Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Building From The Ash-era(OS Dominion of Ashera)

Objective: Suppress lightside cults
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] |[member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] |[member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Sage Bane"]

Through the eyes of the Nuhlrokka, the rider caught a glimpse of that women in her particular Vonduun Skerr Ygdris, with her favored exotic weapon that clashed so perfectly with the biotechnology that wrapped around corded and striated muscles, hidden beneath vonduun and armorweave. A smile formed beneath cognition hood as he looked out, the multiple eyes giving a prismatic layout of the world below. It was quite a jarring notion to be wielding the beast in such a manner but it's proficiency was something that stretched far beyond the efficacy of metal and electronics. This beast was him for the time being and he was it.

Turning on his axis, it descended back towards the battlements, cracked open by the efforts of the Firrerreo and Atrisian, the two he had sought out in the first place. For where they existed, carnage was not far behind. As Nuhl descended within distance, mouth spewed out bile that was orange and yellow and gelatinous. A stream and jet at first, it turned into something closer to a shower as it descended upon the scampering insects below. Fluid formed into fire as the substance adhered to the ground and to the flesh and to construct alike. Gabriel felt the slightest tones of fear within the beast, the slightest bit of emotion that indicated it's fear of the very thing it produced. Hairs along the legs, susceptible to flames, proved a dire weakness to this monster as it both caused damage and had to avoid the damage pursuant from it's jowls.

An odd predicament to say the least, as the monster continued to suppress the lightside cults with his own form of vengeance, fiery and outward spreading. In his own way, this was a form of deliverance and mercy, that those beneath could be so readily purified and cleansed by fire and freed from the innate weakness racking their bodies. Fear, anxiety, trembling knees - all gone in the cut of the flame, scorching the ground and leaving smoldering ashes in it's wake.
 
OBJECTIVE: Oppress Lightside cults.
[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"]

The barbed wire ripped from the ground with the precision she’d expect from someone who showed such open love for the dark side, an easy creation. Within its reaching grasp Vrag tore through cultists left and right, looking every bit the fearsome warrior Matsu had first seen on Manaan – but this time surrounded by Vong, a leader tipped by horns, portent, a very real sign of the end-times.

She felt him before she saw him, a presence that seemed to break the equilibrium of her mental bubble just long enough to make itself known. From her perch behind friendly lines she watched him work, that same powerhouse of physical control that had drawn her in months before. As the man he’d lifted from the ground began his return journey in even worse shape than he’d started it, the giant beast Matsu and Sage had conjured reached out its massive hand and caught him just before he slammed in to the ground. Though perhaps that fate would have been preferable, his body crushed in a clenched fist before the giant threw the pieces and pulp back in to the air towards Reverance, roaring before it’s individual human puzzle pieces started unwinding from each other.

It was somewhere in that process that Matsu felt the moment Sage began to roll back in to the space they shared down winding hallways that led to things she’d forbidden him from. She was torn. On the one hand she respected his eagerness to explore and learn and find, and rules were meant to be broken. On the other, this was a place only a select few were ever allowed to see. While Sage may have proved a worthy candidate for future sharing, she had said no – and she meant no.

But she would meet him halfway in deference to being on the fence about his bold move.

The dissembled human puzzle pieces of their giant melted, super-heating, molten lava punctuated by bursts of sun-spot flare. Burnt bodies of cultists tried to pull themselves from the slow-moving stream, screaming and holding up melted hands to stop their brothers rushing towards death. She backed off her magic, allowing the illusion to be powered most simply by mentalism alone. This would allow her to focus on her apprentice. The cultists would realize too late the lava wasn’t real – they would stop in boxed-in fear just long enough for the Vong to overtake them in huge numbers, cackling madly as they killed in huge waves.

The lava served more than one purpose, a set piece to the memory Sage would find. She’d felt like she was burning, convinced fire was crawling up her arm and the only way to save herself was cutting it off. She’d done it herself and she gave that same pain to Sage as he was so very eager to find it, burning and screaming and his own blood between his fingers as he relived the worst memory Matsu had. Even that weightlessness, a numbness afterwards that was somehow worse than the act itself because everything was gone.
 
