A Return Home[TRE Dominion of Korriban Hex]

[Vrak Nashar]

OOC:
This dominion is meant to be fairly open. If you have ongoing stories on any worlds within this hex please feel free to join and interact with TRE members. If you are a Jedi and want to help evacuate civilians, do so, if you want to craft another story please ask in the OOC. The Chief objective here is just to have fun.

There are no set objectives, and I encourage everyone to do what they think will be most fun(That makes sense) on any planet within the hex

Korriban

Home.

Most Purebloods that were now alive, at least the ones Vrak knew of, called Athiss home. The planet had been their point of origin for as long as anyone could remember. For thousands of years they had hidden themselves away upon that world, staying in isolation and only venturing forth when absolutely needed. It had been home for so long that most had forgotten they came from elsewhere.

Korriban, the birth of their species had come from this world, and as the Purebloods of Athiss approached the planet seemed to call to them. The darkside bubbled and pulled towards them, as if calling them to their true home. There was a calm above the world, the stillness that could only be heard from a planet that had lain dormant.

Then, a pulse.

Dozens of Star Destroyers suddenly began to drop from hyperspace. Ancient Harrower Dreadnoughts that bore the mark of recent refit fell fell into real-space, lurching back into the abyss and appearing over Korriban one by one. Aboard one of many of these ships stood Vrak Nashar. His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyes set upon the red world in front of him. A small smile was hidden behind his mask, another Pureblood stood behind him. "Begin."

That was all the word that was needed.

The Council of war would handle the 'invasion', though the seizure of their homeworld would not be a true battle.

"Have our guests brought here." His second command came with a nod of the Servant. Several days ago Vrak had sent a missive to a group of Mandalorians, not a clan as they once were, but instead an organization that he sought to host. [member="Vilaz Munin"] had been called aboard The Tyrant, a simple request for an audience. "I wish to speak with them."

Now was not just the time for conquest, but alliances.

As he pulled the Mandalorians to him others around the system would quickly begin their conquest of Korriban. Some would head towards the Academy, others would secure the tombs of old, Korriban would be theirs before the day was out, and in the distant systems surrounding the rest of the Empire began to seize the worlds of the Caldera one by one.

Thule, Malachor, every world that had once been a part of the Ancient Sith Empire would once again be theirs.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

Dantooine, Outside the ruined Jedi Enclave

Darkness was falling once more...

From her meditation in the small grove she felt the tides begin to sweep across her. The force was serene most days. She still felt some of the echoes of Darkness from the Primevils reign over this place, as well as the poltergeists of the fallen Sith during the collapse of the One Sith. But this was bigger than that. Instead of dull thrums it was more like a steady roar, a wave crashing on an sandy beach, eroding it.

From her position she shifted slightly as the currents continued to pour through her body. There was smears of red an orange tinging the natural blue aura she perceived. There was terror, and abject revulsion. For a moment she slipped, thinking it was her feeling these things.

Emotion is forbidden for a Jedi, centre yourself.

No this was more, this was something that was flowing in from the outside.

The young redhead opened her eyes and cast her glance up into the trees, taking in the sweet smell of the forest. The meditation broke and she felt the force begin to leave her, subsiding back to its natural form, rather than concentrated. There was a glimpse of world she'd caught at the end. The world every Jedi historian knew.

Korriban.

She rose and collected her lightsaber from the ground, snapping the smooth silver hilt to her utility belt. It was time to leave again, time to heed the call of the force. She made off into the woods, back towards the settlement. With no ship of her own she'd have to charter one, and that was difficult if you were low on creds.

​

The Force is your ally, her now dead Master had said.​

​

With it you need no wealth, no armies, no armor, nor anyhting else. You simply need heed its call. Serve it unconditionally and it will deliver what you need.​

 

[Bethany Kismet]

"Look, you didn't have to come, so I'm not interested in hearing complaining," she said with a laugh.

Bethany Kismet and several members of the Order of the Sacred Lotus were coming down the ramp into the cold, dry air that blew down from the A'driannamieq Mountains. It cut through the outskirts of Elos, the planet's capital and largest city. They were here to pick up a donation to the order- normally, companies brought them to Monastery, but something had the CEO nervous about sending his shipments out of the system for some reason. He'd been unwilling to go into detail, but Bethany had agreed to come and get them.

The landing pad they had been directed to was on the eastern edge of the city. The sandstone and durasteel buildings rose up out of the frozen desert. She knew, cerebrally, that the rich lommite deposits in the near by mountains made the city a desirable location. But she didn't understand the appeal.

