Darth Voyance
Dark Saint of the Sith
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Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Skirmish Duel of Faiths [Warlords of the Sith Story Campaign|Episode I]-[Check OOC]
- Thread starter Darth Voyance
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Darth Voyance
Dark Saint of the Sith
The Weeks After the Battle of Bastion
Deep Within Darth Voyance’s Dark Praxeum
Qotsisajakaar Dark Fortress World Sepulcher
Tingel Arm, Outer Rim
The growling hums of Darth Voyance’s crimson double-sided lightsaber echoed a low melodic beat. Rattling plasma shook from the blades as the Mustafarian Kyber Crystal fumed like a furnace, spitting plasmatic embers in bright specks. The Rutian Sith Lady stood crouched in an on-guard battle stance. The long dark metal of her hilt was tucked under her armpit as the arm that wielded it gripped the center. Her other hand was extended outwards, parallel to her legs with the palm pressed upright and forward. Small beads of sweat trickled down her cheeks, rounding her chin and dripping onto her chest. She had removed her flowing coat and dark robes beneath, leaving only the straps that bound her chest and the black baggy trousers beneath, tucked into tall armored boots.
Stalking her position at the center of the Training Meditation Chamber were a trio of training droids. Outfitted with the collective data of Saber Forms and known Jedi Combat Techniques, they brandished phrik-lined electro-blades. Arching blue streaks of electric discharge danced around the blades and replied to the hums of Voyance’s lightsaber with their own roaring snaps and hisses. They encroached upon Voyance’s free space, slowly nearing the perimeter of her reach. Pausing at the very precipice they sunk into their own battle stances through slight micro-movements, methodically programmed and calculated to mimic the disciplined precision of a Jedi.
Voyance narrowed her eyes, focusing their gilded gleam at each droid. She pursed her blackened lips and expelled a soft stream of hot breath - and struck first. Propelling her body forward she leapt into a lateral aerial spin, churning her body in a blur of black and red. Landing, she caught the first droid’s frontal slash with the body of her crimson blade, locking the strikes together in a collision of momentums. She leaned into her blade, pressing herself against the droid. But, the attack was a feint. Designed to make her appear vulnerable to an attack from behind - a trap that the second droid darted into with a thrust aimed to skewer her through the shoulder blades. Voyance ducked. Plummeting into a tight ball on the floor, she lashed out with a sweeping leg.
Her boot, with its armored shin guards, caught the droid’s ankle and lifted it off the floor. As it tumbled down, Voyance completed the spin of her sweep and back-flipped over the collapsed droid to land on her feet behind it. The first droid followed, leaping over its fallen comrade as the third now timed his attack to match the first’s. The two came in as a pincer strike. Voyance spun on her heel and braced both attacks by catching each blade with the two of her double-sided saber. The weight of the droids pressed into her hold, applying their gear and wire musculature’s actuators to increase the applied power of their strikes. Voyance’s resistance began to buckle. She shoved the droid’s aside, twirled the saber in her hand creating a spinning shield from follow up strikes before shunting to the side.
A droid’s blade caught her about the rib in the exchange. The electricity scorched a black blotch on her blue skin, adding to the pattern of many other deep bruises and burn marks that covered her body from countless previous training runs. Voyance stumbled and was set upon by the droids. But their attacks were frozen in place. Voyance had broken her melee training rule and used the Force. She used the Dark Side. With her open palm, she gripped the droids and began to crush them. Bolt by bolt, plate by plate, wire by wire, they began to snap, crumple and burst. Voyance’s teeth were clenched like a cornered beast, her nostrils flared and her eyes wide open. She poured her rage into her grip and pulled the droids into each other. Clattering together they exploded into sparks and fire before spraying the chamber’s floor with debris and scrap.
Voyance, irritated by her own weakness, screamed a shrill roar and fell to her knees. Her grip loosened and the Dark Side bleed from her power, as her lightsaber retracted its red blades and the chamber fell silent. Now only the deep panting breathes of her own trembling body gave sound to the invisible war that raged around her in the Force. Voyance hung her head low. Staring back at her from the polished obsidian floor was her darkened reflection. It was plagued with strain and twitching glares. Disgusted Voyance violently ripped the Force to her fist and punched the tile under her. It shattered into a dust plume of cracked stone and wreckage.
“Distracted you are,” a deep wheezing voice called to her. “Disjointed from the Dark Side you have become, Lady Voyance.”
“What do you want,” Voyance said.
“Come to punish you I have, Voyance,” the Elder replied, continuing, “Displeased am I in your foolishness.”
“Foolishness!” Voyance snapped, turning around and lunging onto her feet.
She strode over to the stout dark master and loomed over him like a monolith. Her eyes met his angered look. From beneath his own wrinkled furrowed brow the Elder smacked his lips and shook his head once more.
“I sense great fear in you, Darth Voyance,” the Elder began, using her title like an insult. “Afraid are you, afraid of what you have seen and what may be. The events of Bastion, plague your mind they have...for some time.”
“Fear is a tool,” Voyance said, “Fear keeps focus, fights arrogance and short-sightedness. Only fools ignore their fears and wield the illusion of being infalable.”
“Arrogance, hmph,” the Elder parroted as he waddled over. “Arrogant you are Voyance. Like the Imperial Sith you despise you have become...arrogant and foolish.”
Voyance ignited her saber and stabbed it in an accusatory thrust towards the Elder. Its rippling burning tip was not far from the Elder’s own stumpy nose.
“Do not compare me to those vestigial consorts! You bog infesting imp!” screamed Voyance.
The Elder moved his cane and stepped forward. His burning red visage passed through the saber and crept closer to Voyance. Voyance began to retreat, she had felt the cold fire of his fury before. A power that was rooted deep in the dark side, deeper and more powerful than any of the so-called Dark Lords of the Sith that currently commanded the Sith Empire. No profane or superficial displays of perverse spells or magic. The power of the Elder was the natural power of the Dark Side itself.
When the Elder reached Voyance he batted the bulbous top of his cane on her head. Although the motion was that of a small tap the very force of its landing came with the blow of a Force blast. The moment the cane touched Voyance’s cheek she was thrown into the floor. She crashed into the tiles and cracked them. Her head ricocheted off the debris as her body followed and she rolled away, sliding across the platform. Her nose bloodied, her lips and face bruised Voyance was too disorientated to get up. She began to crawl away, clawing at the floor to gain some distance from her disappointed master.
“Running away, you are,” the Elder snarled at her. “From me, as you do now, you did then.”
Voyance coughed up blood and gagged on her choking breaths. She reached out to grab her saber but the Elder tapped the end of his cane onto the floor and the rebounding echo exploded into a Force Push that launched Voyance into a wall. As if an artillery shell had gone off she was cast from the floor like a leaf in the wind and bombarded the wall like a blaster round out of a rifle. She struck the wall and fell in a heap onto a Sith Incense vase, shattering it and spreading the fragrant gravel ash that filled it. By the time Voyance could roll off the debris and ruin, the Elder had materialized on her. He stood on her chest and used the end of his cane to pin her head to the floor, with its tip planted on her forehead.
“Hide you do, here, in this tomb built for yourself you have,” the Elder chastised. “Blinded by your gift of sight, you have become. Content with watching you are. Stagnate...and arrogant.”
“I cannot strike now, I have seen the right time,” Voyance tried to say between spitting blood, “The Dark Side guides me to that moment...I cannot disobey.”
“Fool!” the Elder barked. “Nothing, the Dark Side has shown you. Only your fears.”
“Much promise I see in you,” the Elder said, “But, blind you have become my pupil. Move you must, or die here you will,” the Elder threatened, “Break your mind into pieces I will. A waste you will turn.”
Voyance gritted her teeth and succumbed to her fearful rage. She pulled the Dark Side to her, let it fester in her soul and she spat it back out in a violent thrash of her palms. They bashed the spaced near them and the Dark Side howled back in a pressurized blast. The air around Voyance was crushed and propelled in a shockwave that rippled through the chamber, even disturbing the Force Projection of the Elder. It scrambled his appearance into a fine dark mist.
“Enough!” Voyance screamed.
The twi’lek kicked up her feet and leapt back onto them. She corrected herself and searched for where the Elder would materialize next. But, she found nothing, only the results of her own destructive outburst. The Elder was still there, she could feel his disdain but also his empowerment. It was the Elder who had freed Voyance of the blinding and crippling loyalty she had wasted on the Empire, his revelations fed her own. He was her true master, even now with all the power she had gained.
“Awoken again you have Voyance,” the Elder’s disembodied voice whistled in the dark. “Begun the Duel of Faiths have. Prepared you must be. Return you must, to the galaxy’s wars.”
“The Dark Saint of the Sith, you must transform yourself, if you are to survive,” whispered the Elder’s last words.
When his oppressive presence faded from the Dark Praxeum Voyance released a loud sigh and fell back to her knees. The hiss of the doors opening announced her apprentice the Sith Knight Siqsa Kun’s rushed entry. The Vong experimented with Sith-Pureblood ran to her master and knelt before her.
“My lady are you alright,” Siqsa asked, “I sensed...a terrible destruction here.”
Voyance, her head down, and busy with controlling her breathing did not look to Siqsa when she replied. “No,” Voyance growled, “I am not, red one.”
She raised her head and a deep fury boiled beneath their Sith corrupted golden shimmering.
“Call the Knights,” Voyance hissed, “And you, red one, I am sending you back to the edges of New Imperial space.”
“What for your darkness?” Siqsa said.
“Find, Kascalion,” said Voyance.
The Weeks After Bastion
Entering New Imperial Space
Heading towards Unnamed Moon Near PL-40112-CE-021105 | Hallowed Grave
“Here we are at the very threshold of life and death. We march forth to meet our final hours to live life anew beyond the web. Prepare. For today, as with all days past, we face a thousand deaths. Here we are at the very threshold of life and death. We march forth to meet our final hours to live life anew beyond the web. Prepare. For today, as with all days past, we face a thousand deaths.”
The mantra was repeated for nearly an hour in pitch-perfect harmony as the priests surrounded the silent shadowed figure and the altar he knelt before. He knew them by occupation and origin, but not by name, for such a gift had been taken from them upon their conversion. Dressed in red robes of the finest linens and silks, they were men and women of races both known and unknown to the Galaxy at large. Their purpose? To join him and empower his ritual. Black and purple and pink streams of unholy power extended forth from their clasped and scabbed hands, coalescing above the kneeling figure into an orb itself belching out flares of darkness. The figure himself began to shudder and shake as the orb began to lower, closer and closer to the crown of his hooded head, the flares lashing out like whips.
Closer.
He could feel the power beginning to envelope him, his vision becoming darker as the orb began to consume him like a toothless maw. And then the world shifted into something...different. Something far from here, hidden from most eyes, yet discoverable by all if they had the will to search for it. A land of the dead, great crags reaching into the moonlit sky, and pale glowing grass stretching out into the horizon beyond the wastes he now knelt it. He looked up towards the heavens, his empty sockets affixed onto the three moons in a curved line bearing faces of joy, stoicism, and despair. A sound in the distance drew his gaze, towards the grass, and something in it.
He rose from his knees and stepped forward, his bare feet disturbing the soft marrow of this earth’s bones, the dust of it rising into the airless air. A howl pierced his ears and his gaze turned North-Westward, towards what lay in the grass. A great fallen ship upon which slithered a formless mass of black ooze, pulsating with occasional streaks of electricity that revealed it to be absent features. Then, from the peak of the slowly moving mass, three elongated necks with eyeless, noseless, and earless fanged heads sprouted up into the air and looked directly at the figure invading their realm. They howled, together, and laughed like scraping metal. The shadowed figure howled back and shot his arms out, welcoming the beast into an embrace.
The three heads looked at each other and laughed again. Then the mass grew eight hooved legs and charged, galloping like a steed of legend. Roaring. Howling.
“What are you doing, Kavar?” a man in the doorway suddenly asked, the priests and the orb and the world vanishing from sight in a single blink of the eye.
