Mission Blood Debt – Assault on Dromund Kaas

[DM Player-Slayer]

✦​

For years, the Kainite & Sith have fed their empire on stolen lives.​

In the shadow of Dromund Kaas, men, women, and children have been stripped of names, kin, and country; sorted like cargo into categories such as labor, entertainment, and nutrition.

Some call slavery outlawed under Sith rule, yet in many places the machine only changed its name. In others, it did not even bother with the lie. The markets still trade in bodies, the courts still dress captivity as punishment, and the regime still feeds souls into its murder machine without shame or pause. Through courts, decrees, debt, and criminal sentence, the Kainite regime still finds bodies to spend. Prisoners, dissidents, debtors, and the inconvenient are fed into the same appetite, made fodder for an empire bloated on the suffering of the condemned.

Some are chained to machines until their bodies fail, whilst others are remade into silent, macabre ornaments for Sith courts, serving as entertainment. And yet others still are sent beyond the market stalls, and beyond the death ledgers, into places where living beings become product to be consumed.

The children touched by the Force are given another kind of cage. Torn from their families, they are conditioned, broken down, and reshaped into weapons; taught to serve as obedient soldiers in the very regime that butchered their kin and stole their names.

Kaas City's markets still breathe with that cruelty, where families are separated by the lift of a gloved hand, the scratch of a price across a slate, or the casual hunger of monsters.

Every frightened soul carried from these markets is a life stolen back from the dark; the Sith may rule by terror, but the future is not theirs to own.

Tonight, the chains of Dromund Kaas will be broken, and the poor and downtrodden will be set free.​

Locations: Dromund Kaas [Canon] | Kaas City, the Shadowed Dominion | ​

This raid is built for sabotage, rescue, duels, intelligence gathering, heists, and cinematic chaos. Pick an objective, split into smaller encounters, or bring your own angle into the story.

Open to: approved allies, Jedi, rescue personnel, raiders, anti-Sith forces, and neutral parties with a reason to strike against Sith interests.
If unsure, DM Braze first.

Special Note for Padawans:
Padawans are explicitly told, in character, that they are not allowed to come on this mission. Padawan writers who still wish to write in the thread may do so, but please understand there may be IC continuity follow-up if your Padawan appears here.

Braze | Ronhar Tane | Aris Noble | Ko Vuto | Novac Lyrikal | Sergeant Omen | Shuklaar Kyrdol | Eugen Aker | Jasper Kai'el | Aerik Lechner | Eira Dyn | Darth Strosius | Quinn Varanin | Kivah | Darth Prazutis | Ko Vuto | Sian Sestoi | Odom Orzmod

Objective I

ATTACKERS
Break the lines, burn the stores, and leave the Sith war machine hungry.

DEFENDERS
Hold the fields, protect the depots, and make every stolen ration cost blood.

Beneath the bruised colored skies of Dromund Kaas, across the rolling tundras of Asha, three Waystone Aperture portal devices hummed to life. Each device stood roughly ten kilometers from the next, hidden among rocky outcroppings.

Their opposing mouths had been placed far from one another by careful design. One opened beyond The Sable Verge and its anomalous reach. Another waited upon a small, desolate moon near Centerra's outer nebulae. The third had been anchored to a larger asteroid adrift near the black hole, not far from Refuge.

Across those distant thresholds, warriors prepared for a brutal assault upon the breadbasket of the Kainite domain.

Among them were the Kad Ha'rangir's Rage, a mechanized Mandalorian battalion of 1,220 troops, known in shortened field-speech as the Kad b'A'den.

The battalion's armored spine came with them: 256 IFV-01M Trataab'morut Infantry Fighting Vehicles, a screen of RS-01M Haran'calyr Recon Speeders, and a small core of 4 SIFV-01 Trataab'bral Super-heavy Infantry Fighting Vehicles. Iron, repulsor hum, and heavy treads gathered beneath the portal-light, each machine waiting to force open roads through the tundra and carry the assault toward the fields beyond.