Objective: Supress lightside remnants
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Reverance"]

Commander Temi's stormtrooper snipers continued to pinpoint any hapless cultists who strayed too far from the battlefield and swiftly take them down. Like sheep being herded, the Sith had the lightsiders rounded up and anytime they tried to break ranks they were herded back in by a Vong, a Sith Lord, a stormtrooper or even an illusion which kept them rooted to the spot. Her five other soldiers dutifully followed orders and placed thermal detonators on any escape speeders they could find. Loud explosions could be heard among the cacophony of battle and engine parts flew out from the blast radii.

"Commander Temi you have a message from the Lieutenant." She went to the Comms station and strapped a commlink to her head so she could converse with the Crusader's Wrath from her position on the ground. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"The Blood Monarchs are ready to deploy," came the reply. Tmoxin smiled to herself. The Blood Monarchs was her new stormtrooper platoon and she was very eager to have them get in some much needed training as a unit. The Hapan Commander looked out onto the war zone and saw three of her stormtroopers had just been shot down by a group of more battle-adept cultists. It's a good thing the reinforcements are here, she thought.
 

Vrag

The Second Seal, broken.
Objective: Suppress and/or oppress lightside cults
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"]
_________________________________________________________________________

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HEMnn9jM-o


It was rather rude, really, not responding to such a courteous offer — and from Vrag of all people — but this was Rev we're talking about, and the man had a tough, macho image to maintain. It was understandable, if lamentable. Oh, well. She'll just have to slay the rest of the encampment on her lonesome, seeing as her murder buddy and occasional partner between the sheets was seemingly too busy playing with his cannon. Fine. Just fine.

With a low grumble deep in her chest, the woman took her anger out on all that would stumble onto her path — though perhaps opposed to what Iron Maiden had to offer, the death she delivered was a small mercy — teeth bared as blood colored the Vonduun up to her elbows. The crabs writhed in excitement and pleasure against her flesh, bathing in the gore the Knight left in her wake.

With the red blade in one hand and the flamethrower in the other, the Hand of the Dark Lord cut a wide swath through the enemy line, leaving naught but charcoal and bodies wherever she went. Let no-one ever say the Sith always take and never give; in but a few months, the land would be perfect for agricultural development.

Not that Vrag would be there to see it, mind you. There were a fair few like her — though two of them were quite close by, snuffing their share of lives in their own right — people that someone fethed up back on the assembly line. Forgot to add that little machine that churns out compassion. Such a little, itsy bitsy mistake, manifested thousandfold once the individual ripened and matured. Then it burst out, one way or another; most killed themselves, or transformed it into something that went unnoticed. Politicians, CEOs, that sort of thing.

And some… some didn't.

She twirled her wrist with unnatural speed as the legs of the Vonduun aided her in the effort, and the plasma gutted another wide-eyed man like a pig.

Her cardiac muscle beat on, largely unperturbed as its owner plunged her lightsaber into the skull of another unfortunate soul. It was a good day, Vrag thought as civilization crumbled around her to the melody of a hundred throats screamed raw, to the beat of a flesh-fashioned goliath trampling the earth.

Wherever thorns may grow.
 
Objective: Assist in the Reconstruction of the Sith Temple
With all the materials unloaded and placed in their proper sections for easy access, the Sith Corps of Engineers began ushering the labours into action. The time schedule for the reconstruction project was flexible, meaning perfection and quality would not be sacrificed. However, in order for them to begin tackling the temple several old and outdated equipment and materials had to be removed. Darth Venefica took this into consideration before finalizing the time schedule.
"Tag, catalog, and package all the electronic devices. Once a manifest has been completed...transport them to the ship for the slicers and computer techs to sift through for information."
She was unsure if there was any useful information to be obtained but she wasn't taking any chances. If just a small piece of info could be discovered, that could give the Sith an advantage over their enemies. The Sith war machine was unstoppable already but the galaxy could not be conquered using outdated resources. And after that nasty business with the Netherworld Event, the galaxy was already in the grip of massive changes.
"All of the old materials removed from the building will also need to be cataloged and sent to the transport ship for assignment."
Most of the materials she witnessed during the round of inspections was just short of waste, but they still had a purpose. The factories and other yards could break them down and recycle the pieces for something more useful. Weapons, armour, warships, and even droids didn't just appear; they needed materials to be created.
 
