Claim the Beast [OS Dominion of Onderon]

[Vrag]

NEGOTIATIONS: 7

Vrag taps a single finger against the chitin plate covering her thigh, giving the goal a moment of thought. Onderon served as the capital of the Republic for a number of years, and dismissing it altogether would be foolish.

"We'll comb through it before demolishing the eyesore," she concedes, meeting the jade gaze again.

~​

Just as well, the remaining portion of Beastia's chair back has disintegrated into black sand. With a lofted brow she looks down at the stool she now sits upon and sighs. A shrugging nod is offered in response. She'd waited over seven years to tear that place down, she could wait a few hours more.

~​

Vrag gives the pile of black sand on the floor a lingering glance before speaking again.

"Anything else you'd like to request?"

"Because if not... I've a request of my own, Beastia."

~​

The Beastia places her hands on her thighs, idly nudging the black sand away with her feet, If you happen to find the Princess and intend to destroy her throne I will take the girl off your hands. I am loathe to go back on my word and promises were made years ago... a vague, curious glance is settled on Vrag, jade eyes faintly narrowed, yes?

~​

At that, the warrior slowly rises out of her chair, the difference in size made even more prominent as she takes a singular step forward. There is no threat to the motion, though it radiates intent.

"I conquer worlds," the statement is simple, much like one would claim the sky to be blue.

"When I cannot conquer worlds, I have to make do..." she speaks, and then lets words trail off into thoughts, for they will forever be more expressive than the medium of speech.

She is a Hand, after all, not a Voice.

~​

The Beastia does not look displeased but there is a moment of ...intrigue? The intent was decidedly not missed. Her gaze travels up and down the woman once more and while her own posture is calm there is a certain intensity to her figure that spoke of a readiness to move. Immediately.

I make no promises of your success.

Neither did the Republic... and here we are.

Your move.

 

[Reverance]

Objective: I do what I want
Location: Iziz
Allies: [member="Lucas Gravois"]| [member="Tirdarius"]
Enemies: [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
Post 2/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pc81Eim_DFU​

He held up his hand, trying to cease the conversation for the action he desired. [member="Tirdarius"] was well spoken, silver tongue moving about lavishly, but he neared the edge of putting the Sith Lord to sleep as he stood. "Fine fine fine!" He shook his head shallowly and bared his teeth, equipped with a devilish smile. "You had me at his body can join that of his victims." He looked towards the man, his grey eyes intent on backing up his words with conviction, well met in tandem. Looking towards [member="Lucas Gravois"] doing whatever it was with the green woman, he cracked his head and ushered out a force push, from his non vong hand, hard enough to kick him from whatever he was doing, if not lift him from ground and send him sprawling. His focus should have been on the Sith Lords from the beginning. But for the life of him, it hadn't offended Reverance until this moment. "My Lord, punish him as you dictate...I'll watch." He would have someone's blood today and if it had to be from this man, who showed reckless abandon for his own life by breaking rank, then so be it.

Turning his head to the green woman, his eye bared down with an aggravated stare, pregnant with entertainment. "Yes, by all means girl, stay." His eye ticked as he looked upon her, searching, and found nothing of true interest. "Run..." He paused. "...and you will be flayed." His mind drifted to the macabre, her body hanging from the rafters for the defiance. He liked that thought.

[member="Vrag"] was busy doing some form of negotiations, though he was not privy to the contents of that meeting. He thought for a moment that she might envy this situation, the strife brought about by actions and their conflict with the word spoken from the heavens. Well here was his own, snapping head towards [member="Tirdarius"]. "Such is the order of the Wrath."

Wouldn't someone play with him? He was hungry and he was happy to entertain. Reebas now in Voxyn hand, it lit with a burning hatred to match his own, the twin blade to Roecnar. Taken from him on that fateful day. "Unless you'd question my word as well."

 

[Corey's OOC]

Objective: Probably murder stuff, perform a back alley abortion, murder other things, dance in blood, get beat up by one or two Sith, a grenade and probably start burning things down
Post: Something like three, I wanna say, maybe four.
Enemies: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
Location: A future mass burial grave left to rot

See? This was the issue with Sith today, all talk, and no violence. This was a Jedi their sworn enemy and the reason the Sith were taking the Republic apart world by world. A Cold War was basically throwing the entire validity of the Sith out the window, and calling them just another crazed warlord with daddy issues.

Weak.