Beside them stood the Crownguard Banner: 768 Sunfire Legionnaires gathered beneath disciplined colors of crimson gules, snowy argent and golden or, stark in contrast to the storm-darkened skies above. They were the armored line of Centerra's Sunfire Legion: shield-bearers, scouts, marksmen, medics, and steady infantry drawn into formation for the hard work of taking and holding ground.

Their Barracuda II gunships carried the first waves forward in twenty-soldier assault packages: twelve warriors aboard each gunship, with eight more housed within the attached W.A.R.T.O.R.T.L.E. carriers.

Above them gathered the Sunspine Aerie: 27 Sunfire Dragon-Knights mounted upon their Draconis war-dragons perched high with in the rocky crags. They took to the sky on living wings, their shadows passing over the assembled ranks as they circled in tight formations, ready to break the battlefield open from above.

Beyond the formal count gathered the Independent Allies, smaller allied parties, personal retinues, volunteer crews, lone operators, and other war-ready assets brought by those who answered the call for aid to help end the tyranny wrought upon the enslaved peoples kept on this light forsaken planet.

They formed the flexible edge of the assault line, gathering with idling engines. Each received a place in the wider operation, and enough signal discipline to move with the assault rather than against it.

Jedi Lord Jasper Kai'el , in command of the Jedi and serving as coordination contact for the independent allies, stood with Knight Ko Vuto at his right hand. Alongside them, Al'verde Medrit Kote of Kad Ha'rangir's Rage and Lord Protector Matthew of Valendale of the Sunfire Legion stood among the principal leaders guiding these forces into the assault proper.

Their purpose was to strike the Sith where their war machine fed itself: the fields, depots, and supply routes of Asha. If those lines broke, the Kainite domain would feel the hunger of its own violence; enemy eyes would be dragged toward the battlefield, and the liberation teams in New Kaas City would have the chaos they needed to move.

Objective II

LIBERATORS / INFILTRATORS
Slip into the slave pens, disable security, free the captives, and guide them toward extraction.

SITH / DEFENDERS
Detect the breach, secure the holding sites, recapture escapees, or turn the rescue into a trap.

Each member of the covert strike teams who chose to take part was issued a Warding Mask before deployment. Its sealed respirator, reinforced visor, encrypted comms, scanner support, toxin warnings, and mindward stabilizers gave the infiltrators a better chance to remain calm and composed while moving through the hostile underworld of New Kaas City.

The masks were meant to help them breathe through bad air, see through smoke and shadow, resist panic, and keep their thoughts guarded beneath the weight of Sith influence as they searched for the enslaved and prepared evacuation routes.

Each covert team was also supplied with mission crates of Guardian Motes and a personal allotment of 10 Haven Shield Pucks per operative.

The motes were packed for rapid defensive deployment, small enough to be carried in field cases and released where the teams needed temporary cover, protected evacuation space, or a shielded breach point. The pucks were kept closer at hand, clipped to belts, harnesses, and med-kit straps, each one a compact refuge meant to buy precious time.

Braze and Saram Kote took point with the covert team, guiding the first push beneath the noise of the wider assault. Braze had been to the Markets before. He knew enough of their alleys, auction halls, guarded routes, and hidden places to understand how quickly a rescue could become a slaughter if the team moved too loudly or too soon.

Their work was quieter than the battle that would soon be raging across Asha, but no less dangerous. While the fields would be burning with open war, the infiltrators were meant to slip into New Kaas City's amidst Trade Federation transport ships in the underworld, find the enslaved, break open holding sites where they could, and guide as many people as possible toward shielded extraction points before the Sith could close their fist around the breach.

Objective III

ALL SIDES
Bring your own objective: duels, sabotage, scouting, betrayals, personal missions, strange Force encounters, rescue attempts, grudges, or side plots. Use the chaos to steal credits, relics, intel, supplies, prisoners, weapons, or anything the Sith can no longer guard.