The shadowed figure growled low and deep for the question was inane, his thumbs running softly over the emerald-gemmed amulet resting against his palms in irritation. The dim light of the room’s few candles caught on the gem embedded in the stone and briefly flashed against his face, illuminating a portion of his skeletal visage. The man could not see it and the shadowed figure gave no answer.
“What are you doing?” the man asked once again, voice taught with knowing glee at the tensions he was creating.
Of course the shadowed figure knew what he was doing and the purpose it carried from this day forth, but he spoke no words still. He only furrowed his non-existent brows in response to the question and turned to the man, who was taller than he by a head.
But he was dead, a specter clad in phantasmal armor from a begotten age. It was his father, his true father, from all those years ago, who sired and raised him in the Dead Lands of Credence and whose spirit had been latched to his son since the Ascendancy took Credence. It was he who was the originator and former bearer of the name Kascalion, which the current owner had discovered during the studies of his people meant: Leader. Leader. A role he had not originally desired during his most recent, and perhaps longest, incarnation in this universe. But it was a role he took out of necessity to ensure the legacy of the Skator Hai, and the future of the Sith, were safe and secure.
“Answer me, boy,” his father again demanded, taking a step forward into the room. “What are you doing?”
The specter vanished and Kascalion looked around frantically, empty sockets searching for any sign of the man, but finding nothing but candles, dark incense, and an altar. Servants entered with haste upon hearing the commotion, bowing in reverence and inquiring as to what assailed their master so. The fleshy skeleton turned to the robed curs and snarled, causing them to drop to the floor pleading for mercy for any affront they may have committed. The titan of mysticism quickly grunted, dismissing them and watching with abject irascibility as they left the room on hand and knee backward.
Moving slowly from the doorway which slid shut with an ominous and high-pitched whistle, Kascalion approached the altar that he stood at before the specter’s untimely arrival. He stopped only briefly to pick up the stone amulet from the solid-steel floor and placed it back on the woodwork which rested on a wrought-iron pillar.
Further upon this woodwork were carvings in the Sith Language and the Skator Hai language, sayings from the old books found throughout the Galaxy and the Sith Worlds that now faced sieges on all fronts. The Living Crystals in a multitude of shapes and sizes and powers laid upon these carvings in intricate patterns, runic symbols of the Sith, to power each other with magnetic fields of conflict. Of the twelve on the altar, five were corrupted and three were pure and four were in-between - each taken from Sith and Jedi that had fallen under the crimson blades of the Ascendancy. He ran his fingers over each one, feeling their power and their burning sensations, the edges of his fingertips singed from those three standing against the Dark. They would succumb soon and serve that which they went to war with like their kin.
And held within these patterns and resting over the remaining carvings was a book, black-leather bound with uncountable pages and a small green triangle pressed in the center of the cover. Most interesting and infuriatingly was that it was sealed shut by a ritual decades prior. He had learned this after torturing its now deceased keeper, rent apart at the joints. As he was told, the ritual was performed for three days and nights to forever silence the evil within and keep it asleep, whatever it was. Kascalion, devilish in all facets of his life, intended on freeing that evil for either servitude or consumption.
Either benefited him.
But that was not his main point of focus on this altar. That belonged to his weapons, his lightsabers. One from the Respite and one from his proxy brother Lorale of the Koignalteth, who Kascalion himself once called his people before unlocking his memories. Modified extensively by their smiths and priests, the weapon of his brother had been blessed with the dying essences of the Koignalteth “God,” Typhon Dlukav. A god who personally led a vast funeral for its deceased owner upon finally learning of his death some weeks prior and was then slain that same day by said owner’s brother, earning him both fear and allegiance of the Koignalteth. While still functional as a standard lightsaber in almost every facet, its crystal no longer held the restrictions of others and channeled the full might of its homeworld.
The blade from the Respite, on the other hand, was anything but a normal lightsaber, and was not entirely comparable to Sith weapons either. Beyond being a lightwhip, it possessed the rare Barab Ingot crystal which produced a semi-clear and burning blade that was so hot, it risked setting even the wielder on fire. It was also strangely barbarically elegant in design, the hilt resembling a religious draconic beast more than a lightsaber's and bore a strange and seemingly pointless fanged prongs on the base of the pommel. In actuality, these prongs were integral to the function of the fearsome blade by way of the power they held. While the blade did possess soul manipulation capabilities similar to most other Sith weapons, rather than consume souls to strengthen its connection to the Dark Side, like Sith warblades, it eradicated them entirely from perceivable existence. Essentially, the blade would wrap around its victims and pull their soul into oblivion whilst ripping their body apart. This power was cast upon each killing blow from the prongs, which were in fact similar to satellites and relayed the power across the starts from its origin of creation.
When further compared to the intent and powers of the hell pit from which it originated, this was a stark contrast. Kascalion had gained much from the Respite, all of which possessed an anchor in the art of pulling the lifeforce from his victims and depositing it into the Nexus. For what purpose the Nexus had for these souls, he hadn’t the faintest idea, nor was he sure he wanted to at the present hour. To have a weapon given to him by the very thing that desired that which the weapon so grievously destroyed was...concerning.
Perhaps because of this concern, the man's harsh red hands reached not for the cold hilt of the Respite's blade and instead for the blade of his brother, crafted from obsidian. Due to the size of the man who once wielded it, it was a hefty thing, large enough to serve as a lightclub for smaller combatants. Yet, it felt as comfortable in the new owner's grip as any other blade. He sighed, a hissing sound, and hooked it to his belt by its looped pommel, feeling it swing for a moment before falling static in the air. He would leave the blade of his brother for another day.
His focus then turned to the item adorning the crown of the altar: a helmet made from the melted manganese of his ancient sword discovered in the ruins of Credence, painted purple and topped with a royal sideways crest. As with the rest of the Sith’ari’s armaments, it offered very little in the way of environmental protection as other helmets do. What it did offer was a variety of physical protections gained from the spells performed upon it by his sorcerers. Much of these defenses were geared towards ranged attacks to compensate for his lack of effective defense against them, allowing him to continue fighting without worry of his skull taking a full undefended blaster round.
Fixing the helmet over his head to the mechanized neck of his battle plate, itself equally as regal and molded over his body like mesh, Kascalion swiftly exited the dim room and entered the maze of halls that comprised the Hallowed Grave. With each step, alchemized stone encased him in a mobile tomb that moved in space like a water-bound serpent. While serviceable for the actions its creator was just performing in the sanctity of his austere chambers, it was more or less a weapon’s platform, composed of hundreds of powerful weapons, including thirty-six Hell Projectors that were capable of destroying continents with ease. In addition were four replicas of the fabled Scythe Weapons once belonging to the Teljkon Vagabond of the Qella survivors. Truly, the ship was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. The only one of its kind currently available to the Sith of the Dread Ascendancy.
His silent admiration of his own work quickly turned sour as he ran into a figure that he still had to get used to running into.
To the Autarch, this was a powerful individual whose might was almost physically visible in the material world. And their presence aboard this ship made even the Devil tense in worry.
"Colrin," Kascalion greeted coldly, his voice slow and beyond unearthly now. Changed, into something barely definable in understandable contexts of vocal inflections of capabilities. It was telepathic, given the man’s lack of lips and tongue, and sounded thunderous and wet like a rainstorm yet simultaneously burnt and syrupy like flowing magma. Capping it off was the underlayer of a chorus, as if he had an extra voice or two extra voices under and around his primary - a whisper and a growl. "What business do you have to stop me in these halls?"
"A matter of urgency, Autarch Giedfield," the Koignalteth stated equally as cold yet with true sincerity, and an uncompromising rigid tone. "The Pureblood known as Sisqa Kun nears."
The man thought for a moment. "Report," he grunted before moving on his original path. "And walk."
The Dus Valors followed, stepping softly yet proudly and with purpose. "Preliminary contact reveals that she wishes to converse with you. While her true reasoning has yet to be revealed, I can only assume it is in regards to her Lady Voyance, ever active as she is with those Keepers of hers."
The Autarch chuckled in thought as the two traversed the winding, seemingly endless halls of this mobile sarcophagus. "For what purpose do you think Voyance seeks to fulfill?” he finally asked. “And why send a loan scout in the form of Sisqa? If memory serves correctly, we held blades to each other’s throat. She sought even then for me to speak with Voyance."
The Dus Valors clacked his tongue and teeth in thought before turning the third to last corner before the bridge would come upon them. "Korriban has recently come under siege by the Galactic Alliance. The Empire has been pushed to the brink. Perhaps that is why she seeks to parlay.”
The Autarch was silent the rest of the way to the bridge’s shut doors and stopped just a hair before the sensor that would open it automatically. Mulling over the thoughts he had compiled into a mental file, he was silent for a few more minutes still then turned to the aged Koignalteth. He gave only a curt nod, “Have her escorted to me with armed guards.”
The Dus Valors nodded respectfully, “And her weapons?”
A final grave chuckle, “Let her keep them. If she attempts to strike me down for whatever reason, if that is her true goal...she will find that I am not the same man she fought once before.”
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Darth Voyance
Dark Saint of the Sith
[Korriban Orbit || GADF Navy and Sith-Imperial Armada Debris Field]
The Viper Probe Droid drifted softly through the innards of the warship’s wreckage. It propelled itself with brief thrusts of its repulsorlift engines, meandering through corridors littered with the floating corpses of the crew. The bodies bounced and ricocheted from where they rebounded from the mangled hulls. The Viper, ignorant of their visceral carnage, passed by and exited the cavernous gaping maw that jutted from the remnant of what was the warship’s aft section. It dived and surged forward, maneuvering around chunks of debris. Bits of warships, starfighters, and crew had coalesced into a massive debris field from where the Galactic Alliance Defense Force Navy and Sith-Imperial Armada had clashed. In the distance brilliant balls of fire and the streaks of red and green turbolasers illuminated the debris field and alerted the Viper to the continued fighting still going on.
The Viper moved towards a large hull plate, bent by some long gone explosion into a concave crescent. With its insect-like manipulator limbs it latched onto the back side of the bent plate, using it as a shield to obscure its advance. The Viper engaged its engines again and moved closer to the far off engagement. Its bulbous eyes which hid its cluster of visual receptors, turned and flexed their robotic irises as they captured high-definition images of the battling vessels. It spied upon GADF ships, ID’d as the Startide-Class Star Defenders. One of which was designated as a command vessel within its broadcasts, called Ouroboros. The Viper droid also spied upon the Sith-Imperial vessels and noted their command ships.
The Viper’s various other sensors and communications interceptors listened to the broadcasting clatter of the commands being relayed to each vessel from either side. The identifications of each ship, it’s designated name and it’s broadcasting comms-frequency were registered in its investigation and analysis computer - the data dissected, analyzed, and beamed back to its shadowed masters. The Viper’s companion probe droid had done the same on the surface of Korriban - identifying the locations of prominent ground force commanders, tracking their progress and registering their images for verification.
When the data vanished off from its internal circuitry, the Viper spoke in its binary coding to its master. A moment of silence followed as the droid drifted now aimlessly with its mission complete. A reply command beamed into its droid brain. The Viper, compliant and unflinching in its execution, released the camouflaging hull plate and pushed away from it. It twirled its eyes for a few more times, recording more data and spitting it out in encrypted beams of electromagnetic waves. Then, with its task complete, it powered over to a gnarled piece of wreckage. It dove into its tangled guts of pipes, hull plates and exposed gigantic wiring, nestling itself in. Swaddled in wreckage, the Viper engaged its self-destruct systems. It exploded and became a part of the wreckage, quietly dying in the debris littered void.
