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Dark Hand Rebellion of Ancient Eye Hold of Winter

Baroness
Writer
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The Dark Hand had been a long time forming and coming together. Slowly it had happened in the shadows, as governments rose and fell. Unnoticed by the larger and smaller. Sensing a weakness in The Ancient Eye, the Hand was sent out on their first mission.

Their target was Winter, home to the Shrouded Republic and one of the moons of Nibelungen. The Shrouded Republic, built on the ashes of The Dominion, one of the many governments that had risen and fallen over the course of time that the Hand was being built.

This was a bold move by the Hand. They picked this location to take out both the Ancient Eye and Shrouded Republic. Two with one move. Where better to start against the Ancient Eye than with family? That family being the government built from the ashes of the Dominion. The Shrouded Republic and The Ancient Eye were going to fall today.

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Ra'a'mah Numare, the quiet one in the shadows was the one that pulled the strings of The Dark Hand. Each person involved had come to her to accomplish something. She in her turn was going to use each of them with her goals. Hers would take far longer to happen, but that is where patience came in.

Biding her time, she pulled on the weight she had and made sure this sudden movement from the shadows into the spotlight was unknown. Her role had been played out here and now the time of hiding was in the past. Tearing the shroud away, The Ancient Eye was going to feel the pain they had brought to the millions in their conquest of the planets they held.

The forces were gathered and readied. One thing Ra had done as she prepared for this assault was to acquire a few surprising artifacts. One of the skills a few from the Eye had was to bring the dead back. So she had travelled and picked up several sarcophagi in her travels. The hope was to bring them along and add more to the Hand's army. To show, the Eye weren't the only ones to inspire loyalty of the dead.

They had no intention of keeping what they won here or at least she didn't. This was simply to prove to people, the Hand was ready to move and make a mark on the Galaxy as a whole.

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[member="Mythos"] [member="Seras Rose"] @Ra'a'mah [member="Adron Malvern"] [member="Cynthia Garon"] [member="Stardust Bloodstone"] [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Lyra Sarn"]
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Character
Location: Westralis -> Winter
Objective: Electronic warfare
Allies: Dark Hand @Ra'a'mah
Enemies: Ancient Eye

Sure, after the wedding of Raiz Australis and Cassiopeia Caranthyr, she stayed for the after-party, wearing one of the two dresses she purchased on Westralis, but upon returning to the Bes'solegot, she left behind Skosk Fett and the others, while changing her dress from the pink one to the teal one. Still a little hung over, she thought it was not prudent to pilot under these conditions, but a ping on the ship's communications systems forced her to wake up, felling a little heavy upon awakening, and a little disoriented, while she tried to reach for the communications console in the ship's cabin. The origin point of that transmission left no doubt as to who it could be: one of those contacts left behind on Nibelungen under deep cover. The one that gave her the job of slicing the Ancient Eye state media some time prior. Now, she hasn't kept up to date about this slicing attack, so for what she knew, the AE may have replaced the contaminated equipment, or it may have not. But she knew that she mustn't use that piece of ransomware if they did, in fact, replace the contaminated computer equipment. Or even better: attack another target using slicing and electronic warfare.

"Hetzel, this is Brittany: the time has come to finish what the ORC and the Silvers started. Come back to Nibelungen at once!"

"Roger, roger"

Brittany Ratliff. Under that codename was the girl that she met in the Wheel that was her contact point for all operations related to the rebels on Nibelungen, and Winter. With that said, she was returning to the cockpit, wearing the teal dress, initiating the takeoff sequence and then punching in the coordinates for the jump to Nibelungen once she is clear of Westralis' orbit, with the ship set to enter cloak upon reversion. Plus there were weapons stashed in the cargo hold for her to supply the rebels, but for that she had a fake manifest instead stating the spare components, so that the authorities would instead believe that she was, in fact, carrying spare parts for weapons rather than fully assembled weapons. The difference being that some places' regulations on weapons were much more restrictive on fully assembled weapons than on spare parts. Hopefully I can still have a clue as to what's left to be done, the priority targets, upon arrival, she thought, while realizing it was not safe for Brittany to disclose more about what she would be doing this far from Winter/Nibelungen, and that arrival would come a few hours later, too, so the situation might change in the few hours she was flying to Winter.
 
Valde of the Vitae
Writer
Location: Winter
Objective: Defend Ra'a'mah until further notice
Allies: Dark Hand///[member='Ra'a'mah']
Enemies: Ancient Eye

Vulpesen's eyes shone behind the golden gleam of his phrik mask and his tail twitched behind him, flicking one of the flaps of his coat. His ear buzzed with the sound of his troops reporting in. Though admittedly, the Vitae Security Forces were kept to a minimal in this engagement, their duties lying more in defense than offense until Vulpesen could better secure the means to ensure their survival. Afterall, it was hard to lead a security company when your main product gets killed as a result of being underprepared As such, he had mostly brought along a few squads of his own personal guards, men with the materials and training to survive in a hostile situation.

"What's the plan?" He looked over to raw, fixing her with the stoic gaze of his mask. To be honest, there were still parts of the Dark Hand he was unsure of, one of those aprts being his own involvement with the group. But he trusted Ra, and had already promised her his help. Stuck in the conundrum of not trusting many of his allies quite yet, it was only natural that the zorren gravitate towards what he did best, protecting others.

Equipment
Twilight Fox Armor, a Dragoon Blaster Pistol. Three Rhak Skuri Gas cannisters, Kits Yelp Bracer(With ten extra belts), his personal lightsaber, three EMP grenades, two frag grenades, 5 extra lightsabers, 10 daggers, Three totems of Familiars(kath hound, Kreehawk, Acklay), Shadow Fox Amulet
 

Solan Charr

Character
Character
Location: Winter, Central Street.

Objective: Cause some Chaos, Overthrow some Egyptians
Allies: [member="Vulpesen"], @Ra'a'mah [member="Petria Breguet"]
Enemies: The Ancient Eye and The Shrouded Republic, [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

Forces: Shadow Legion, [member="Muad Dib"], The Skyborn(Deving), Nida Vaal.
Equipment: Seed Bags, Sabers, Blaster Rifle.


