dispatch fighters to heavy command cruiser in pylon distribution path.


Madalena cursed out loud. The rest of her team had heard it as well. Morale, while currently still surviving, would shortly begin to decline if they didn't gain any ground. She was still cursing when the second comm came through; Archivist Laurs.


"We're-" Madalena began, only to be stopped by a third comm. Colonel Sade from Castan security. What was he even doing over there?! Bringing her holomap up, the Knight Commander could easily see the two of them were close to each other – and near the Viceroy's estates.


"Archivist Laurs, Colonel Sade," she half yelled into the comm as her team began to work through the next group of undead, "this is Knight Commander Antares. My team and I are making our way to you. Over."

Edited by Madalena Antares, 08 July 2019 - 09:36 AM.