Sepulcher was an accursed place. The small rock world was a torn ruined world. An entire hemisphere and been ripped from its surface and now hung over it in a secondary planetoid. The yawning chasm it created glowed with a crimson light born from electrical discharges from the core that burned the gases that drifted between the islands of rubble. There were thousands of them. Some the size of continents, others that could overshadow a Star Destroyer and many taller than buildings caught in each other’s timid gravity in orbiting hazardous swarms. This world of ancient horror and destruction had been the home of what was left of the Keepers of the Sith Code – the Qotsisajakaar and the hidden base of their absconded mistress, Darth Voyance. Hidden inside a obfuscating nebula storm codenamed Typhojem’s Storm, the world was dead to the galaxy. The Storm was engulfing and certain death to any that would try and navigate it, even the storms of the Akkadese Maelstrom seemed a light thunderstorm in comparison.
From behind the vast panoramic glasteel windows of the Soothsayer’s Primary Command Bridge, the Chiss Fleet Commander Commodore Karn’raw’dassa, watched the world’s debris pass by. In the distance the ionic storms of the nebula blinked in and out through bright flashes. Nothing could go through them. Nothing except Darth Voyance and the Sith Wayfinders she had constructed from an original that was given to her. How Voyance came across such relic compasses eluded Karn, frustrating her. Her red Chiss eyes narrowed and used its foul gaze to reply to the monstrous cosmic carnage that offended her sight. Karn was Chiss, but above this, she was a soldier. She needed order and control execute her actions. But Voyance? She was tempered chaos. Dark, mysterious, and impenetrably recluse. She revelled in this abyss. Made it her home. Her own shrine of the Dark Side, a power Karn could not – and did not, wish to understand.
“Commodore, Viper Two-Aurek-Zero’s report has been received in full,” a Comms Officer called out from the data-pits of the command bridge.
“Viper Six-Besh-Three’s has also arrived.”
“And their self-destruct protocol?” said Karn, pivoting on her black booted heel to look down at the Comms Officer.
“Executed,” the Comms Officer replied curtly. “There’s no trace of them.”
“Very Well,” continued the Chiss while squeezing her clasped fists behind her back. “Lieutenant, send the data to the Lady at once. I will inform her ladyship of its arrival. Have the sensor teams prepare for navigational scans and have astrogation teams on standby for our departure. I want all ships to their hyperjump stations with the Wayfinders primed.”
“Yes’mam,” the Comms Officer said, saluting with a black gloved hand and a bow.
Commodore Karn nodded. She turned away from Sepulcher’s scarred planetary carcass and left the bridge. Her white cape fluttering behind her as she marched down the central raised aisle and rounded a corner to enter a side chamber. The chamber was a private holoprojection room. Domed in shape it had a tall ceiling held by black durasteel columns lined with light fixtures. Karn ascended a small flight of step to reach a large central circular dais. Karn stopped and pressed a command code into a side terminal that greeted her ascension.
The command entered, Karn walked towards the holoprojector’s perch inside a pylon. A large light bubbled and spew out from the projector. The image grew and ballooned into a large, blue, and ghostly monolith in the shape of Karn’s mistress, and Sith lover, Darth Voyance. The Rutian Twi’lek’s colossal image peered down at Karn. Her face partially hidden by a hood she appeared like a fading spectre to the Chiss. Voyance’s dark lips stretched in a micro-flexed grin, soft and nearly unnoticeable, as her golden eyes slid down to eye Karn.
“Karn,” Voyance's voice echoed in a crisp boom, sharply calling the Chiss just by her name. “You have something for me?”
“The Viper Droids have delivered their reports, Lady Voyance,” replied Karn, cranking her neck and head back to see Voyance. “All persons of interest have been located and verified. I am sending the report and the battle plans to you.”
“Good,” Voyance said, stretching the word like a growling hiss. She continued, “Have the battle plans shared with the rest of the Warlords’ Armada and see to it that priority is placed on commanding vessels and their crews. As well as the ground force commanders…Especially the Battle Commanders of the Sith-Imperial and the New Jedi Order. We will crush them both. Here and now.”
“It will be done, my lady,” Karn said bowing her head.
“And Karn,” Voyance said.
“Yes my lady?” Karn’s head rose sharply, unused to a secondary comment to a command.
“Patience my azure-ling,” Voyance said, her faint grin stretching into a revealed and menacing smile. “Patience and faith.”
“I understand…,” Karn said, cursing the unease in her voice with a wince.
The hologram of Voyance faded and small embers of projected light flickered in dying constellations, leaving just the Chiss and the dim lights of the chamber. Bathed in a dull grey glow, Karn twisted her lips and furrowed her brow. “Faith,” she repeated, “Faith in what and by who? I have my faith in you, my Lady. Faith in you Pythia. But I cannot see the darkness you keep yours in. Such things are beyond my calculations.” She groaned as she left the chamber, muttering to herself, “Faith, indeed my Lady. It is always about Faith with you.”
[Inside the Dark Praxeum’s Sith Ritual Chamber]
A crimson plated SA-5 protocol droid deactivated the small handheld holoprojector in its red digits and palm. The image of Karn blinked away and the SA-5 unit lowered the arm that was presenting the device and message. The droid tilted its head to Darth Voyance, asking, “Will that be all?” The Sith Lady waved the droid away and stepped aside to look towards the gathered Sith Lords of her newly formed Sith covenant of Warlords. They were gathered in the bowels of the Dark Praxeum, powerful battle-station she had initially built as a weapon to purge the Silver Jedi Order which plagued the Sith Empire’s borders – back when she was shackled to the Emperor and his Empire as its inert servile Knight. Now, it was her base, home, and tool. And now, the host of renegades, radicals, and schismatic Sith Lords.
The island platform itself was lined with obelisk shaped pillars which housed large shards of Dantari Crystals and further decorated with Sith Chalices which burned Korribanian incense. Wispy dark plumes of aromatic and Dark Side infused smoke billowed and whirled above Voyance and the Sith Warlords. The scent stained everything, tainted everything, and empowered everything. Voyance often bathed in this smoke when she meditated within her qabbrat pod inside the Soothsayer. It was like oxygen to her. The very breath of the Dark Side, which breathed life into the visions and prophetic meditations she conjured. But darker powers fueled the Ritual Chamber. One that fumed at the center of the platform within a pyramid shaped obsidian pyre. Darth Voyance stood beside the pyre and rested her hand on it’s Dantari Crystalline pinnacle. She caressed its polished translucent surface with her dark gloved thumb. Her eyes traced a path the thumb followed. Then she flicked them up to watch the Sith Warlords she had gathered by her side.
Her gaze first passed the Warlord she had been tracking for some time. A beast of great potential, if not great instability. But an instability that had drawn her attention. One that she had her own agent and apprentice, Siqsa Kun, follow and support. The Dread Autarch Kascalion Giedfield stood like an imposing mountain caped in dark skies and shadows. Beside him was the much slender but, no more dangerous and imperious Lord Vora Kaar. He stood with his arms crossed his hood drawn over his helm – quiet, pensive, and silently judging. Voyance could not call them brothers-in-darkness, nor compatriots. Such foolish ideals were ill-fitted for Sith. Such illusions of unitary cohesiveness is what fostered the stagnate and weak Sith of the Empire. They were Sith and by that virtue they were rivals – as the Code demanded – ready to cut her down should they find the power. Voyance knew this and welcomed it. This was how Sith should be. Brothers and Sisters – but servile the Dark Side and no one else. But, this did not mean they could not be of use or aid.
Darth Voyance let go of the pyre’s pinnacle and paced around its wide base, the malevolence of her presence only matched by the energies that pulsed around the Ritual Chamber. Every step she took reverberated in the Force with her collected fuming fixation. “Hâsksis,” Voyance said, “Sith’s Anguish, it is called…this wretched planet we orbit. I have called it Sepulcher. Once, it was a refuge of Sith Purebloods who fled the destruction of the Sith Homeworld by the victorious Old Republic at the end of the Great Hyperspace Wars. Only to be fooled into its own planetary sundering by Emperor Vitiate and his Empire.”
Voyance chuckled, “Poetic is it not?” She continued, “Now once again the Sith Homeworld, is on the verge of desecration once more – by Republic descendants the Galactic Alliance and another Sith Empire, misleading and chaining the Sith again. The cycle repeats. History rhymes. But we shall be the coda to this war and we shall use the inheritance of those refugees against all our enemies.”
“Deep in the gaping maw of this world is a Dark Side Nexus, born from the planet’s destruction by some ancient ritual,” Voyance said as she passed each Warlord. “It will power our work and the Dantari Crystals shall recycle any spent energy, forming a lattice of power that feeds and preserves itself. That is how I designed this chamber. It is like a star, powering itself. All that it requires, is a catalyst.”
It was a pretty speech. A speech to commemorate the war they were about to unleash. But, it was a veneer designed to cover Voyance’s true feelings. Korriban was a grave world. Any significance it had died and withered to dust long ago, sunken beneath the world’s red dunes. Like Sepulcher it was a world of ruin and death. It was as useful as bones and dirt. But, what it had was symbolic power. Power in the Dark Side, power among Sith, and power of image. The Empire had allowed the sacrilege of Jedi boots to tread its surface and whether they succeeded in repelling them did not matter. This attack, as sacrificial it may be, was necessary to drive the message and spark of rebellion into the Empire. That the Sith-Imperials did not have a monopoly on the Sith and that their time as defenders of the Sith faith was at an end. Voyance had no use for Korriban, she only had use for its catalyst. And she would expend as many souls, flesh, blood, steel, and technology as possible to ignite that dark flame of schism and reformation.
“My Lords,” Voyance said, “Let us announce ourselves to the galaxy…once more.”
Voyance channelled the Dark Side, becoming a vessel of empty resistance to the corrupting powers. They whirled into her body and seeped into the Dantari Crystal pinnacle of the pyre, imbuing them with powerful currents of the dark energy. Energy pushed into the pyre spat and cracked in black arcs of lightning, lightning which was immediately captured by the crystals in the obelisks and fed back into the Pyre. The entire chamber rattled and shook as the other Lords joined.
***[Written By Kascalion:] The Autarch watched as the lightning crackled forth from the Dark Saint’s construct. Arcs of brilliant darkness spewing like forked tongues of an imperceivable serpent, writhing in the air in an amortal dance of the void. It was nearly breathtaking how much power he could feel in that singular moment. From these obelisks of destruction. This pure testament to the might of the Dark Side. He stepped forward, silent as ever yet as thunderous as ever, and removed the armored gauntlet covering his crimson hands and scrapped his onyx nails across the surface of the obelisk. The energy sparked against the tips of his nails in barely visible spears before he placed his hand in full on the blackened pyramid. The air around him immediately became a heavenly caustic vacuum and he could feel the light hairs across his hand and forearm singing to their base.
“Let us usher forth an unrivaled epoch this day and see the infection of the galaxy forever pierced and drained,” he growled in his unearthly voice, each charred word echoing throughout the vacuum.
His own power surged into the pyramid from his flattened palm, coursing through his body as it was expedited for a meaningful purpose. He watched with burning sockets as it took shape in the black lightning, starved and desiring the death of hundreds. He began whispering a mantra that had become lost to the Galaxy, yet reborn in his own soul. And as he whispered it within his mind, he knew that this was it. This was the day the Sith would take back their destiny and change the course of their history. Korriban would be the battleground and Korriban would be the grave.***
Outside, the Dark Nexus rumbled in the Force and like steam seethed in dark gales that swarmed the Dark Praxeum. The black pyramid battle-sation was now the center of a Force Maelstrom of monstrous size. It spewed cracks of dark side lightning which tore open the fabric of the Force with every tendril and shattered the particles around it changing the electrical make up of nearby space.
Their combined powers formed an enormous field of energy around the Praxeum. The lightning and unstable Dark Side discharges that flooded the Ritual Chamber began to condense. Pressured by the manipulations of the Sith Lords into a furnace of destruction and birth – like the fires of a reactor core. Voyance grinned, the Praxeum was primed. It was time to go. She closed her eyes and searched the Force signatures of the Praxeum to find her apprentice Siqsa Kun.