Solan grinned wide, his mind running with the emotions of those around him and he couldn't stop himself from grinning as it had been a long time since he had been given the chance to have some fun. He was standing there in the street, cloaked and hidden from sight by the clothing he wore, a blaster rifle barely hidden and his saber clipped on the inside of his sleeve, held there until he required it. The seeds in his bag shifted as he turned, looking on at the pair of peacekeepers that he had been following, his own soldiers moving with him along side streets or cloaked like him, hidden from the world and hiding from anyone that might blow things too quickly.

Meanwhile Nida Vaal, the Captain of the Keshiri Royal Guard, the Skyborn would be walking beside him. He smiled as he walked with the captain, who seemed to stand near him as an act, who's left arm looped with his right and the two seemed nothing more than pedestrians. Their cloaks hid the woman's pistol, rifle, and own saber, just as his cloak hid his. The Skyborn waited around the area, their simplistic use of the force convincing people they are merchants, or that they are tourist. One even that he is a member of the Eye's force users. And so Solan just smiled, his soldiers scattered and waiting, hidden in plain sight.

So the two in the meantime followed the peacekeepers of the Shrouded Republic and the Ancient Eye, until finally they reached their target. It was a small local barracks, an outpost, one that would be dealt with without too much trouble. And as the two came closer, Nida Vaal would peel off down an alleyway, taking out a small comms device.

Solan meanwhile would just keep walking, getting closer to the guards standing outside their outpost and with his right hand, the one without anything in it he reached up and took off his hood. There he stood, infront of the guards, the cameras and anything else that might catch sight of him and he gave a quick bow with the grin on his face growing.

"I would like to dedicate this song to [member="Mythos"] and Matador. May they every rest in hell, and suffer for their choice of Alliances... oh and, of course. Kark the Hutts. Nida Dear?" He smiled as the guards were ready to cart off a wacko when Solan removed a small device and pressed a button. He waited and the guards stared, confused when a song came from it.

"A present before you die, I do apologize it had to come to this. Shall we begin my little Symphony?"

Solan's cloak blasted off as he shot forward, dragging the rifle up and into the gut of the first guard, his smile like a devils as his skin paled a ghostly white and his veins turned ebony black. The vision returning of how he looked before his revival, only this time created through an illusion in the reverse manner that he had before. It used to be that he used illusions to hide this appearance, but now, fighting without that dark and deteriorating appearance felt wrong.

Either way, illusion or not, the next moments would happen like a flash. The guard on the left, who now stood with a blaster rifle jammed into his gut could only breath out before plasma cut through him and soon the one on the right followed with a blast traveling through his own chest and entering his heart, the moment passing quickly. Solan meanwhile would turn his eyes behind him and just as he had moved, so too did his men.

Blasters sounded, people screamed, a few detonations from bombs that had been placed in more abandoned areas. The Skyborn would drop and carve through those who tried to respond. With steel or saber, lives fell, with blasters claiming his own men or blasters claiming the lives of the peacekeepers. All the while Solan would just dust himself off with his right hand and look at the camera once more and bow.

"How I missed you all." He lifted the rifle and shot at the camera, his right hand snapping and fire coming to life in his hand, wrapping around his arm as he stepped into the outpost and decided it was time for some fun. He had some people to burn, especially those that would choose to consort with the Hutts.
 

Muad Dib

Paragon of Virtue
Writer
Location: Winter~ Rooftops
Allies:[member="Solan Charr"] (and by extension: [member="Vulpesen"] I [member="Petria Breguet"] I @Ra'a'mah)
Enemies: the misguided population subjugated by inferior deities, [member="Formorta"]
Gear: in profile, -beskar'gam

War threatened the planet, the pregnant expectation nearing it's time of arrival in which many waited with baited breath. And this day, the pains would arrive to throw the world into a chaos that would only cease once battle had been birthed.

The man followed from the roof tops, the call to arms answered by an ally, a friend, a vod. Solan Charr was many things. King, brigand, pyromancer. Today would showcase some of the attributes of the man. Bit he wasn't alone. He had a small force alongside him as well as another. A man known as the Mad One. At the chance to release some steam and assist Solan, Muad leapt. And found himself amidst an Egyptian smorgasbord of culture.

Below Solan began to engage and the Mad Master watched from his perch silently. Warnings went out and reinforcements were redistributed to the sector to quell the man and his allies. Gazing at the oncoming forces ready to battle the group below, Muad let out a loud laugh of excitement. He leapt to the low wall surrounding the perimeter of the roof which garnered the attention of those approaching.

A thin Armorweave bodysuit was upon his body, his beskad over his shoulder, revolver and kal at his belt. But what those arriving saw was none of these. A white tunic, a toga, was worn upon his form. The light breeze rustling the garment that reflected the light off it's brilliance as the man pointed down at the slowing armed forces.

"You have allowed your worship of false gods to corrupt you! You give your obeisance to those unworthy of your adoration. Your servitude to Masters who are false gods is an abomination! Let me show you the power of a God, the wrath of a vengeful deity! Bow to Zeus!"

Muad's blue eyes glowed brightly as he raised his hand into the air. Careful manipulation of the force created a spark of force lightning that elongated into a bolt, clutched in his grip. Pointing down to the cluster of soldiers he glared with all the fury of a righteous, wrathful god. Then he threw the bolt into their midst. It hit and sent shockwaves of electrical power into the figures below, the electrical power frying as if it was a mini EMP. Before the soldiers could respond Muad was already engaging.

Leaping from the roof his hands dealt out bolts of force lightning into the soldiers. Skin fried, hearts stopped, screams were heard. Landing in their midst the bolts of lightning grew longer and flexible, becoming whips of pure destructive lightning that the Mad Master used to lash and whip his way into them with a frenzied fervor that would not be denied.

A god come to teach the error of their ways through holy violence.
 
