Bitter and petty like nothing you have ever seen.

[Mythos]

[member="Darth Orcus"]

Who we serve: members of the Tion Hegemony, Techno Union, and Trade Federation may utilize our services. Request denied.

You don't do that... at least, you don't do that to a former Sith Lord who is a petty and as prideful as they come.

Mythos had made it a point to stay away from Sith Space after the incident in Lujo, yet he still had a score to settle and some cortosis to deliver as part of an agreement, so, two birds one stone... but this was one fat bird. The trip from Midvinter was long, boring and uneventful as could be expected from traveling in civilian transport with a handful of members of the Jar'Kai who trained in the most elite forms of warfare known to center space. No axes, no big guns of any kind, it would look strange to see the famed Sentinels in civilian clothes, but inside their large backpacks in disguise as civilian baggage were all their equipment and toys... this was going to be... fun.


Mythos carried an extra bag, the civilian transport charged a bit extra for the larger container but nothing too expensive, a few bribes here and there and the large cortosis shipment meant to for the desk of [member="Darth Prazutis"] went passed without a checkpoint.... and there she was....

Coruscant.

He had missed this place... in a strange way... next stop was the underbelly of Coruscant... he needed some explosives. Luckily due to the nature of the civilian transport, that is exactly where they would be dropped off and suddenly it was the foul smell of the underbelly that permeated in the air and not the blowing colds of Midvinter. He nearly smiled, but his face was covered at all times with his old black cloths. He could almost hear [member="Asajj"] call him "clothface" once again, now that did make him smile.. she was special.

"Tickets please, welcome to Coruscant"

Mythos did not blink, the travel was long, and there was no direct trip to Coruscant, this was the fifth transport needed to arrive and carefully chosen by their expertise to allow them to slip into the planet with enough bribery to avoid inspection... it was not easy... but it was part of the training of being elite soldiers.

No talk through coms, they worked on hand signals, gestures and glances synchronized perfectly to move through the crowds and into the back alleyway where Mythos would meet with his old time informant who would find a way or die trying, to get his shipment to Prazutis as Mythos knew he was a man of his word... what was about to do today was... questionable in morals and in dignity... many would frown upon it. This Mythos was not the Sith Lord anymore, but old habits were hard to kick...

Welcome to the underbelly...

It was a few hours walk, every step a glance into arrest by OS security or recognition as a Sith Lord, yet nothing for now came, his training with the sith assassins allowed him to blend and become an illusion even without the force, this was a man who penetrated the security of the highest chiss installation without using the force as an acolyte... all for infatuation... Mythos was hell, if he put his mind to it.

The alleyway designated came up and the zeltron spy Mythos knew since before the OS days slid from the shadows to the half dim light of a broken alley-light to meet the former Sith lord.

"You are bigger than i remember...."

"Well...My wife cooks a mean swamp beast..."

"you also are not dead..."

"You would do good to keep that to yourself... such knowledge is bad for your health..." His tone was dry, cold and menacing like never before.

She shuffled and the Sentinels tensed making Mythos half glance back to assure himself there was no trickery abound.

"You changed... You are not who i met before"

There Mythos did smile a wide grin beneath his black cloth. "You have no idea... do you have the shipment?"
"I do... do you have the money?"
"It has been transferred to your account since before i came here..."

The zeltron seemed shocked, such trust and confidence from a former Sith Lord? did he know she would do her part? or did he know her thoughts about him in a personal life? She did not have time to ponder, passing the gravsled of detonite and thermals in exchange for the case of Cortosis she took one last glance into his brown eyes, now not tainted with yellow and reddish blaze. She checked her account quickly, the funds were untraceable being washed by Galicus himself but they were there, the account however... was compromised and could be hauled back into nothingness with a good slicer and some fast fingers... "Be careful...."

Mythos nodded but did not respond, turned heel and walked away with the equipment back to the ware house. There were still some preparations to do, everything required a great deal of preparation... no slip ups could be made. Before he fully walked away he pulled one of his men to his side and closed in on his ear.

"Watch her, make sure she makes the delivery and talks to no one else, once she is done, put her own knife in her neck and toss her into the refineries... no witnesses... make it look like a suicide."

A nod, an exchange of glances... and off to phase two..

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Years ago, Safeharbor Orphanage had been established under the guise of taking in the poor and disadvantaged of Coruscant. Yet, like any good Sith enterprise, it served a double purpose. Not only did it truly care for the impoverished orphans, give them a place to live and food in their bellies - all very good for publicity - it also trained the most promising in the art of combat. Secretly, of course, couldn't have news getting around that orphans were being raised as soldiers. All the same, that was what had happened.