Sorry that your father never tucked you in at night, Sith. Or that you don’t even remember what they look like, yet you still need his approval. That was what the One Sith was, to Lucas. Lost little orphans who needed to be lead by the hand, and this “Lord” was just as bad as the rest. Needing to be lead around like a battered dog.

No, he had a Jedi in his sights, and he was not fething able to separate the signatures. It didn’t matter. The Jedi were here, and they were weakening the galaxy as they breathed. That was when the enemy was hitting him, so there was a Sith that had some fight in him. Good. Tumbling, Lucas was thrown to the ground, skidding on his side. Anger sparking in him again. He looked up at the Sith, his time would come. Before the Jedi could flee Lucas reached out with the Force, to lash around the Jedi and pull her towards him, activating his blade, as he got to his feet, slowly.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Objective: I do what I want, Gah
Location: Rooftop in Iziz
Prey: [member="Reverance"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
Gear:

• Mun'Beviin Anti-Material Rifle | Equipped with Rifle Silencer | AC-RCO Rounds | Jacketed Cortosis Rounds
• ASC-101 Pistols | Ori'shuk Rounds
• Taozin Amulet
• The Rest is in Signature

1/20

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvPABzciBfk​

I yawned scanning the people below. There wasn't really anyone worth hunting in that pack of civilians. Too bad. I was bored out of my mind sitting on the former Republic Capital. Oddly enough, I had never been here during my time with the Republic, but had been here twice now that I was allied with the Sith. I had to move across the rooftops slowly or the active camouflage wouldn't work as well and would reveal my outline to attentive folks. Wearing a Taozin amulet and focusing on concealing my presence I slipped into a nice place. I had about a kilometer long killing lane that included a pretty healthy sized street and ended in the city square. Perfect. Someone worth hunting would be around in there.

Taking a seat and bracing the massive weapon on the roof I sat and lined up the rifle, taking care to be quiet and deliberate. Looking through the scope I could see there was some commotion going on out there at the end of my killing lane, in the square. It looked like the Sith had decided to do some public executions. KILL MAIM BURN seemed back on the menu. Zambrano must be around and his insatiable appetite for wanton destruction must be rubbing off on others.

Observing the scene through the scope I zoomed in a bit to see what all was going on. My boy, [member="Reverance"] seemed to be having a conversation with a pair of dudes and a smoking hot Mirialan chick. Good for them, oh, no... never mind. They were in a stand off with the Mirialan chick... bad for her. I chambered the first round, a nice thirteen millimeter jacketed Cortosis round and let the cross hairs fall on to each being and studied them, finger off the trigger just to be safe. If things got interesting I would back someone... maybe. It would be a nice medal to pin on my vest to bag the Wrath of the Dark Lord, then again, it would probably not bode well for my relationship with them. Oh well decisions to be made later.

Drama... it was unfolding... maybe spice things up...

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Objective: 2 - Evacuate the University and watch the impending destruction.
Location: The Galactic Republic University of Onderon.
Allies: The One Sith
Enemies: Everyone else
Post: [4/20]

Under Konrad’s orders the Great Tower was completely evacuated save for the president who Konrad dragged by his hair.

“Run faster or do you need some encouragement?” Konrad called to the fleeing staff and students, annoyed. They were fleeing for their lives, not running for a bus.
“Too slow. Open fire.” Konrad ordered his men, impatient. Perhaps witnessing their peers get shot would encourage them to run faster.

Pew, pew, pew.

The soldiers fired at the fleeing staff and students.

“Faster!” Konrad yelled.

Instead of speeding up, some fell, hit by blaster fire and started to crawl. Opening fire would have been more effective if Konrad’s soldiers had the accuracy of Stormtroopers during Darth Vader’s time.

Collateral damage. Konrad thought while he watched the injured struggle to escape.

“Enjoy what you see, president?” Konrad quired.

“Why are you doing this? We’re just scholars and civilians, we can’t match your soldiers in a fight.” The president was disgusted.

“I simply do not like those associated with the Republic – vermin of the universe.” Konrad chuckled. “Let’s go men, it seems like company has arrived.” Konrad ordered as another Sith army arrive at the university.

Once Konrad and his men were just outside the campus, he had the president stand next to him.

“Watch, or I will cut your eyelids off.” Konrad growled at the man.