Flying Assassin
Character
Location: Winter, mile from Ancient eye military outpost
Allies: The Dark Hand
Enemies: The Ancient eye
Gear:
Silens cursor (armor)
Revan's Lightsaber

Orange eyes looked over at the horizon, the sky glowing a light blue as morning slowly broke through. As she took a deep breath she could feel the fresh cold humid air fill her lungs. The cool air breeze would blow through the feathers of her wings tugging them in the direction it blew. Rising to her feet she shuffled closer to the rocky ledge and looked down at the drop that would kill anyone, if they plummeted to their demise that person would surly brake every bone and leaving a paste of blood splattered where they landed. That thought sent a shiver down her body imagining it been her, momentarily forgetting the experiments that she was made to endure. The Black wings spread out as she fall forwards the air rushed passed as she gained speed before pulling herself level. Like a bird in flight her wings moved up and down to sustain her altitude above the ground below.

Teresa knew her destination, her mark of attack. She was on this world to help cripple and remove the firm grip of the Ancient eyes claim to the planet. The destination she had chosen was a place of grate importance to them. An outpost that distributed forces and orders. A place communications ran through. Remove the voice and disarray and coordination goes out the window in a blazing inferno. Excitement rushed through her wondering what challenges she would face, what blood would be spilt and what havoc she would cause. How ever this was one time she'd be willing to accept surrender. She needed pawns that would submit to her relinquishing any control or power they once had. She wanted to build a force she could use to gain her advantages. Yet a part of her hoped non will surrender.
 

Salij-Nekt

Character
Character
Allies: Ancient Eye and Shrouded Republic
Enemies: Dark hand

Salij-Nekt remembered when he had come here. Come to this moon, known as Winter. Moon to Nibelungen. And home to the Shrouded Republic. Last Salij had been here, he had fought. He had been bloodied...And as it seemed, he would once more. A small force of Ancient Eye that the Anubian had gathered. He had heard of something coming to the moon, something that dared face them. He had expected a smaller force than this...and reinforcements to aid the Anubian. But no such help was seen. Salij could not see his mistake, that he had come too soon.

Salij did not care, still could not see the mistake in coming to the battlefield so soon. Instead, the Anubian rose up his weapon to the air. Standing in an outpost upon the moon.

[member="Darth Pellax"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Formorta"] [member="Solan Charr"] [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Petria Breguet"] @Ra'a'mah
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Character
Location: Winter orbit
Objective: Electronic warfare
Allies: Dark Hand [member="Darth Pellax"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Solan Charr"] [member="Vulpesen"] @Ra'a'mah
Enemies: Ancient Eye [member="Formorta"] [member="Salij-Nekt"]

"I'm going to slice the defense grid's powerplant and cause the powerplant to self-destruct" she told all allies in-system over encrypted channels while she began her part in this operation, especially Vulpesen.

Before she starts coding the logic bomb that will, upon the Ancient Eye's local defense grid actually starting to fire, cause the self-destruct sequence to activate across all power generators in the grid, and, if what she understood about the defense grid is correct, based on what info Brittany fed her, each outpost controls a portion of the grid's fire control and also the power source of the portion under whose responsibility its fire control falls on. And yet, she knew that, because of coordination issues, she has to select a channel that will allow inter-outpost communications for the logic bomb to propagate. And, from there, the false benefits to tout. If the Ancient Eye State Media is any indication, they seem to be suckers for enhanced security, so what about 512-bit encryption of inter-outpost communications, at least as it pertains to power readings? Oh and they wouldn't care that much about computer security when the planet is under attack, she thought, while also realizing that she could also create a false profile prior to injecting the logic bomb in question. As if she was presenting herself as a mercenary hired after the slicing attack on the Ancient Eye state media. For this phase of the operation, she would not be using the name Hetzel Holdo, as a twenty-one-year-old from Oorn Tchis, but Diane Ormult, a computer security specialist from Kubindi, formerly from the Sovereignty. Yet, she wasn't to make adjustments to the logic bomb until she actually had access to the power grid systems, so she hastily made a new mercenarial profile into the Ancient Eye's military systems.
 

Stardust Solus Skirae

The Emerald Dragon
Writer
She was ready for war
It was her legacy and within her blood
She was a veteran of a hundred battles
She was a warrior
She was stardust
The last czar

She flew over in a drop ship right over the land, she held onto a side as she looked around at the land below, so peaceful, she took a breath and savored the moment before she looked down. She had her orders ans she was to cause as much chaos as she possibly could...considering that was her speciality....she could do that easily considering she was a bloody tank!

She closed her eyes as she heard the light go green and stepped off, air rushed passed her as she opened her eyes and watched the ground rush at her as she smiled and laughed as she flipped and hit the ground hard, she sent dust and made a nice crater up as she stood and popped her neck glancing to where she felt her ally [member="Darth Pellax"] as she simply nodded and stood as she rolled her shoulders and started forth towards the base, the drop ship that had bright her landed a ways behind her and out from it came godkillers. Loyal soldiers and comrades she had fought with

standard procedure folks, this place war are to mess up this place. Demo it level it, any civies are to be spared unless they aim at you

Her orders were given, the march begin, 11 people noving quickly towards the outpost a mile away

They would release hell, no

They were hell bringers

Allies-dark hand
Enemies-ancient eye
Troopers- Gear in bio
 

Kainan Wolfe

Shadow of War
Character
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[-SOUNDTRACK-]
Attn: [member="Ra'a'mah"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Lorelai Ventira"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Petria Breguet"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Cynthia Garon"] | [member="Darth Pellax"] [member="Decker Willo"] | [member="Drogh"] | [member="Lord Nexus"] | [member="Mercutio"] | [member="Nemo"] | [member="Rann Thress"] | [member="Stardust Bloodstone"]
  • Windshear Keep
    Winter, Shrouded Republic

Some would say that war never changes. That, in a chaotic galaxy who's very nature is uncertain, conflict is the only constant. No matter where you looked in the calendar, somewhere, someone was always engaged in the bloody trade of killing his fellow sentient beings. Whether it be for material gain, territory, religious belief, or ideology, it didn't matter. In the end, it always boiled down to that primordial moment, the encounter of combatants engaging in the deadly choreography of battle, from which only one combatant may emerge victorious.