Beyond the main assault and the covert rescue, the raid left room for every personal mission dragged into the storm. Duels, betrayals, scouting runs, sabotage, prisoner recovery, relic theft, private grudges, and opportunistic heists could all unfold beneath the same broken sky.

The battlefield was wide, the city was to be strewn in to chaos, and not every story had to follow the central plan. Some came for justice. Some came for profit, whilst others came because the Sith had taken something from them, and the chaos of the raid gave them one narrow chance to take something back.

 

[Sian Sestoi]

Spoiler: Objective I'm At

Objective 1 - Kill the Food Supply

Sian took a moment to steady her breath, focusing on the mechanical hiss-click of the Warding Mask filter instead of the oppressive air of Dromund Kaas. In the tundra of Asha, the dark side extinguished any trace of the Light Side, as she discovered when she attempted to connect with the Force, only to be met with significant resistance, akin to pulling a sword through quicksand.

She felt a sense of satisfaction as her fingers gripped the cool metal hilt of her lightsabers. She understood that the Force was just one aspect of being a Jedi; it didn't fully define their capabilities, as she would demonstrate against the servants of Bogan.

The objective here was to draw focus away from New Kaas City, and that was precisely what she intended to do after slipping away from the main body of their forces. A sharp, rhythmic crunch of gravel drew her attention.

Sian pressed herself against a ridge of volcanic rock, her eyes narrowing behind the visor of her mask. Below her, a squad of Kainite Sith Troopers was advancing through the ravine. They moved with the rigid, unnatural discipline characteristic of soldiers serving an empire founded on fear, armor spotless, blasters held at the ready position.

If she activated her lightsaber, the dazzling plasma would give her position away to every heavy artillery unit across the field system. Her gaze swept over the nearby landscape, landing on a heavy-duty plasma torch that had been carelessly left in a crate of construction materials next to a partially buried trench line.

This low-tech device was probably abandoned by an enslaved worker who was clearing the rocky terrain prior to the attack. Sian acted without hesitation; she moved swiftly. She descended the slope, her boots making no more noise than the wind rushing over the tundra. Her fingers wrapped around the sturdy handle of the torch.

It was an old-fashioned tool, relying on a basic chemical fuel cell to produce a focused cutting flame. When she ignited it, a soft, muted thud echoed, completely drowned out by the far-off clamor of the Mandalorian gunships.

She held her position, waiting for the rear guard of the trooper squad to be directly beneath her. Gathering the minimal friction she sensed in the air, she concentrated a tight burst of telekinetic pressure into the torch's exhaust nozzle.

The controlled cutting flame exploded fueled by the forced air and Sian's focused intent, the torch transformed into a ruptured fuel line. A fierce, roaring arc of orange fire surged outward, cascading down into the ravine like a natural flamethrower.

The black and red armor of the last three troopers was instantly consumed, the sudden, searing heat shattering their visors and igniting their packs before they could even comprehend the ambush. The acrid scent of burning plastoid and ozone permeated the narrow trench.

 

[Odom Orzmod]

Spoiler: Objective Where Am I

Objective II - Free the Enslaved

The neon glow of New Kaas City seeped through the dense, sulfurous fog of the market underbelly, casting sickly shades of green and violet across the bustling alleyways. Within the Warding Mask, her Mikkian's tendrils writhed restlessly against the cushioned interior.

Even with the mask's stabilizers emitting a low, artificial frequency to filter out the oppressive weight of the planet's Dark Side aura, she could sense the pervasive despair of Dromund Kaas. It wasn't merely a faint disturbance in the Force; but the quivering fatigue of the countless enslaved species shuffling through the market squares.

Her grip tightened around the unlit hilt of her lightsaber, concealed beneath her tattered local cloak. Her knuckles turned white at the sheer magnitude of the Kainate's brutality knowing that the stakes were suffocatingly high.

