Private Cry Havoc

[Darth Virelia]

"Dark Forces Gather."

- TAG: Christoph Kudmol Voytger

Ruusan had loved her dearly. It had been a fruitful expedition indeed. Strange encounters, terrible secrets, and powers long thought buried had all fallen beneath the scrutiny of her violet gaze. The dead world had opened itself to her piece by piece, as though it too understood the inevitability of surrender before a will such as hers. Yet secrets never remained buried for long, not in a galaxy driven by greed and ambition.

Already, reports had begun to filter through the shadow networks she maintained so carefully. An expedition spearheaded by elements of the Sith Order had crossed beyond the Blackwall and descended upon Ruusan in search of prizes to claim for themselves. A military detachment accompanied them, likely assembled from ambitious officers and career opportunists eager to improve their standing before the decadent wastrel Lords who infested Jutrand like parasites feeding upon a dying beast.

Why now, of all times, remained unclear to her.

But the timing interested Virelia greatly.

Opportunity had a habit of disguising itself as coincidence to lesser minds, and she had long ago learned to distrust coincidence. Any number of individuals within this expedition could prove useful. Some might serve well beneath a scalpel and interrogation probe. Others could become test subjects for more esoteric experimentation. Perhaps one among them possessed sufficient talent to be shaped into something greater, or at the very least, into a vessel more comfortable than the ones she had discarded before.

Patience, however, would be key.

Evening came and went across Ruusan's scarred horizon. Darkness settled heavily over the ancient world as cold stars emerged above the forests and ruined valleys, their pale light barely piercing the thick veil of drifting mist that clung to the terrain. Across a treacherous cavern system lay the expected touchdown point of the incoming expedition, hidden among jagged stone formations and ancient wounds carved deep into the planet during wars long forgotten by most of the galaxy.

Virelia observed it all in silence.

It became apparent rather quickly that direct engagement would be wasteful. Far more intelligent would be to study them first. To understand why they had truly come here. To listen for loose tongues, fractured loyalties, whispered ambitions, and hidden fears. Soldiers spoke far more than they realised once exhaustion and distance from authority began to settle into their bones.

And she no longer possessed faith in the military arm of the Sith.

The Legions had become a failure of organisation and doctrine alike. Vast quantities of manpower, little true quality. Most of their victories had come against weakened enemies, poorly supplied holdouts, or desperate Imperials fighting on worlds already hostile to their survival. Their officers, non-existent in the structure of the Order.

Worse still, much of their opposition had already been quietly undermined from within by the machinations of others, like Her . To use the TIC as some grand benchmark against Sith military capability was, frankly, an asinine exercise in self-delusion. Rot disguised as strength remained rot all the same.

Which meant this little expedition interested her immensely.

For now, the Tyrant Queen intended to see with her own eyes just how far the military hand of the Sith had truly come since her exile from their Order.

 

[Christoph Kudmol Voytger]

Christoph was tired. Well and truly tired for the first time in a long time. It felt like he had been all over the Galaxy when in truth he had barely seen even a fraction of a fraction of a percent. He had fought and killed, yet his suffering continued when all he wanted to do was die a glorious death in service of the Sith. That had still eluded him. The hiss of depressurization and the whining hum of a loading ramp lowering filled the air of the shuttle's cabin. Standing up weary and exhausted, Christoph steeled himself in his resolve and dedication to his cause. A noble and righteous cause that brought him and this recovery team out to a world beyond the borders and veil of the only place he had ever called home. Some ancient and old world simply known as Ruusan.

As the Ramp opened a full squad of Troopers exited the shuttle that had touched down within an old war torn valley. A sixteen man unit comprised of four fire teams. Gunners, grenadiers, rifleman, and the various special personnel that made this a deadly but functional recovery team.
The job was simple. Enter the cave system, find the artifacts, take them and exfiltrate. Something that he and his brethren could handle easily. There was a sense of relief that this assignment would be something that he could lose himself in for a moment. To be close to the various Sith artifacts that littered this land. All his life he had wanted this. To go out with the priesthood and discover relics and serve them faithfully. To hear the sermons of priests of how he helped however he could in the acquisitions of these holy gifts.

Priming his blaster rifle he stepped off the ramp into an organized column where some private contractor awaited them. A Claimjumper type who scouted out these ruins and sold off the information and artifacts to the highest bidder. A disgusting yet useful heretic whose only concern was credits. It was always credits with these people. The debauchery and hedonism it brought them. He hated it. He hated the idea of credits. He always sent his back home to his family. To support them and the local parish.

"Take us there and you'll have your credits." Christoph watched as his Platoon leader made contact with the shady looking Nikto man.

"But of course." the Nikto contractor said in immediate response.

Turning around the man marched towards the cave system. He was but one of many in this region. Across the land Christoph was but one of a dozen teams all scouting and scouring the land im search of sacred artifacts.
The team around him began to talk. To open their mouths and chatter amongst one another. Christoph didn't blame them. It was a low stakes mission. After the last few and rigorous combat they saw. He knew they needed this break. Yet Christoph didn't speak to them, he had no friends, he had no social standing. How could he? All his life he grew up as this outlier in Sith society. A life rejected from serving the priesthood. What were they to talk about? Sermons, litanies, prayers? The exact size of a standard ritual circle? No, they wouldn't understand.
So Christoph simple remained silent as he and his team followed into the cave system. Their helmet lights activating as the dark swallowed them whole. What awaited him he knew not, but he would face it all the same.
Darth Virelia

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Dark Forces Gather."