This was all true, but it was not the entire truth. There were, in fact, two constants in the galaxy, two certainties that dictated how events around them unfolded: war and the Force. Usually, the latter was a driving factor behind the former, one which escalated conflicts to truly horrific proportions, if it wasn't responsible for creating them in the first place. To some, the Force was the greatest source of injustice and suffering in the galaxy, a mysterious thing with a will of its own, which seemed to subtly but surely manipulate and influence events, to serve its own, unfathomable ends. No one truly emerged victorious from any conflict the Force was involved in. All that was left in the wake of such wars, were smoldering ruins and piles of mangled bodies.

The story goes that a long time ago, a group of people saw the same thing, the great cycle of injustice and stagnation which perpetuated the unresolved conflict between Light and Dark, ad infinitum. They saw what the Force was doing to the galaxy, what it was driving it towards and decided to take action to change things. They called themselves the Sith Triumvirate, but it was one of the three leaders of this group, who was the mastermind behind the entire plan. She was known as Darth Traya, although few remembered that name, today. Through cunning and subtle manipulation, she pushed and prodded the galaxy towards an outcome that would result in its liberation from the clutches of the Force. And although she evidently failed, her legacy lived on, hidden in the forgotten corners of the galaxy, waiting to be found by an intrepid mercenary with a grudge to bear.

Fast forward a few thousand years and a mysterious organization spoken of in hushed tones behind closed doors, has arisen in Wild Space. They were known as the Wardens of the Shroud and although they secretly controlled the direction of the Shrouded Republic through covert means, the agenda and goals of this secret society were a complete mystery to the rest of the galaxy. Their leader and founder was a man called Darth Tacitus the Just, the White Wolf of Ession, once known as Kainan Wolfe and before that, as something else.

Tacitus' greatest talent was not his combat skill, or his strength, although these were certainly respectable. His greatest gift, was his mind. A cold, calculating machine honed by years of hardship, which had the capability to pick out patterns of events. Driven by a twisted sense of justice and duty, the man that was Darth Tacitus, a near-mythical figure to many of his followers and an enigmatic Sith Lord to others, was known as a mastermind, a man who painstakingly crafted complex plans that tended to involve a great number of people across a great number of worlds. And he had been planning his coming war against the Force for a very long time.

Everything Tacitus had ever done, has been with the purpose of working towards his ultimate goal. Everything was a carefully planned move, who's potential consequences and competing options had been weighed, measured, then weighed again, until the optimal course had been found. Today was no different.

For some time now, Tacitus had been quietly influencing as many of the Ancient Eye's resources as he could, gently pushing and prodding them in the direction he wanted them to take, culminating in the events on Dredd, which ultimately gave Tacitus and his Wardens what they wanted: one more tool to add to their arsenal, one more weapon to use against their ultimate enemy in their secret war against the Force.

Of course, Tacitus had not failed to notice the cracks within the weave that held the Ancient Eye together. They were, in the end, an alliance of factions, each with its own goals, tied together solely by the pursuit of the same object. These cracks were bound to widen and eventually fracture this empire, as competing factions vied to control the powerful artifact that was the object of their crusade across space and nowhere was this more visible than amongst the various warlords under the War Chieftain's control. Instability was inevitable and it might lead to civil war, or at the very least, a fragmenting of the Ancient Eye. Collapse was inevitable and Tacitus had planned accordingly.

The Shrouded Republic's occupation of Winter was never meant to be permanent. It would only last as long as the moon served the purposes of what was, at heart, a nomadic nation of a few million battle hardened veterans. It was why Tacitus had never allowed his people to become too comfortable. It was why this harsh little moon was chosen as their base of operation in the first place and it was the reason behind the Shrouded Republic's oppressive policies towards the moon's natives. Afterall, the ends justify the means and the great war against the Force could only be won if those involved were willing to do whatever it takes to secure victory, no matter how monstrous or brutal. To choose the lesser evil, over the greater one. For the only other alternative was far worse, so much so that it did not bear contemplation.

A rebellion, or a foreign invasion, was not unexpected. Although it was impossible to accurately predict when and how it would unfold, the Shrouded Republic's policies, coupled with the weakening of the Ancient Eye, were bound to cause something like this. Tacitus and his Wardens had prepared for such an event and had incorporated it into their plans.

Sitting silently in his throne-like chair, in the now empty library in his fortress of Windshear keep, Tacitus, the Overlord of the Shrouded Republic, gave a single command when word reached him of the events unfolding across the moon. The command went out on a secure channel, encrypted and destined only to a small number of top-tier, trusted military officers, the leadership of the Wardens of the Shroud and the Wolfguards. It was a simple command, only three words, that signalled the end of the Shrouded Republic's occupation of Winter. The time had come to move on and a secret deal had already been signed with the Confederacy of Independent Systems and its ruler, Darth Metus, a close ally of Darth Tacitus and a secret member of the new Sith Triumvirate that Tacitus was also a part of. The words were spoken in the same cold, calculating voice that Tacitus was known for. "Execute Case Orange."

The insurgents attacking the moon, would find themselves facing a strange sight. Several days ago, the planetary defenses had been secretly disconnected from the military communications grid of the Shrouded Republic, STRATCOM, and placed on their own separate network. They had also been set in a limited state which would initially make it appear that nothing was out of the ordinary, but would be unable to activate in case of an attack. This was so that, should the locals ever find themselves freed from the occupation, they would be unable to turn the moon's massive ground-to-space weapon platforms against the fleet which orbited above, at least not in time to prevent the fleet's next action. And separating them from STRATCOM meant that those controlling these installations, would not have an easy means to launch a cybernetic attack against the ships above.

When the order came, military equipment and personnel was mobilized and ordered to report to various designated areas, the coordinates of which were distributed to the unit commanders, who were instructed to move their forces to these rally points and await further orders. Wolfguards and Blackwatch security teams rushed to secure the Shrouded Republic's politicians and safely deliver them to designated shuttles. Those that were loyal, that is. For the ones suspected of disloyalty, a different plan was enacted. Something called the 'Shrouded Republic Travel Plan'.