[Inside the Command Center of the Dark Praxeum]
Siqsa Kun snapped open her eyes. Her golden Sith eyes widely blinked, and she rose sharply from her seated position inside a command chair behind the vast terraced data-pits that lined the ziggurat fashioned space of the Praxeum’s Command Center. Siqsa took a few steps forward and concentrated on the presence of her dark mistress. “Master?” she whispered in her mind. Her words were carried by Force powered telepathy and echoed back to Voyance.
“It is time, Red One,” Voyance’s presence said. “We move for Korriban.”
“Understood,” said Siqsa aloud. She bowed her head and then looked up to throw out her arm, barking commands at the navigation and communications officers of the Command Center. “Prepare for hyperspace jump. Follow the coordinates from the Viper reports. Shields to full and angled heavy forward.”
Siqsa then swung her arm to point at a communications officer beside her, attending to a side panel of equipment near her seat. “Inform the Commodore that we are jumping now. When the Dark Praxeum’s attack is complete she is to join us. Tell her that her exit trajectory will be danger close, she must be right on the enemy fleets.” The officer complied and faced her instruments just as the ‘all clear’ was given. Siqsa crossed her arms and looked out over the terraces. “Jump!” she yelled and the Dark Praxeum, with all the evil the Warlords had conjured blinked from Sepulcher and flew threw hyperspace towards Korriban.
[Korriban Orbit || GADF Navy Fleet and Sith-Imperial Armada]
The Avalon Class Corvette Resilience was barely holding off. Caught out by a Sith-Imperial Star Destroyer it was hoping to use the cover downed GADF Navy ships to run by the predatory warship. On the bridge of the Consular Corvette’s protruding prow, the Resilience’s Pantoran Captain lay slouched in his command seat. His hands clutching the edges of his armrest and his Captain’s hat slumped down over his brow. The ship shuddered as a turbolasers broadside ignited lingering reactor gases from half burning debris reactors and scattered wreckage into lethal shrapnel that shock and peppered the Resilience.
Inside the command bridge claxons from various warning sung a cacophony of shrill melodies. Bridge officers chimed between the claxons with their own cries, “Shield down to 20%”, “Firing systems on starboard aft down Captain!”, “the Sith ship is on our tail now Captain!”. The Captain, a portly GADF Naval Officer who before the invasion of Korriban had been patrolling hyperlanes and skirmishing with pirates, had no reply. His Lieutenant, a stern human from Corellia rushed to the Captain as the Resilience shook again. Trying to stay upright as the bridge waved from the shockwaves the Corellian fell on his Captain. Gripping the Pantoran by the shoulders he tried to shake him out of his paralyzed stupor.
“Captain!” he called out. “Captain your orders! Your orders!”
The Pantoran said nothing, the only sign of thought was his fingers tightening around the armrest. The Corellian cursed under his breath and pushed himself away. He rushed to the front of the bridge grabbing the back of a bridge officer’s chair to brace himself. “We need to get out of here,” he called to the bridge staff busy at their consoles. “Forget the fight, we have to survive!” he shouted. “All power to engines and what’s left of the shields angled behind.” He then pointed to a narrow strait between two massive wrecks of a GADF and Sith-Imperial ship, entangled together. “One shot, right through that opening,” he said. “The wrecks will cover us!”
The Resilience shifted the tattered remains of its shielding to the back of the ship, embracing and buckling under turbolasers. The engines roared, nearly overheating from the sudden overload from all auxiliary systems. It burst into a head on charge into the two recked warships. As it entered the straits it scraped along the narrow gape. Bits of debris smashed and shattered over its body and scarred long gashes. The whole ship rattled to the very last bolt. The Corellian hung onto the seat and everyone else braced. “We’re almost through!” he said, seeing the exit. The Resilience was just about to shoot out the other end of the debris straits when a load claxon shrieked. The Corellian whipped his head around in shock, “No! Is it the Sith?”
A Sensors Officer replied with a confused shake of his head, “No. But, this doesn’t make any sense either!”
“What is it? Out with it quick!” the Corellian snapped.
“I don’t know! I don’t recognize it’s hyperspace signature. But the long range receiver has picked up something exiting from hyperspace right ahead of us!” the Sensors Officer said.
“Ahead of us?” parroted the Corellian, continuing, “Both our and the Sith’s Fleet are all over the place. There’s nowhere to exit!”
The Resilience spat out from the other end of the straits. The Sith-Imperial warship was far behind, obstructed by debris and wrecks. The Corellian’s question was immediately answered when the behemoth Dark Praxeum ripped from hyperspace. Its entire colossus covered in arcing black lightning and vibrating energy that tossed aside any ship that it had exited into, shattering them into pieces or shoving them off course. Whether GADF or Sith-Imperial it didn’t matter. Everything was pushed aside. The Corellian’s mouth slowly gaped open and his eyes widened. “Lieutenant?” the Sensors Officer called, “What do we do? Who are they?” But, the Corellian said nothing, it was his turn to be paralyzed with fear and indecision.
The Dark Praxeum stood their for a moment. Resting in the crater of space it had created for itself upon its exit. Then the energy surrounding it exploded forward. First arcs of thick lightning spat out like the tentacled limbs of a Summa-Verminoth leviathan. It whipped ships. Ripping off hulls, burning and scorching crews inside and snapping sections clean. One tendril of Dark Side devastation flung itself onto the long neck of the Consular Corvette’s midships, snapping it in two. Another struck the engine section, igniting it into a powerful fireball that shot the remaining bridge head and bow out. Everyone inside the bridge was thrown around as all the systems failed and died. Then came the shockwave.
The Dark Side energy and lightening tore at the fabric of the Force around it. Particles were disrupted, torn, and infused with electromagnetic energy that changed and distorted their charges – creating a powerful ionic tsunami that washed over both the GADF and Sith-Imperial Fleets. It pierced through the shielding and hulls, dousing systems in their electrical chaos. All electrical systems that controlled the vitals of ships died or entered emergency shut downs to keep from short-circuiting and sparking flames. Bright flashes from the shockwave and the lightning spread out from the Dark Praxeum like a bright super nova – that could be seen even from the battle below on the surface of Korriban. Every ship, starfighter, and even some of the crew were now scorched by the Dark Praxeum’s Force Maelstrom explosion. The Sith Warlords had arrived.
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Eternal Empress
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag:
Beltran Rarr
Then suddenly felt something in the Force, a very strong disturbance, something was coming. She was relieved that it all came not from the tomb, not from Adrian, but from somewhere else. She got her gaze to the sky, where after a few seconds she even saw the lights that also shone through the sun; ion cannon. Not much could have stayed up there in one. Just hoped that the ships of the Eternal Empire were not destroyed and nothing happened to them.
This was not the GA and not the TSE. Someone else arrived and got into the fighting. They were too far away, she didn't feel auras in the Force, but if she had, she wouldn't have known them either, because she hadn't encountered them before. Few seconds later finally felt them, but she really didn’t recognize them. Didn't want to shout, it didn't matter, but it was instinctive on her part to be quiet and imperceptible, so sent a telepathic message to the soldier about to leave.
~ Rarr! Someone joined the fight as a third party… ~ "said" quickly telepathically the completely obvious fact.
Turned to her own men, who had just been trying to find out who might have arrived, but had not yet received an answer from their own ships. Turned to her gaze to the sky again. What else is going to happen here today?
Beltran Rarr
Character
Beltran returned to his ship in silence. In the distance, the sounds of explosions and blaster fire still sounded off. The GA strike teams were sowing destruction and Chaos while the Sith Empire's forces were doing everything in their power to contain them. Overhead, the distant flashes of massive turbolasers could be made out, as ship's from the Alliance Navy clashed with the planet's defenders. It was a beautiful backdrop of destruction, but the Lorrdian's mind was too consumed with its own thoughts to notice overmuch.
In many ways, Beltran considered his experiences today to be failures. He had been brought low in front of an enemy. He had been bested and what was worse, he had been wrong. Rather than prove herself the duplicitous hag Beltran believed her to be,
Ingrid L'lerim
had acted with honor. She had shown him a kind of mercy, calling off the Dark Side creature that had nearly killed him. And now, she was allowing him to quit the field, all but unscathed. Worse even than that, he had not contributed even a single iota of aid to the Galactic Alliance's offensive here. Nor had he found a GA member he could trust with the data exonerating renegade Sergeant
Tulan Kor
of the murder of the Duros Senator. In every way, save the loss of his own life, Beltran felt he had failed here. Upon reaching his ship, Beltran opened the boarding ramp and strode up, depressing the ramp's activation switch with a powerful smash of his fist. Over the ship's intercom, D07 or "Dot" as Beltran called, toodled an admonishment.
"Sorry," Was all he had the energy to reply. Even his astromech was calling him out on his bantha poodoo today.
Coming to one of the large bench seats in the cargo hold, Beltran half sat half flopped down on it and slowly began to unclasp his armor and weaponry. His mind remained busy, considering all the things that Ingrid had said to him. What if the Force was no more? What if life, love and liberty could continue on without the mystical energy field? With no Jedi, no Sith and no eternal warfare between the two, could the galaxy truly, finally, know peace?
Laying his rifle to the side, Beltran drew his Hand-Cannon and popped the cylinder out. All six "Sith-Killer" rounds remained there-unfired. Slowly, he began to pop them out, one by one. Each of the cortosis jacketed, depleted baradium, rounds was worth more than he made in half a month as a Captain with the Antarian Rangers. If he hadn't amassed a not-so-small fortune as the secret owner of Obsidian Star Technologies, he would never have been able to afford these rounds.
Standing, he slowly made his way over to the weapons locker-intending to put the rounds back in their protective cas...
~ Rarr! Someone joined the fight as a third party… ~
Ingrid's voice sounded loudly in his mind, causing him to trip, stumble and land on one knee on the deck of the hold. The six rounds flew from his hands and bounced onto the floor, scattering throughout the hold.
"What the feth-" Beltran was in the middle of shouting when Dot came over the intercom once more. Through a series of tweets and toodles, the Astromech alerted him that a giant...pyramid? Had materialized into the real space over the planet.
"Show me," Beltran said, moving over to a small viewing screen. A second later, Beltran saw the massive geometric shape sitting in the midst of the Sith-Imperial and Galactic Alliance fleets. Giant arcs of what looked like Force Lightening were shooting out at it, hitting anything nearby and throwing the entire battle into disarray. Closing his eyes and opening his mind, Beltran felt the power of the newcomers standing out among the background Dark Side aura of this place. To put it simply, it was jarring.
A second later, Dot warbled a question to which Beltran answered. "No, stay on the ground." He told her. "I doubt we can get out of orbit without getting hit by one of those bolts and given what they appear to be doing to full sized Capital ships, I don't think we'd survive. See if you can contact Ranger Command, or the Silver Temples on Kashyyyk or Commenor."
Only a few seconds went by before Dot told him that the ionizing aspect of whatever those energy bolts were, were causing problems with their holo-transceiver.
"Figures," Beltran muttered to himself as he went back over to the bench. He quickly re-strapped his rifle to his chest rig and grabbed his Hand-Cannon. Moving over to the weapon's locker, he reloaded it with fresh rounds from the protective case. He'd have Dot go searching for the one's he'd dropped later. He then grabbed his helmet and re-clasped it before moving to the boarding ramp once more. As it lowered, Beltran found himself once more out in the roan desert that was the Valley of Kings.
In the distance, he could see movement in the camp where Ingrid had shown him the various artifacts she'd exhumed. Breaking into a quick jog, Beltran quickly made his way over there. He waved his hand, empty at the sentries-indicating that he was not there to fight. When he saw Ingrid, he called out, his voice sounding somewhat metallic coming through his vox modulator.
"I guess the Force had more for us to do today," He said wryly. "Any idea who the new people are?"