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Post 4/20
Objective: Stop the killing of civilians
Location: Iziz
Others in proximity: [member="Lucas Gravois"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Reverance"]

An ultimatum from one, blatant disregard from the other. The first is to be expected, but the second is intolerable. All Sith were taught from their first day of training that the key to their survival hinged upon obedience: to their training, to their Masters and, most importantly of all, to the rule of the Sith. Otherwise all would truly descend into chaos and madness, every being for themselves. How can we rule when we cannot ourselves obey those who lead us?

It was a simple enough principle, but one this boy had failed to learn, and a gap in the boy’s education that clearly needed to be filled, such a lesson taught through the traditional methods of pain and suffering. For only then is the lesson bought and paid for, rather than granted as a gift. For one Lord to challenge another was a simple thing – what were they, but extensions of the will of the Dark Lord? It was for them to decide how best to serve, how best to empower the Sith. But this boy…he had not earned the right to challenge those decisions, and it was time he was put in his place.

Tirdarius strode now towards the boy, his black-hilted lightsaber activating with a loud snap-hiss, a dark-blue bar of energy bursting forth, extending out to a meter in length, a soft hum droning as counterpart to the others that had been drawn by the Jedi and the Acolyte. He held the weapon in his right hand, gripped tightly along the cylinder, the pommel resting in against his wrist. His left hand raised, a trickle of energy there rapidly becoming a flood as he gathered the Force and channelled it from shoulder to wrist to fingertips, bursting forth from his hands as a brilliant burst of blue-white electrical energy, firing across the gap between himself and the Acolyte, the opening salvo of a lesson much needed.

”Who are you to gainsay the Sith, boy?”, he asked, brows contracting in a scowl, his expression darker than the robes that fluttered around him as he walked, now placing himself between the Jedi girl and the insolent Acolyte. He felt the tug of energy that sought to draw him towards the boy, but this was dismissed with the casual disdain of long-practiced use. ”Who are you to imagine you can challenge us and walk away without consequence?,” the Sith Lord continued, unleashing a second burst of electricity in the boy’s direction.

It was not a lesson he was often required to teach – those students he had taught in the past had quickly understood that obedience was the key to developing themselves as Sith. He that seeks to rule must first learn to follow. To learn from a being of power required humility: one had to submit to teachings, rather than just agree to them. This one had been taught by someone, but that simple understanding had clearly not filtered through. His aggression, his passions, unleashed, but not restrained by training. Sith were required to harness those emotions, but not to be controlled by them. Now this one would learn.

“This girl is of no consequence to our presence here,” he remarked coldly, continuing to advance on the boy, prepared to take his life if he persisted in his disobedience. Now standing between the Acolyte and his target, Tirdarius knew that the girl could advance, perhaps attack him in turn, but something told him that she wouldn't. Sometimes it pays to trust the Force. And no Jedi worth the name would stab someone in the back that had offered them their life. “She cannot stem the tide here: the Sith have come to Onderon, and we will leave when it submits to our will.”

It was a long habit of the Sith to kill all Jedi they came across – that persistent habitual violence was, perhaps, the biggest downfall. Do you not remember that there is no zealot like a convert? And the Jedi were moral arbiters: beings of conscience and compassion. Perhaps it ran contrary to long tradition, but Tirdarius had always felt that these were qualities the Sith needed: one could not rule effectively if all they did was kill, oppress and dominate. History has taught us that rulers must be fair and respected by those they govern: strong in the face of opposition, but there to protect their people and rule them in a manner that creates order from the chaos. Fear alone was not sufficient. Teach a Jedi that it was their duty to rule, and they would become the kind of Sith that would put those qualities first. Why kill those that may yet serve?

“She lives because her life may yet be of use,” Tirdarius informed the boy, brandishing his lightsaber with menacing intent. Here it was: the true lesson. Among the Sith, that which had purpose was valued. Only things which could not serve was needed: that which could not serve had no place. ”You have value only in your submission. Lower your weapon and submit to orders, or make your peace with this world and prepare to leave it.”