Under the pretext of evacuation, these suspect officials were taken to out-of-sight locations, then quietly assassinated, shot in the back by the guards which were supposedly there to protect them. One such unit, consisting of a masked, white-robed Warden of the Shroud, a pair of Wolfguards and a Blackwatch death squad entered the office of Ra'a'mah, who carried the rank of Lord of Whispers, spymaster for the Shrouded Republic and an individual which Tacitus had never trusted due to a number of things which, in his eyes, didn't add up. She was too shifty and self-centered and it was clear that she had an agenda that went beyond the Shrouded Republic, her recent involvement with Adron Malvern proving that. To put it simply, Tacitus expected her to drive a knife in the Shrouded Republic's back and there were very few things which he despised more than treachery. A simple, painless shot in the back was not what these men had in store for her. What they planned, was far more gruesome.

"My lady," spoke the Warden, saluting in Shrouded Republic style by bumping his fist over his heart. "An evacuation of key officials has been ordered. For your own safety, please follow us," the masked man said, just as the first distant rumble of an explosion rocked the building, soon followed by other rolling thunders and the faint sounds of railgun and turbolaser bolts streaking through the atmosphere.

Glowing spots could be seen on the horizon, in the rough direction of several military installations and native settlements, squalid towns which were now reduced to ash as, the miserable existence of their inhabitants abruptly ended by the Shrouded fleet's glassing of the places that had been their homes for most of their lives, now sacrificed on the altar of Tacitus' grand cause.

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Thraxis

The Damn-Forged
Writer
Location: Nibelungen Backalley
Allies: [member="Formorta"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"]
Enemies: [member="[/FONT][FONT=georgia]Ra'a'mah[/FONT][FONT=georgia]"] | [member="Petria Breguet"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Solan Charr"] | [member="Muad Dib"] | [member="Darth Pellax"] | [member="Stardust Bloodstone"]
Posts: 1
Goal: Hope for the best?
Loadout:
Chasis Slot: Tazi Helmet Slot: Tazi
Cloak Slot: Phantasm Greave Slot Tazi
Pauldron Slot: Tazi Foot Slot: Tazi
Melee: Cruciatus Overcoat: None
Hand-to-Hand Weapon: Vambrace
Rifle Slot: DEMP Sidearm Slot: Pistolas
Misc: None

Puff, billow and gale. These were the noises that ran through the city, the sound of an empire cascading into nothingness. There was no overarching war, nothing to cause disruption and chaos. Just empty streets and a silent night sky glaring down. It was like the Cartel all over again, not with a bang, not even with a whimper, but with the pace of erosion and just as loud. But here it was, Thraxis found himself stuck from one skirmish not too far off in the past to a quiet night on the town. His luggage laid to rest, his helmet detached and laid next to him on a lonely stool as he huddled up in a lonely room in the back alley of a sleazy motel. He heard the pounding in the next room, whether from a couple whether paid or true, or some rhythmic beating drumset he didn't know, nor could he care. He simply propped himself up, a foot on the window as he looked to a night sky, a glass raised to the sky as if cheering the galaxy himself before bringing it to his cracked and bloodsoaked lips and drinking the night away.

But his salute and night to himself were quickly brought to a cacophony of noise, his Comm opening up as distress signals in silence ran through channels of the Ancient Evil, his free hand brought to his eyes as he rubbed them, tire and crust rolled out as he placed his bottle down. Running through it with meandered care. He couldn't help but sigh, the Skirmish had taken enough out of him, and it seemed the Ancient Evil had no assistance to ever give in these dire straits. He pulled himself up, running through the Cam footage to find out what was going on. And from what he could tell, people were dying to the sound of music, which meant the force was at play. Which, in all fairness. Was always at play and screwing everything up.

As he withdrew from his cramped, yet someone comfortable abide, he locked in his mask and tossed over his shoulder and onto his lap his Duffel bag. The thing was filled with armaments, but he could only manage so much on one person. To his gauntlets, he strapped his Vambrace. To his waist, his two Pistolas and a blade. His back, an ill-fitted strap of leather helf in a haphazard swing his DEMP and wrapping over his back he flipped on his Phantasm cloak. He was almost ready, he raised a gun, the hammer snapped down with a crack as a bullet penetrated through the wall, and the rhythmic bass drop finally came to an end with a scream. He opened up his comms, contacting all members of the Anceint Evil on site. "Thraxis. Repeat this is Thraxis over. Can I get a headcount of who is currently here? Preferably through code. I'll start." He said, a foot pressed and snapped open the door, hinges and bolts flying forward as the owner of this less than reputable establishment was knocked by a door through the face before being the doormat to clean his boots as he continued his stride. "Baron von Evilsire is here. Repeat. Baron von Evilsire is here." He continued, heading down a flight of stairs with Comms strapped loud and proud so he could get an idea of who had arrived.
 

Solan Charr

Character
Character
Location: Winter, Central Street.

Objective: Cause some Chaos, Overthrow some Egyptians
Allies: [member="Vulpesen"], @Ra'a'mah [member="Petria Breguet"]
Enemies: The Ancient Eye and The Shrouded Republic, [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

Forces: Shadow Legion, [member="Muad Dib"], The Skyborn(Deving), Nida Vaal.
Equipment: Seed Bags, Sabers, Blaster Rifle.


Solan sat in the middle of the outpost that his men has seized as a center of operations for now, thinking on where the next target they should go after might be next. He was silent while his men cleaned up the enemies left within, his mind focused on the flow of life around him and the emotions that he could feel. For a few moments there was the normal flow that he had felt before the disruption caused by his soldiers. There was a number of holes and fear and panic were common but something else was touching at his mind. He further focused on the world around him, thinking until finally he found a hint of what he was looking for.

He reached out and latched onto it, pulling himself closer and closer to the source. It felt wrong and familiar all at the same time, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It worried him, that something would feel so familiar and not instantly be recognizable when it came to the flow of the force and life itself. His soldier's work in the outpost around him was in no way the cause for what he was feeling and it further confused him when it seemed that was the only thing he could jump to.

