Dark Wings, Dark Words [Cryax]

[Darth Carnifex]

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The Sith-Imperial Star Destroyer, Herald​

En Route to Chiss Space​

​

The dagger-like shape of a Sith-Imperial Star Destroyer cut through the ethereal realm of hyperspace, it's purpose dark and sinister and shrouded in a veil of anger that permeated every level of the lumbering warship. It was the Herald, a vessel designated by the Voice of the Dark Lord Darth Vornskr to act as his Vessel's primary system of transport to carry out his will to any aspect within his sector of influence. Today it thundered towards the frontier of Sith space, a realm ruled by the aristocratic Chiss with generous autonomy and currently placed under the jurisdiction of Governor [member="Cryax Bane"]. But he was a puppet of a Sith, a sycophant planted by Darth Vornskr and his colleagues to keep a close eye on the Chiss for any sort of dissenting activity within Csilla society.

Darth Vornskr had let his minion operate with minimal oversight while he was dropping an iron curtain from Khomm to his homeworld of Panatha, effectively cutting off expansion into that region from anyone other than the Empire. That campaign was also accompanied by the ongoing war against the Republic, with two battles being fought at Contruum and Balmorra in the last few months alone. But when the fighting had subsided and the interim once again returned, Vornskr cast his gaze to the galactic north to look upon his puppet.

Suffice to say he was not happy.

And so he dispatched his most loyal agent, a man clad in crimson known as his Vessel. His personal messenger. Imperial ordained extension of his supreme will wherever his shadow fell, and bearer of destruction. And now his flagship entered Csilla orbit, the Herald alongside several smaller Imperial warships bursting out of hyperspace within sight of the icy homeworld of the Chiss.

The bridge crew would hail the local defense command first, a blue spectral image of the Vessel appeared before them with it's round reflective helmet. "Look upon me, and know that I am the Vessel of Darth Vornskr. His Imperial Magnificence has sent me to convene with Governor Bane. Prepare to welcome me." The transmission ended, the message clear and to the point with little divergence requested. An Imperial shuttle flanked by two starfighters would emerge from the Star Destroyer's hanger bay and would stream down towards the planet's surface.

No doubt Governor Bane would've been notified of the Vessel's arrival.

 

[Cryax Bane]

If [member="Darth Vornskr"] wanted to intimidate Cryax Bane, there were many ways the man could make that happen. The Imperial Star Destroyer and its halo of warships that shimmered out of hyperspace over Csilla, vessels belonging to the Butcher King of Panatha were not meant to intimidate the Chiss. They were meant to scare him karking chitless. Needless to say they did their jobs.

Upon notification of the warships and the cryptic summoning by the Vessel of Darth Vornskr, the Chiss sprang up out of his bed, a king-sized sleeper he was sharing with his new boyfriend and fellow crime lord [member="Malcom Langly"] who had accompanied him to Csilla for the weekend. Panic began to flood his veins. What did Kaine want with him that required the presence of warships? Hadn't he shown his loyalty to the One Sith by leading a battalion of troops and walkers to a very thin victory in the mountains of Contruum. Come to think of it, Bane had been noticeably shirking his duties as the Csillan governor and had done squat in terms of improvements and new developments for the One Sith in Chiss space. Cryax was a notorious hustler and charlatan. When Zambrano appointed him, he knew he wasn't getting a choir boy, so something wasn't quite adding up. All-in-all, he had a very bad feeling about all of it, and he was ridiculously tempted to simply flee and go into hiding.

"Malcom," he whispered to the sleeping human, voice shaking with anxiety. "I'm being heralded by the Voice of the Sector. I think we may need to run. Now."

[member="Vessel of Vornskr"] [member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Malcom stirred awake messy haired and bleary eyed. He didn't really have any idea what was going on . One minute he'd been dreaming of the time he tipped an old man in a wheelchair down a hill and into the path of a tour groups transport ... seven year old him was such a scamp ... the next he was being awoken by a rather stressed looking [member="Cryax Bane"]. Malcom sat up rubbing his eyes and trying to fathom just what was going on.