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective 2B: Secure Knowledge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Location: The University[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Post: [1/20][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]By all right it should have been Carach leading the negotiations with the Beastia. Onderon was within his sector. He was the Voice of the Dark Lord and diplomacy was his finest point. But the demise of his sister, [member="Darth Nephthys"] still pressed heavily against his mood. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Was this sadness?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px][member="Vrag"] had known that Carach had cared much for his sister, and so when the offer came to take over his duty for this particular campaign, she had accepted. The Sith Lord was trying not to think about the mess she would probably make of it. Diplomacy was not exactly her finest point. Perhaps in this situation it would be better though, considering the Beastia and her kind were little more than refined animals anyway. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Whilst his sister talked with the leader of the Beast Clans Carach would work on something else. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Something that would keep his mind off of thing. Sorely needed, because it took a lot of the Sith Lord’s willpower not to simply start destroying everything in sight, as a tribute to his lost love. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Instead of that waste his entourage stepped into the University of Onderon. A beautiful piece of architecture to be sure. A whole flood of Royal Guards, droid aides and lesser Sith followed in the wake of the Voice’s steps. They would start collecting everything the University was worth, then level it to the ground. Whilst his men and droids began with the more [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]obvious[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] targets, Carach himself focused on the less obvious ones. It was a good thing he knew how universities operated. It was this knowledge that made him aware that the more valuable research and data would not be found where most people [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]thought[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] it was actually found.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It would be a long day though.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Just what the doctor ordered.[/SIZE]

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: Carpe Palatium
Location: Onderon Royal Palace
Posts: [03/20]

The duracrete walls were four, maybe five feet thick and reinforced with approximately eight hundred tons of hardened durasteel. The vault door itself was magnetized and made out of pure duranium, weighing in at about twenty-two tons. While the preceding maze of doors had electronic combinations and were thus easy for Darth Adekos to crack, this one had a mechanical lock, and an intricate one at that- one he couldn't get a reading on. There weren't enough Mechu-Deru holocrons in the galaxy that could have prepared Adekos to crack open this thing with but a wave of his hand. No, it just had to be a little more difficult than that.

This vault door was currently the only thing between him and the government of Iziz's complete store of gold bullion, among other precious metals.

Luckily, Adekos had a work around. He was good at improvising these things. He shoved the Treasurer forward. "Open it." If the Umbaran Sithling's presence wasn't enough to convince the treasurer to comply on its own, then certainly the five Sentinel Droids hanging around with weapons trained on the peevish man would seal the deal. The treasurer coughed nervously and waddled forward, beginning to fiddle with the abnormally large combination dial. After a few moments, he stopped, but the vault did not click open.

"Well?"

"That's..." The treasurer gulped audibly. "That's all I- I- I, uh... Know. The full combination is d-d-divided up."

Great. Of course this lout had waited until now to reveal that kind of information. "And, pray tell, who has the second part? How many parts are there?"

"F-four. And we-"

"Oh, no, by all means, let me guess: you don't know who has the other combinations?"

The treasurer muttered something nervously, but it was unintelligible. It sounded like a confirmation, so Darth Adekos elected to take it as that. "Fine then. There's not a safe in this galaxy I can't have cracked," He warned, waving for the droids to hold position. Adekos turned on a heel and stalked out, making for upper levels. "No matter how difficult you knuckle-draggers want to make this."

 

[Chevu Visz]

Objective: Survive, make a Sith throw up
Location: Iziz
Allies: [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Tirdarius"]
Enemies: [member="Lucas Gravois"] [member="Reverance"]
Unknown: [member="Draco Vereen"]
4/20

Every cell in her body screamed at her to run, but as soon as Reverance growled his promise that if Chevu ran, she would be flayed, she stayed frozen in place. The Wrath gazed on her as if she were a doll whose arms he yearned to snap, and she bared her teeth at him. This was the monster who targeted her in the Lower City on Taris. On Taris she was a plaything just as she was now. It both incensed her and fascinated her. How could the twins’ hearts be so vastly disparate?

In the moment that her eyes left the apprentice, blondie struck, lashing out with a Force Pull, one that wrapped her midsection and began to tug her like a fish caught on a hook. With a frightened yelp, she began to move towards him, but stopped suddenly, as the attack was halted by the older Sith Lord stepping between them.

Chevu continued to press her Malacia into the young apprentice’s bloodstream. If he did not resist it, soon he would begin to feel incredibly dizzy and hopefully, so nauseated he would fold forward to retch out the contents of his stomach.

What the frell was going on? Why was she being spared by the two more powerful Lords? Or was it just that she’d unknowingly stumbled across a Sith pissing contest.

Inching backwards, the outnumbered Mirialan Knight began to attempt a slow retreat, hoping that the three were too engaged in their own pompous power struggle to notice her creeping away.