His frustration with this momentarily drew him out of his trance and he looked around the room he had found to focus in. It was a large room, enough for his personal guard and Nida Vaal to operate in and set up defenses within. It wasn't hard for them to protect him here while he focused on the world around them, and soon he found himself calmed once more. He closed his eyes and fell back into his trance, taking hold of the trace he had found before and dragging himself along its trail.

It would take him a dozen minutes but soon he found himself standing on the outskirts, staring at nothingness. The city's end and for a moment nothing was there. Then a flash, followed by more flashes and with each flash he felt what he had been searching for. He stood there feeling it for a few moments longer before his eyes widened and he realized what it was. He remembered it well, knowing what this was, having been at the epicenter of this one time, protected but breaking apart inside and only Genevieve waking him from it after he had shattered. He had to disconnect now otherwise he would end the same way and this time there would be no enemies to redirect the result onto, only his own men.

He shot out of his trance, coming back to the real world and breathed heavily, reaching for a communication device and breathing slowly. They didn't have a means of defense on the ground level besides what they could sneak with them, and the resources they were afforded were short. There needed to be a way to secure command of the defense platforms on the planet, but even then that would take time. Which left him with the only option that Solan had left. After all, his soldiers had arrived with the idea of leaving in the end, and the Shadow Legion used a very specific fleet that Solan had taken with him when he had left the Shadow Empire long ago.

Granted, that fleet was only nearby with the idea of retrieving them after, but Shadow Fleet A and B were nearby none the less.

He just wished he was not the only one that had thought about the retrieval part of the plan when this had come up. Not that his fleets couldn't handle things on their own, but there was always the issue of lost life, and he preferred that his men did not take such alone.

He had also been told not to use it in combat, but if he was correct in what he felt, that was out of the question from his standpoint, and Darth Metus could shove it up his backside for all Solan cared at this point. If the man wished to send him and his ships away from the Confederacy, should the enemy even be able to link the ships to the Confederacy which was wholly unlikely, then so be it. Either way, he needed to act and orders from someone who was not here would not stop him.

"Oversight, move into position, be prepared for a fight. Order Spearhead to standby alongside its detachment." He would prefer to use his smaller force first, hoping to drive off the enemy or atleast weaken it so that his allies might strike as well.

For now though, he had to refocus on the world around him.

"Hey Beautiful, hope you had ships of your own, We need to seize the skies." He would this time speak with those he had allied himself to, specifically transmit on the frequency that Ra had chosen before. "If not, do tell me, I would hate to have all this fun alone."

Now he would set the comm down and relax his body once more, drifting back into the force and letting things progress while he oversaw the flow of the force, waiting to see what effect his actions would now have on the flow of the force.

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([member="Darth Tacitus"] The next portion of my post will be conducted as Edric, who will be playing commander of Shadow Fleets A and B, and will be posted hopefully right after this post in order to keep things neat. For any future fleet based threads, do tag [member="Edric Vanyan"], and pass on said info to your people for whoever chooses to respond. The Ships themselves will carry the Keshiri IFFs, and not CIS ones, though they do belong to the CIS officially, incase you are confused by the meterage being used.)
 

Edric Vanyan

The Historian King
Character
Location: Winter,

Allies: Dark Hand People

Enemies: The Ancient Eye, The Shrouded Republic, [member="Darth Tacitus"].

Forces: Operating under Keshiri IFF, but crewed by CIS and Keshiri Soldiers, wearing Keshiri Colors.

Active Components: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_-M9Tb0zs3mSsHTQpz2O8FJe0CZvHsQPGUYNeksMboE/edit?usp=sharing
Inactive Components: (To be used as necessary, ships pulled from Here and from personal CIS fleet stockpile, as well as Edric's Company Here.)


Edric had taken to napping under the assumption that he would not be needed, nor that things would take a turn for the worse. As far as he had been told, the battle would be relatively quiet and quick, then he would come in with the capital ship, pick up his father, and leave. Simple as that with no blood on his hands this day but it would seem that asking for something so simple was out of the question.

That was until he got a rude awakening by the sound of the ship's captain alerting him to the change in the situation. Shadow Fleet B had been called in to deal with the ships above Winter. This was a drastic change in orders and the use of the Expeditionary fleet alone was a strange command considering the First Fleet was also with it. His father had been a bit distant over the last few years, but only calling for the smaller of the two fleets without any of the support wings from the First Fleet was not ordinary for him. The man preferred a show of force, which confused Edric.

Perhaps he was trying to limit the loss of life?

But in doing so he must trust the allies of his to actually act and have soldiers of their own. Edric wasn't so trusting of people he did not know so he decided to alter the orders. He would still send in Shadow Fleet Bravo exclusively, but he would make sure Alpha was in the system too, but only as relief should Solan's judgement be as faulty as Edric believed it to be.

It would not take him long to get the the bridge of his flagship, The Skyfall. It was a smaller ship than the other Flagships of the separate wings that made up the First Fleet, but it was the oldest craft in their command. It was the ship Solan had used when he first came to Kesh, and it had served the Keshiri government ever since then, the personal ship of Solan Charr, and his flagship under the flag of every nation he fought for. It was more of a symbol for the man at this point, than anything else and Edric had adopted that symbol as his own when he had taken over the throne.

Once on the bridge he took his seat, looking over the officers as they moved about and then at the Captain who oversaw things and the fleet movements. Edric let him settle their course before speaking, informing him of his decision.

"Captain, order the First Fleet to follow the Expeditionary Fleet, but to not engage. We will stay on the fringe of the battlefield, so to speak and observe until our aid is deemed necessary or not." The man merely nodded and passed on the order, letting Edric think to himself as his own personal guard came to stand with him. The man was Nida Vaal's second in command, a man whom Edric got along with well and had suggested the appointment of. He was not large, nor quick, and in many respects more of a scholar than anything else. Even the force connection that was necessary among the royal guards was weak in this man, instead of any martial prowess, the man made up for it in his mind.

"Yes Hardin?" Edric looked at the man who stood beside him, knowing that some question was brewing.