Stepping onto the surface, she bent down, plucking a small handful of frozen sand. She let it move gently between her palms as she reached out around her with the Force.

Though she was dressed simply, in nothing resembling a Jedi's robes, through the Force there was no mistaking the diminutive woman for anything but what she was. Long black hair hung down her back in a single, thick braid. Emerald eyes flickered up to the city, a small frown tugging down the corners of her mouth for a moment as something shivered in the distance.

"I think we should hurry," she said slowly, glancing back at the small group with her. "There's something on the wind."

Spoiler

[member="Michael Sardun"] [member="Elijah Henson"]

 

[grammaticus]

War. The true calling of the Sith. Not the political bickering that many thought. Not the endless struggle to see themselves set against those who should be their allies. Not petty back stabs to answer decades old grudges. War was the true force that united the Sith, and finally, after many years, the Sith were gathered for war once more.

Corin stood aboard the flagship of his fleet, made up mostly of bulk freighters and carriers, filled to the brim with thousands of Kaleesh warriors ready to kill anything in their path. Their dedication to war was admirable, and from the years he had spent among their people on Kalee, he had grown to truly respect their might. He knew they would play their part in the coming battles.

"My lord, we are dropping out of hyperspace." The words of the Kaleesh warrior, hissed out in a brutalized version of galactic standard drew his attention away from his thoughts. Nodding his head, he turned to look out the viewport, as the star trails shrunk down, and the darkness of space appeared before him once more. Looking to either side, Corin watched as the rest of the fleet exited hyperspace as well, quickly followed by wings of fighters being deployed to screen the larger transports. The two frigates he had been able to get from the mustering above Ziost were also deployed, moving forward to take up points at the head of the fleet.

In the distance, Corin could just begin to make out their target. A single world, upon which he would test the strength of his warband against the enemy. "Command channel to all ships. Begin preparations for full deployment, we shall take this world in the name of the Resurgent Empire, and burn out those who stand in our way." The hissing cheers of the Kaleesh on the bridge brought a brief smile to Corin's face, not that any of them could see. His mask, crafted in a mimickery of the Kaleesh masks, kept that hidden.

Turning, he made his way off the bridge, and made his way towards the cargo bay. There, dozens of assault ships and troop transports were being readied for rapid deployment. Corin walked towards his own, his personal bodyguard already there and waiting his arrival. He walked up the ramp, just as the sirens began to sound throughout the hangar. All the warriors made their way aboard their ships, and as the last of the ramps closed, the heavy doors keeping the hangar sealed from the vacuum of space were opened. Moments later, the first of the transports flew from it, and began to make their way to the world below.

(Updated Location) [member="Bethany Kismet"]
-Anyone else on Elom

 

[Garza]

Korriban was a planet that had brought many empires to fruition. Some grew to cover large portions of the galaxy. Others, were flashes that were gone as soon as they arrived. My brother had once lived here years ago when the Sith Empire under Darth Mordin, and Ashin Varanin. It was here that he trained as well as created his first Sith Sword.

I remember coming here myself. Looking for the Empire that once stood, I ran into people who I had once called friends. Only for them to turn on me. It was overrun by Silver Jedi. However, recently, they were backing off. Why? They were losing power. They were losing the strength they once had. Now, it seemed that it was left dormant.

I could feel the wind blowing and particles of sand smack my face and arms as I stood there.

It was with a sudden change, the winds shifted. Not of my power. As a Shaper of Kro Var I could influence many elements of the natural galaxy. However, this was not natural. I could feel a pulse within the force. One that grew stronger every time it reached out. Dark, and encompassing. I could feel the desire to return. I smiled lightly.

"I have a feeling, that somebody want's back what's theirs."

Looking down at my left hand as it grasped the saya. Holding the katana within. Like a caged beast. Waiting to be wielded once more. Wanting me to draw blood with it. I shook my head. The sword seemed to have a mind of its own. Almost as though it lusted for the blood of foes. Almost as though the sword wanted me to deepen my connection to the darkness.

Pressing gently on the tsuba, The blade unlocked itself from the housing. Instantly, I could feel the creeping lust for bloodshed.

"It's time my old friend."

 

[Ras'kala'han]

~
Posts: 1
Objective: Malachor V - Seizing Control
OOC: Malachor represents a unique situation due to the systems set up by its previous Lord. These objectives represent a broad plan I worked out with [member="Vrak Nashar"] and [member="Darth Abyss"] to best represent that, I welcome anyone and everyone to join in on the fun!

Spoiler: OOC Objective Guide

I would like to introduce to you all...