 

[Thalia Rist]

Location: Iziz Palace, Private Wing​

Post: 3/20​

People nearby/relevant: [member="Darth Adekos"]r [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

​

Thalia was immediately inflamed at what she saw as she looked down and saw the sith invading her home. Onderon was not the republic and these Sith seemed to not know the difference between the two and Thalia drew her eyes over the ground to the door once more as it was pushed in. Her body moved on its own after that as she reached to her side where she held her comlink sat on her. It was one that was connected to the internal guard force of the palace and he would have to deal with this.​

​

Something felt wrong though, her eyes running to the wall now in the direction of her mother to which her brow furrowed. Something was not right at all and she could feel it. "Anyone who can hear this transmission, move to the far wings of the palace and do not engage any intruders if you haven't already done so. The Sith are not enemies, they simply seem to think that we are part of the Republic for what ever reason..." She wasn't happy about the invasions of her own home, but she would deal with it in her own way after she woke her mother. Her mother would be able to talk to the sith.​

​

With that she grabbed her clothing and pulled it off. She was in no need for a dress right now and as she moved to her closet she pulled her hair up and tied it in place before getting on a dark set of clothing as she breathed in. Lastly in there was a small device that had been left on Onderon's moon in the aftermath several thousand years ago as she smiled. It was an item that had been recovered after and been the reason her planet had escaped tyranny the last time. She smiled her hand drifted over and took the device in hand. "Ive only used something like this once, going to have to make it count..." Her hand activated the short silver blade that hummed in her hand. After that moment she deactivated it and attached it to her hip with a small holdout blaster and lastly she took a vibroblade that was in there as well.​

​

She breathed in deeply and drew her eyes along the wood as she closed the closet she had just been in, moving towards the hall and then out into it. Her mother's room was not far now and the two guards that had been outside her room came with her. "I need you two ready to get down to the far wing with the rest of the guards still around." With that she arrived at her mothers door and knocked on the door. "Mother, are you awake, the Sith are invading the home..."​

 

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=3/20]​

Objective: Getting back in the saddle…
Location: In space
Allies: None
Enemies: None

The Twi'lek pawed frantically at his throat as Melori's power lifted him off the deck, but to his credit he held on to his weapon, and gagging, dying, he managed to aim and fire his blaster at her again and again. She simply held her grip on the alien's throat while casually deflecting the blasts into the bulkhead with her lightsaber. Then, not wanting to waste time, she moved her raised hand left and then right, using the Force to smash the Twi'lek into the bulkhead. The impacts shattered bone, and Melori let the body fall to the deck. A voice carried over a comlink on the Twi'lek's belt.

"Airy! Airy! What is going on there? Do you copy? Can you hear me?"

Melori deactivated her lightsaber, picked up the comlink, opened the channel, and let the sound of her breathing carry over the connection.

"Who is that?"

She answered only with her breathing.

"Airy, is that you? Are you all right?"

"I'm coming for you now," Melori said.

She crushed the communicator in her fist, reignited her lightsaber, stepped over the dead Twi'lek, and strode into the corridor beyond.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[3/20]
Objective: Reunite the Lovers.
Location: Iziz, Onderon, the Queen's quarters.
Enemies: Prying eyes.
Allies: Shadows.

The Queen, feeling rather drowsy and exhausted, retreated from her meeting to her chambers before the Sith could come busting down her doors. She brushed off any other approach politely as she strode directly to her room. A pair of guards followed behind her to be stationed near her door, like with the rest of the royal family in their quarters. However, the Queen chose to send them away, her mind clouded by the influence of Ophidia.

Feeling her quarry approaching, the Assassin let herself envelop in shadow, effectively removing her from light as she sat stone still in the chair. She moved the head of the King into her lap and pulled stronger on the queen’s desire to return. The helmet enclosed softly over her features, masking them behind the metal visor. Then the door opened.

Sometime before the Princess approached the Queen’s door, she stepped inside and waved for her guards to leave her to rest. Exhausted, the woman did not care to look about, but sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands. At this time, Darth Ophidia rose from her chair with the head in her hand. The Queen froze as the chair made a creaking noise when the assassin shifted her weight out of it. A deep sigh escaped the Queen’s lungs; she turned the head up towards the shadowy figure before her, tears already welling up in her eyes.

“And so you have come. I have waited for you. I knew you would one day come for me.”