Objective: Suppress light sided cults
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"]

Anyone who knew Sage for more than five minutes, knew that the man had never been able to properly manage boundaries. It was a wonder he’d never blinded himself looking at the sun. A death wish? Try ten of them. There was nothing worth pursuing unless pursued in excess. So when Sage made a mistake it was generally a momentous one.

As he trespassed down the sticky corridors of his Master’s mind, all common sense telling him to turn back before she rips you apart, he was pleased to discover some of the more obscure knowledge of Sith magic. She had most likely shed blood or tears to obtain the esoteric gifts she possessed. The ones he was trying to thieve. He felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly replaced with acute rage. Yes, she had told him he was unwelcome in this space. Not to mention, he was directly defying orders, a thread throughout his training. But were his boundaries mere Bantha fodder to be piled in a slag heap? That fateful day that his Master had stood out on the landing pad, and “purchased” him from Zambrano the Hutt, was a day that his boundaries were not only crossed, but broken beyond recognition and scattered like ashes into the wind that caressed her inky black hair. Still, as he thought about what he might be throwing away with his abuses, he felt a touch of regret.

He had no idea how late it was to take it all back, until it happened.

When Sage found Matsu’s memory of her burning arm, it latched onto him like a leech in a swamp. His arm began to burn with such anger and ferocity that he could feel it beyond the disturbing sight of his own slowly charring flesh. The pain was very real, so real his physical body reacted. He howled shamelessly, like a wounded animal, causing Sith troops to swing their heads his way, perplexed by the man who was screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason.

The pain was tearing Sage apart, dismantling his psyche. His hand scrambled for the vibroblade on his hip. He had to get rid of the arm. Now. There was no other way. Sage flicked on the switch of the knife and, continuing to scream, began to saw into his own skin.
 
Objective: Sith Dominance
Allies: [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Darth Arcanix"]

Tain was the last 'trooper' in the right hand column. He couldn't help but grin behind the concealment of his helmet, this would be his first action since joining. He was eager to prove his worth to his superiors, and eventually take his place among them. He would have been unused to the weight of the armor, except for the fact that Darth Ferus had had those Assassins going with him train every day in the armor until it felt like a second skin. Tain knew he wouldn't have thought to do the same, though with the experience of hindsight, he knew he wouldn't have been very convincing had they not done that training. Such a simple thing, and it helped them to not fail. Which brought them closer to victory.

Tain's hands were holding his blaster rifle. The rifle would be one that never fired, as instead of holding a power cell, it held Tain's twin saber hilts in hidden compartments, one in the pistol grip and one in the stock grip. He wouldn't have been useless with a blaster, but he wouldn't be anywhere near soldier level when wielding one, so he held the rifle at ready arms like he was trained to and began to call his anger to him. Cold, dark fury suffused him and clarified his vision, simplified his thinking.

The troopers moved inside the building and the doors closed behind him and his fellow to his left. Smartly, like parade ground troops, Tain and the fellow to his left stopped right at the doors and shifted to the side. Currently they looked like the typical guard unit that was left at crucial openings, apparently ceremonial, the actual purpose for such guards was to secure an exit for the dignitaries present in case of a double cross. The irony at their own true purpose did not escape Tain's sharpened mind. He processed it, chuckled mentally at it, then set it aside as he focused on his goal.
 
Objective: Supress lightside remnants
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Reverance"]

When two of her stormtrooper snipers turned their head at a strange howling sound too near the Comm station, Commander Temi craned her head to see what had caught their attetnion. One of the Siths, either a leader or an acolyte was thrusting a vibroblade into his own skin. At first she thought it was some kind of blood ritual which kind of made her skin crawl. Tmoxin still had vestiges of the Ni’Korish cult ingrained in her psyche and it was the one thing she hadn’t quite revealed to her superiors. And why should she? The Ni’Korish spent years slaughtering Jedi and while most of them were executed by Ta'a Chume, a few escaped and their presence was now in small numbers on her home-planet of Hapes. This was not something she wanted to readily broadcast to a bunch of Sith Lords. The Force to her was exactly the type of voodoo she was now witnessing and tried to have no part of at least on a personal level. Of course, she would join in the slaughter alongside them but that was so she could have her Monarchs.