Malachor Objectives
Sith and Allies:
- Cut off the agricultural, rural frontier of 'The Blessing' from the cities, starving them and driving up food prices.
- Incite unrest between the aristocratic Upper Sphere and the worker-oriented Lower Sphere.
- Seize control of the Data Network to gather information on the populace.
- Paralyze the Floating Market commerce center to create chaos by breaking the flow of credits.
- Keep Sith activity a secret from the general populace.

The Sith are trying to create a situation where class warfare is inevitable. By inciting paranoia in the Upper Sphere and unrest in the Lower, they will attempt to get the high-class society to crack down - hard - on all kinds of dissent. The lack of official government control will ensure that such means will be brutal, violent, and ineffective. This, and worsening conditions in Malachor for the common folk while pinning blame on the elite will create a situation ripe for government takeover.

Jedi and Allies:
- Negotiate between the Upper and Lower Sphere.
- Convince Malachor of your good intent.
- Attempt to expose the Sith to the public.
- Provide relief to the scum of Malachor, break the webs of addiction.

Malachor was given an unusual level of independence, and a sort of pseud-nationalistic pride was fostered. Their firm belief in their own unbreakability means that the Jedi will be suspect as representatives of an expansionist Alliance and the Sith as that of an Empire. Any sort of attempts to 'claim' the world will be met with total hostility. As such, the Jedi and their friends are best suited making life better for the ordinary folk, and attempting to foil the plots of the Sith to worsen conditions and create chaos.

I will be in the Upper Sphere, but I would love to see more people join in. If anyone wants to have me as a dueling partner, make mention!

~

Antherion's Sith Interceptor hovered, inert, its nosecone pointed downwards as it floated in perfect orbit of the once-broken world of Malachor V. His eyes were closed, and the only stimulation was the smell of his plants, the hum of the ultra-violet lamps that nourished them, or a faint trickling sound of their irrigants. A perfect elixir for serene meditation. Peace was a lie, of course. But he had discovered what Sozus Syn never knew: Just because something is a lie didn't mean it couldn't also be the truth.

Never once did he consider that he might simply be mad.

He had walked the streets of the clamoring masses for their 'Festival of the Free', hearing the cheers of the self-styled Unchained as the danced and rioted against the night. He had seen the astonishing luxury the upper crust wallowed in as people starved at their feet when he saw its then-reigning Lord strike out in defiant independence to face down his expansive and uncompromising Master. Darth Abyss had imparted his character to the world to be certain.

"The only way to rule Malachor is to not rule Malachor." A strange paradox and a difficult situation. Like a K'lor Slug larva, the wretched refuse of that world would only struggle, and squirm, and bite the more tightly they were gripped. They must dance to the tune of the Sith willingly. He opened his eyes and an encrypted comm channel on the frequencies that he had been provided with on Ziost.

"All Sith forces on Malachor - remain covert. Let no one know who you are, where you are, what you are doing. We must strike to disrupt the flow of credits between Upper and Lower districts, from city to city, the flow of food and information. This situation is unique, and must be handled delicately.

"Report actions on this channel for coordination. I am en route to the Upper Sphere now... when the corpse world is at a standstill, we will make our next move. The Force serves us."

His ship hummed to life and motion, its cloaking device rippling into effect - light bending around it until it was a mere ripple in the air as Antherion descended. He smiled gently as he passed into the wavering darkness of the atmosphere, reflecting on how enjoyable life was. He never had broken a world before - it would be a lovely first try.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

~
Post: 1
Objective: Korriban - Reconquista of the Old Artifacts
~

The Slave sat still outside the ancient Tomb of Ajunta Pall, the first Dark Lord of the Sith in history. The dark energy radiated from the burial site in waves that washed over him, his very essence consumed by the latent energy that lay still in the Valley of the Dark Lords. He was here for his holocron, an item of legend that few considered to be real, but one he thought he could perhaps attain with his iron will. He wasn't the first however to search the tomb, and it was stripped bare long ago; though there was talk in the nearby community of a secret passage within the tomb itself.

Of course, they didn't say this so easily. After a series of intimidations, murders, interogations, and torutures; The Slave got the information he sought whether it was true or not. The edges of his smile turned upwards as he finally stood up, his black robes fluttering in the hot breeze as he watched the cave opening still. Sheathed on his back was a thin, cortosis enhanced Vibrosword with a black wrapped handle and gold cap that seemed to shine in the desert; black boots sunk slightly into the still sand that lay where he knelt.

Although The Slave's skills with the Force were meager with refinement, a blade yet unsharpened, and he had yet to build himself a lightsaber, he made up for his lack of experience with an unending ambition to succeed with his freedom, and prove to his master his worth despite his recent failure. He'd collect one of the greatest artifacts known to Sith History, and it'd be the foundation for his future in the galaxy. His breath slowed as he let loose a slight sigh, and exhale of pleasure and excitement as he began to move inside the tomb itself.