The Queen’s bejewelled fingers reached out towards the severed, decomposed head of the king and grasped its cheeks. Ophidia allowed the woman to take the head from her grasp. Holding the head of the once-King tightly to her chest, the woman pressed her lips into the tangled hair.

“Are you afraid?”

The pale assassin's raspy voice warped in her helmet, giving it an extra edge of intimidation. In reply the Queen shook her head, an emptiness apparent in the pits of her eyes.

“I died the day I put him in his tomb, though I remained for our daughter and for our land. Now you have come to take it all from me once again.”

Behind the queen, the Nagajj reared and bared its teeth in silence. Ophidia unclipped her lightsabre. The Queen swallowed and stared at the hilt before closing her eyes as she felt the cold scales of the Nagajj against her back.

“I am coming, my love.”

The serpent hissed and the queen leaned her head back just before Darth Ophidia activated her lightsabre and swiped it through the woman’s neck, severing the head cleanly. The Queen’s torso fell back onto the bed and Ophidia reached out, placing a single black rose on the queen’s chest, she looked to the door as she heard the knocking and the voice of the Princess.

[member="Thalia Rist"]

 

[Thalia Rist]

Location: Iziz Palace, Private Wing​

Post: 3/20​

People nearby/relevant: [member="Darth Adekos"]r [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

​

Her hands held their position over the door before turning her head to look down the halls and wondering why her mother sent her guards away. Something w- In an instant her heart shot out of her chest as she felt pain and without hesitating she keyed open the door to see what she saw before her. Her eyes shook as she stared, unable to even breath for a moment before focusing on the pale assassin and letting the thoughts go through her. This was not what was suppose to happen, they had listened. Her world had given itself to the Sith without a fight, the Republic buildings were being torn down. And this one infront of her... this... familiar one.​

​

Her eyes narrowed further as she realized it, the small object that was all she needed to see was her father's head as she broke from her stupor. "You... again... again..." Her shaking hand took hold of the vibroblade at her side as she drew it. "Ill kill you for this..." She didn't hesitate after the words and in a single fit of bloodlust attacked Ophidia, her guards that had come with her not even able to react in time as the door was shut by the princess before she charged. She wanted to kill the one infront of her all herself, she wanted to kill this woman that took her family from her twice now.​

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: Carpe Palatium
Location: Onderon Royal Palace
Posts: [04/20]

Everyone in the palace who had been captured this far, from the trusted adviser to the most innocuous scullery maid, had been gathered up in the throne room. Or rather, it had been the throne room. Mere moments before his arrival, a team of Sentinel Droids with laser saws and jackhammers had physically detached the throne from the floor and whisked it away. Somewhere, out there in the wild galaxy, an eccentric collector of relics and baubles was going to get their hands on the one and only throne of Iziz, from which the Last King of Onderon had sat and held court. Wasn't that amazing? Darth Adekos appraised the worth at somewhere between one hundred and one hundred and fifty million, depending on just how eccentric the bidder was.

But enough about that. There was bullion to secure.

"Two of you people," Adekos began. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the choked sobs of some of these people. Apparently they were fond of the monarchy and the throne. More's the pity. Unless they were going to buy it back with their tears, Adekos wasn't interested. "Excuse me. Three of you people are privy to a portion of the combination needed to unlock the Royal Vault. You will step forward now so that I may proceed with liquidation of the royal family's assets starting now."

Darth Adekos cast his featureless gaze back and forth. No one stood up. No one said anything. They remained where they were, largely on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Cheap plastic bindings had been used. These weren't superheroes. Stun-cuffs would have been excessive. But apparently they were feeling like heroes, since none of them wanted to owe up to knowing the combination. "Very well, then. We'll do it the hard way." The Umbaran chose a random individual from the crowd, a Weequay- chef judging from his attire -and pointed at him. A pair of Sentinel Droids marched forth, grabbed the Weequay from under his arms, and dragged him towards the Umbaran.

This was going to take a while.

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Objective: ????
Location: Iziz Palace. Throne Room.
Posts: 1/20

There have many men and women who have came before you. Men and Women who rose from nothing, who risked every they had. Men and women who risked nothing, and were handed everything. Do you think you are different? Many have carried titles, King, Lord, Protector. Did you really think you were chosen?