Yet, Odom refused to let the anxiety immobilize her. Instead, she transformed it into a fierce resolve. The Sith would attempt to tighten their grip on this city the moment the broader assault on Asha registered on their tactical screens. She had to ensure these people were evacuated before that trap snapped shut.

Odom adjusted the heavy harness across her chest. Attached to her tactical vest were ten Haven Shield Pucks, their metallic surfaces chilling against her fingers. Behind her, fellow infiltrators quietly transported the compact crates of Guardian Motes. They were entering the jaws of the beast, and when the extraction commenced, those motes and pucks would be the only barrier preventing the incoming Sith vanguard from turning the rescue into a massacre.

As she passed a line of alien laborers shackled in plasma-cuffs, Odom locked eyes with a Twi'lek child peering out from a rusted holding pen. A familiar rage surged beneath her pragmatism, but she compelled her shoulders to relax, recalling her Jedi training before the collapse of the Second Galactic Alliance.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Asha
Tags: Ko Vuto , Matthew of Valendale , Medrit Kote , Sian Sestoi , Open to opposition

Lightsaber, Refuge, Respite, Jedi Outcasts, Grafted into Stone
​

A galaxy on fire.

That was the vision that Darth Carnifex had shown him as a boy. It was the vision that defined his course of action. No matter the cost or limitation, there was no greater objective than the preservation of all things. To stave off the nightmare that haunted him.

At present, he sat in meditation within one of many W.A.R.T.O.R.T.L.E. carriers. He didn't do so often, but he wanted to gather as much strength as he could for what was to come. He was not to the same level of Force power as the average Jedi, but he knew how to get the most out of the tools he had. The items he carried to augment his strength would still need a steady stream of focus. After he felt the transport whir to life, he glanced up to look out the viewport. Black spires rose into the storm-stricken sky, sickly and foul. Being amidst the darkness of this place made the hair on his back stand up. The phantom pain of his lost arm flared up, if only for a moment.

"Eyes up, Vuto," Jasper spoke to Ko. "Time to make some noise."

From there he moved to his communicator, hailing Matthew of Valendale and Medrit Kote .

-"Don't imagine it will be long before hell rolls up on us,"- he stated -"Let's not give them any patience of our own. See any target? Fire at will. I'll see you on the flip side."-

Jasper let out a heavy exhale before he turned back to the Kel Dor.

"Ready?"

 

[Ko Vuto]

Domund Kaas

Jasper Kai'el | Matthew of Valendale | Medrit Kote | Sian Sestoi ​

For better or for worse Ko had never been to this side of the galaxy. Dromund Kass was a beautifully stormy and tempestuous planet that reminded him of his home. Even in such a dark and corrupted planet the universal need for balance constantly raged in its own skies with each brilliant flash of lightning. Sensing the constant clashing of natural and unnatural fury across the world.

The Kel Dor’s body rocked and shook some with the turbulence felt across the armored speeder he was in. Yet he remained undisturbed, hidden eyes were closed behind his mask. Focusing and grounding himself in the present. Trusting in whatever fate may have in store for him this day. Ko had informed his apprentice that they would not be joining him on this mission. Ko had already gone through enough trouble reeling Valor out of Sith clutches, he wasn’t going to risk sending them back now.