Eternal Empress
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag:
Beltran Rarr
As her men were just telling her the information, she could already see that Rarr was moving backwards as well. When noticed this, motioned for her men not to do anything, not to shoot the man. She informed him personally, though the soldier probably sensed what had happened. It was hard enough not to notice. Meanwhile, the woman also saw the huge pyramid ship in the holo-pictures. Knew that not many people had such a ship and the pictures also made it absolutely clear that both sides were really under attack. Meanwhile, Rarr arrived.
The Empress didn't like not knowing the answer to something, but now she was forced to shake her head at the question.
"If it weren’t for a Sith-typical pyramid ship, I would have said maybe Bryn’adûl was trying to do something, maybe the NIO stabbed the GA in the back. But seeing the pictures… I don’t like to say that, but I have no idea."
How much easier it would have been if it had been Bryn’adûl again, but so? She didn't really know anyone who had the right force for it all, or just a ship like that. Would have needed the Nite database at this point to be able to look it up, but accessing that network here would have been suicidal. However, based on her military experience, such an attack will not stop in space.
"But I have a feeling that we will soon find out, from a military point of view, not to mention the Sith side, this place, Korriban is a gold mine. If these are really some kind of renegade Sith, chances are a ground offensive will also start. What do you think about this?"
Eternal Father
No life stirred under the hateful and oppressive gaze of the blood-red jewel looming high above the desolate waste. Everything for miles around was dead and had been for thousands of years. The dirt was loose and fallow, creating a blanket of shifting debris over a foundation of limestone and marble. Spires of twisted rock dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see, the refuse of an ancient society that once thrived on a world teeming with life. Now all that remained of their toil was desolation and ruin, not even a whispering wind to pass through their derelict halls.
But a sound did permeate the still air, a terrible high-pitched rending, which echoed out across the empty plains without anything to impede its spread. A cloud of dust bloomed on the horizon, rising above stark mountain ranges and crumbling plateaus. Just over the ridge was a frenzied horde, hundreds of machines and thousands of laborers toiling unceasingly in the hard unforgiving earth.
The excavation had been going on for quite some time, the scars of their digging could be seen from the cloudless heights of the upper atmosphere. Slaves, their numbers uncountable, worked with the single-minded doggedness of a madman without pause. Their hands were bloodied and bruised from their labors, but regardless of injury, they continued on. Milky thoughtless eyes stared intently at their task, only blinking purely on biological reflex when dust or debris obscured their sight. They were monitored by burly guards in dark clothing, who watched closely for any sign of disconformity.
Beyond the toiling slaves were ancient structures supplemented by modern construction, the echoes of a bygone era long lost to history. Durasteel scaffolding supported crumbling stone and mortar, dark red banners hanging from what parapets remained. Those who walked the ancient halls were not of this forsaken world, they were trespassers who had stolen the legacy of this world for themselves. The Lord they served had commanded them to oversee the restoration of the ancient temples, and they had done so without question. The slaves they had procured were in unending supply, their minds wiped blank by the insidious powers of the Dark Side.
Three cloaked and hooded figures stalked the silent corridors, their figures gaunt from the poisonous touch of the Dark Side. They approached a door made of modern steel and mechanisms, which opened immediately to bid them entry. Inside were other similar beings alongside men and women dressed in the garments of military officers, their countenances as grim as their more mystical compatriots. In front of them was a hologram, a display of the battle which raged above Moraband; the ancient homeworld of the Sith.
Their Lord and Master had gone to Moraband for his own purposes, leaving the task of restoring the ancient temples to his faithful disciples. They had in turn appointed delegates to continue the work in their stead while they flocked to the communications tower of the main temple to watch the battle unfold. All were silent with their eyes glued to the display, following the movements of each warship on both sides. The room was utterly silent except for the dull hum of the holoprojector and the idle chitter of the machinery around them.
It was only when a new fleet emerged that the others began to speak.
"Unidentified warships have entered Moraband's orbit," spoke one of the gaunt mystics, blue lips peeling back to revealing blood-stained teeth in a threatening snarl. "Their transponders do not align with any known government, but that lead ship..."
More murmuring broke out amongst their ranks, the mystics looking to one another for confirmation while the military officers edged closer to better observe the ongoing chaos.
"It must be them, it has to be. The Eye spoke of their return, dark light emanating from a shadow prism to cloak the world of graves in shadow. It is exactly as she foretold." Mutterings of agreements, even from the military officers who did not fully comprehend the shadowy mysticism of the Dark Side. The Eye had been speaking of such revelations after many visions, her prophecies of the utmost importance to their Lord and Master. It must've been why he had departed Remnicore for Moraband, his mind was far greater than their own.
Of course, Moraband was the world of graves, what else could it have meant?
"Then our Lord's edict stands, we dispatch the Sedriss and her escorts to Moraband." Spoke one of the military officers, their eyes ablaze with the fervor of faith. Before he had departed, their Lord had spoken to them that if the prophecy that the Eye had foretold came to pass while he was on Moraband, then they were to send the Sedriss and her accompanying fleet to Moraband as well.
After more disquiet murmuring of assent, they contacted the Sedriss high above the planet's surface.
The Sedriss was a marvel of design.
Three kilometers from prow to stern, the warship was one of the Sutta-class battlecruisers that had been constructed by the Holy Throne at the Lord and Master's decree. The culmination of decades of research and experimentation, powered by both technological marvels and the Dark Side of the Force, and entirely self-sufficient, the Sutta marked the beginning of a new era of warships no longer anchored by the limitations of planets and supply lines. It could travel indefinitely without resupply, never having to pass near a world at all if it needed to.
Not only that, but it did not rely on the same methods of navigation as other starships.
Commanding the Sedriss was Grand Admiral Carpari Lacyar, native-born daughter of Pijal in the Inner Rim. Her father had joined the One Sith during their campaign against the Galactic Republic in the previous war and had been killed by the Galactic Alliance during the Battle of Coruscant. A fierce hatred for the Republic, the Alliance, and the Jedi had taken root in her ever since, the flames of her anger fanned by the passionate ideology of the Sith. Her determination had allowed her to rise high in the Sith Empire's navy, soaring ahead of many of her contemporaries much to their jealousy and chagrin.
She caught the eye of the Sith Emperor during the Battle of Thyferra, where her loyalty had been tested as the order to burn the planet was given to her. She faithfully executed her Emperor's orders, turning her flagship's cannons against the planet's surface to bathe it in hellfire. She destroyed population centers without hesitation, breathlessly ordering the destruction of fleeing civilian ships despite their pleas for clemency.
She had discovered at that moment true power.
The power to decide who lives and who dies.
Summoned by the Emperor after Thyferra, she had expected to be stripped of her honors because of the civilians she had heedlessly executed. She was only minutely surprised to discover that she was not being dismissed but rather celebrated by the Emperor, whose cruelty was more a matter of fact than speculation among the upper officers of the Empire. He told her that he saw in her a bright and brilliant destiny, that she possessed the capabilities to shape the galaxy around her rather than be shaped in turn.
The Emperor spoke with her at length, detailing the new position he had in mind for her. She was to become one of a new breed of naval commanders, separate from the power structure and politics of the Empire, to oversee the construction of a hidden fleet. Officially, it would be known to the rest of the Empire that she had perished from injuries sustained during the Thyferra battle. Unofficially, she would be granted the rank of Grand Admiral and dispatched to the Holy Throne to be inducted into the Emperor's secret faith. She accepted her new position in a daze, her mind struggling to comprehend what she had been told.
That had been almost ten years ago now, and that haze has since lifted. She was fully committed to her Emperor, the man who no longer held such a title, and was one of his fiercest devotees among the military he was secretly building.
As she stood on the bridge of the Sedriss she breathed in with a contented sigh while looking out over the vacant starfield moored by the horizon of Remnicore. She marveled at its beauty, the serene glow of Remnicore's atmosphere as it pushed up against the vacuum of space. Just below her periphery was the expanse of the Sedriss, her flagship and her home. She had spent the last near-decade living exclusively on the Sedriss, becoming intimately familiar with its every component, every room, and every system.
It was an extension of herself, it was almost as if...
The communications officer declared an incoming transmission, breaking the Admiral's train of thought as she whirled around to stare at the officer.
"Incoming transmission from the planet's surface, Grand Admiral."
He was surprisingly young, but then again, so were the majority of the officers in the fleet. Most of them had inherited their position from their fathers and mothers, the descendants of those loyal to the Master throughout the years. Others were more like herself, chosen by the Master himself for their role.
"Put it through," she commanded, and the communications officer acquiesced. The image of one of the mystics appeared shrouded in pale cerulean light, the image slightly distorted from atmospheric anomalies affecting the transmission stream. "Grand Admiral, the Lord has commanded you to make haste to Moraband, the enemy has been spotted. Transmitting order codes." Order codes were encrypted data packages that held the Master's seal of command and contained all of the specific tasks one was expected to complete, it was how the fleet transmitted his commands to one another without his presence.
"Acknowledged, receiving order codes." She approached her command console and watched as the data transfer began and completed, pressing her rank cylinder into the input socket to unlock the package. When it did, she quickly scanned over her orders and everything she was intended to do. When she had completed, she turned back to the hologram and said, "Orders received, May His Will Eclipse The Stars."
"May His Will Eclipse The Stars."
The transmission cut and she wasted no time in barking out orders to her bridge crew. The ion engines of the Sedriss grew bright as the ship unmoored itself from Remnicore's upper atmosphere, the smaller ships following as they traversed deeper into space. Once they had untethered themselves from the planet's gravitational pull, the ship settled into an idle drift towards the vast expanse of nothingness beyond the solar system.
Far down below the bridge, a group of cloaked mystics had been stirred from their hibernation by their attendants. Sluggish at first, they stumbled into a vast circular chamber surrounded by large pods connected to one another and to the ship by endless cables and tubes. Placing themselves inside the pods, they were then hermetically sealed within by the attendants as each pod powered up one by one. Inside, they strapped themselves to advanced machinery, their minds melding both within the Force and within the machinery of the ship itself.
"The Navigators are in position, Grand Admiral." Said the navigations officer.
"Make the jump to Moraband." She replied.
The Navigators down below pooled their powers together, creating a powerful feedback loop that grew exponentially in power as it continued to build momentum. Ahead, the black curtain of space seemed to peel open, turbulent light spilling out from the wound in space and time. Heedless, the Sedriss pushed forward towards the anomaly. As it neared, lightning lashed out to take hold of its hull, the storm doing the same to the smaller ships which followed in the Sedriss' wake. After a moment, the smaller ships were suddenly yanked into the wormhole and disappeared from view.
The Sedriss was the last ship to be pulled through, acting as the catalyst for the wormhole to close behind it once it passed. Nothing remained to even denote the storm's arrival, save for the faint discharges of electrical energy wandering aimlessly in the void.
Lightning stabbed the heavens near the turbulent chaotic battle above Moraband, the veil again rending as space split down its seams and opened up a wormhole from another place and another time. Out spilled the Sedriss and its escorts, having bypassed all traditional means of navigation to appear at Moraband seemingly at will. Engines slowed to a methodical approach as the fourth fleet to join the battle cruised into position. Weapon systems, all slaved to an organic system of hive-minded sithspawn, turned in unison to target the ships of the unknown pyramid ship and the Alliance's cruisers.
"Open fire," commanded the Grand Admiral and not a moment later the weapons of the Sedriss began to belch destructive power. The Dark Side of the Force exuded from the Sedriss, as each turbolaser was empowered by the Dark Side of the Force.
The Sedriss' hangar was a flurry of activity, pilots dressed in dark pressurized suits rushing along grated walkways towards their fighters as they were maneuvered out from the holding area on docking claws and into the launch bay. Bearing the highest grade of new technology, the Siqsa-class starfighter was just as advanced as the warship it was carried on. Both pilot and gunner were directly interfaced into the starfighter's controls, melding their minds with that of the machine.