"No." Darth Kentarch said. His boots made a loud thud with each step, echoing across the palace's main hall. Somewhere a Sith Assassin struck down a Monarch. But Kentarch had already committed regicide, the name almost forgotten in a sea of blood. Somewhere the loyalists of Crown and of the Republic were being rounded up and shot, if they had not already been chased from whatever holdout they may still cling to. Somewhere soldiers and sith alike looted the defenseless city of Iziz, the treasuries and stores which had grown and prospered for generations now sacked by the planet's new masters. When Kentarch looked upon the throne, he found droids had cut the massive chair from the floor and were walking it away. With the force he reached out and pushed, the droids smashing to pieces as they were stuck by the telekinetic energy. Then gripping the throne with the force he put it back into the place. The gaze of the Sith Lord shifted upwards to the Throne of Onderon in its rightful place. Unhindered he pressed forward, the great hall abandoned by the guards to defend their city and its people.

One final lesson. When a man gets what he truly seeks, only then will there be consequences. The galaxy does not punish wicked people. But take that which your heart most desires, and there will be no fading back into the shadows, no escape into the darkness. This time there will be consequences.

"I know the risk." Kentarch stepped up and sat upon the Onderon throne. Leaning back he allowed himself to relax in the chair. From here he could not hear anything, not the sounds of battle, not the clamor of people. The throne room itself darkened, long shadows cast across the marble floor. The Sith Lord had never ruled like this before. He always hid in the shadows, and vanished into the night. Shifting in place Kentarch thought of the other lords. Most if they saw him now would whine and squeal, and demand that he step down, and remind him of the ill-goten One Sith status quo. But he was lost in a haze, of the galaxy to come.

How the years pass and the bodies fall. Your a man on a tight rope over an ocean blood and filth. The worlds around you crumble and burn. A Republic lays shattered and broken, the rule of free people gone. A story is coming to an end, and another will begin. The tide is rising Kentarch, and your running out of rope.

"No Regrets."

 

[cheshire_kitty]

Objective: A - Capture royal family, and loot the palace.
Allies(?): [member="Isamu Baelor"], [member="Darth Adekos"], [member="Darth Ophidia"]
Location: Iziz Palace
Post: [1/20]

Although the matters of the Sith did not much concern Dietrich, he never passed up an opportunity to loot - especially at a royal palace. It would be stupid not to. However, looting was not his only reason for being at the palace. Dietrich had heard that the One Sith wanted the royal family captured. Why? It was none of his concern. He only cared about what he could receive in return for the capture of the princess. [member="Thalia Rist"], was allegedly the 'Jewel of Onderon' but jewel or coal, that did not matter. In the end they were all the same.

The palace may have been under a state of lockdown encircled by One Sith soldiers but Dietrich was prepared. On his DataPad was the plans of the palace, secret entrances and all. About a kilometre from the palace, hidden by overgrown shrubbery was a secret entrance that led to the bed chamber that once belonged to the king of Onderon.

At the end of the secret tunnel was a trap door just above Dietrich's and his combat droid's head that opened to under a bed. Dietrich took a tiny surveillance droid that resembled a fly from his messenger bag and nudged the trap door open, placing it carefully on the floor of the room before retreating back into the darkness of the tunnel. Dietrich then proceeded to open up an app on his DataPad to control the tiny droid, and navigated it into the princess' quarters.

 

[Darth Timoris]

[Post=4/20]​

Objective: Having fun
Location: In space
Allies: None
Enemies: None

“She’s coming for us, isn’t she!” said someone on the ship’s bridge.

A burst of blasterfire carried across the connection, but only for a moment before falling silent.

"There's no one," said a voice. "The lift's empty."

"Check it," someone else ordered. "She's still aboard somewhere—“

A sizzle and hum sounded, shouts, a thump, repeated blaster fire, a prolonged thrum, rising and falling, a series of shouts and screams.

"What's happening over there? What's that sound?"

"It's a lightsaber…”

Another thump, then another. More alarmed shouts. Only two or three blasters were firing, and in the relative quiet another sound came over the comm: breathing.

"What is that? Is that her?" The navigator asked, her own breath coming rapidly.

More shouts, the crash of something heavy, and still the hum of the lightsaber, rising and falling.

"For Ryloth!" came the shout, and the sound of rapid blaster fire filled the comm.

The hum of the lightsaber rose and fell, and those on the bridge imagined the Sith Lord deflecting the blaster shots with her blade. They'd seen it before. Abruptly the shots stopped. A strangled gasp came over the comm: another shipmate, choking.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[3/20]
Objective: Play with the Princess.
Location: Onderon, Iziz, Royal Palace, Queen’s quarters.
Enemies: Thalia Rist
Allies: Shadows.