What darkness it held would soon be discovered, and blood was bound to be shed in its ancient depths...

[member="Seraya Whisperwind"]

 

[Eugen Aker]

Location: Ession, Corporate Sector

Arisa was frustrated. Since the Sith Order's haphazard attack on Midvinter, the Watchman had been on the beat, hitting spots all over the northern expanse of the Outer Rim following possible leads on the Sith. However, she found it to be an exercise in futility, because she knew exactly where almost all leads would take her. The Esstran Sector. The Stygian Caldera. When that moment happened, she knew she would again be stymied by the doves within the Silver Order when she made the call for action. She wasn't sure how much more her heart could take continuing on this track with the Silver Jedi, sitting idle while allowing their enemies to mobilize for the next onslaught with impunity.

However, there finally seemed to be a light at the end of the tunnel. She wasn't sure what to make of this Dominion she had stumbled upon while answering a distress call during her investigations, but in them seemed to be a potential new ally in her fight against the Sith Order. She was still trying to wrap her head around working with some parties within the Dominion she had previously scrapped with as a Republic Jedi, but desperation in the face of current threats was a mighty fine motivator in letting old grudges die.

After a short evening of pondering these issues like she normally did at the end of busy day, she was just about to call it a night when her mind was flooded with alerts through her neural implant. Monitoring stations based along the Daragon trail had just detected a flurry of activity in the Horuset system. Thoughts of sleep dissipated as she rushed out of her room toward the CIC at a breakneck Forced-enhanced pace.

Her worst fears seemed to be finally realized. The Sith looked to be returning in full force. For over a year, she had been pushing to secure the Caldera to prevent such an event, but to no avail. If there was a silver lining to this, then perhaps her peers would finally be spurned to action. Maybe.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Leos Palle]

With all the work he was being drawn into with the Order, something he'd never intended to happen, he'd had no choice but to step down from his work at the prison. That wasn't to say that he didn't return there from time to time, aiming to work with them when they needed it. Also his teacher was there and he still had things to learn from him and the others. He wasn't capable of just leaving and never going back, regardless. He owed them too much. But the OSL needed his help as well, and he felt a personal obligation to help such a peaceful Order. They were a rarity and he wanted to ensure they didn't disappear.

When [member="Bethany Kismet"] said that she needed a few people to go with her to Elom to pick up some things he'd volunteered to go. Rumors out of that area were a bit murky, but rumors couldn't always be discounted. He wasn't as passive as his fellow Sacred Lotus members. Truthfully he felt himself to be meant to be some sort of protector of them more than anything. Not that they couldn't defend themselves, but if they didn't have to sully their hands with violence it would be better. He wanted them to remain as peaceful as they could.

"There's hardly any reason to complain," he said as he walked off the ship with the others.

Sure it was a bit on the cold side, but he actually felt relatively comfortable in the colder weather. More than he did in warm places, for sure. He shrugged his jacket around to get it to sit properly again, his metal arms fully covered within. They wouldn't be nice to have touching his skin in the cold regardless of what he thought of the cold. When Bethany said they should hurry, his eyes scanned the horizon, but he saw nothing. He did feel an ominous feeling, however, tickling the back of his mind. He shouldered it and moved along with the others.

| [member="Corin Zanith"] |​

 

[Elijah Beckett]

"If I had known how karking cold it would be, I'd probably have reconsidered."

Elijah's words came out in a more half-hearted grumble than of any real complaint. If he had truly been against leaving Monastery then even [member="Bethany Kismet"] wouldn't have been able to move him. He was very much the stubborn type - vocally speaking against things asked of him; what he didn't want to do. While in truth, deep down he knew it would probably do him good to actually do what was asked of him. And his stubbornness had certainly reared its head a lot more since returning from Mandalore. The festival had been an excuse to distract him, but after that was done it was blatantly clear the ex-soldier was avoiding the larger crowds on Monastery; opting to keep himself isolated in silence, and drink.

But he was still there though, he hadn't completely wallowed. He still showed when he was required to teach those that needed his knowledge of the battlefield, and still present whenever the Padawans were called for another day of training. It was just so clear, to probably even a blind man, how stilted Elijah had become all of a sudden. Especially to Bethany, who after a while like this had confronted him on it.