"Huh" Had been his first noise. A shocked Chiss so early in the day was not part of the weekend schedule.

He did finally come to his senses however, Cryax was shaken that was plain ... it seemed he was being heralded by a powerful entity in the one sith, taking his boyfriend's hand Malcom gave it a reassuring squeeze "Say the word and I'll follow you to the ends of the galaxy ... " That said running was not part of malcom's repertoire. Then he let go of the hand of his love and slid his legs from under the covers and limped over " ... I will however need to dress before we 'run' anywhere the spectacle will be hard enough without contending with scandalous looks " He remarked as he limped to the dresser to select clothing. Flashbacks of the time he got caught Karking by one of his past squeezes, He'd taken the man's dad Dad and the butler in the back bedroom, came flooding back. He'd bolted across a tennis court in animal print briefs that day ... it made the paper. Now was red a good colour to meet a voice in or would he be better in a blue shirt. "What did you do to upset this guy anyway?" He asked finally selecting a shirt. Now tie or no tie? Tough call ...

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The shuttle descended through the crisp blue and white atmosphere of Csilla, banking sharply around some low-bearing mountain ranges before finally coming to a hover above a landing pad that bordered the Chiss Parliament complex. The craft lowered itself onto the platform on two pairs of spider-like landing gears that gently touched the icy surface before the boarding ramp descended with the hiss and whine of creaking hydraulics, the edge bracing against the cold ground as warm air steamed out from the cabin. From within emerged the Vessel shrouded in a insulated robe of crimson that poured over his gangly frame and drug across the snow covered landing pad, a reflective helmet was firmly secured around his head and concealed all traces of his identity. He was flanked by two heavily armed Blackblade Guardsman who held their blaster rifles at attention and marched with an orderly gait, their faces were also concealed behind helmets (although these more resembled that of a Sith trooper's than a reflective surface).

A pair of Chiss soldiers stood at the entrance to the government complex, both armed as well as the two soldiers that flanked the Vessel. However; unlike them they both shrank from the Vessel, death and despair clung to his sickly form like an offensive stench. They had received orders to allow the Vessel and his entourage entry into the building, and quickly stepped aside to allow the three men entrance into the particularly warm complex. Wherever they went Chiss, men and women alike, quickly moved to get out of their way. Those that were too slow or were caught unaware were quickly disciplined by the two soldiers that escorted the Vessel received a brutal bash to the stomach or face by the hard butts of the soldier's rifle quickly followed by their apathetic words:

"Official Imperial business, stand aside."

They honed in on the Governor's private suite like a pack of Anoobas, quickly congregating outside of his door. The Vessel raised his right hand and pressed the button to the side of the door that would notify the occupant that they had visitors. However should they take too long to reply, the soldiers had half-a-mind to blow open the door.

And they had a very small threshold of patience.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

"What didn't I do, my love?" he quipped, feigned nonchalance failing to completely mask his worry. "One doesn't really need a good reason to piss off a psychopath like Kaine Zambrano."

Cryax decided that next time, if called upon by Kaine Zambrano's Vessel, that he would pick out Malcom's shirt for him. He knew that the Coruscanti crime lord liked to look his best, but dithering was costing them precious getaway time. Plus, there was the issue of getting his boyfriend out of the building fast. Due to his injury, the his beloved moved as quickly as a herd of turtles. Bane scratched his chin. Maybe he could just stick Malcom on a luggage hover-cart and push him to the speeder taxi station himself.

Bzzzzzzt!

A buzzer rang out signalling there was a visitor for him. Blast it! They were here already. Bane was just thankful that Nailgun was sleeping peacefully in his terrarium on the dresser. If the welcome party consisted of any Sith minions, at least they wouldn't be able to Force choke him or Malcom either. He tossed a blaster pistol to Malcom, scrambled for his charric rifle, and gave it a dramatic gun cock.