Still Tmoxin couldn’t stand to see a healthy, battle-ready man slice off his own arm when he was capable of holding a blaster and getting out there and fighting, by the Maker! She finally ran over to him and shook him violently. The Hapan Commander then hissed in his ear, “What are you doing? Do you want to lose your limb, you stupid Azkanc?” She hoped by using a derogatory term for the Sith, not within earshot of any other Sith Lords - she wasn't suicidal - would snap him out of his destructive trance.
 
Objective: Subdue enemy resistance.
Provide close fire support to Sith Infantry units.
Secure construction site perimeter.
-------------------

The earth shook.

Descended through the clouds like a falling meteorite, the drop pod smashed into the ground with all force; leaving a modest impact crater upon the surface of the world like a scar upon flesh, a pockmark to mar the landscape for years to come. One of many, the ten meter high capsule of metal stood like an obelisk upon the surface, only to be rocked by strips of sudden sparks and blasts along its sides, flashes of light and smoke ripping the seams of the container apart.

Opening like a ripe fruit under the blade of a vibroknife, the contents were revealed. Eight and a half meters tall, the bipedal vehicle stepped forward as if taking its first steps into reality; its almost birdlike head turning to and fro with the slow, metallic whir of gears and servos, its two 'eyes' peering from behind the armored flaps protecting the transparisteel visors as if searching for prey along the surface.

And with each step, the ground rumbled; shuddering under the mass of the armoured beast standing tall upon its surface, as several more pods buried into the ground, giving birth to their own mechanical children.

"Arm cannons, keep an eye on those sensor pad readings; any metal signatures and I want to know about it before we get a leg blown off." The bothan instructed from behind the yoke of the AT-ST's controls, feeling the 'floor' of the compact cabin shake beneath his feet as the heavy servos shifted the legs beneath him into position, bringing the walker into a steady stride, jolting the body with each step. To his left, the human crewman offered a nod, likewise tapping at buttons along the control panel, bringing the walker into combat-ready state.

Sensors were quick to respond; blaster rifle reports cracking off like sparks, thermal signatures of explosions, sub-surface readouts from the footpads registering clear aside from clusters of mineral deposits. All clear.


"Cavalier walkers inbound; who's in need?" Fenn spoke, tapping with his right hand the comms unit, opening up the unit across the One Sith battle channels, hearing in response the distant sound of rifle fire and general battle haze, bringing a slight smirk to the furred man's face as his eyes spied the flashes in the near distance growing closer, edging just into range of the main guns near his toes, practically itching to be fired as power from the weapon batteries charged.

After all, the more targets, the merrier.
 

Alric Kuhn

Handsome K'lor'slug
[member="Saffron"]

Shil stood firm as the ship began to shake more and more.

The MCH was now dipping into the mountain ranges, where the winds buffeted against the massive vessel and the plateau began to look farther and farther away. The rocking of the ship got to a point where Shil had to reach out in front of himself and grab onto a metallic bar that would steady himself.

“You may want to hang on.”

The Selonian said as winds buffeted the ship.

Inertial dampners took care of many of the problems that the winds presented, but an eight hundred meter tall ship climbing down into the center of a valley among mountains was more than likely to be met with extreme resistance. Powerful torrential gales pushed against the MCH and its repulsor lifts dragged it above the surface.
 
Objective: Establish One Sith dominance
Allies: [member="Darth Ferus"]

Taeli scowled as she drove her lightsaber through one enemy's chest, throwing him aside with the Force as she carved a swath of death and injury through the enemy security forces. They clearly weren't prepared for a Sith Lady to engage them, but then they might not have been ready for any such action by the Sith. The defense seemed . . . patchy at best, and her ground forces were already making head way in taking the outskirts.

A sniper bolt rang out, taking out one Sith trooper next to her, and slid into cover as another bolt rang out to try and take her out. Accessing her datapad for a moment, she could see notification that Ferus and his team had entered the ruler's palace and would be moving to meet with the king and his nobles. Smiling to herself, she knew she needed to keep the rebels distracted, all the while, their leader they had installed would be dealt with.

Closing her datapad, another sniper bolt blew through part of the speeder she was taking cover behind, and she sighed. Fool. Reaching out with the Force, she located the sniper and their spotter. Grabbing both within a powerful Force Grip, she snapped their necks without a second thought as she stood up again and continued advancing with her forces. Once the outskirts fell, the inner part of the city was next on their list. Moving with a squad of troopers to a nearby building, she carved through the door with her lightsaber and blew it out with a Force Push.