He had heard the rumours going on amongst the Santuary staff, of how a company was strangely reluctant about sending their donation to the Order. If Elijah had been in the right state of mind during that time, it would've probably set off some type of alarm in his head. But instead, it wasn't until Bethany had approached him; both about his recent attitude and her request for him to join her and the others to Elom. The conversation had inevitably ended in frustration, with Elijah gradually just shutting up entirely when he realised he couldn't just talk his way out of it. And Bethany did eventually leave, but Elijah could've sworn she only did because she had known she gotten to him at some point.

Which she had, given the fact when the time came for everyone to disembark from Monastery; Elijah was there. The two didn't share any words, Bethany just smiled at him and Elijah rolled his eyes in response and walked onto the ship. Though if one had looked, they would've noticed a surprising lack of a flask on his belt.

Elijah pulled on his coat, tugging it closer to his body as if it would help keep him a bit more warmer. As he did, he followed Bethany's eyes as they lingered towards the city. He felt it too, both in the Force momentarily and that just sinking feeling in his stomach. Though the latter was familiar to him, as a soldier who had been on many battlefields just waiting; in fear and anticipation for the enemy to arrive.

"I agree, we shouldn't stay here for any longer than needed."

[member="Corin Zanith"] [member="Electroheart"] [member="Michael Sardun"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

ELOS
Elom, Korriban Hex

First, the Hex. Then, the system. Next, a cluster of systems. Finally, the galaxy.

The Empire would rise.

Joon stood looking at the frozen mountains before the great city of Elos as a cold wind blew in from the North across the great capital itself. Colder than expected, but protected by her fur-lined robes with her otherwise scantily-clad attire – she really needed something more practical for cold expeditions – the Knight waited for her allies to arrive.

The conquest of the Korriban Hex had begun, with forces spread across each planet to bring under control.

She had activated the beacon for the Empire for allies to follow, and starting from the capital city seemed the perfect spot. They would spread, like a cleansing tonic, eradicating the rot that got in their way or tried to resist.

Joon’s amber eyes noted a scattering of ships in high orbit which meant the dominion had begun, and now just had to wait.

She stood atop a large staircase that led down from one side of the city to the ground below, protected by a large stone arch that was frosted over. Looking down from the ships, her gaze fell back to the mountains in the distance.

There was a stench coming from the cold breeze – it carried hope and virtue.

Swallowing hard to keep the bile from rising, Joon breathed hard to keep her unstable genetics at bay. Her body shivered with the Dark Side rising in her and the lust for violence and blood-shed in the name of the Empire.

Blowing out a breath, it was hard now to ignore what the Force told her was out there.

[member="Corin Zanith"] | [member="Bethany Kismet"] | [member="Electroheart"] | [member="Elijah Henson"]

 

[Darth Abyss]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20XREf55X9E

Katarr, Defiance - Secret Safe House - 3 days Earlier

Tick Tick Tick

The visions began the day Abyss left the world he had build out of nothing but blood, scrap and darkness, the day he looked down from his tower and watched as the Malachor he created died in his hands. A sith could fight monsters and men alike, but time was always the enemy that broken them. He had meant to not repeat the mistakes of those that came before him, he had meant to build something stronger than time, a world tied so close to an idea that neither the passing hours, days, weeks and years, nor the light could tear it down. Now a new faction of the sith had risen, and their hand was about to reach into the Caldera to take it from him, until it would devoured by their greed.

He had tried to leave it behind, focus his energy on a new frontier, Katarr, but every day and every night he watched as his world was burned to the ground, as years of work were shattered over only a few days by the incompetence of his enemies. Fire, blood, dirt and then only emptiness. Malachors rise would've been bright, but short, burned out the second that the crimson sun of the sith rose above the dead world once more. But tonight there had been something else, a light that broke through the darkness, a glimpse of hope hidden behind the mask of their greatest enemies.

Tick Tick Tick

The clock on the wall broke apart as Malachors Prophet rose to his feet, the fire in his eyes brighter than two dying twin suns, brighter than his spires shined over the tainted city. The end would come one day or another, but as long as there was a single spark of passion in him that day would always be one day away.


Malachor V, The Tainted City - Current Day

Darth Abyss stood in front of the locked door of his Citadel, the whole structure powered down and abandoned since the day he had left, nothing more than a shadow that walked the streets beyond the eyes of his people. The light had risen around the ancient sith worlds, the power of the jedi echoed through the old stones of Malachor. Yesterday they were his enemies, and tomorrow they might would be again, but today they both stood against this new Empire of the Sith.

The door opened, after the system recognized the secret codes only know to the Sith lord himself. As he entered the dark tower jumped to live, from one second to another his center of command had returned to full function. Before he left he had erased any Intel he had gathered to keep it from falling into enemy hands, but he still had a copy stored on his main server on Nar Shaddaa. Now he would use it to keep the cities in his grip, no matter who would stand against it.

