First Reply Chiss Kiss

[Darth Osom]

Location: Unidentified Planet

The Clone Wars had marked this place. All on the surface was relics of AT-Et, Spider Droids, and broken wheels of Hellfire droids which once launched missiles as purple as planet itself. Dark Lady Osom in her shuttle sat in Dark Lotus, her hands in fists rather than open palms as she levitated in her chamber and focused her hate. The dark side had drawn her to this ‘insignificant’ location, as she stalked the Force as her prey it had brought her to places beyond imagning.

The planet was mountainous and covered in the scars of wars so long ago that it seemed as dead as Korriban, and that was the reason she was here. Why was a great battle fought long ago between the Republic and Sepratists on a planet if it had no purpose? What secrets was it hiding?

The terrain was very rocky, and hanging in atmosphere was vapors that gave off a lavander color with greens and yellows. Setting her shuttle down in a clearing, she lowering the ramp, began to descend in her Heavy Armor and Leather. Her scans had determined it was breathable, and as she walked, she found her boots stepping on debris from Sepratist Driods. All about strewn was graveyard of vessels, even a fallen Republic Destroyer which she did ascend to get a view of the area. The planet was eerily silent, her lightsaber hilt dangling from her belt and she spread out her hands, and began to caste bolts of lightning most luminous, the bolts of purple and white striking several concealed sentries in the graveyard, the Battle Droids convulsing as she now filling thier circuits made thme explode. Some more bolts began to fire, from the other side, and suddenly scaling up the Republic Ship was Droids, some with no legs crawling, she lit her Cobalt blade that almost was purple, and began to spin it with both hands to redirect bolts, and cut at the Necro Droids that somehow were still broadcasting a viable signal. She leapt on top on one’s head, and freeing a hand casting bolts into a dozen of them making thme fall, she looking around on the hills of old technology, when she saw in the Mountain in distance, a crescent shape ship stuck in it, lit up. A Droid Contorl Ship.

She cut at the Droids pawing at her legs, and said,
“Get off clankers! Only flesh touches my flesh!”
She began to hiking through the Graveyard of Clone Wars vessels, when she heard a strange hum and then dropping as wheels went over and it turning, a Hellfire Droid still active, its purple glowing missiles made ready, she began to sprint, but her armor was holding her back, it making a turn and firing missiles, one she caught with invisible hand of the Force, redirecting it into a Cargo Ship that burst into a great orange ball of flame and smoke, bolts began to fall from a ridge on her he as the Darth shouting,
“I hate droids!”

She leapt out of the Wheeler Droid’s path as it almost caught her leg, and grabbing with her hand of the Great Mystery, she plucked a missile off and directing it, sent it flying up at ridge where sniper droid was firing down on her, it engulfing in fire. Osom began to pant heavily, when sudenly she found she was in the circle of a thruster that was begining to burn bright white and blue, she leapt out of furnace as it shoot up in flame. She landing back on dirt trail, running beneath wheels of felled hellfires, and the wings of Gunships. This place was a mosleum of a war that had long ago ended, and yet everything was fighting as if the Clone Wars was still raging. This either meant somehow the Control Ship was independent of the ones shut down by Lord Vader after the death of the Viceroy Gunray, or this particular one was reactivated by someone or something.. more questions thna answers was the usual for this Chiss, who would plant a kiss on the steel head of this ship before blowing it sky high…

 

[Darth Keres]

​

[]

Via Dolorosa - Tiamat
​

Location: Unknown Planet
Tag: Darth Osom


The Taciturnitas pierced the violet firmament like a blade of shadow, its hull swallowing what little light the swollen, amethyst clouds dared to offer. As its engines fell to a funereal hush, the landing struts bit into black stone veined with faintly glowing crystal, and the ramp descended with a groan that echoed across the mountains like a dirge.

Darth Keres emerged first, her presence bending the air around her, followed in perfect silence by four of her Silencers, indistinct figures whose armor drank in the planet's unnatural hues. They paused at the threshold, gazing out upon serrated peaks that clawed upward through drifting purple mist, the land itself seeming old, watchful, and unwelcoming to anything that breathed.