"Any reason you are listening to your father's orders? It is unlike you to simply do as he says when you have other, more viable option?" The man was quick and to the point, speaking with a sharp tone.

"Entertaining a retiree, even the Elderly need some form of respect and entertainment." With that their conversation was over and the ship began to leap forward, breaking the barrier and lunging forward into Hyperspace. Edric waited calmly, the minutes it took to get through and arrive at their destination. The fleets had not been far as they had been expected to get into and out of this space as quickly as possible.

When they came out, Edric would give a quick moment to have comms placed into an Open Channel, so that he could speak to his enemy and hopefully get them to surrender before things became too dicey.

"If those in Orbit around the planet named Winter would quickly lend me your ears. Those who surrender now or leave the field will do so with their lives and unhindered. Should any ships attempt to engage in combat, or alter the going course of the planet below, my compatriots will be forced to attack you. I promise you on my honor and my life that my words are true, you have fifteen minutes to decided... or you know, until you fire upon my ships, which are ready incase you get any clever ideas as to the contrary." With that he waited, patiently.
 
Location: Near Windshear Keep
Allies: @Ra’a’mah, The Dark Hand
Enemies: [member="Darth Tacitus"], The Ancient Eye
Objective: End a Rivalry

Adron had been on winter for a few days, smuggled on the planet by Ra’a’mah he was quick to separate himself from her. Though he was proficient at remaining unseen, he could not risk them being caught in owe proximity. As such he had mainly been traversing the world, as discreetly as he could manage, before the invasion began.

Now he stood silently on a cliff overlooking Windshear Keep. A behemoth of a fortress constructed by Kainan. He would be amiss if he said it was not an impressive display of might. Wolfe had exacting taste that even Adron could respect.

A soft chuckle crept from his lips as he looked over the damning sight. Kainan Wolfe. The man had been an impeccable thorn in Adron’s side ever since he showed himself in the days following the Dominion’s fall. He was a man who pursued order and peace through death and fear, with little regard for those who stood in his way.

The irony of their similarities was not lost on Adron. Both had accepted The Dark Side of the Force for the power it had promised them. It was almost comical how similar the two were.

Perhaps it was their similarities that brought them to hate each other so? Who could tell. In the past they had been much like an unstoppable force and an immovable barrier. Locked in a conflict that seemed eternally drawn. Of course, today that conflict was set to end. Years of training had brought Adron to the point where he was eager to end this rivalry. Of course there was one more obstacle in his path.

Pulling his Hood over his head, Adron chuckled softly to himself as he turned back, prepared to descend the cliff, and infiltrate Windshear Keep.
 

Kainan Wolfe

Shadow of War
Character
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Attn: [member="Ra'a'mah"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Salij-Nekt"] | [member="Formorta"] | [member="Lorelai Ventira"] | [member="Mythos"] | [member="Petria Breguet"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Cynthia Garon"] | [member="Darth Pellax"] [member="Decker Willo"] | [member="Drogh"] | [member="Lord Nexus"] | [member="Mercutio"] | [member="Nemo"] | [member="Rann Thress"] | [member="Stardust Bloodstone"] | [member="Kiso"]
  • Windshear Keep
    Winter, Shrouded Republic

The massive, windswept fortress that was the beating heart of the Shrouded Republic's government, was abuzz with activity. With the exodus protocol being activated, Tacitus' most trusted officers and government members were being safely escorted into the great hall within the fortress' rearmost tower, which held all the government offices and Tacitus' personal residence. These were people who had served him with loyalty for years. Wardens of the Shroud, army officials, Unbroken Lords, members of the Assembly of Shrouds. These people had proven their loyalty countless times and have carried out Tacitus' directives to the letter, despite any objections they may have had regarding them. They would be instrumental in carrying out the next phase of his plans.

The time had come for the Shrouded Republic to leave the Ancient Eye behind. In the wake of its departure, only confusions and questions would remain and to most of the galaxy, it will seem as if this enigmatic nation had vanished into thin air.

In secret, the exodus fleet would relocate the few millions who made up the Shrouded Republic's citizenry, to a hidden location within the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the identity of this nation concealed under a different name and the truth kept secret from all but a few.

The first transports began to descend upon the fortress, upon Westender City and towards the various rally points distributed to the army officials, just as Tacitus greeted his guests and directed them towards the shuttles which had been assigned to them. The Overlord would not be amongst the first to depart, instead he would stay with his soldiers and Wardens of the Shroud for a while, as always, leading from the front and right in the middle of things.


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OOC Note: [member="Solan Charr"] / [member="Edric Vanyan"]
Will reply to you in a separate post, after I get a response from the PM I sent you.
 
To boldly alchemize what no one alchemized before
Character
Location: Winter orbit
Objective: Electronic warfare
Allies: @Ra'a'mah [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Stardust Bloodstone"] [member="Darth Pellax"] [member="Solan Charr"] [member="Edric Vanyan"] [member="Adron Malvern"]
Enemies: Ancient Eye [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Salij-Nekt"] [member="Formorta"] [member="Thraxis"]

"I have another idea to demo the outpost: I'm planting a logic bomb into the powerplant's computer systems, which will cause the powerplants of the outposts covered by the defense grid to self-destruct within five seconds of the guns firing. In the meantime, continue with your present course of action" she told Darth Pellax and Stardust over an encrypted comm channel.

Even if compartmentalization meant that STRATCOM segregated ground communications infrastructure from the naval one, it would be no biggie to Petria. No more than signing up on a mercenarial basis with the Ancient Eye's military as a computer security specialist was. Once that process was completed, she had a username and a password to enter the powerplant computerized management system's developer mode, attached to her fake identity of Diane Ormult, she also had the second factor associated with it, for a total of two factors. After successfully entering the two-factor authentication credentials into the powerplant's mainframe, as accessed remotely, it was time to enter that developer mode, and to find out where in the code the throttling routines are, as well as the relevant flags to trigger the self-destruct system so that she could tailor the logic bomb accordingly. She also realized that they believed a lot in on-the-go work for those computer security specialists, given that she had remote access to the mainframe from a computer in orbit. Poodoo: even when they needed computer security specialists most, it seemed that the lead time to actually get them might have been a little too long for their tastes, she thought, while she was combing through the power throttling code, and hopefully the changes would propagate through all the outposts in the groundside defense grid once that was over. In fact, on her computer console she would have two active displays: one with the code for the self-destruct system, and another one with the code for the throttling. Easy maintenance is something she appreciated in software, and she continued coding the logic bomb into the power plant's source code, believing it would be rather straightforward to implement. So straightforward, in fact, that creating the fake profile and entering the mainframe would likely take longer than the coding proper.
 