As the pilot strapped themselves into their seat, they could feel their heart beating in their chest. This was what they had been made for, bred for. Ever since she had fallen out from her exowomb at birth, she had known deep within her heart that this was her destiny. Like her brothers and sisters, she had been artificially created by the Master to live and die at his command. Since before she was born she knew his voice intimately, having heard it in her mind ever since she could conceive of consciousness. That same voice spoke to her now in a hushed and lustful tone, demanding that she take up her starfighter and kill the enemies of her Master.
She felt compelled beyond all doubt to fulfill this voice's wishes, to do as it commanded, and to die willingly at its discretion. It was an unshakable feeling, one that was as solidly a part of her as her own flesh and blood. She gripped the levers of her starfighter as the neurocrown was lowered over her brow. Instantly, the thoughts of her gunner flooded into her mind and hers into his. They became one, minds melded more intimately than anything previously experienced. Those thoughts were quickly joined by the technical analysis of the starfighter itself, their minds tapped directly into its sensors and systems.
Fully melded, they were the first to jettison from the Sedriss' hangar and out into the chaos around them. Each squadron moved in unison, their thoughts linked together into an unbreakable mesh. Information was transmitted almost instantaneously, allowing them to react and respond with almost no lapse in action. Most of their screening action was based around the enemy vessels of the heretic Sith they had come to eradicate, though they also made passed on Alliance vessels as well and supported Sith Empire vessels where available.
Down below on Moraband's surface, the battle between Carnifex and Coren Starchaser had come to an end. Though the Lord of the Sith had pinned Starchaser in a corner and was about the deliver the finishing blow, the arrival of the dark fleet above made him hesitate just long enough for Starchaser to escape.
Now, all alone in the barren wastes, the once-Emperor of the Sith Empire stared up at the sky above.
His eyes could see beyond the cerulean haze of Moraband's atmosphere, the entirety of the fleet battle in orbit encompassing his vast vision. There were the vessels of the Empire locked in battle with the vessels of the Alliance, but what really snatched his attention was the dark pyramid which had arrived not long ago. The Dark Side of the Force poured out from the vessel, lashing out at the ships it neared. It was a familiar sensation, but there was an even more familiar feeling behind it.
He could feel his old apprentice.
The Arch-Heretic.
She was up there, somewhere amidst that tangle of ships and wreckage of bodies. The time had come for them to again meet, and what better theater than that of the ancient homeworld of the Sith. With Starchaser having slipped through his fingers, Carnifex was more than eager to not let another slip through either. He turned away from the site of his duel with Starchaser and made his way towards what passed for civilization on this world.
Moraband was in chaos, the fighting having spilled out far beyond its original boundaries. Those who lived on the tomb-world had taken their arms to the invaders, paramilitary gangs roaming the streets of Dreshdae and putting anyone who they deemed as enemies of the Sith to the torch. Many innocents were caught up in their path of destruction, but so too did the soldiers of the Alliance fall to their zealotry. The Jedi were more disciplined, but here and there some again fell to the mob. The crowd of bodies was far too strong for any one individual to overcome, and their broken and massacred corpses were put on display as warnings by the crazed locals.
Carnifex fed on this perverse hatred, letting it empower himself as he readily empowered the people of Moraband. His mere presence sent the inhabitants of the city into a frenzy of violence, their cries of pain and worship like a haunting dissonance above the dirge of battle. Some attempted to follow him as he walked, their bodies bloodied in acts of self-flagellation and scarifying piety. Some readily took their own lives, their suicidal eagerness to prove their devotion only amplified by the very sight of him. Others clawed their own eyes out, their penance for daring to even look upon his gnarled visage.
He ignored them regardless of what they did, their presence like that of ants to him. All he required was a means of transportation, and the military shuttle ahead of him could prove useful. The soldiers who had once occupied it had long since died, and it was nothing short of a miracle that it hadn't been destroyed or stripped down by the frenzied populace. Stepping inside, Carnifex reached out with the Force to seize the controls and will the ship to rise up into the air. Those who had attempted to clamor on with him quickly found the ground beneath them dropping away from them, and they eventually tumbled down to a messy death as the ship rose higher and higher into orbit.
His face was grim as he navigated the chaos, plotting a course for the source of where he sensed his errant apprentice.
To correct the great error.
Xenro
Nox Aeternum.
A pair of green eyes watched passively as the ship rocked. He could feel the negative energy exploited ions and created a faux-energy around them, but his concentration remained. Death was an inconvenience, but failure was unacceptable. The Sith had at last made their infighting known to the Galaxy; and Korriban would be the first casualty in a long line.
Arkanis listened carefully. The officers barking orders, the Alliance scrambling to enact them. Beneath the turmoil, a festering warmth. There was a Jedi afoot, spreading their warmth and feeding the lie. A creeping peace seeped in, and elation threatened to creep deep into his flesh.
"..."
He muttered beneath his breath, discontent palpable. "Padawan Xentrius, wasn't it?" she asked. Arkanis looked up absently. "You're pretty new around, so I figured I'd let you know what's going on. We're gearing up for a mind meld, so I'm working to seep the crew in Battle Meditation to help them remain steady and calm. It feels like... you're resistant? No, maybe reluctant? Can I ask for your cooperation?"
He managed an awkward smile. "Oh... I'm sorry, I don't know much about that," he stammered apologetically. "I usually keep my nose buried in books, so I'm useless for anything but theory."
"It's no problem!" she assured him. Her smile was bright, and she had sparkling blue eyes. Arkanis tilted his head. "I just need you to breathe slowly and focus on staying calm. Project those feelings outward to everyone. Can you do that?"
"Nwûl tash."
"Did you say something?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh, no, sorry, I zoned out," he said with a nervous laugh. "I'm still trying to get used to the whole Jedi thing. I'll try my best," Arkanis made eye contact and managed another, seemingly more genuine smile. The energies around him twisted and seemed calm, sinking deep into the minds and spirits of the crew. A collective sigh escaped, and he could feel them bending to the Force.
"Oh, fantastic! You're a natural, kid!" she clapped her hands merrily. "Okay, I'll go let Knight Torrin know we're ready to begin when he is."
"Great," Arkanis watched her leave, and his expression soured. At least the crew seemed more competent now. The ship slowly steadied as best it could, albeit still struggling against the unnatural storm that assailed it. Korriban waited, just beyond the veil.
He had to remain focused on the true enemy.
Arkanis listened carefully. The officers barking orders, the Alliance scrambling to enact them. Beneath the turmoil, a festering warmth. There was a Jedi afoot, spreading their warmth and feeding the lie. A creeping peace seeped in, and elation threatened to creep deep into his flesh.
"..."
He muttered beneath his breath, discontent palpable. "Padawan Xentrius, wasn't it?" she asked. Arkanis looked up absently. "You're pretty new around, so I figured I'd let you know what's going on. We're gearing up for a mind meld, so I'm working to seep the crew in Battle Meditation to help them remain steady and calm. It feels like... you're resistant? No, maybe reluctant? Can I ask for your cooperation?"
He managed an awkward smile. "Oh... I'm sorry, I don't know much about that," he stammered apologetically. "I usually keep my nose buried in books, so I'm useless for anything but theory."
"It's no problem!" she assured him. Her smile was bright, and she had sparkling blue eyes. Arkanis tilted his head. "I just need you to breathe slowly and focus on staying calm. Project those feelings outward to everyone. Can you do that?"
"Nwûl tash."
"Did you say something?" she asked.
"Huh? Oh, no, sorry, I zoned out," he said with a nervous laugh. "I'm still trying to get used to the whole Jedi thing. I'll try my best," Arkanis made eye contact and managed another, seemingly more genuine smile. The energies around him twisted and seemed calm, sinking deep into the minds and spirits of the crew. A collective sigh escaped, and he could feel them bending to the Force.
"Oh, fantastic! You're a natural, kid!" she clapped her hands merrily. "Okay, I'll go let Knight Torrin know we're ready to begin when he is."
"Great," Arkanis watched her leave, and his expression soured. At least the crew seemed more competent now. The ship slowly steadied as best it could, albeit still struggling against the unnatural storm that assailed it. Korriban waited, just beyond the veil.
He had to remain focused on the true enemy.
Become the Crisis
Surface of Korriban
The deed was done.
Ripley Kühn
was no longer a threat to the planet's infrastructure with her explosives. The splintered manifestations of the being known publicly as Vanessa Vantai had inhibited the offensive of the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi. While one had been wounded by the weapon the Jedi's compatriot had wielded, the other now sought to find a way offworld - which immediately grew fleeting as another presence began to emerge. A presence she had at one point been vaguely familiar with during her then-loyalty to then-Emperor
Darth Carnifex
.
The presence of
Darth Voyance
.
Lights flickered across the horizon, auroras generated by the ionized particles from the shockwave of energy the heretic Sith had produced making contact with the world's atmosphere. The intensity of charge within the world's electromagnetic field was something presumably unseen in history - auroras were not uncommon, especially on planets orbiting stars that at least semiregularly ejected coronal mass, but this was different - very, very different.
-
Fringe of Dantooine system
An order was transmitted to the flotilla of Pluton-class Battleships waiting on the edges of Dantooine. Evidently, the Gorgon no longer required their assistance against the traitor NIO fleet assets. So it was that they had been redirected to Dantooine, in order to help further extract any stranded Sith assets from the system. Their hyperdrives activated as the reservists exited the system, on their way to a nebulous and uncharted domain.
Whether they would be prepared for what they found was a completely different question entirely.
The deed was done.
Ripley Kühn
was no longer a threat to the planet's infrastructure with her explosives. The splintered manifestations of the being known publicly as Vanessa Vantai had inhibited the offensive of the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi. While one had been wounded by the weapon the Jedi's compatriot had wielded, the other now sought to find a way offworld - which immediately grew fleeting as another presence began to emerge. A presence she had at one point been vaguely familiar with during her then-loyalty to then-Emperor
Darth Carnifex
.The presence of
Darth Voyance
.Lights flickered across the horizon, auroras generated by the ionized particles from the shockwave of energy the heretic Sith had produced making contact with the world's atmosphere. The intensity of charge within the world's electromagnetic field was something presumably unseen in history - auroras were not uncommon, especially on planets orbiting stars that at least semiregularly ejected coronal mass, but this was different - very, very different.
-
Fringe of Dantooine system
An order was transmitted to the flotilla of Pluton-class Battleships waiting on the edges of Dantooine. Evidently, the Gorgon no longer required their assistance against the traitor NIO fleet assets. So it was that they had been redirected to Dantooine, in order to help further extract any stranded Sith assets from the system. Their hyperdrives activated as the reservists exited the system, on their way to a nebulous and uncharted domain.
Whether they would be prepared for what they found was a completely different question entirely.
Darth Interitus
Character
Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Sith Tomb
Allies:
Kascalion Giedfield
Darth Vinaze
Darth Voyance
Vora Kaar
Enemies: TSE, GA,
Milou Ishkal
The Dark Man had watched madness and Chaos play out on the tomb world of the Sith. Interitus was sent ahead of the fleet arriving. Having slipped in easily during the chaos. It seemed to most that Interitus was nothing more than a feeble old man. Hardly a threat to most, and among the red sands of this world blood was split between the invading forces of the Galactic Alliance, and those defending the false empire that had tarnished the very name Sith. The Sith Lord was merely an emissary of his Dread Lord. Having been tasked with watching over the battle as only an observer and nothing more. As it was paramount that the reveal of the Warlords was meant to be a surprise of sorts.
Wandering in only dark robes. His mask removed to show a face that had aged more, than what he actually was. A sign of constant dark side corruption. Marveling at the carnage, and the fury all around. Jedi and Sith were slain out in the open. All he did was watch as it unfolded around him. For he remembered there was a time on which Interitus served the Empire. Even given a position as Overseer during the occupation of Commenor. Yet when his career and position failed, he spent time far from it all. Now he had returned serving on the behalf of the one that would destroy the Sith Empire, and reforge the Sith from within. A Sith'ari for an age. Now he had been only watching the fighting from within an opening of one of the tombs. Masking his presence in the Force, and even if someone discovered him. He was more than enough to deal with them.