With his rifle lifted, he crept to the security terminal and reluctantly activating it, immediately hopping backwards. As the doors hissed open, the visitors would see a charric rifle aimed right at the door and a cornered Chiss, his boyfriend, and a snoring Ysalamir.

[member="Malcom Langly"] [member="Vessel of Vornskr"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Finally settling on violet, Malcom turned from the dresser leaning against it as he made himself presentable "I see" He smirked, an ex lover then perhaps? There was no Time for a tie So He swiftly pulled on a pair of trousers and hoped their guest would forgive his disheveled look. He smiled at [member="Cryax Bane"] 's fakery of nonchalance. That was better, His chiss lover was not all that sexy when he was shaken.

Cryax was of course right Malcom would win no races, somedays he couldn't even walk. Luckily for the pair Malcom's knee was behaving today, He could limp unaided and might be able to manage a brisk walk with the aid of his cane. A Luggage cart would therefore have no doubt been most helpful where their guests not already here. Given Cryax's reaction it seemed they were in a spot of bother in regards to this Zambrano Fellow. Why did he recognise that name? Curious had he once been involved with one? He was unsure no doubt sight of a face would spark recollection.

Malcom Jumped slightly at the noise of the buzzer, blast he hadn't even combed his hair.

Alas he would have to do, so as Cryax fumbled around for weapons Malcom put on a jacket and picked up his cane. then a blaster pistol came flying at him, he caught it first time obviously and swiftly held it behind his back. Little known fact but Malcom prided himself on being the best shot in Maycomb County ... well whatever room he happened to be in he supposed, about the only battle skill he had really. Then his Lover went to answer the door, worst weekend wake up ever Malcom thought to himself ... and he'd once been involved in a dawn raid on a house of ill fame.

Stuffing the gun into his waistband as the door swished open to reveal a 'thing' in an art deco get up and two guards Malcom smiled. "Cryax Put the gun down you're being rude to your guests" He ordered in a firm tone. They could hardly take them in a straight firefight now could they? Better to play nice till the opportunity arose. bringing his hand out from behind his back "Malcom Langly, Mr. Banes Banker" He smiled, Half Lying. Of course Cryax was not depositing money with Malcom but that was ill fitting to 'polite' conversation

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Thankfully for both Cryax and his 'guest' the door had opened before the trio became impatient, and thus no structural damage would be dealt out.

For now, at least.

The first to enter was the Vessel, the expressions of both Cryax and Malcom reflected in the curved smoothness of his helmet as the room's light glinted off of it's reflective surface. Behind him came the two guards, and all three of them strategically placed themselves between the Governor and the door. The Vessel was also the first, and only, of the entourage to speak to the Imperial Governor: "Governor Bane." The creature's voice was synthetic and grating, a mix between a sickly man's whisper and the inhuman monotone of a droid. He gestured to the second man who introduced himself, "Mr. Langly, how unfortunate you came to be here on this evening, we have pressing business with Governor Bane." The smallest of gestures and the guard on the Vessel's right raised up his blaster rifle and aimed it squarely at Malcom, but held his position despite the overwhelming desire to pull the trigger.

"If you'd be so kind as to vacate, you'd save us the trouble of including you in our talks." There was a sinister emphasis on the word talks, one that even was clearly audible through the creature's artificial voice. Any resistance would be met with...

Brutal repercussions.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Bane was usually quite sycophantic around Sith Lords, with the exception of Reverance who treated him more like a good pal than a frenemy, but with Malcom present, an alpha dog protectiveness reared its head. When the Vornskr's motley crew stepped in the room. Cryax's arms tightened as he held the CEDF Standard charric rifle steady, aiming it squarely at the speaker. The metallic voice of the [member="Vessel of Vornskr"] was like sandpaper on his eardrum. What the frell was that thing anyway? It certainly wasn't human but did not seem completely machine either. No move was made to drop his weapon.