- TAG: Christoph Kudmol Voytger

She could not allow such an occurrence.

One of the expeditionary teams that had landed upon Ruusan, led by a Nikto of all creatures, had begun its slow descent toward one of her archaeological dig sites. The relic hidden there had not yet been fully uncovered, but even in its partially excavated state, its value was already immense. It represented a crucial component of her future plans for Ruusan and the possibilities the wounded world might yet offer her.

To permit ignorant scavengers to stumble upon it now would be intolerable.

Moving swiftly through the cavern network, Virelia flowed through the darkness with unnatural speed, the Force coiling around her body and sharpening every movement to predatory perfection. Jagged rock, narrow ledges, and collapsing pathways became meaningless obstacles beneath her enhanced agility. She moved less like a woman and more like some starving thing native to the deep places of Ruusan itself.

Her destination was a designated choke point deep within the cave system.

There, the tunnels narrowed sharply between towering natural pillars and fractured stone shelves, forcing any advancing formation into a compressed column. It was the perfect killing ground. The squad would have little room to maneuver, poor visibility, and almost no opportunity to establish defensive firing lines once the ambush began. Perfect.

Through encrypted channels, she issued orders to the mercenaries stationed throughout the region. Concentrated ECM interference and signal jamming immediately began to flood the surrounding caverns. Communications degradation would not be immediate; that would arouse suspicion far too early. Instead, it would occur gradually, subtly, naturally.

Exactly as she intended.

As the soldiers descended further into the depths, their equipment would begin to falter in small, almost dismissible ways. Brief bursts of static interrupted transmissions. Helmet displays flickered momentarily. Motion trackers lost contact for fractions of a second before recalibrating. The deeper they went, the worse it became.

Soon, the darkness itself seemed heavier.

Without attached flashlights and electronic assistance, sight became nearly useless, the blackness of Ruusan's underworld swallowing depth and shape alike. The beams of their lamps seemed strangely weak against it, as though the cavern itself consumed light rather than reflected it. Voices over comms became distorted and fragmented before fading entirely into dead silence.

To the squad, it would feel natural. A consequence of descending too deeply beneath the planet's surface.

By the time they realised they were completely cut off from the outside world, it would already be too late.

Down within the cavern ahead, Virelia waited motionlessly behind one of the massive stone pillars overlooking the choke point. Violet eyes burned softly within the darkness, unblinking and patient. She had no interest in rushing the ambush. Recklessness was for lesser predators.

No.

She intended for this to unfold perfectly. They would panic, then they would die.

And when only a single trembling survivor remained, she would finally begin asking questions about the true purpose of the expedition and precisely what the Sith had come seeking upon her world.

 

[Christoph Kudmol Voytger]

Christoph remembered this level of darkness. It was an old adversary that reared its head back into his life. He didn't want to lose focus, but he couldn't help it. The weariness and fatigue had combined forces to entangle him into a web of his memories, and he was trapped again. Trapped in a box in complete darkness. As a boy, the Sith were merciless. He had stolen a ration bar from a tithe box that his parents had delivered to the local Temple.


It had been a weak harvest that year, they all had to go without. He simply could not help himself. He remembered the hunger, the burning sensation in his stomach that pained him until his ribs were visible. He was of course caught by one of the local Acolytes. His father was flogged in the town square with his mother made to watch, and Christoph spent three days in that pitch black box.


Reflective solitude they called it. Christoph considered it a fair punishment. He was just a weak child, his family but servants to the grand design of higher beings. But he never quite shook that memory. The isolation, the pitch black darkness that not even your eyes adjusted to. So dark that you could not see the bridge of your nose. This cavern, this place, it reminded him of it. Not even just the darkness, but the idea of it. A punishment. As if him being here was a misdeed or offence in need of correction. Christoph didn't know but he could just feel it. He could feel that Acolyte's stare once more. The sense of impending penance that he must suffer for his err.

"You won't believe your eyes Lap Dogs. Truly your master's will be pleased with you." the Nikto contractor said as he began to lead them into the narrow filling of stone caverns.

"I only see one way forward Alien scum. It wouldn't be difficult to press forward without you." Christoph's squad leader let off an annoyed grunt towards the man.

"Trust me, Sith. It'll be worth it. A fortune simply waiting to be plucked. You are lucky I discovered in the last few days. They were all simply sitting there. You're lucky men, surly great fortune and reward awaits you." Christoph had been a mile away when the conversation between the two had gone on.

He simply stood in the back of the formation watching his helmet lights flicker as his comrades entered the chokpoint and were swallowed by the dark one by one until it was his turn to cross the threshold. With that eerie memory gnawing at the back of his mind he took that next step. The flashlights on his helmet flickered in and out barely allowing to see the next man in front of him.

Darth Virelia