The door opened, and framed in its midst stood the sparkling Jewel of Onderon. Behind the masked features of her helmet’s visor, Darth Ophidia narrowed her eyes in spite. The Princess was not due for harvest just yet. Nevertheless, her hatred, oh how delicious was the hatred that emanated from the young heir to the throne of Onderon. The Sith reared back to catch a stronger footing. She appeared much alike her serpent, which now quickly slithered to the dark assassin’s form and disappeared under her robes in a flurry of white motion. The bloodshine blade hummed impatiently in Darth Ophidia’s hand, thirsty for more blood of the royal variant.

[SIZE=9pt]"You... again... again..."

A malicious smile spread upon the Sith’s lips, hidden by the helmet, yet somehow apparent on her entire form. She enjoyed this as much as any malicious being would.

"Ill kill you for this...[/SIZE]”


Such beautiful bloodlust stained the Jewel of Onderon. Ophidia was almost tempted to let her have revenge, only to submerge that which was bright in the bloody shadows of murder. However, the Rattataki had things to accomplish, head to collect. She had to live. Shadows clung to her, not wholly covering her, but obscuring the corners of her form and giving an intimidating visual presence as she retaliated against the princess.

In response to the attack, Ophidia slashed at the vibroblade, attempting to strike it near the hilt and shear through the metal, ff successful, effectively disarming her opponent by destroying the weapon in her hand. The Sith Lord’s left hand travelled to the short sword strapped to the back of her hip, ready to draw and cut should it be necessary.

 

[Darth Grimoire]

Objective: Assist [member="Darth Adekos"]
Location: Onderon Royal Palace
Posts: [02/20]

Inside one of the wings of the palace, guards clinging to their blasters listened to the confusion on their comms-systems. One of the guards, a elder man with a beard attempted to calm his troops.

"Captain, what do we do?" one of his comrades called out. The Captain glared at his wrist communications array and grimaced. Then blaster fire tore him away from his thoughts. He looked up to see one of his men firing into a corridor. The captain snapped in anger at the brashness of his men. "Cease fire you fools! Don't eng- " His words were robbed from him as he saw one of his men get picked up by an invisible power and tossed out the window.

The Captain flinched but, soon regained his control over his body and rushed the corner. Grimoire and her troops had begun to assault the guard post within the Palace. The captain watched as one of his men relentlessly fired at the Sith. Each shot being deflected with the eerie hum of Grimoire's lightsaber. Closer and closer she crept until, the shooting was pointless.

Blast. Vrumm. Blast. Vrumm. Blast. Vrumm, Hisssssss. Grimoire removed the soldier's upper torso from the rest of his body. The Captain rushed ahead and grabbed at his men, "Stop in all thats holy!" Grimoire glared at the commander and the hints of a smile could be seen beneath the straps that wrapped over her mouth. She said nothing to the Captain. Turning to her men, she waved them to move forward, and they ran past her.

"My lord Adekos..." Grimoire spoke into her own wrist comms, "I am in position to assault the wings, what is your command."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective 2B: Secure Knowledge[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Location: The University[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Post: [02/20][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]In his opinion men had a choice to make when they studied under the tutelage of their Masters and the Force as a whole. Some picked the path of destruction - their ability to snuff out life and propagate property damage could become legendary in their own right; Shorn had been one of them, Vrag was a second one who focused on dealing damage, but Carach had picked a different path. The subtle path that focused on being a surgical tool or perhaps even a [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]sensor[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] in some ways.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It was his function as a sensor that allowed him to pick up the faintest of impressions in the Force.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The impression told him a simple thing… someone, somewhere was doing something incredibly stupid and was directly endangering the work he was trying to accomplish right here and now. This realization allowed him to focus on pinpointing the source of his unrest. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Somewhere farther into the building, deeper into the mammoth of knowledge. He directed his men and droids to keep working their charm. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]They already locked down the parameters of the University, their sheer numbers swarming every department and slowly categorizing everything. The Voice did not believe in wasting potential or destroying knowledge for the sake of it, instead he’d ensure that information would be preserved and stored for future reference.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]He himself, on the other hand, would start moving towards his source of unrest. Carach believed he only had a short period of time to stop whatever was about to happen.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It would be a tight schedule to keep.[/SIZE]