Then the Vong rose up and took a greater role within the One Sith. Orcus, seeing the potential for what might happen and despising the Vong as a species, left the One Sith in a rather memorable manner. He took his thousands of orphans, put them aboard the Immortal-class Dreadnought Storm's Eye, and then commandeered the entire vessel from Captain Tosma. From there, he left for Techno Union space and was not heard of again until he assisted in the destruction of the Rebel Alliance on Geonosis.

In any event, the original orphans - those trained for war - were all gone. The orphanage itself was still running, but Orcus had no direct sway over it and no longer oversaw the classes, instead funding the non-profit through his various business enterprises. Why? Well because in the wake of stealing a kriffing Immortal it seemed entirely likely that there would be reprisals. Of course, there hadn't been any.

Not until now.

[member="Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Warehouse 47, market district of lower Coruscant, 20:10

It had been a few hours since they had arrived in the safe house, everyone being prepared... second story of the warehouse was being patrolled by a single sentinel and with a hover drone to feed a 3D holographic image of the next one hundred square miles into their their wrist communicators. The high tech piece of equipment on each of the wrists of the men was the single biggest achievement in Atrisian technology in the last three hundred years, from measuring pulse, to being a projectile launcher, to a long range communicator the piece of equipment was worth more than anything else they had on them, and they had quite a bit...
They looked ordinary... Atrisian men.

But after a bit of preparation and gearing up in their suits, they looked like the warriors they were meant to be.

The mission demanded a different shade of color in their armor... nothing difficult. Black was good and necessary this moment.

"Echo, ready and packed, do you have the location?"
"Yes sir"

"very well... Let us begin."

It was not the begining of the mission, but the begining of their pre-war ritual, a meditation and a series of traditional bows and gestures to get the team in perfect synchronization for the task ahead and for the spilling of blood. Secret to even the highest ranking clans of warriors in Atrisia this ritual was reserved for only the elite of the entire planet to execute. Those who did not expect to return alive...

It dated back thousands of years...

"We are ready"

The night was dark and cold, but when they emerged from the building they did so as shadows in step with one another and making no more sound and giving off no more of a force signature than the slightest breeze of the air. They were elites, trained for all their lives in the art of combat and warfare, clans of warriors one after the other passing every individual and minuscule detail of all missions and training through generations to make sure that culture and history was never lost. From the streets to the rooftops, the unit was on the move and Mythos was packing a particularly highly advanced bow, high tech and with precision infra-green lazer rights that could match a blaster but fired a durasteel alloy projectile that weighed next to nothing on his quiver in his back.

He could not force jump....but he did not have to, to keep up with the unit. One arrow flying followed by a compacted ultra-fiber cord and he ziplined through the ceilings with no sound in front of his troops, his training at Midvinter served him well here. A few miles of roof jumping and they arrived at their Objective... the transport line to the west sea of Corsurcant.

Mythos gestured a few of his troops to flank left and engage the security personnel at the lower floor while he and the main team would engage all personnel inside the transport vessel and commandeer it, but before they could to that they needed to jam and obstruct all security footage, live feed cameras and any security detail the One Sith could have positioned... It was a professional job, not for grunts. Their wrist devices were prepared for two EMP jams for this mission, this was the first scheduled. Mythos took the emp dart, loaded it into the high powered bow, aimed it straight down to the main power assembly breaker of the transport facility....one hundred and fifty meters... easy shot.

Inhale... exhale... loose.

While the arrow was in the air, the forces in the ground were eliminating the security personnel. Dropping down from the ceiling and using only close combat techniques with their hands they eliminated the enemy with neck snaps, by smashing their heads into the ground or by tearing our their jugulars with pressure gloves. The tricky part was, immediately after the arrow took out the electrical components, jack the devices into the holonet control panel and set all security and footage devices on loop for the last two hours.... the program was previously installed... it still needed the hand of an elite to execute.

Was what heard was a shuffle, a jack and a beep. The signal went up to Mythos, and the emp was remotely disengaged. Special type of magnetic [pulse made sure there was no damage to the systems just a slight interference that would only be noticed by a second, maybe two.

After that... the team was off inside the transport shuttle, second team dragged the bodies of the killed guards behind them into the shuttle and cleaned the blood from the floor... professionals if there ever existed any.

"Kill everyone on board, we dump the bodies at 23:33:43 stat, port side."

When the team went inside the shuttle there was a flash of yellow light from their blades as the team systematically went eliminating any and all passengers, personnel, security, animals, children and other organic or droid beings inside of the shuttle. The extermination was done at 21:00 stat... just on Schedule. Coms lit up in the cock pit as the team cleared blood of their armor.