"Glory, record a message. Send it on all known Jedi frequencies."

Shrouded in his old, ragged robe and his face obscured by the strange wooden mask placed on it, the mindeater stepped onto the communicator, a ghost like, inhuman figure.

"Jedi. I am Darth Abyss, the Prophet of the independend, sovereign Free Cities of Malachor. Yesterday we have been enemies, and tomorrow we might be again. But today we are united, we both stand against the same enemy. My world might not reach the high standards of your order, but we are a world of the free. Slaves free from chains, droids unbound from being nothing more but property. Soon that will change, once the sith come to starve and slaughter my people. Jedi of the galaxy, I do understand that trust is something not shared between us, so I do not ask you to help us, I humbly beg you to."


Malachor V

The jedi were his trump card, the last ace he had up his sleeve. But they weren't the only line of defense that rose in the free cities. While he had been gone, his eyes and ears still were everywhere, those that carried the mark and the blessing of the Prophet. All throughout the cities, be it Firewall, The Spheres, The Blessing or the Tainted City itself his messages passed throughout the shadows. The prophet had returned, and Malachor was ready for the war to come, be it on the field or in the shadows.

[member="Antherion"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

The pride of all Sith since the days of the ancient empires.

Korriban.

The orbiting rock held no sway for her. To Seraphina, it was simply another drifting planet filled with the dead and forgotten of generations past. A place of worship for cultists, and a meaningless conquest for the many sects of Sith that followed long after. However this was what Vrak wanted. This was what Athiss, the council, and the Sith wanted.

Would there be resistance? Unlikely. None that would disturb the reclaiming of the world anyway.

As the ship descended upon the world, Sera stood off towards the edge of the transparisteel viewport, dark green eyes leering out behind veiled armor to the planet before them. Her modest stature, though unimposing of its' own, kept those nearby at bay, dissuading conversation from officers and operators alike. Even those that felt occasionally bold were most often times ignored by the pink skinned woman who chose to speak infrequently to anyone other than Vrak.

She knew he planned to speak with the Mandalorians, a group with customs she found to be primitive and barbaric, but that was not her show. Her presence was merely formality. The woman held no place of authority in the Sith society, nor did she desire for one. She was no councilor, war advisor, or even by extension, a Sith Lord. What was known of her was merely that she was some type of confidant or tool employed when needed by Vrak, and that was all.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Vrak Nashar]

Korriban
The Tyrant [2/20]
[member="Seraphina Shel'tah"] | [member="Vilaz Munin"]

The Mandalorians were taking a bit to get up to the Bridge of the ship, but that was to be expected. The dreadnought was after all a rather large ship and they had only just received word. The SIth Lord watched the planet below in silence, dozens of transport ships and landing shuttles descending from the Harrowers.

The Resurgent Empire's fleet was not the most sparkling or new, in fact most of the vessels that were no spotted all around the Caldera were hulking behemoths that had been constructed hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. They had all been retrofit of course, courtesy of Vrak's contacts throughout the galaxy. In sheer firepower they were a match for most things, though he suspected that were they to meet the Alliance or First Order in battle they would be lacking.

Not that such a thing would be an issue for a while.

He glanced behind him for a moment, watching as Seraphina peered through the viewport. "Tell me."

Vrak began quietly.

"What if it were Ryloth?" Some Twi'leks had a powerful connection with their homeworld, much like Purebloods held a connection with Korriban. It wasn't linked in the force, but rather a powerful cultural link. "If my fleet descended upon Ryloth would you strike me down?"

The thought amused him.

 

[Natalie LaForte]

Location; Malachor V
Objective; Intrigue
Post; 1

Having been informed of what was about to happen by her Lord, and the fact her own Master, a Sith, was requesting help from The Jedi; the situation must obviously be dire. Something needed to happen, and fast.

She bore nothing but her Assault Rifle and saber as she shuffled in and out of stalls in the Junk Market. Her true intention? To be revealed. Already arranging a meet-up point with her sister, she made her way through the busy but secure streets. The place smelled of corruption, if you can imagine that. Just filth. But she had gotten used to it, training with her master here for at least a few months at this point. Her communicator made a beep and a screechy, distorted voice spoke out of it.

"Nat, there's guards everywhere, it's begun."

"I expected as much. Delete my name from every holo-computer on the network."

"What? why?"

"I'm about to do something unexpectedly stupid."

"Serenity, wha-.."