Gently his pale eyes opened as Jasper addressed him. Turning his head to face the man, Ko nodded. “Indeed, Master Kai’el.” Normally given Ko’s background he wouldn’t have been too keen on the nature of their mission here. Ko has dealt with all consuming plagues of locusts that propagated across the neglected wilds of Nubia. Now he found himself on the other side of such a struggle.​

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

Tags: Jasper Kai'el Ko Vuto Sian Sestoi Medrit Kote Open

Dawnstar Reliquary : Crown of Command | Sunfire Legionnaire Armor | Dragon Knight War Mount | Sunfire Drakeshroud | G.o.o. Grappler | Utility Belt | Protective Cloak | Armoured Robes | Mist Projector | Re-Pulse Ring | Lock 'n' Shock™ | Sunsaber x 2 |

Matthew stood uneasy at the helm of command, the fresh weight of the Lord Protector's crown still heavy upon his brow and conscience alike. This was his first true act as leader of their people; This wouldn't be some pretty ceremony, nor a valiant speech given among kinsmen... This was an act of command that would send good men and women to die on a foreign, storm-choked battlefield far from the sunlit fields of Centerra.

He knew the cost.... He could already feel it in his chest, as a heavy ache churned beneath the severe outer facade of resolve. Some of these volunteers would never return home nor see their families or loved ones again. Their blood would stain the black soil of Dromund Kaas while the rest of the galaxy turned a blind eye to the atrocities committed here, as if slavery, torture, and dark-side corruption were simply an acceptable daily routine. If this nest of vile evil went unchecked, it would only spread, feeding on indifference until entire worlds burned beneath their banners.

Yet they had still risen to the occasion. Where lesser souls might have looked away and cowered behind walls of indifference, these men and women chose to stand in defiance of the profane machine that ground the innocent beneath its heel, fed upon the helpless, and spent lives like coin for the sake of macabre entertainment.

He sent out a hail to his followers and near a thousand steady voices carried back to him through the command channel.

"Aye," Matthew called back, his voice warm and steady despite the storm in his heart. "We're at the ready."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, reaching out through the Force. Drawing on the light that had guided him through every trial, he wove through the Crown across the entire host as his own force signature could be felt blazing outwards in a radiant, unifying presence weaving Battle Meditation across the ranks, in a steadying presence that sharpened minds, steadied hands, and kindled courage in every heart under his command. At the same time, he channeled Force Valor, bolstering the resolve, speed, and accuracy of the Dragon-Knights and Legionnaires around him, turning apprehension into focused fire.

His cerulean gaze lifted to the bloody, bruised horizon. With a single decisive motion of his gauntleted hand, he gave the order.

"Skyreaver and Tempest, with me."

Below, the first Dragon-Knights of the Sunspine Aerie launched from the crags. Great war-dragons beat their massive wings, cutting pale silhouettes against the darkened sky as they formed up for the opening strafing runs. The thunder of armored scale and heavy wingbeats rolled like righteous judgment across the tundra.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Dark clouds gathered ominously above New Kaas City, the screech of lightning illuminating the blackened sky with every tumultuous bolt. The world had only fallen deeper into the Dark Side's embrace since the Kainate fully entrenched themselves at the seat of the old throne. There was little left of the old Dromund Kaas now, wiped clean by the hands of gods. Now it was a shadowy reflection of those who ruled it, a dark miasma of fear, anger, and hatred.

The world sat preeminent among the Sith Empire's expansion dominion, nominally separate from the power-structure of Jutrand but intimately woven into Sith politics. With the hypergate at Floruum fully operational, the two disparate segments of the Empire were just as connected as if they were astrologically indivisible. Not that the Kainate had ever been obstructed by spatial distance, but the tightly woven inter-connectivity was of great advantage to supranational shadow state run the Zambrano dyarchy.

One of these same dyarchs, Darth Carnifex, watched the cityscape of New Kaas City from the Sith Palace. He'd been drawn to this world again many cycles prior thanks to a premonition, a premonition that came from the Avulsuna. They'd consulted the Dark Oculus, and divined that a terrible stillness would fall over Dromund Kaas, where even the eternal storms would give pause as silver stars descended through the clouds like wounds in the heavens. They spoke of a false dawn, of a radiant aurora, of three distinct bodies yet united in spirit and mind.