"Shuttle four four three this is command tower, ready for transport over"
A smile went through the entire team...so far so good, Mythos took the com and put the voice modulator set for the captains voice... a human.

"Command tower this is shuttle four four three... ready for transport to Safe Harbor Orphanage over and out"
​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

It was good to be king.

The days of a Dark Councilor were both busy and entertaining especially for Darth Prazutis, Director of Intelligence. He stood at the head of the single largest spynet in the Empire, with few rivaling its size and scope in the entire galaxy. The tyrant Zambrano after all was in the pit of vipers all vying for dominance riddled with alternate agendas, half truths, and lies spread around. It was in this pit that he was King, the throne belonged to him and those seeking power would find it best to think twice before approaching the Goliath of Panatha. Respected among his peers and feared by his enemies and those beneath him, the Director was known for his immense wealth of knowledge and intel, his allies and loyalists were everywhere.

The Director had any number of a hundred different aliases and all of the mail he received from any of them was analyzed, carefully screened in a complex system of thermal, UV, biological scans, especially for pathogens. After all he was a powerful man and immediately that painted him as a potential target for the brave and the bold. But today had been different he had been notified of a particularly large shipment sent to just Braxus. Immediately after watching the visual view of it being opened up and seeing the cortosis inside he knew who it was from. A dead man. A dead man walking the earth who Prazutis helped early on arrange for his dissapearance from Sith Space, and his confirmed death after having the force severed from his body.

A grin formed on Prazutis's face as he kicked his feet up on a large desk in the office he was currently sitting in. The day he showed up to Mythos's palace and the duel where his champion Gorkai faced off against the Champion of Atrisia, and came out victorious over the man. Prazutis opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a tiny square box made of mahogany, its inside lined with velvet where a few cigars sat, the symbol of Atrisia embroidered in gold on the inside of the red velvet on the lid. They were another acquisition from his trip there, some cigars from the personal stache of the Emperor himself. Prazutis never smoked in the recent years, and it's powers of addiction never claimed him, but he did smoke with the Warforged Titan of Atrisia.

So he sat there smoking a grin on his face "My Lord, there's no name on who this gift is from." An officer said to the Director. Prazutis puffed a plume of smoke into the air and looked at the man "I know who it's from. A dead man. Load it on my shuttle."

Oh it was good to be king.

[member="Mythos"]

 

[Mythos]

Brave and bold, but elite soldiers... UV Scans, and thermal scans would be perfect for detecting traditional explosives and other type of demolition tools but the explosives used by the Atrisian soldiers inside every single bar of cortosis in the box, was hand crafted and made of ancient elements, primitive, more akin to ancient powder than anything else, yet still easily remotely detonated with a small incision to the largest bars beneath the box. Had it been properly checked and handled by an explosives team trained to detect traditional Atrisian explosives among other more older and simple means of demolition it would have been clear as day, but... not many of those were around... No one in the galaxy used detonite anymore, such a shame.

"Nothing personal Braxus... just business... we will drink in hell... i'll be there soon enough"

One click and the entire section of the floor in the building went off like a nabooian parade, the deadly part of the handcrafted bomb was not the explosive or the detonation of the explosion, more the design of it. Cortosis shrapnel flew out of the box in every perceivable direction smoldering hot and some in microscopic powder that by the nature of cortosis was toxic to the touch, everything within a twenty yard radius would be painted a brown metallic coat and the floor itself would crumble. Death, by Cortosis... nasty way to go. The shockwave however was the secondary measure of death, any organic being within a few feet would have its eardrums shattered and die, that was the primary blast injury radius, twenty feet out was the secondary and thirty to forty feet out was the final third blast injury radius. Neurotrauma was inevitable at the very least.

It wasn't always so good to be the King, Mythos knew this better than most.​

No time to ponder on the fate of his associate... Mythos had a mission to attend to...

00:30 hours.

The commandeers shuttle made its way to the massive installation in the west sea of Coruscant. The ocean waves shimmered in glistening light, the reflection of it blinding the beautiful inner corridors of the well decorated cockpit of the luxury shuttle.
"My Lord, intel has arrived, we have feed over the location... there is no blackwater security on site."

Mythos stood unshaken... this was not about an Immortal star destroyer, this was not about killing blackwater soldiers... this was about sending a message to Orcus and everyone who stood his way... they could not buy themselves out of this, they could not hide, the galaxy not not big enough, it was not deep enough and it sure as hell was not strong enough to save them...

"I will burn everything they own, everything they love... then..." Mythos paused to look at his commanding officer of the sentinels, a man small but fierce and terrible in battle beyond anyone he had ever met... "Mr Lee.... i will personally kill them..."