"Tell Kaine I said his intimidation tactics are tacky," he scoffed, with his aim still trained on the vessel. "And you'd better believe when the Wrath finds out about this, he won't be pleased."

A blaster was raised at Malcom and he turned his aim to the guard on the vessel's right. "Mister Langly stays," he insisted, squinting at Kaine's sickening minion and his cohorts. "Whatever you need to tell me, you can tell me with my banker present. And get that weapon off of him!"

[member="Vessel of Vornskr"] [member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

This vessel was quite imposing and that voice it was vile. A voice which told dark tails of the man he served, who in their right mind would want such a person as their voice if not a complete sociopath. Daunting as that man was Malcom was not going anywhere, Cryax would not be left with his flank exposed not if Malcom could help it "Of course My Lord, I would hate to interrupt ... " He smiled and bowed his head "Sorry I can't show you the respect you are owed but my knee prevents due deference being shown" He stepped forward and made a turn to Cryax "Governor ... " He began a pleading look at his boyfriend and then there it was. He coughed " I would never seek to cause trouble .... But your will is my command" He smiled ... good boy ...

Then back to the red cowled 'vessel' "I appologise profusely my lord but I can't defy the governor ... contracts and red tape longer than your cloak, I assure you however that my discretion is legendary ... It will be as if I were never here" He sighed. and walked back to the dresser and leant on it hands out infront of him gripping the top of his cane "Cryax calm down, His lordship is just being cautious I'm not worth wasting a shell I'm just a cripple with an eye for discrepancy" He replied "Put your rifle down you're making us all tense" Don't put down that gun.

He would not speak again unless spoken too. This was not his circus was it? He hoped not Malcom hated clowns especially clowns that come in threes.

[member="Cryax Bane"] [member="Vessel of Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"My message." spoke the Vessel, the left soldier now raising his rifle to aim directly at Cryax while the other kept his aim centered on Mr. Langly. "Is not tailored for him." He took a threatening step forward, such a quick and nimble movement that carried with it a great deal of weight and authority. "I have come for you, Cryax Bane. I am the harbinger of His will, through me he sees all that I see, hears all that I hear, and he is unimpressed with your current defiance." The echoes of a whisper floated on the breeze, and the Vessel craned his neck as if straining to hear it's miasmic tone. He shifted his gaze from Cryax to Malcom, "But perhaps you could still serve a purpose... with the proper motivation."

Within a fraction of a second both soldiers moved in full synchronization.

The right Blackblade suddenly covered the distance between himself and Langly in an instant, swinging his rifle around to bring the butt on a collision course with the man's midsection. The left Blackblade took a single step forward, aimed his rifle down several degrees, and squeezed the trigger. A glob of energy belched out from his rifle through the air towards Cryax's right leg directed towards his lower thigh or right in the knee. A sword emerged from the billowing confines of the Vessel's being, a sword forged from darkness and given malign purpose by the vilest of sorceries. Faint screams radiated from the blade's edge, the faint outlines of screaming skulls could be seen running along the steel.

The Vessel held aloft this blade in one hand and pointed the tip towards Cryax, "You would be wise to drop your weapon."

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Of course, Zambrano wanted to tighten the leash on him. Knowing the man as well as he did, a crackdown was inevitable. Cryax had been shirking many of his duties as Imperial governor of Csilla, mostly to make sure that the CRC wasn't running itself into the ground. He'd also gone traipsing off to Isis for a few trysts with a handsome slaver there. The Chiss was spread too thin to keep an eye on the Chiss home world, and it showed in the minor rebellions that had begun to crop up in the Csaplar streets. It wasn't as if his heart had been in it in the first place.

As soon as the Blackblade moved towards Malcom, swinging his rifle around, Cryax narrowed his glowing red eyes and fired, the sound of the charric rifle reverberating ferociously throughout the room. At point blank range, aiming for the officer's arm, there was little doubt the Chiss would blow a hole in the Blackblade's arm before the butt of the man's rifle reached his lover's midsection.