"All this life and resources wasted for what? For one rock that's nothing more than a giant graveyard." He spoke throughout the turmoil of it all. While yes Korriban was hailed as a holy world of the Sith. Interitus believed that while as sacred as they would. Like the Empire such things needed to die. It was the only way that the Sith would be strong with both the Empire and the Zambrano clan wiped out. Both his time within the ranks of the Empire, and in exile had led him to a more radical way of thinking to the point where he viewed today's Sith as useless. Even now he saw the proof in front of him that they aren't strong enough to fight the galaxy. A smirk came to his lips thinking of how imminent the arrival of the Dread Lord, not to mention those that defied from the shadows had joined the Sith'Ari in his quest to bring down the shared foe of theirs.
Then the moment came, as the wrist beeped red. Signaling the arrival of the Dread Lord, as well as the other Sith that joined them. The smirk quickly turned into a grin as he went deeper into the Sith tomb, while sounds of explosions, screams, and lightsabers clashing echoed throughout the decaying hall to the sarcophagus. The path dark, but only dimly lit with a few torches, and nothing more. Walking with determination, he spoke aloud the deeper he went into the tomb. "At last we reveal ourselves.... Soon this Empire will fall... The Sith born anew." He said the confidence evident within the sinister tone.
What he came to was the opened sarcophagus, the mummified remains of the Sith, pierced with several knives, and markings across the corpse. While the Warlords would make the opening stages onto the Battle. Interitus would bring forth something else entirely to the fold. Something to which test all those years spent among the darkness of Exegol. Sitting crosslegged, his hands stretched out to the desecrated corpse, speaking with the ancient tongue of the Sith. He spoke as the preparations were underway to create a ritual. One that harnessed the darkness all around him.
The time it was for the reveal, and revenge to begin.
Allies:
Kascalion Giedfield
Darth Vinaze
Darth Voyance
Vora Kaar
Enemies: TSE, GA,
Milou Ishkal
The Dark Man had watched madness and Chaos play out on the tomb world of the Sith. Interitus was sent ahead of the fleet arriving. Having slipped in easily during the chaos. It seemed to most that Interitus was nothing more than a feeble old man. Hardly a threat to most, and among the red sands of this world blood was split between the invading forces of the Galactic Alliance, and those defending the false empire that had tarnished the very name Sith. The Sith Lord was merely an emissary of his Dread Lord. Having been tasked with watching over the battle as only an observer and nothing more. As it was paramount that the reveal of the Warlords was meant to be a surprise of sorts.
Wandering in only dark robes. His mask removed to show a face that had aged more, than what he actually was. A sign of constant dark side corruption. Marveling at the carnage, and the fury all around. Jedi and Sith were slain out in the open. All he did was watch as it unfolded around him. For he remembered there was a time on which Interitus served the Empire. Even given a position as Overseer during the occupation of Commenor. Yet when his career and position failed, he spent time far from it all. Now he had returned serving on the behalf of the one that would destroy the Sith Empire, and reforge the Sith from within. A Sith'ari for an age. Now he had been only watching the fighting from within an opening of one of the tombs. Masking his presence in the Force, and even if someone discovered him. He was more than enough to deal with them.
"All this life and resources wasted for what? For one rock that's nothing more than a giant graveyard." He spoke throughout the turmoil of it all. While yes Korriban was hailed as a holy world of the Sith. Interitus believed that while as sacred as they would. Like the Empire such things needed to die. It was the only way that the Sith would be strong with both the Empire and the Zambrano clan wiped out. Both his time within the ranks of the Empire, and in exile had led him to a more radical way of thinking to the point where he viewed today's Sith as useless. Even now he saw the proof in front of him that they aren't strong enough to fight the galaxy. A smirk came to his lips thinking of how imminent the arrival of the Dread Lord, not to mention those that defied from the shadows had joined the Sith'Ari in his quest to bring down the shared foe of theirs.
Then the moment came, as the wrist beeped red. Signaling the arrival of the Dread Lord, as well as the other Sith that joined them. The smirk quickly turned into a grin as he went deeper into the Sith tomb, while sounds of explosions, screams, and lightsabers clashing echoed throughout the decaying hall to the sarcophagus. The path dark, but only dimly lit with a few torches, and nothing more. Walking with determination, he spoke aloud the deeper he went into the tomb. "At last we reveal ourselves.... Soon this Empire will fall... The Sith born anew." He said the confidence evident within the sinister tone.
What he came to was the opened sarcophagus, the mummified remains of the Sith, pierced with several knives, and markings across the corpse. While the Warlords would make the opening stages onto the Battle. Interitus would bring forth something else entirely to the fold. Something to which test all those years spent among the darkness of Exegol. Sitting crosslegged, his hands stretched out to the desecrated corpse, speaking with the ancient tongue of the Sith. He spoke as the preparations were underway to create a ritual. One that harnessed the darkness all around him.
The time it was for the reveal, and revenge to begin.
Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Outskirts of the Battle
Allies: GA
Enemies: All Sith, Imperial or Otherwise
Riyo had joined the battle late, preferring to stick to her mandate of seeking out and destroying dark artifacts while more warfare-minded Jedi focused on fighting the Sith directly. She eyed the planet with uncharacteristic disgust as she unsheathed her Missives, ready to dive into the chaotic fray as the battle continued to fray. Honestly, she was ready to leave this planet. The attuned sense of a Jedi Shadow was perfect for hunting down lone dark-siders and objects hidden amongst the people of the Galaxy, but a planet such as Korriban was as assaulting to her soul as Raxus Prime would be assaulting to her nose - and painfully so.
"Once more into the-"
The sentence was cut off as her eyes were drawn to the sky, illuminated by a blinding storm of light, paralyzing her in her tracks. A slight tremble developed in one of her toes, crawling into her foot, then her ankle and leg, slowly overtaking her until her entire body was shivering at the cold, unforgiving sensation of a powerful and dark presence entering the system. Uncharacteristic for the normally phlegmatic Jedi, her reasoned suspicion turned to fear, followed by crippling Paranoia. Suddenly, Riyo was incapable of moving,
Gripping her blades tightly, Riyo tried to center herself in the force. As the light side entered her soul, she channeled it into her resolve, strengthening it and pushing the fear out, and forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Standing towards the edge of the valley, she looked out over the chaos, before running forward and diving in.
Allies: GA
Enemies: All Sith, Imperial or Otherwise
Riyo had joined the battle late, preferring to stick to her mandate of seeking out and destroying dark artifacts while more warfare-minded Jedi focused on fighting the Sith directly. She eyed the planet with uncharacteristic disgust as she unsheathed her Missives, ready to dive into the chaotic fray as the battle continued to fray. Honestly, she was ready to leave this planet. The attuned sense of a Jedi Shadow was perfect for hunting down lone dark-siders and objects hidden amongst the people of the Galaxy, but a planet such as Korriban was as assaulting to her soul as Raxus Prime would be assaulting to her nose - and painfully so.
"Once more into the-"
The sentence was cut off as her eyes were drawn to the sky, illuminated by a blinding storm of light, paralyzing her in her tracks. A slight tremble developed in one of her toes, crawling into her foot, then her ankle and leg, slowly overtaking her until her entire body was shivering at the cold, unforgiving sensation of a powerful and dark presence entering the system. Uncharacteristic for the normally phlegmatic Jedi, her reasoned suspicion turned to fear, followed by crippling Paranoia. Suddenly, Riyo was incapable of moving,
Gripping her blades tightly, Riyo tried to center herself in the force. As the light side entered her soul, she channeled it into her resolve, strengthening it and pushing the fear out, and forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. Standing towards the edge of the valley, she looked out over the chaos, before running forward and diving in.
Character
“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”
― H.P. Lovecraft
Allies: WotS|
Kascalion Giedfield
|
Vora Kaar
|
Darth Interitus
|
Darth Voyance
Enemies: NJO |
Ryv
The Dark Praxeum
Cold and unfeeling were the halls of the Dark Praxeum, so much that Darth Vinaze moved through them almost unseen. The presence of the Sith Lord was made known only by the echoing of his footstep, that ominous clinking of metal that was carried across the dead silence of the halls. He was the demon hidden in the dark corners of a mind, who vanishes upon waking from a dream. This was the way he wished it to be.
It had only been a handful of years since he walked these halls, though in many ways he was walking them again for the first time. He had become a different man since then, a different… being. Derleth Par had strided past these black walls as a Keeper of the Sith Code. Darth Vinaze now skulked in the shadows as a lord of the Dread Ascendancy.
The time for action drew nearer with every step he took. The Praxeum would reach Korriban at any moment, and the end would begin. It was the heart and soul of a failed state and a fallen people. Within a few hours the galaxy would know that the true revenge of the Sith was at hand. Vinaze had a simple role on this day of battle. It was not world-shaking, but the collection and safekeeping of knowledge was of utmost importance to bring glory back to the Sith.
His target? The most illustrious of Sith tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords: the Tomb of Ajunta Pall. Millennia of history and artifacts surrounded the resting place of the first Dark Lord, and if they could be recovered in the name of the Warlords, they could be put to proper use.
The doors ahead of him opened at the sound of his approach. The doors led into a small hangar, where inside rested a shuttle that would take him to the battle below. A dozen men of the Sith species bustled around the hangar, making any last minute corrections in order to avoid the ire of their master. As Vinaze stepped through the doors, the room fell completely still, save for the dancing lights of hyperspace outside the magnetic shield. He descended the black metal catwalk, making sure not to meet the eyes of his lessers. The ramp of the shuttle came down to meet him, beckoning him one step further towards the destiny of the Sith.
Valley of the Dark Lords
Fear filled the hearts and minds of both Jedi and Sith as the Dark Praxeum loomed over the world. In the moments that they ceased their slaughter to gaze in awe at the arcing lightning across the sky, Vinaze entered the battle in the shadows. They did not realize the gravity of the Dark Praxeum's arrival, and for they did not understand it, they feared it.
The shuttle only barely touched the scorched red sands of Korriban when it’s ramp lowered. The Sith Lord marched down the ramp with a rare vigour, unbecoming of his frailty. But now was not the time for excuses of weakness. The dark side animated him now more than ever. Following in his wake were the dozen or so abominations of his personal guard. Once they had been pure-blooded Sith, but on this day they returned to their ancestral world as shadows of their former selves, bound to the will of a dark entity, called to a higher purpose. Without haste they marched towards the imposing archway of the tomb.
Within the walls of the tomb, the dark side was receding, pushed back by the warriors of the light with every Sith they killed. But like the shores that receded before a great and terrible wave, the darkness would return to this place in force.
“Zveris, begin your search. Leave no stone unturned.” Vinaze put emphasis on the Sith word for abomination as he addressed his guards. Their intellect had been stripped from them to make brutish, unfeeling killers. Sentience had no place on the killing fields. They would strip this tomb bare and kill any who stood in their way, Jedi or Sith.
“Holocrons, tablets, weapons and armour. Find these things with haste.” As he spoke, he began pointing down the different hallways of the tomb. The abominations broke off from him in pairs, leaving him alone. He began at a slow pace down the large central tunnel, lined with crumbling statues, empty sarcophagi, and dusty vases with no worth to anybody.
Walking down and deeper for some time, he happened upon a grand sacrificial chamber. Aside from the altar in the room’s center, there was precious little else. Acolytes were instructed to bring their own daggers and other ritual equipment to such places. He could sense that no acolytes had been here recently, but the presence of the light side still lingered. A Jedi had at least passed through this place. Where it had gone Vinaze could not sense, but he was well aware that the battle outside was turning in favour of the Alliance, and that more Jedi could be on their way at any time. Perhaps they sought shelter from the arrival of the terrible pyramid ship looming above, or perhaps they would come seeking the same as him. In either scenario, they would be trapped in here with him...