The engines began their stall, within a few minutes and precisely on schedule the luxury vessel arrived and their destination at the late hours of the night when everything except the pathetic security detail was asleep. As expected, passengers awaited to board, some of the Sentinels had taken the uniforms of the crew and boarded them into the ship one by one, once out of sight, their deaths and suffering would begin.

It was starting, this was the begining, anyone within reach would be skinned and flayed then brutalized for example before them. Atrisians knew of such cruelty that would make even the One Sith swallow hard.... and it had begun with the passengers. Tongues and eyes ripped out, while the main force of the sentinel sorrounded the Orphanage... it was only then the silent screams would begin.

The sentinels approached the building from all sides, every security was cut down mercilessly and their bodies opened then hung over the wooden poles, swings and toys laid out of the children. Mythos did not consider them innocent, they were trained for war, they were combatants... of any age... they were soldiers.

A Nod... then it would begin.

Black figures descended upon the place like shadows, not breaking a single window or a single glass, not making a single noise or raising a single force signature while they went door to door and room to room singling out every individual organic of every age, size and gender before executing them in the most horrible and brutally undesirable way possible. Once dead, their bodies were thrown out to hang over the walls of the Orphanage as the blood dripped down giving the place a new coat of paint...

1:13 hours. The Final Solution.

"Seventeen... Say goodbye to Corsucant boys." Code for the final order to wrap things up, so far they had been perfectly on schedule, met absolutely no resistance from agents of the OS, Assassins or surveillance. It was not because the One Sith had grown sloppy, quite the contrary they had upped security by quite a bit... it was because simply... they were the best in the galaxy at what they did. Silent Nights...

The morning would come harsh to the holo news, a massacre worthy of legend, possibly the single greatest warcrime committed in recorded galactic history, but there was still one last thing that needed to be done... they needed to know who was next. The Sentinels opened all faucets of water, flooded the floors and the outskirts of the compound and tainted the water with a black ink that was dense and would spread through all the water, non toxic, meant for nothing else that to highlight the obvious... Black Water... too easy.

The gym, the cafeteria, the dormitories, and the school house were all now drenched in black water, mutilated corpses and blood.

Next stop, the exit... one last chance for Coruscant to give Mythos a surprise...unlikely as that would have been. Under the cover of darkness and the dawn slowly approaching, the Sentinel returned to the craft as hyperspeed coordinates were already being set up and the tracking was being jammed, reconstituted, reinstalled and engaged... It was over... tomorrow the holo news would have a ball to talk about....

[member="Darth Prazutis"]​

 

[Laira Darkhold]

The morning would come harsh to the holo news, a massacre worthy of legend, possibly the single greatest warcrime committed in recorded galactic history,

Draco watched the news, he saw the holonews channels telling the story about the massacre at a single orphanage on Coruscant. A crime, yes. Horrible and worthy of hunting the fools who did it down, yes. Worthy of Legend, no. It would slip behind a massive list of real war crimes, the definition of a war crime being 'An action carried out during the conduct of a war that violates accepted intergalactic rules of war'. So this wasn't even a war crime, as no declaration of war had been made against the One Sith by the perpetrators, unless the Republic or Galactic Alliance were going to take responsibility for the action. Even the holonews channels, known for exaggerating stories greatly weren't even calling it the worst crime committed on Coruscant in the year. It was a mass murder, and nothing else.

Second, it wasn't even top ten war crimes. With Togoria having been burned and huge percentages of its populace rendered dead by the Zambranos, the vongforming and enslavement of Alderaan, the literal destruction of Dromund Kaas rendering an inhospitable wasteland of Ice and radiation still, Hadrix's venting of civilians, the nuclear bombing of Mandalore by the Death Watch, the butchering of the Amar carried out by the One Sith, the sinking of Ahto City, and the sacking of Coruscant by the Galactic Alliance to name a few in RECENT history, much less those carried out by the Galactic Empire, the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and the Sith of ancient times. No, this atrocity would be obscure and largely forgotten within the week.

Draco sighed to himself sitting at his home. This was little more than a tantrum, probably carried out by an acolyte whose master told him 'you are too reckless' which spurned a stereotypical reckless response. If anything, the only mistake this person did was piss of Dark Water Security, which would ban the culprits from the Corporate Alliance, the Trade Federation, and probably result in a small investigatory bounty in a few days. Once Orcus found out who had done it, the poor sap would be butchered like a fat cow in a meat locker. Draco made a note to help kill the little angst-filled acolyte who had done the deed as well.

"I guess I should go back to what I was doing." The big man said to himself, picking up his leather blacksmiths apron and pulling on his gloves returning to his forge after the news moved to a story equally ridiculously named and hyped.