Only a familiy of civilians were inside, cowering, as the Sith forces cleared the house and made sure no enemy forces were present.

"My apologies," she said, setting some credits on the table. "For your troubles."

Leaving with her troops, they would move on to the next building, and the family would be in shock at how many credits Taeli had actually left.
 
Objective: Suppress lightside cults
Allies: [member="Matsu Xiangu"] |[member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] |[member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Sage Bane"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=czW0O_ZvAWw&spfreload=1

He felt that presence like the beat of a sun against bared chest, burning and pleasant and constantly turning over on itself. He couldn't see Matsu, not yet, but he could sense the magic that defined her prowess and could see the artifact of her powers - the man dropped was thrown once more and caught in the outstretched hand of the Wrath. "Still alive are we?" He laughed through the cognition hood and flung the choking man upwards. Nuhl turned up and released a jet of gelatinous fire, consuming the man, with nothing but the ash of his remains raining down upon ground below. Gabriel sent one last message to the insect, the direction of the Yorik-Trema and the order to land, before pulling the hood off and flinging himself from the beast towards the ground below. A concern of fire overruled his desire to continue with his current trajectory, opting for a mostly melee approach.

As he landed, he rolled forward to come to a crouch just near Vrag. From outstretched hands, shimmer of red and orange ignited in tandem as he brandished his preferred weapons of choice. A lightsaber and a vong saber, prepared to cut through the flesh and bone alike. And there was plenty for him to share with Ygdris, if he could avoid the spray of her flamethrower. And with that, he charged forward.

A lunge and thrust, orange saber cut through a man as Gabriel twisted outward, turning his body into a pez machine filled with spurting gore quickly overcoming the weak cauterization of the wound. Roecnar found itself hammering out from the Wrath's hand, tossed with the assist of telekinesis, as it cut through three cultists with a twirl on all three axis. Anchoring himself downward, another charged and he upper cutted, splitting the assailant from root to tip. The two sides fell away from each other as the metal lightsaber landed back in outstretched left hand. Kicking parts of flesh upwards, he blinded another attacker before spinning and taking his head off with the flash of orange, the red held out in reverse to lop off attacking arm of another. The wounded man fell to the ground, clutching stump, as Gabriel gazed upon the figure through chitin helmet.

With a simple gesture and down ward arch of Roecnar, he ended the man with maximum pain, as he struggled for life to the very end. Gaze shifted upwards and away from the breathing corpse, towards what remained of the enemy. It would be a good day, he decided.
 
OBJECTIVE: Suppress Lightside cults.
[member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Reverance"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Darell Irani"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"]

To anyone looking on, Matsu would look completely unfazed by the sight of her apprentice slicing in to his arm. In fact she would look as if she felt nothing at all, breathing slow, face lacking any expression as blood welled and ran in criss-crossing tributaries down his pale skin – though her gaze never left him, the only mark of intensity she let show. She could feel two halves of his mind, the one crying out in agony and the other possessed by the knowledge that this must be done. In her eagerness to share his journey she let her illusion drop, the lava far afield sucking in to the earth and dragging its ghostly suffering along with it.

Her head turned almost imperceptibly when the woman moved closer and urged her apprentice to realize what he was doing, a movement that left her looking at the trespasser only from the corner of her eyes. The Commander had been careful to avoid being overhead, but Matsu was in Sage’s head, heard every word she’d intended only for him. A breath went by, a blink, the Beast watching this woman over the sound of her apprentice’s screaming before she decided to speak. “Unless you would like to join him, I would suggest you return to your troops, Commander.”

Leaving the woman with the decision, she turned her attention back to Sage. By now her memory had almost run its course. She had fallen over on her back in the snow, the mountains of Skye soaring overhead, snow falling in light flakes under a clear blue sky. She’d watched her blood leech out in to the snow in an ever-increasing circle, a ghastly halo for a demon. Her arm had been just beside her. Back then she couldn’t bear to look at it. But that little girl had died in the shadow of a mountain, a brilliant supernova of pain and betrayal that birthed a black hole – a woman that lost her other arm and kept on fighting, leaving the appendage to sink to the bottom of Manaan’s oceans without a second thought. His arm was on the ground, a sight that meshed with her memory for a brief moment before she ignited her lightsaber, gripping his shoulder with one metal hand to keep him still and bestowing one final searing pain as she sealed his wound.