As the glob of energy seared into his knee, he crumpled over with a scream. His wounded cybernetic knee began to spark and wires protruded from the melting blue synth-flesh. The tip of a sword glinted a few inches away from his neck, and wincing Bane dropped his rifle with a clatter. On his hands and knees on the floor, the Chiss raised an angry red gaze to the Vessel.

"A-alright, alright. I'll go where ever you want me to, gorram it." His breath came in huffs as his knee burned with agony. Still, despite the pain, a smirk spread across his face.

"If I didn't know you'd better Kaine, I'd say you were jealous."

[member="Vessel of Vornskr"] [member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Malcom was not sacred of this vessel ... he was terrified. From the voice to the threats this 'thing' had malcom's heart going double speed "Anything you require my Lord" He replied voice shaking slightly. Why couldn't life be simple? He gulped, gritted his teeth and put more weight on the dresser as the Black blade approached. This was going to hurt and they would likely find the gun when he fell , Kark it all. What had [member="Cryax Bane"] done to warrant all this? He should have listened to his mother 'Don't date politicians' he dying words. Twas after all the politicians that killed her.

He pressed his eyes shut as the Black blade lifted his rifle casting a shadow over Malcom, so this is how I go killed by a 'Man?' in uniform? He thought to himself, not a bad way all things considered but the blow never came. Instead the noise of a Charric rifle rippled through the air. Cryax? Malcom opened his eye no it was the guard. That was a better ... no , a secound shot rang out and he watched his chiss lover fall to his knees.

He was much to slow to go to the man's side and much to scared to say anything but he did kick the rifle that had been aimed at his midsection under the bed, the guard now somewhat concerned by both the pain of the hit and the subsequent electric charge that was coursing through his armour.

Then he looked back over to Cryax concern in his eye, he looked so small with The [member="Vessel of Vornskr"] towering over him sword draw. Then Cryax acquiesced and agreed to go wherever was demanded of him . Surely then it was safe to go to his man's side, so that's what he did. Kneeling beside the chiss and causing himself no end of pain. His hand rubbing his lover's back "You ought to stand now Mr. Bane, Do you need assistance?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Guard let out a roar as Cryax's rifle shot seared the durasteel plating on his arm, causing him to reel back and bash into the wall behind him; his weapon slipping from his grip from the jolt and falling to the ground. However; the armor the Blackblade Guardsman wore was high resilient and made to weather harsh energy damage, but even still Cryax managed to hit a spot that was weaker than most of the armor plating that covered the trooper's body. The other soldier and the Vessel paid the wounded trooper no mind, the former's rifle firmly affixed on both Cryax and Malcolm while the Vessel kept his sword pointed at Cryax's throat. "How foolish of you, Mr. Bane. Shooting an ordained Imperial soldier is punishable by death, you know. But... You know yourself that death isn't the worse thing that can be inflicted on your person, and you know very well what my Master can do to a soul. Mr. Langly, since you are so persistent in including yourself in this one's punishment, then you can help him up."

But first...

The Vessel turned his blade in his hands, and pressed the flat end of the steel up against Cryax's cheek. The blade was enchanted with Devaronian Blood-Poison, and even the slightest application of the metal to one's bare skin resulting in blistering agony that could bring a grown man to his knees and weep.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

“Yes, darling,” said the Chiss, raising a distressed gaze to Malcom who was soothingly rubbing his back. He was embarrassed that his lover had to witness to such an abhorrent display of cruelty towards him. “If you could help me up that would be…Ggggggh!”

Jolting, white-hot pain surged through his face, and the injured Chiss let out a soundless scream. He felt like his skin was being ripped off of his cheek. The pain was so bad his vision blurred. His face. The karker maimed his face. He was going to murder Kaine if he got his hands on the man.

“Make it stop! Please!” he begged. “I’ll go quietly! Just take me to fething Zambrano already you mother-karker!”