Darth Keres stepped onto the alien soil and felt it immediately: a pressure in the Force, thick and resonant, as though the planet's heart beat in time with some forgotten malice. The darkness here was not shrill or violent, but deep and contemplative, coiling around her senses like a lover's whisper promising secrets best left buried. It stirred something within her that felt both familiar and intoxicating, a haunting allure that made the mountains seem less like obstacles and more like altars.

Behind her, the Silencers stood unmoving, awaiting command, while Darth Keres closed her eyes for a moment; listening, tasting the abyss and smiled, for this world's shadow welcomed her as one of its own.

The mountains received them in silence, their jagged spines rising like the ribs of some colossal corpse entombed beneath violet fog. Darth Keres advanced at the fore, her cloak whispering over blackened gravel, while her Silencers followed in measured intervals, their presence a procession of living shadows threading between cliffs and knife-edged ridges. Pale crystals embedded in the rock pulsed faintly as they passed, as if the land itself stirred at her approach, watching through a thousand half-blind eyes. Each step carried them deeper into a region untouched by banner or creed, where even the wind seemed reluctant to disturb the ancient stillness.

As they moved, she spoke without turning, her voice calm and reverent, as though delivering a sermon to the mountains themselves. She praised the exquisite purity of an unmolested world, unmarred by the clumsy fingerprints of civilization, its history unwritten and therefore obedient. Such planets, she told her Silencers, were delights beyond conquest, for they did not need to be broken; only guided, shaped, and claimed by will alone.

Her left hand lifted slightly, fingers curling as if already cradling something fragile and immense, and she mused that this world's past and future alike might one day rest within her palm. The Silencers listened in silence, understanding that they walked not merely through stone and shadow, but through the opening lines of a history Darth Keres fully intended to author in blood and darkness.

"Come, my children," Darth Keres murmured, her voice a cold, icy sickle slicing through the cold air, "let us reap the benefits of this infant planet while it still dreams itself innocent." Her gaze lingered upon the darkened peaks as she smiled faintly, savoring the promise of a world that did not yet know it was about to be claimed.

​

Spoiler: Gear Loadout

• Melee Weapons​
  • XIII​
• Armor​
  • Robe​
• Accessories​
  • k​
• Ship​
  • Taciturnitas​
• Personal Guards​
  • Silencers​

 

[Darth Osom]

TAG: Darth Keres

The onslaught of the Federation was considerable. Dark Lady Orom swinging her humming blade of deep blue and purple through a Droideka, it unable to raise its shield in time to prevent her blade. The dark side had brought her to this crucible, testing to see if she truly had the the strength to learn mastery over it. She began to understand, these droids did not tire, they were singular in their purpose to destroy, and yet she felt her weakness, her breath growing louder and her bosom heaving as she endeavored to withstand this trial. She had not made it far in the Shipgraveyard, the Control Ship beyond her reach yet. What symbolism, she did not have control of the Force as all Sith did intend. She was still walking in the dark, blind and casting bolts in the clouds as she believed she understood The Great Mystery.

Standing with saber drawn she seeing the legions of Droids stirring, making way to her position. This was not a fight she could win, not like this. Exstinguishing her hot blue flame, she then began to reach her arms out and her eyes burning as cauldrons of blood. This chiss callling to the scars in her own soul to conjure the power, bolts began to form from the great clouds ahove, and arching down in great white javilans that fell down on the Droid contigents. When the bolt hit the ground, it creating circles of static and extending out in rings that made the Battle Driods short circuit. The Maelstrome was painful, she let out screams with each bolt that fell as the darkness made her pay for each one and she fell on her knees, clinching her teeth, her blue face angling upward to the sky.

The drain of this storm would have made her collapse, and she felt her mind humming with the caress of sleep, she fought it off with a shriek rising to her feet,
“Nooooooo! I am master of my fate.. I will not fall!”
She dug her hand into her side and pinching with the power of the Force, to shock her system with pain, a pain that made her alertness overcome this frailty.