The Dark Lord never disregarded premonitions from the Oculus, even if they were cloaked in mysticism. Even now as He watched from high above the city, He could feel them. Threads winding and interweaving below, shatterpoints aligning. Pieces on the board moving according to their nature, He could sense it all; so intimately in tune He was with the Dark Side of the Force.

With a sharp hiss and whoosh of air, the door to the chamber slipped open. Two women entered, each one markedly different from one another but bound by the same power that emanated from the Dark Lord. Veyra Halcyon walked with a cautious gait, eyes scanning ahead and to the sides at all times. She wore a tailored officer's uniform dyed maroon red, her black hair pulled back underneath a military cap. Besides her was Zadre, standing well a head taller than Veyra, her athletic form concealed beneath Kainate armor.

Neither knelt, though Veyra inclined her head in respect and Zadre's tail was wagging incessantly. When He did finally look at them, it was through a glance cast over His shoulder.

"How would you like to go hunting?"

 

[Awnry]

Awnry stood on the ship's bridge, near the forward viewport, watching the entrance portal hanging outside Centerra's Nebula. Against the darkened backdrop of space, he could see his own faint reflection in the smooth surface of the view-port glass: copper-red hair drawn back, blue eyes narrowed in quiet study, posture held too neatly for someone who had only recently been allowed to stand where he wished.

Before him, an array of live feeds recorded what lay beyond the portal. Screens glowed to life across the bridge, all carrying a different view, and Awnry watched them all intently with invested attention.

He wondered how many people had looked through windows like this and thought only of travel. Awnry looked at it and thought of all the years he had mistaken walls for all there was and the only future left for him..

 

[Braze]

Tags: Saram Kote Odom Orzmod | Open​

Having been personally escorted to the markets by none other than Darth Carnifex himself, under the guise of Avarice , Braze now knew the path. He knew where the cages were kept and the various individuals whom waited to be purchased for use. He would serve as the one to lead the team back into that place, in hope of liberating those still trapped there.

"You will walk with me, Avarice. We are to head to the slave market, and you will choose a slave to take as your own. You will give them your relic, and in the coming year you will feed them, clothe them, and ensure that they do not die. What else you do with them is your privilege, Avarice, I will not interfere or meddle. At the conclusion of the year, we will see what has been wrought of this test."

Perhaps the results of that 'test' were coming to fruition much earlier than a years time, and had reached far beyond what Darth Carnifex may have expected when he gifted his apprentice a slave to care for.

Avarice, as it turned out, had been a rather fitting Sith guise for Braze to wear. After all, one 'gift' had not been enough. Perhaps, by Sith terms, it was greedy to return and steal back the rest of the slaves; every last one he could. He wanted every stolen soul he could reach, so he could set them free.

Picking up on an emotional surge through the force Braze noticed Odom Orzmod and set a gentle reassuring hand too her arm. He tried to offer her a reassuring kindness through the force seeking to offer her some form of calming presence in an effort to ease her tensions and to let her know that things were going to be okay soon. He glanced to Saram Kote , ' How are we looking so far?'

 

[Odom Orzmod]

Spoiler: Objective Where Am I

Objective II - Free the Enslaved

In the high-stakes environment of Dromund Kaas, any physical touch on her body could only belong to an enemy or an escaped slave from the market. She was unable to perceive the fear that a slave might feel in that moment, as her thoughts raced.

Therefore when Braze hand touched her cloaked forearm, her instinct to fight or flee overshadowed any rational thinking. Before her conscious mind could even register the familiar Force signature, Odom's instincts kicked in. With a swift, violent twist of her hips, she broke his grip by wrenching her arm down while simultaneously drawing her lightsaber from beneath her tattered cloak.

The emitter was pressed directly against Braze's chest, her thumb hovering just a hair's breadth above the activation button. One press, and a plasma blade would have brutally pierced through his chest. Only then, as the oxygen cycled within her Warding Mask, did her Mikkian tendrils perceive the truth.