[member="Vessel of Vornskr"] [member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

"Of course My Lord" Malcom replied, through pain gritted teeth, to the man in red. He would admit that he was scared , no terrified of this vessel. Cryax was scared too which worried him even further , he'd never seen the chiss reduced to such a state before. He was usually so cocky and devil may care. Just who was this Zambrano fellow ?

He put his arm under cryax's and was about to support him as they both stood only the messenger or whatever he was put his sword to cryax's cheek. Nothing major he didn't think only Immense pain seemed to contort his lover's face. Cryax couldn't even scream, Malcom recoiled pain pulsing in his knee and as the sword was brought away he almost gagged, His poor dear. Cryax was begging for the pain to stop and Malcom had no clue what to do. He didn't comprehend such weapons, they went over his head. So he did the only thing he could.

Returning to cryax's side he helped him to rise, hugging him close as both the crippled men struggled to stand. They managed however through grit or fear , he didn't care which it was.

"There we are Mister Bane" He whispered, would that he could wish this nightmare over.

Malcom had hoped standing would make him feel less weak but it didn't they were still at the mercy of this monster. If they lived the day Malcom reasoned that his Cryax would need a lot of nursing, Malcom had once fancied himself a male nurse ... he was informed his bedside manner was inappropriately forward however.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Move."

He gestured with his sword towards the door of which all three agents of Vornskr had entered the chamber, the uninjured guard move to angle himself slightly behind both Cryax and Malcom with his weapon trained on the former's back. The injured guard shakily rose to his feet, his wound now only trailing smoke. He reached down and plucked up Cryax's rifle which he mistook for his own that Malcom had kicked underneath their bed only moments before. He too then took up position behind the crippled duo, his weapon trained on Malcom's back.

"Remember" spoke the Vessel, "You brought this upon yourself."

How vehemently he spoke of this was more likely an input from Vornskr rather than the Vessel himself, who was nearly incapable of producing any legitimate emotion other than complete obedience to the man who had maimed him and made him into the red-cloaked specter that he was now. He gestured again with the sword, more urgently this time and the two guards also pushed forward with their weapons, each one never wavering from being aimed at each of their backs.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

First the two men were taken from the frosty world of Csilla to board to the Vessel's Star Destroyer. With weapons still stuck against their backs, they jumped through hyperspace, and emerged in the Unknown Regions where the Herald would meet Darth Vornskr's vessel, Ruination. The craft had just been engaged with a small fleet of pirates, and Zambrano's crew were busy assessing the minimal damage to the ship.

Finally the two prisoners were marched to the detention area of the ship where they awaited the Sith Lord. Cryax's cybernetic knee had malfunctioned so badly, that he could barely walk, and Malcom was already a cripple, so it took ages.

Cryax's face was throbbing with pain, and a large swatch of raw burn had appeared on his skin where the poison infected it. Out of all the times he'd been tortured and beaten, no one had ever touched his beautiful face. So clearly this meant war for the Chiss.

But his worry over his face was nothing compared to his concern for his handsome Malcom. Luckily, the holding cell had a shallow bench, and both men could rest for a moment. Cryax put his arm around Malcom and ran his fingers through the other man's hair.

"How are you holding up, ch'eo ch'acah?" he asked morosely.

[member="Malcom Langly"] [member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Lucien Cordel]

Malcom nodded as he was ordered to move.

He limped along beside cryax staying close to his lover. He wanted to hold his hand but alas he could not. He was disorientated by the whole experience and just went where he was ordered. He was tense and his knee flared but he stayed upright. He was glad to get to the holding cell a chance to sit down. Glader still of the contact from his chiss. He sighed and relaxed back into the chiss's hands. Letting the soft stroking of his hair.

"I'm surviving sweetie" He sighed "They didn't touch me, you must be sore?" He asked in return laying his head on the chiss's shoulder "At least you'll have a story to tell about your face" He chuckled then frowned his knee was sore. He wanted to go home.