It cut off. For dramatic impact and to leave her sister in suspense partially, but also because it was the only way to make her do it. Not answering her just showed the urgency. She already knew the way to win a war on this planet. There was no government, the only force, the people. And if she made the people believe what she wanted then things would go in her favour, and as such, she needed the employment of some forces to assist her, or at least the illusion of them being there.

She opened the communicator once more, this time, hurriedly making her way to the exit of the market in an almost panic like state. It beeped, waiting for a signal, but this was on an encrypted channel. The place wasn't renowned for its exceptional strength, but her plan was the only chance she was going to have at saving the possessions of her master.

"My Lord, I have devised a plan in order to save your sovereign states. I just need the assurance that you will approve of which before I go ahead."

She paused, awaiting a response before continuing.

"I will be attempting to plant explosives on both civilian and military ships, hopefully setting off a chain reaction and putting the port into chaos. I would need you to create an illusion to be transmitted across the city, telling the people of their new rulers. The people of course would never give up their freedom, and thus, spark some form of confrontation with those who threaten yourself."

"I know it sounds crazy, but this is the only way I see you retaining your power."

Regardless of his response, she continued walking to the arranged meet-up point with her sister, The Spires. Luminescent towering buildings overlooking the entire city, giving off sparkling glows to those below. She was easy to spot, in a purple skin tight outfit; though they didn't speak, Serenity took the lead and began walking to the Port, her sister in close tailing of her.

[member="Darth Abyss"]

 

[grammaticus]

The first wave of the Empire's invasion came in the shape of several wings of fighters and bombers. Flying in loose formation, the attack craft, piloted by Kaleesh warriors began making attack runs at the outskirts of the capital city. The scattering of houses and markets quickly fell to fire, with the people in them fleeing, if they were lucky.

After the initial assault, the combined firepower of several bombers were concentrated on one section of the eastern city, heavy fire leading to the destruction of a large clearing within the city itself. With a landing point made, and fires spreading, the second wave of the invasion began its descent. Hundreds of troop transports, loaded with Kaleesh warriors armed with Lig Swords and blaster rifles were disgorged against the civilians of the city. Any resistance they met was brutally eradicated, as the conquest began in earnest.

A single transport separated itself from the main force, banking around, and heading towards the mountains. It came to a halt in the air, opening its main ramp in the air, allowing Corin to lean out. "When you sent word that you would be needing some support, I expected to find some resistance, [member="Joon"]. So far, this is proving to be nothing but a massacre." Reaching down, he extended his hand to help [member="Joon"] into the transport, before it banked again, and descended to the city below, with the most eastern sections just now beginning to burn.

[member="Elijah Henson"] [member="Electroheart"] [member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Seraphina Shel'tah]

There was a slight shift, head lowering and turning off to the side, an eye peering back towards Vrak, though she remained in place behind the viewport.

"If you brought with you slavery and oppression." She turned then, to face him across the way, looking up behind the veil of her masked face. "I would kill you."

Ryloth was not in fact her birthplace. Her older brother had been born there, as well as her parents. She was born on Cambria, after her parents relocated in search of a better, more fortuitous life closer to the core. For a time they had achieved that, until the Sith invaded Coruscant, bringing with them an age of oppression themselves. She would not see that same fate return to Ryloth, least of all by Vrak and this new era of Sith.

"Despite how my people are viewed in this galaxy, we are not objects of commerce to be bartered and sold."

The fact that there were some on Athiss irked her enough as it was, but she was also not some slave abolishing crusader. She hadn't the means or the will to free every Twi'lek. But the world belonging to her people? She would not see that fall again into becoming the hub of slavery, even if some of her own people were responsible for that way of life.

"Your fleet would burn."

That was an obvious exaggeration. She had no army, no fleet, no amassed resources to deal with any kind of incursion. But she would sacrifice herself if it meant saving her people from a crueler fate.

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

A transport came in, kicking up more sparkling frost from the ground as fighters screamed overhead. However, Joon’s attention was on the mountain range and the calling from it. She met the robed Sith’s gaze with her own and clamped onto his wrist as she pulled herself up.

”Take me towards the ridge at once,” she shouted over the engine.

Like a woman possessed, she turned her head to the mountains that surrounded half the city and pointed, ignoring his comment.

”Open up your senses. You can smell them from here. They’re coming to the city. We must cull each of them like the animals they are!”

Each day her Force perception grew a little, and her understanding of the Dark Side with it. Right now, surrounded by allies she once never thought she had and with a Knight title bestowed on her, she was in a position she could only have dreamed about in his years as a pathetic Imperial clone.

The power was in her hands, serving the might of [member="Vrak Nashar"] and the Empire.