They flared, vibrating intensely as they finally recognized the specific, calm resonance of the Jedi standing in front of her. She froze, the green ignition sequence caught in her throat. For a breathless, suffocating moment, they stood face-to-mask in the crowded alleyway, the passing slaves unaware of the near-fatal confrontation.

With a sharp, low growl that her mask's respirator transformed into a metallic rasp, Odom pulled her weapon back and hid it within her robes. She made no apologies, her body still charged with adrenaline.

"What are you, an idiot?" she spat, her voice slicing through their private, encrypted comm channel. "Attempting to touch me without proper warning, especially in such a dangerous situation. In case you haven't realized, we are right in the heart of a Sith Stronghold." She leaned in a bit, the dark, reinforced visor of her mask reflecting the sickly green neon of the market as she awaited information from Saram Kote

 

[Braze]

Tags: Odom Orzmod Saram Kote ​

Braze's grip was light, and he made no motion to stop her. He offered to remove his presence from her form entirely, letting her act as she saw fit, making no motion that might come across as a threat… He didn't see death coming for him here; either that or he was already at peace with the possibility of dying here for this cause, even at such a young age.

He was oddly calm for being in a place like this. He remembered well enough the immense stress he had been under the last time he was here. He could not blame her for the response. He should have known better than to try and reach her unprompted.

A small pang of guilt slipped through before his mental shields slammed shut once more, like the mighty gates of an impenetrable citadel. He tried to clear his head and set his emotions aside… they would be dangerous if allowed to wander freely here, and he did not want to endanger their mission. He drew a slow, steady breath and let it go settling his nerves and focusing on the task a head of them.

She was right; he probably should not have touched her without asking first, let alone allowed his signature to flare, even a little, in such a specific and directed manner.

He did not argue with that. He only offered back a meek, mousy response through the private encrypted comms.

I'm sorry.

 

[Sian Sestoi]

Spoiler: Objective I'm At

Objective 1 - Kill the Food Supply

Jasper Kai'el Ko Vuto Medrit Kote Matthew of Valendale

The weapon's roar faded into a soft, dying hiss as the fuel cell ran out. Sian discarded the empty plasma torch casing onto the ground, her eyes already locked on the two troopers who had managed to survive the explosion. They were turning, their blasters raised in a frantic, disorganized panic, the once rigid discipline of the Kainite soldiers crumbling under the sudden, primal fear of being ambushed in their own stronghold.

She didn't allow them the opportunity to call for help through their comlinks. Sian leaped over the edge of the trench. She refrained from igniting her lightsabers; the risk of detection by enemy sensor grids sweeping the upper ridges was still too great. Instead, she utilized the momentum from her drop to drive her boot firmly into the chest of the nearest trooper.

The force of the impact cracked his chest plate and sent him crashing backward into the rocky wall of the ravine with a dull, heavy thud. The last soldier swung his blaster rifle toward her face, but Sian was already within his reach. Her hand shot out, seizing the hot barrel of the rifle and yanking it upward just as it fired, sending a brilliant red bolt harmlessly into the bruised sky above.

With a quick, brutal twist of her hips, she drove her elbow into the weak seam of his helmet's neck guard. The trooper went limp, collapsing into the ash beside his fallen comrades. Silence returned to the ravine, save for the crackle of smoldering armor and the distant, rhythmic thrum of the Mandalorian Trataab'morut fighting vehicles pushing the main assault forward.

Sian found herself surrounded by the remains of the enemy squad, her chest heaving beneath the filter of her protective mask. Her eyes wandered down to them, a chilling burden weighed heavily on her chest not from the dark side but the stark truth of her violent actions. She did not take pleasure in ending lives, nor did she find satisfaction in the acrid scent of burning plastoid.

However, her mission here was not yet complete. The Kainite sensor networks would detect a squad going dark, and a thermal spike from a flamethrower attack would attract reconnaissance droids within moments. In a hurry, Sian seized the collars of the troopers' armor, dragging their lifeless forms one by one toward a thick patch of dense, sulfurous tundra brush that thrived at the base of the volcanic ridge.