She had the power to ease this pain for him, to numb his mind while his body writhed, but she offered no such mercy. This moment was everything he’d worked for and she would steal none of his glory. She held him up, an arm across his chest, forehead pressed to the side of his skull as she murmured to him. “This life is suffering Sage – you know this better than most.” Her fingers dug in to his back, reveling in his agony. “But will you let your suffering control you? This pain is the most powerful gift I can give you. This pain is rebirth. Who you’ve been, all you despise, can die right on this field.”

Through their connection, she passed knowledge of Qâzoi Kyantuska. Mind control at its most powerful, he could subdue the independent thought of anyone he could bend to his will.

She let him go, to fall or to fight.

Turning back to the field, she built another illusion – this time of Vong encircling opposite of the way they were truly approaching, once more boxing in the cultists for slaughter. In their panic even those too weak fought back, grappling with creature and Sith alike to save their skins.
 

Vrag

The Second Seal, broken.
Objective: Suppress lightside cults & have fun
Allies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Darell Irani"]
________________________________________________________________________
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKQTWq6ZbTc


The perversion of flesh towered above them, wrought by Matsu and her apprentice — how she pitied the poor boy, to tread upon those fiery fields uncharted —but in the corner of her eye she could see it crumbling. Papier-mâché. Hah. Bits of wet, mangled meat kept falling off, smacking against the alive and the dead below, indiscriminate in their randomness. Perhaps the Force — that beautiful, unbiased thing — had willed it so, or perhaps it was simply how things tend to fall to the earth if they find themselves no longer suspended mid-air. Physics, it was called. Or something like that, at least.

Vrag didn't really care either way.

There was a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the liquid fire she was dousing the enemy in, and soon she found out what made her wretched little heart skip in her chest. She would know him even amid a horde of oncoming Vong, would recognize that brutal grace as he cut down cultist after cultist no matter the time or the place.

"Rev," she greeted, grin evident in her voice as the cleaved into the enemies with newfound zeal. Her previous, fickle companion forgotten, the Knight fell into the familiar rhythm alongside the Wrath. Together they danced across the blood-soaked battlefield like two well-versed partners, dealing out death everywhere they went in figures that would seem complicated to the lay eye. An experienced warrior would recognize the economy, the sheer simplicity of the kill the two employed, however, covering each other as they snuffed life after life.

They would do what they did best; dictate and keep the pace of the fight as they pushed what was left of the crazed worshipers further and further back, into the waiting jaws of the Yuuzhan Vong. It would be no small feat to clean the Vonduun after they were done, but for now the Hand elected to enjoy the spray of red against her armor, the sizzling of meat as she swung her lightsaber.



Speak of the Devil, and she shall appear.
 
Objective: Supress lightside remnants
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Reverance"]


Tmoxin heard the order and realized two things. This woman was her superior, a powerful Sith Lord. It would be extremely dangerous to cross her and assuredly fatal to disobey. Second, the man who she stood beside was the Lord’s acolyte. Commander Temi tried to conceal her anger but it was visible in her tightened jaw and by her slightly wrinkled nose. She quickly gave the Sith Lord a swift Imperial salute and said, “As you wish, my Lord.” This was her first faux pas on the battlefield today and she vowed to be more careful. In her head she blanketed herself with insults as she could not take her fury out on someone else which is what normally made her feel better.

Commander Temi skulked back over to her troops and took out the electrobinoculars again if only to appear distracted, but with almost a voyeuristic interest, she watched everything going on behind her between the Lord and her tortured student. She cringed inwardly when she heard the sizzle of her saber as it cauterized the wound he had inflicted on himself. To distract herself, the Commander leaned over to examine a holomap of the battlefield which had been quickly drawn up on the fly by one of her trooper tacticians but it was a charade as she found herself still eavesdropping on Master and Acolyte.

Thankfully one of her troopers came over and hailed her attention. She tore away from the gruesome scene and asked, “What is it?”

“Commander Temi, the Blood Monarchs have arrived.”
 