The Maelstrome had done its work on the approaching legions, when AAT Tanks began to stir and their great barrels began to open fire, the loud thunder of their shots echoing as Osom began evade and make her way through another Gunship and under the shelter of some more felled ship parts, the bolts dropping at her former position, with a crash and shake that made the ground move. She had awoken greater enemies with her display of power, the only question was would she make it to the Control Ship in time to shut them all down before she was cornered. There was something else to, faint, she could not tell what it was, a scent perhaps in midst of all this tempest of tanks and march of mechaniques. She did not ignore it, rather it was the pressure of this lost world of machines that was as if a chamber tormenting her. Every part of this world was hostile to organics, it demanded a pound of flesh, and it would take all her strength to deny the jaws of the Beast.

 

[Darth Keres]

​

[]

Caracas - Scordalus
​

Location: Unknown Planet
Tag: Darth Osom


Darth Keres and her Silencers came upon the scene like carrion drawn to a battlefield not yet dead, halting upon a jagged rise of blackened stone that overlooked the valley below. There, beneath a sky bruised with stormclouds, ranks of droids were being herded into motion by ATTs, the battle droid's mechanical legs sinking into the ashen soil with each ponderous step. The machines moved with mechanical obedience, metal limbs clattering in a rhythm that echoed like distant bones being shaken in a crypt.

Darth Keres felt a cold amusement coil within her as she watched, the Dark Side whispering approval at the sight of so much lifeless force awaiting direction.

From their elevated vantage, the truth revealed itself in unsettling clarity. These were not the sleek constructs of the modern war machine, but relics; scarred, angular droids forged in the crucible of the Clone Wars, their designs unmistakable and archaic, their plating worn like grave-markers of a forgotten age.

Rust bled through old insignias, photoreceptors flickered with imperfect memory, and yet they marched once more, resurrected from obsolescence like corpses denied rest. Darth Keres smiled beneath the shadow of her hood, sensing the irony and rot of history repeating itself, and wondering who had dared to wake these dead soldiers, and whether they truly understood what they had unearthed.

The Mistress of Silence let a low, mirthless chuckle slip from beneath her hood as she addressed her Silencers, her voice steeped in dark satisfaction. "This planet keeps its secrets well: ancient ones, buried and festering, never meant to rise again." With a slow, deliberate gesture, she turned and descended into the valley, her followers moving like living shadows behind her as the legions of droids waited below.

The air thickened as Darth Keres and her Silencers reached the invisible boundary, an unseen threshold where the land itself seemed to recoil between past and present. Beyond it, the relic droids stood now in rigid formation, motionless yet expectant, as though the ghosts of old commands still echoed in their rusted cores.

She paused, her presence bending the silence, and regarded the metal ranks with open disdain. "Darth Tyrannus was a fool," she said coldly, her words cutting sharper than any rusty blade, "to place faith in such technology. To believe rust and code could replace will, fear, and devotion."

With a hiss like a dying spirit, she ignited her ghostly blade, white plasma blooming into the air and screaming softly with trapped echoes of the damned. The Silencers, igniting their crimson blades, followed without hesitation as she crossed the boundary, shadows plunging into a graveyard of moving steel. Darth Keres advanced at their head, wrath incarnate, intent on granting the past the mercy it had long been denied: obliteration, and final rest.

Spoiler: Gear Loadout

• Melee Weapons​
  • XIII​
• Armor​
  • Robe​
• Accessories​
  • k​
• Ship​
  • Taciturnitas​
• Personal Guards​
  • Silencers​

 

[Darth Osom]

TAG: Darth Keres

The Desolator left her mark as she swept her cobalt blade through the ranks of droids that were popping up as if form assembly line. He black hood of heavy leather keeping her head drew of the fluids of oil spurting from these machines as she cut them apart and was making her way in throng of legion towars the Control Ship that protruded as crescent moon in the distance. Dark Lardy Osom had a cadence of breaths with each swing and thrust, cutting down another clanker that was demanding with its barrels to bury her on this world. Bolts of red were lighting up dark felled vessels of Seperatist and Republic grave ships around. She spining her blade as if in storm, releasing bolts ofl ightning to making ripples flow out from her that made the mechaniques fall as they became white hot and then cold.