The vegetation in this area was resilient, nourished by the underground heat and toxic vents typical of Dromund Kaas. She concealed the remains deep within the smoking, bubbling roots of the brush, scattering loose volcanic ash and slag over the charred plating. When the orbital sweeps or automated scouts scanned for heat signatures, the thermal bleed from the bodies would seamlessly merge with the natural geothermal vents erupting through the Asha flats.

"Lord Kai'el. I'm moving into position on the flanks. Hopefully to break through their rear guard and target their supply deposits. Anything to make their retaliation against us just a bit harder." Drawing her twin lightsabers from her belt, she surveyed the terrain ahead after reporting her plan to Jasper Kai'el .

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Dromund Kaas was born anew.

Gone was the influence of the Ashlan Crusade, swept away was the remnants of past Empires that bloomed on the surface of the Sith Throneworld. Ever since the sun was eclipsed by a thunderous battle fleet and the Kainate had come, everything had changed when their iron grip slammed shut. Their dominion was entrenched so deep around the worlds blighted heart, drowning all within the lightless depths of the Dark Side, and transfiguring the world forever into a Kainite domain. The Umbral Maw drowned the light, bleeding hope into the depthless abyss and replacing it with malice and hate. It was a place unlike any other in the whole of the galaxy, even the likes of Sith capitals as Jutrand failed to capture the dark majesty that Dromund Kaas had become. The rage of the dark side bloomed in powerful storms, its miasma choked the world in black clouds and ravenous lightning. Under the hand of gods world bloomed like a heart of suffering and death where lives were snuffed out as swiftly as light switches, ground beneath the iron boot of the Kainate war machine, beneath the hammer of industry.​

​

The Kainate ground every resource from the bones of the world, every continent held factories that produced material for the shadow state. It was only on the surface that it provided tithes to the Sith Empire, the Sanctum Aegis Directive and clever machinations had ensured that only a trickle ever even made it to the Eleventh Sith Empire, the bulk of it vanished into the stars. All engineered by the hand of one of the Kainate's prime Dyarchs, the Architect of Death that transfigured the world, Darth Prazutis. The Shadow Hand sat atop His colossal throne shrouded in darkness, clad in His legendary panoply of war. Long before their intrusion He was forewarned of their coming, foretold in the Dark Oculus that warned of the danger that would befall the world. Already the Dark Titan had made preparations to greet the coming cataclysm with the storm of fury, to close His iron fist around them as soon as they arrived. Before Him stood two full cohorts of the Umbral Guard, Execution Pikes gripped tight as officials poured into the antechamber, falling to their knees before the Dyarch of the Kainate.​

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"Mouth of Ruin we beseech you. They come for Zal'vaskad. Deliver unto them the truth of oblivion, grace us with your divinity and wipe away the stain of intrusion." For moments there was no response from the throne. So in tune with the Dark Side was He, that it showed Him what technology could not, its malevolence shrouded Him like a cloud. Braziers flickered as the Mountain finally stood, the blackstone creaking under His might. "Their blood will fertilize the looms next harvest. They have dared to walk sacred soil, and their intrusion will be answered with fire. Place this world under lockdown, mobilize the Immortal Legions. The Blackblade Guard will come to Zal'vaskad. Make them bleed for every step they take." The Dark Lord descended the steps, as officials scrambled away to attend His bidding. The Umbral Guard assembled beside their master then. Down from the Shadow Armada came several squadrons of Skarnath-class Legion Landers towards the Sith Citadel where the Blackblade Guard mustered, preparing for the battle to come. All at once alarms had begun to thunder across every continent, the rigors of daily life grinding to a halt amidst the sudden invasion, the Kainate quickly reacted to meet it with overwhelming force. ​

Matthew of Valendale​