Baroness
Writer
Location: Winter
Allies: The Dark Hand, their allies
Companion: [member="Vulpesen"]
Enemies: The Ancient Eye, their allies

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While she had Vulps as her companion on the ground and in the office room with her, Ra knew there were others nearby. Not only allies of hers, but enemies as well. When the Wolfguard and Warden showed up, she looked at Vulps for just a moment and turned her attention to the newcomers. With a simple shake of her head before she spoke, only she and Vulps would be leaving this room alive.

"No, I am safe where I am, Warden."

She would have added the suggestion they leave, but knew that would not be an option they picked. Knowing exactly what the Wolfguard went through for training, Ra knew their strengths and weaknesses. She just hoped these men weren't able to use the Force.

Fully expecting to be killed, she would not allow that to happen this day. The first opportunity to spread her wings was not going to be taken from her by the agents of the Shrouded Republic.

"Let's get this over with."

Reaching out with the Force, she would attempt to hold the three of them in place. A battle of wills would happen and only if they were more stubborn than her would that freedom be regained. Not drawing any of her lightsabers, she pulled the blaster off her hip and quickly shot the two Wolfguards in the head. Clean and painless deaths for them. The Warden would be somebody for Vulps to deal with.

As he took care of that last person, Ra turned her attention to the communications when it went off. Solan asked about plans for getting away and if she had ships of her own.

"I got ships a plenty, Solan. They just aren't exactly the best for fighting. Mostly cargo freighters. You know my line of work, anyway. They brought some cargo that just needs to be dropped and can then provide pick up pretty much anywhere."

Among that cargo were the sarcophagi and one was special. It was forged of a lighter metal, but they had been unable to open it externally. The metal involved was Duranium and it appeared to be sealed from the inside. Who or whatever was inside would need to open it from the inside. Perfect for what was planned. The raising of the dead.

"Drop your cargo off and regroup at the agreed pick-up location."

Orders were sent to the cargo ships above and that was that. Turning her attention to Vulps, hopefully the Warden had been taken care of and they could started heading to the rendezvous point they had agreed on before.
 
Valde of the Vitae
Writer
Location: Winter
Allies: The Dark Hand, their allies

Enemies: The Ancient Eye, their allies([member="Darth Tacitus"])
Objective: Subdue Warden/ Defend Ra'a'mah
"She's perfectly safe. Would you be so kind as to surrender so I don't have to risk killing you?" His head tilted as he spoke, his voice holding an almost pleading though calm tone. The code was everything to him. Life, Freedom, Unity. He didn't want to kill this man, but he knew that battle often came with death. And if push came to shove, he could do it and sleep well at night. It wouldn't be the first time.

Stepping between Ra and the Warden, Vulpesen adjusted his coat, calmly buttoning the top and slipping his hood over his head, though he prepared for a quick assault form the warden. Behind him, the tails of his coat flicked as his tail under it. It had been a while since he'd been to war. Many moons since adrenaline had pumped this high in his system. Death, destruction, mayhem. It was a guilty pleasure. He hated death, but war... war he lived for. It was his home, where he belonged. It forged him, and now it called to him. It was good to be home.
 

Rath Exigo

Space Wizard
Character
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Attn: [member="Ra'a'mah"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Formorta"]
  • Windshear Keep
    Winter, Shrouded Republic

The Warden's lupine face contorted in anger and disgust when Ra'a'mah shot the Wolfguards like that. He had always disliked her overconfidence and her selfish streak, which, in his eyes, rendered her incapable of dedicating herself to any cause greater than her own profit, which, in to the Anubian, made her unworthy of the station which she occupied and the responsibility she had been given. Opening his mouth in a snarl revealed long, sharp fangs which seemed to gleam dangerously as he spoke.

"Wretched, treacherous, spineless worm," he said, his voice low and deep, a wolf-like growl. "You would tear down everything we have built here, just to increase your personal power. You are the lowest of all creatures, a vile abomination, unworthy of the very air you breathe," the Anubian insulted her, his hand drawing his lightsaber from his belt. "Tell me. Did you really think yourself so clever, that we wouldn't figure out what was going on? That the deaths of the Wolfguards on Vjun would go unnoticed, or that your dealings with Adron Malvern would not raise suspicions? Although we did not know when, or how, we knew you would betray us and prepared accordingly," he said, igniting his black-bladed lightsaber. Shifting his eyes to Vulpesen, the lupine creature seemed to measure Ra'a'mah's companion before speaking. "I am Rath Exigo. Crusader Lord of the Wardens of the Shroud," the Anubian spoke, revealing himself as one of the masters of the Shrouded Republic's enigmatic order of Force users. "Within the Shrouded Republic, we reserve only the worst punishments for creatures as lowly and vile as traitors, but you owe no allegiance to our nation, or the principles for which it stands. Know that you have walked here into a trap. Lay down your weapons and you shall be allowed to live," he said, pausing for a moment as the currents of the Darkside gathered around him, hissing and crackling as the energy built up, waiting to be unleashed.

"However. Should you choose to stand by this traitor, then you and your companions will find only death, here," the Anubian warned. "We will show you no more mercy than we showed the foul Galactic Empire at Tatooine, or the wretched cannibals on Dredd."

Discretely, the Warden tapped a button on his comlink twice, sending a silent, coded message to his reinforcements and to Formorta, the gesture hidden by his white cloak. The forces of the Shrouded Republic would unleash hell upon the traitor and rip her newfound wings right off her back, before she ever had the chance to spread them.

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OOC Note: Tacitus here, with my alternate character​
 
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