Objective: Suppress lightside cultists
[member="Reverance"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Vrag"]

Racked with the most outrageous pain imaginable and screaming like a banshee, Sage sawed through his arm with such determination, that a sadistic satisfaction shuddered through him. As he sunk the vibroblade deeply into his own flesh, the severed nerves painfully retracted back into the muscles, slick with the blood from each artery he struck. Sage let out a sharp grunt as he pushed the knife through both bone and marrow. There was a wet popping sound and in a few long minutes, the arm swung, halfway severed, barely tethered to his shoulder. He could feel Matsu’s intimate presence, drawing pleasure from his pain. He was vaguely aware of another calling to him, touching him even. But even if he heard Tmoxin Temi's well-meaning pleas, there would be no stopping. He was a man possessed.

With no anesthesia, every raw nerve-ending sang out in a wailing dirge of agony. Sage's arm was still engulfed in Matsu’s flames, adding to the anguish. It wouldn’t stop until he was done. This much he knew. Finally, with one last triumphant slice, the arm fell to the ground, painting the snow red. There was snow falling around him, coating the sky in white, and the world was suddenly beautiful despite the undertones of lingering pain and betrayal, like frozen bodies underneath the powdery white blanket. The flames were gone, but there was a faint burning smell and a cold metal grip on his flesh as his wound was cauterized by his Master’s lightsaber.

His vision decayed into inky blackness as he gave into into the siren’s call of unconscious oblivion. Matsu’s claws sank into the small of his back, shocking him awake. Her murmur in his ear was a remembered promise. It was both the catch, and the gift from their very first meeting. He was losing an arm, but gaining his dark feathery wings.

Sage’s eyes turned milky white as the knowledge of the ancient mind control powers of the Qâzoi Kyantuska poured into his brain, a maddening surge that nearly broke his mind. Then as tightly as Matsu had held him, she forcefully released him. By sheer will, Sage kept his footing on the Ashera ground. Then, through sweat and gritted teeth, her Acolyte joined her in their dreamspace and began to add to the illusions, letting his still throbbing stump fuel the wave of abject terror he sent towards the cultists. The terror took on a form, manifesting as a sticky, oozing quicksand of blood and necrotic pus, bubbling out of the ground. The cultists would feel themselves pulled down into it, their noses, mouths, and lungs choked with its fetid soup. The more weak-minded ones would drown. The stronger ones would flail around helplessly until cleaved in two by the Vong.
 

Darth Timoris

To err is human, to forgive divine. And I'm no god
Melori was progressing in her training but she still found it difficult to work with others. Perhaps it was her background - where she'd always felt an outsider at the Corellian Academy, and so kept herself to herself. Or maybe it was her sister and Master's advice to keep a low-profile due to her parentage, but either way she headed for Ashera alone.

She knew many were looking for Light-sided cults and given her background, it was something she too chose to do. But her research had dug up a name - the Cult of Those Who Redeem. An odd band of individuals that actually worshipped the Jedi and their Code. Displaced from their planet of origin, sects had formed on many planets and according to reports, once was flourishing on Ashera. Their goals were pitiful - to preserve peace and to protect the weak. Peace was a lie and the weak deserved to die - it was that simple to Melori.

So she headed down on a shuttle - this time with a handful of troopers at her disposal - to see if the rumours were true - but more importantly how she'd fare directing others. She'd never had the responsibility before and viewed the opportunity with a combination of excitement and dread. Not that she cared if they lived or died of course - if they were worthy they'd endure - but she was more concerned that her progress would be shared with others, so she decided to insist they turned their helmet-cams off at the first opportunity.
 
Objective: Sith Dominance
Allies: [member="Tain Organa"] [member="Darth Arcanix"]

Inside the temple Ferus would cast a glance about. There goal was close, but they were surrounded by enemy honor guard. For now the stoic and heavily armed men kept still, but once he and the rest of the assassins got on the move.. A faint twitch of a smile formed on the red mans lips. He was rather looking forward to what would be a blood bath. But for now..

"As you can see uh.." The greeter had gone off on his own, speaking as the Zabrak didn't bother to listen. But now there was a question for the Sith Lord, at least it was only a name. Without seeing a reason to lie Krest spoke up, letting his gaze settle upon the small man. "Darth Ferus, if you will. Commander of the forward march."

"I uh.. Yes. Darth Ferus. I.. What brings you here again?" It seemed as reports of fighting across the planet began to pour in the man was getting nervous. Couldn't exactly blame him.