The Chiss was sharpening her rage as she swept with her hand and burning kyber, sending into air dozens of droids, their oval heads thrown back as switches, and their frames crashing upon the rocky ground as if hammer to anvil. A Destroy Droid came rolling towards her with ardor, and she leapt on to it, using it as wheel as she held her blade out and cut through neck and torso of Battle Droids hat were about, leaving a line of circuits and scrap metal. The Driodeka dropping to lower its tripod legs, Osom driving her hot tip into its neck line nad tearing it off as the shield generator was beginning to activate like a bubble and then falling like flower pedals of ribbling clear light. She was then confronted with more luminous chrome, taller droids who extending their arms began to fire twin barrels, she spinning her blade to meet the bolts, which began to redirect the bolts out. The Supers were in a stupor, they moving as if walls of iron to inclose around her, when she firing some bolts found that they bounced off their steel hides, making her having to do surgery with her saber at their neckless heads. With some strokes she cut a trunk of metallic torso off one Super Battle Driod, and held it with her left arm through the empty arm sockets as a shield, and began to deflect the bolts flying at her, and using her saber to cut into a fresh chrome chest. The closer she drew to the Control Ship, the bigger, more menancing, and more challenging the resistance became, when she saw a contingent of Battle Droids with rose color armor, and great packs on their Backs. They held great long barreled weapons with lines attached to the pack, and the muzzles began to burn bright with the orange light of flame as she began to unleash flames at her, using the Supers as walking shields to protect them. She was now in a living furnace of machinery, the question was, would she make it out of this inferno or succumb to the dark side’s testing flames?

 

[Darth Keres]

​

[]

Caracas - Scordalus
​

Location: Unknown Planet
Tag: Darth Osom

Beneath a sky bruised purple and black, Darth Keres descended upon the first ranks of the droid army like a blight given flesh, her presence curdling the air and choking the light from it. Her children, the Silencers, followed in funereal silence, their armor drunk in the gloom as if eager to be forgotten by the world itself. The droids, birthed for war yet blind to dread, registered the assault too late; metal skulls torn apart by blades that screamed like damned souls, chassis crushed as though gripped by an unseen god.

The Wraith of Erasure moved among them with sacramental violence, each strike precise and merciless, her white blade carving sigils of ruin through ranks that had never known fear until it bloomed, too late, in their dying processors.

The second stage fared no better, roused from false security into a nightmare without form or warning. Shadows lunged where no enemy should have been, and the Silencers dismantled the war machines with ritual efficiency: severing limbs, shattering cores, erasing command units before alarms could finish screaming their birth.

Darth Keres stood at the heart of the slaughter, a dark sovereign amid a rain of sparks and burning oil, her will pressing down like a coffin lid upon the battlefield. By the time the echoes faded, nothing remained of the first two stages but smoldering wreckage and the uncanny stillness of eradication, as if the army had never existed at all; only a sin briefly committed against the dark and swiftly absolved in annihilation.

Amid the charnel hush of broken droids and cooling slag, Darth Keres paused, her senses unfurling like blackened wings into the void beyond the battlefield. There, beneath layers of smoke and ruin, she felt it; a presence gnawing at the Force, sharp and diseased, unmistakably Sith. It was weaker than her own dominion, a lesser predator feeding on the same corpse-strewn feast, yet no less foul for its hunger. The sensation crawled along her spine like a grave-worm, stirring both contempt and grim amusement, for even at a distance she could taste the other's ambition bleeding into the chaos of war.

Her lip curled as she turned her gaze toward the unseen front where that shadow waged its private slaughter, and her voice slipped into the air like a curse spoken to the dead. "Sith are like leeches," Darth Keres murmured, the words heavy with ancient venom, "always drawn to conflict, always feeding where the blood is already warm."

The Force shuddered faintly at her disdain, as though the darkness itself acknowledged the truth of her claim. Yet she did not move to intervene, predators, after all, were best observed before they were culled, and war had a way of revealing which leeches were worth crushing beneath the heel.

Spoiler: Gear Loadout

• Melee Weapons​
  • XIII​
• Armor​
  • Robe​
• Accessories​
  • k​
• Ship​
  • Taciturnitas​
• Personal Guards​
  • Silencers​