”Move it!”

Joon shouted to the pilots again, her frustration building like a ticking time-bomb ready to explode at the first sight of the Light.

[member="Corin Zanith"] | [member="Elijah Henson"] | [member="Electroheart"] |[member="Bethany Kismet"]

 

[Klesta]

Location: Elom
Objective: Repel the Resurgent Empire's forces
Allies: Local resistance [member="Electroheart"]
People of interest: [member="Bethany Kismet"] [member="Elijah Henson"]
Enemies: Resurgent Empire [member="Corin Zanith"] [member="Joon"]
Post: 1/38

"After all these aborted sorties, we'd better not feth this one out. Hopefully we will actually get to fight the enemy Sith" Yula sighed.

"You always say that when an opportunity for combat sorties seem to be on our radar and we end up not fighting at all: I'm not sure why this one should be different" Daisy complained.

"Says the one who flew the false alarms on Midvinter, Void Station and the hunt for the Ruination! If it is what I think it is, it may be a false alarm, too. Hopefully we will find out that's really on Julie: Julie is always one to launch us on false alarms, but Jedi business called her away to the Mustafar sector" Pixie commented, in a tone that left no doubt as to the sarcasm in the last statement.

"Heavy concussion missiles loaded" the technician told the pilots.

"All squadrons, get ready to take off when the enemy enters orbit: stay under cloak until targets are confirmed" the resistance wing leader told the other pilots.

Eight heavy concussion missiles were loaded on each attack craft in a secret base somewhere along the mountains of Elom, waiting for their chance to strike at the Sith when they will next come to Elom in force. Then Yula would be seated in the cockpit of her single-seater craft, initiating pre-flight checks in case an actual sortie occurred, For whatever reason that Julie did not disclose, they failed to even get to the Ruination in the first place even though Julie knew that the Ruination had two glaring weaknesses: a near-complete lack of point-defense and exposed reverse thrusters. Then again, Pixie had a point: Julie led Yula and her fellow pilots to false alarms in combat. The past few weeks were rough on the pilots as a result: their morale has plummeted to new lows. They all wished that the day come that they will actually get to fight those Sith scum... and hopefully an actual combat sortie involving Sith will mean that they will be pumped for it. Even if it was to operate strafing runs.

"What do you mean, Julie departed on Jedi business? Isn't Yula a Sith?" another pilot in Sith Hunter Squadron asked Yula. "What makes Yula a different Sith from the norm? What makes it so that they don't want to kill each other?"

"For starters, I betrayed the Sith Order, and the reasons behind my betrayal force me to consider fighting any of their splinter factions, after the Sith Order fractured: they do not appear to be different enough from the original faction to be worth working with"

"Enemy landing craft detected: prepare for immediate takeoff!" the wing commander signaled to his pilots.

Yula was the lead girl for the first flight of Sith Hunter Squadron, Daisy was the lead girl for the other. If Midvinter was any indication, the enemy would be deploying TIE fighters to protect the landing craft: these would be tin cans of death. Then again, the Sith never paid much attention to attack craft: she would be surprised if they actually deployed craft that are any better than the TIE/LNs or even the TIE/INs. The Yutans they are piloting would be elite craft by Sith standards, and so would Yula be. Under no circumstances are they to approach the carriers until other orbital reinforcements come. However the attack craft would move, unseen, having activated their cloaking devices immediately after takeoff. The enemy would not suspect that there is, in fact, an airborne resistance under the form of squadrons of fighters; they would not realize that fighters are threats to their ground forces. Plus with snow falling near their base, a blizzard even, visibility will be reduced for them even at that altitude.

"Keep tight, and decloak when within gun range of the landing craft: in these weather conditions, BVR combat is ill-advised, even if it means engaging the enemy at point-blank range"

"The enemy landing craft are closing"

Attack craft:

Spoiler

60 Yutan stealth fighter-bombers

 

[grammaticus]

"I sensed them myself, but don't let your personal agenda get in the way of our goals. The Empire needs this world and its resources paramount above all else." Turning, he gestured to the pilot, who had until this point ignored the woman. "Take us to the ridge, and prepare for mid air deployment." The last words were directed to the rest of the Kaleesh on board, who began to prepare their weapons.

Turning back to [member="Joon"], Corin tilted his head slightly as the transport began to move. "You will find it rather hard to order Kaleesh around." Turning his attention away once more, he moved to the ramp, readying himself to jump out once they got to their destination.

"Send word to the ground forces, order the current forces deployed to continue to destination. Order the rest to begin deployment to the other regions of the planet. We know what we are looking for here, we can't afford to let anyone else have it."