"Talk of peace, of course." A lie, but a good one. Without anymore talk the red man was lead into the inner chamber, the very chamber in which the highest class of the species waited. There seemed to have been a war council, but it stopped dead as the Sith Lord walked in.

"Who dares enter this cha-" A female, seeming to be the high queen, had begun to speak. But she was cut off rather abruptly as Ferus lifted a single hand. Holding her in that famous Force Choke he would begin to tear the life away from her. At this very moment however, the assassins in their white Sith Trooper armor sprung forward. Wielding the very blasters they carried or pulling out sabers they carried in a similar way to Tain, they began to kill off the hierarchy.

All the while the room was sealed tight, leaving all of the honor guard just outside the doors, unable to open as two of the Assassins barred the door shut. Once the killing would be done, they would all leave. But only once they were finished. A sickening grin formed over the face of the Sith as he crushed the throat of the high queen. He would not do much in this stance. This was for his assassins to prove.
 
Objective: SIth Dominance
Allies: [member="Darth Ferus"] | [member="Darth Arcanix"]

Tain grinned fiercely behind the mask of his trooper helmet. He tore his twin sabers from the body of the rifle and used the force to throw it into the midsection of the dignitary in front of him. As the rest of the killing started throughout the room, dignitaries rushed at Tain and his assassin brother as they stood before the barred door. Tain held his saber hilts in either hand, his left hand one pointed down and the right one pointed up. He took a step back, placed his foot on the barred door and pushed off, using the force to amplify his push off. He flew into the air, flipped over once and landed in the midst of a group of seven dignitaries. As he landed, he lit off his sabers and spun in a circle, bringing his left hand from its position tucked in the small of his back around to the front, carving through the three dignitaries on the left. He took off the first ones leg, the second one got cut through the chest and the third ones head flew away. His right hand swept from forehead high and went down and around until it was where his left hand had been. In the process, the four on his right received similar damage to the previous three.

In a moment, all seven were down, three were still alive, but were merely struggling on the ground as they couldn't stand anymore. Tain stepped back to the door and continued to move his saber blades in sinuous movements. Dignitaries started backing away from him and his brother, running into the ones who were running towards the door away from the other assassins moving through the room. This caused several of them to fall, directly atop the dead and dying from Tains first assault. Tain strode forward again and cut through the legs of several more dignitaries until there was a veritable wall that others had to climb over to get to the door. Tain resumed his position at the door, his duty was to make sure no one could unbar it, so he only took a few steps away to continue to kill and sew chaos. He let the rest of his brothers and sisters have the majority of the kills.
 
Objective: Supress lightside remnants
[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Darell Irani"] [member="Reverance"]

"...the Blood Monarchs have arrived.”

Commander Temi turned around to inspect her new platoon, The Blood Monarchs. As the thirty-two soldiers marched up in formation, a pleasant shiver went through her body at such a perfect display of uniformity and exactness. Nary a smudge or a blemish could be seen on their polished white armor. They held their blasters in taut hands, ready to fire when given the signal.

It was clear at least to her that the Sith were quickly gaining the upper hand on the cultists so she thought it would be good practice for The Monarchs to enter the fray and work in their respective teams. Since she had no Lieutenant or Major recruited yet she would have to play both tactician and commandant, rather than delegate the plans to her second in command. The platoon stood with backs straight awaiting her strict orders or even a slight whim from the determined Commander. After a pause, Tmoxin shouted to be heard over the cacophony of blaster fire, screaming and explosions in the background.

"Home One, join the tacticians already here." She pointed to the mobile comms station which had been set up prior. Holomaps were up of the location besides them with tacticians, pointing at various locations and making judgment calls. Tmoxin had been studying the battlefield for awhile so it didn't take much consulting with Home One to make the squad assignations.
"Squad One and Two," I want you to enter the battlefield from the Northern side as that's where the cultists are the weakest. You should be able to flank and finish them. Monarchs, you will be reinforcements for the troops already on the front line. Home One, send in two medics to see if we can pull back and treat any wounded."

Tmoxin, the appraising judge of her soldiers, clasped her hands behind her back and watched the stormtroopers march-run into the battlefield. She looked primarily for signs of mistakes or clumsiness that she would correct later with unrelenting drills and war games.
 

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