"I think you need cheering up Cryax ... " He started nuzzling into his lover's shoulder "Touch my butt" He added with a smile. He still had the small blaster tucked away in the small of his back a gun which he hoped would please cryax. His man needed something to smile about today.

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Starships blossomed out of existence as lines of green traced the black void of space, only to be met by similar crimson lines that did significantly less damage that their emerald counterparts. It was another insignificant skirmish with the miscreants of the Unknown Regions, who constantly sought to oppose him at every turn. When a inhabited world was discovered by the Sith-Imperial Colonial Corps, probes were sent to assess the civility of it's population and the strength of it's military. Then an Imperial emissary was sent to deliver an ultimatum to the leading authority on the planet, submit to Imperial rule or be wiped from existence. So far every planet they've come across has been passionately disobedient and fought against the Imperial yoke that had descended upon their hapless little existence. And so far every planet had been quelled through mass genocide brought on by planetary bombardment.

This new world had not changed that dynamic, and when the Imperial emissary was refused and executed they launched a fleet of crude warships to combat the state-of-the-art Black Iron Warfleet. When the Star Destroyer Herald entered the system it caught the end of the battle that had followed, the last native warship exploding in a brilliant flash of orange light as one of the Ruination's broadside cannons cut through its hull and ignited its insides. The smoldering debris drifted down as it was caught in the planet's gravity well, becoming a shower of destruction that crashed down onto the planet's surface with detrimental effects to the planet's ecosystem.

It paled in comparison to what was to come.

Already the ring of warships moved into position to create a halo around the equator of the planet, weapon systems training on the most populated sectors of the planet. After an unbearable moment of silence the first shot seared through the airless vacuum, and quickly enough the surface of the planet was dotted by explosions that seemed so small from space but were actually raging storms of hellfire that scoured all life in it's destructive wake. Soon enough the planet would be reduced to a barren wasteland, it's surface scarred by canyons rent by the Sith's warships and overly active with volcanic activity. None who lived on the planet survived, but now it was ripe for rapid industrial colonization.

With that trivial matter put to rest, Darth Vornskr retired from the bridge and made his way down to the Ruination's brig. Outside of the cell stood two stoic Blackblade Guards, their weapons held at chest-level and their movements minimal as if they were statues. However; when their Lord's imposing shape reached their view they quickly bowed in devotion, and quickly unlocked the chamber to allow him entrance. Darth Vornskr's form took up the entire cell threshold which was quickly closed behind him as he entered, and he was left alone with his disobedient minion and his latest piece of candy. Vornskr was dressed like that of a commander rather than a battlefield warrior, and the crisp Imperial tunic clung to his muscular frame and seemed like it would rip if he moved too quickly. Likewise his movements were slow and methodical, his eyes piercing as he glared at Cryax specifically.

"You disappoint me, Cryax."

[member="Cryax Bane"]
[member="Malcom Langly"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

With Kaine's soldiers still keeping a stoic eye on them, Cryax turned towards his lover and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"My face feels like it's on fire," he said mournfully. "And my whole leg stopped working." The Chiss raised a blue-black brow at Malcom when his boyfriend told him to "touch his butt."

"Uh, I don't think this is the time or place, babe," he said, but regardless he ran his hand along the other man's thigh, moving it to his nicely-shaped rump. "Oh." There was a pistol there, one that the soldiers must have missed. A smirk lifted the side of his lips. His Malcom was so clever.

Soon there was the sound of a blast door hissing open and in came the Butcher King himself, Kaine Zambrano, more commonly known as [member="Darth Vornskr"], a man who'd both loved him and tortured him in equal measure. The Sith magic in his bloodstream screamed in his cells as it surged towards its wielder. How he hated that feeling. Vornskr's booming barritone spoke of disappointment. Cryax let out a long sigh and absently rubbed his malfunctioning leg. If Kaine expected grovelling, he had another thing coming.

"Let's just get this farce over with Kaine," he said with a sneer. "I have a planet to run."

[member="Malcom Langly"]