Light Sith
The starfigher hung aloft, floating as a pinprick in the emptiness of realspace. Things were different here, in the void between the stars. The Galaxy was endless vast, endlessly infinite, it was something that Mlow understood well during his travels. Sublight wasn’t optimal for travel speeds, but the screeching of the engine and the bleeding slashes of starlight would begin to pound away at one’s mind for too long. Lightyears upon lightyears away from any point of light. He couldn’t even begin to guess their purpose or number from this distance. Splotches of whites, reds, and blues slapped onto the black canvas. With clouds of burgundy and blue torn through here and there where the artist had smeared his design. If his hyperdrive had suddenly decided not to work, he would die out here. Such a simple thing, an electronic failure, and he would die. Nothing that could be done to save him. That was simply the way of things, the reality of Space, of the Galaxy at large.
It was here that the Force had always been strongest for him.
As the starfighter aimlessly danced through the dark matter, drifting this way and that, and the speakers staticed out various radio frequencies. The Kudon allowed himself to enter a meditative state.
There, in the void, was the home of the Unifying Force.
It always brought itself to him in the same way, a slow glow growing brighter and brighter on the edges of his sight. Betraying him at first for real light breaking through his eyes. Gentle, so gently did the glow grow and morph. Bright streaks of multicolored cracks settling across his vision. Cooler shades of blue, green, and purple. A facsimile of nebulae. He had the feeling of reaching forward, through the bright, colored nothingness.
An outstretched hand that was never there, breaching some unseen barrier.
Freefall.
He fell and fell and fell through the miasma of shades and splashes. Long crying walls of melodic blues, brackish greens, dragging him deeper and deeper in the abyss. Tumbling head over heels. Sections of his bodyglove catching on thorns and bramble that reached out from the walls.
Then, as suddenly as he began the fall, with a blink he was on solid ground once again. The colors decayed into muted greys and blacks, flickering oranges of torchlights attached to castle walls manifested. Cobblestone flooring that begged him onwards, beyond a brightly lit archway of morning light blaring through. Every step forward seemed to shudder him backwards, further and further away from his destination as the doorway grew more and more distant. The light on the otherside becoming dimmer, dimmer, and dimmer.
The stonework gave way and he threw himself forward, feet clawing through the ground, kicking up the masonry like gravel. Tearing onwards, the Sith pushed himself through the archway.
He came upon the otherside, on a balcony lined with a wooden guard. The sky way lazy with gloom, with fat clouds hanging overhead, making the atmosphere hold the same shade as the castle. Over the balcony, in the courtyard below him, sat a grand statue. Chipped with upmost care into the persona of the Obelisk. Standing tall and resplendent in his full set of armor, the Wolfblade held aloft in his hand and pointed directly forward. Purpose and reason to his stance.
The drawbridge fell, Mlow’s eyes snatching to it instantly. And on the otherside stood a figure, imposing and dark. Screaming winds whipped around the man.
He took a step forward, and the edge of the blade the statue held aloft began to tear away like paper. The stonework ripping back and revealing holo-screen static in the space it previously occupied.
Again, and again, the form walked forward, burning away the texture of the statue with every step. Blade, hilt, hand, arm. Peeling away. Screeching into the void.
Mlow moved his mouth, attempting to scream, to demand the man stop. That he stop destroying what little remained. No sound came out, however, the figure’s march ceased.
The hooded head, eyes still secluded, looked up at the Kudon.
Held up a hand, the figure snapped his fingers, echoing through the entire world.
A second later, the floor gave way under Mlow, and he fell into a world of static, screaming a single name, a single place…
Kascalion… Korriban....
~~
Mlow snapped to awareness, the controls of his starfighter suddenly very real in his hands again before he even blinked his eyes back into reality. Gasping for air as he leaned forward, nearly slamming his head off of the viewport in front of him. Shaking, cold and violent shivers through his body.
There were little thoughts going through his head, though one demanded his attention.
He tapped away, inserting the coordinates to the system...
~~
[made by
Kascalion Giedfield
]
///
Kascalion Giedfield
\\\
Mlow snapped to awareness, the controls of his starfighter suddenly very real in his hands again before he even blinked his eyes back into reality. Gasping for air as he leaned forward, nearly slamming his head off of the viewport in front of him. Shaking, cold and violent shivers through his body.
There were little thoughts going through his head, though one demanded his attention.
He tapped away, inserting the coordinates to the system...
~~
[made by
Kascalion Giedfield
]///
Kascalion Giedfield
\\\
Beautiful, isn't she?
Felucia had gone well, though he thought it had gone too well. When the Ouroboros and the rest of his task force dropped out of Hyperspace over Korriban he'd seen the reason why; a massive Sith armada, much larger than originally anticipated, had amassed over the planet. While all indications of the ground battle seemed to be in the Jedi and GADF's favor, space was a different story. They had arrived just in time it seemed to turn the tide. The battle was long, it was still going in fact and had devolved into an outright brawl with vessels from both sides tearing through the stars and lighting up the darkness with turbolaser fire, missile flares, ion blasts and hard thruster burns.
The Ouroboros was a massive ship, and an easy target. Even with its impressive shields and armor and its wide array of weapons it was struggling against so many vessels. It was difficult for Pryce to keep up with all of it.
"Fires on turbolaser deck 3,"
"Our hangars are getting crowded! We need more support on hangar deck 11!"
"Ion cannon blisters 7, 11, and 20 are down!"
"We just picked up some of our Jedi from the surface. Captain Treicolt and a Master Jade."
"Spinal mass driver is 95 % ready to fire!" Finally, good news. Pryce swiveled in his command chair to face the special gun crew pit that ran the ship's main weapon, a massive hypervelocity cannon that ran the length of the ship, nearly the full 10 km. THey'd taken down two battlecruisers with the weapon before. He was hoping for a few more this time around.
"Fire when ready," Pryce shouted over the thunderous cacophony of the bridge.
"Sir, we're getting some very strange readings, lots of cronau radiation, and I mean A LOT," What? More Sith reinforcements? He looked to his tactical then flinched when a sound like thunder crackled over the ship's advanced aural sensors. Wait, thunder? Korriban wasn't a nebula and the closest one was 9 parsecs away.
"What in all Nine Corellian Hells," he trailed off as a massive creature's tentacle slammed through a row of battleships off to their starboard. What looked like a Sith temple floated from a maelstrom, or rather the maelstrom floated around it.
"Firing!" Just then, something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he put that book down. It was like a cold, wet, dark tentacle had slithered up his spine and clenched his heart.
"Wait! Belay that-" The gun fired but just then the maelstrom came, tearing through the amassed fleets. Lightning of colors he could only associate with that dark feeling twisted through the decks, the shockwave making the entire Startide-class Star Defender shudder. The gun fired but the coils were shut off, slowing the projectile from its potential max velocity. Under normal circumstances it would have left the barrel, however, as the maelstrom arced over the projectile the energy split it apart, sending hypervelocity shrapnel through the decks. Some of it even cut through the internal bridge, sending blood, durasteel, glass, and people through the air as the ship powered down and they were pitched into darkness. He was awakened by claxons and dim red emergency lighting. With effort he managed to push the hulking body of a Baselisk crewmember from his chest, noticing the body float away with little effort. When Pryce started to float up he activated his mag boots and felt sucked to the floor. He heard groans and moans from all over, a squad of the Ouroboros' marines were on the scene with medics doing what they could.
"Admiral," came the voice of one of the marines. "The auxiliary CIC is already up and active, they've started the fight up once again. Far as we can tell the damage has taken most of our guns offline though. Won't be much of a fight for much longer." He cursed under his breath. How had this all gone so wrong? Pryce nodded, placing a hand to his head where he felt something wet and sticky.
"I'll take any medical treatment you were about to order me to take in the new CIC. Get me a line to Captain Treicolt. Tell her to meet in the secondary CIC. I need to figure out exactly what kind of karking Sith Pit we've gotten ourselves into." With that he stormed off, holding a synth cloth to his forehead. The halls were also lit only with the emergency lighting. Had something hit the reactor? No, even then the secondary and tertiaries would have kicked in.. That strange Sith maelstrom must be affecting their start up sequence. Damn it all.
Loske Treicolt
Romi Jade
Darth Voyance
The Ouroboros was a massive ship, and an easy target. Even with its impressive shields and armor and its wide array of weapons it was struggling against so many vessels. It was difficult for Pryce to keep up with all of it.
"Fires on turbolaser deck 3,"
"Our hangars are getting crowded! We need more support on hangar deck 11!"
"Ion cannon blisters 7, 11, and 20 are down!"
"We just picked up some of our Jedi from the surface. Captain Treicolt and a Master Jade."
"Spinal mass driver is 95 % ready to fire!" Finally, good news. Pryce swiveled in his command chair to face the special gun crew pit that ran the ship's main weapon, a massive hypervelocity cannon that ran the length of the ship, nearly the full 10 km. THey'd taken down two battlecruisers with the weapon before. He was hoping for a few more this time around.
"Fire when ready," Pryce shouted over the thunderous cacophony of the bridge.
"Sir, we're getting some very strange readings, lots of cronau radiation, and I mean A LOT," What? More Sith reinforcements? He looked to his tactical then flinched when a sound like thunder crackled over the ship's advanced aural sensors. Wait, thunder? Korriban wasn't a nebula and the closest one was 9 parsecs away.
"What in all Nine Corellian Hells," he trailed off as a massive creature's tentacle slammed through a row of battleships off to their starboard. What looked like a Sith temple floated from a maelstrom, or rather the maelstrom floated around it.
"Firing!" Just then, something he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he put that book down. It was like a cold, wet, dark tentacle had slithered up his spine and clenched his heart.
"Admiral," came the voice of one of the marines. "The auxiliary CIC is already up and active, they've started the fight up once again. Far as we can tell the damage has taken most of our guns offline though. Won't be much of a fight for much longer." He cursed under his breath. How had this all gone so wrong? Pryce nodded, placing a hand to his head where he felt something wet and sticky.
"I'll take any medical treatment you were about to order me to take in the new CIC. Get me a line to Captain Treicolt. Tell her to meet in the secondary CIC. I need to figure out exactly what kind of karking Sith Pit we've gotten ourselves into." With that he stormed off, holding a synth cloth to his forehead. The halls were also lit only with the emergency lighting. Had something hit the reactor? No, even then the secondary and tertiaries would have kicked in.. That strange Sith maelstrom must be affecting their start up sequence. Damn it all.
Loske Treicolt
Romi Jade
Darth Voyance
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Beltran Rarr
Character
Beltran looked up as the pyramidal vessel entered the planet's atmosphere. Through the Force, Beltran could feel the waves of darkness pulsating outward. Once, a time not so long ago, the sheer power of it would have threatened to overwhelm the tentative peace of the Lorrdian's mind. But he had grown stronger as of late, more powerful and more disciplined. On Pillio, he had truly touched the Dark Side for the first time. He had used it, enjoyed it even, but he had not fallen to it. He remained the man he'd always been. Unyielding, unrelenting, but firmly in control of his own faculties.
"...But I have a feeling that we will soon find out, from a military point of view, not to mention the Sith side, this place, Korriban is a gold mine. If these are really some kind of renegade Sith, chances are a ground offensive will also start. What do you think about this?"
Beltran returned his attention to the leader of the Eternal Empire and nodded. "I agree," He told her simply. "The Bryn'adul aren't ones for subtlety. I doubt they would have waited until the battle was this far along before attacking. As soon as a target presented itself, they would have assaulted in full force."
Beltran didn't know much about the plans of the NIO, but he also somehow doubted that they were behind this either. Their war against the Sith-Imperials was a bloody thing, indeed. They wouldn't want to risk whatever support they were receiving from the GA on such a maneuver. So that left someone else. Renegade Sith? Perhaps. In the end it didn't really matter who there were as much as what he and
Ingrid L'lerim
were going to do about it."The question then is, where do we throw our support?" He knew Ingrid was a supporter of the Sith-Imperials, at least in so much as she had to be in order to further her goals. Beltran was staunchly against them, but that didn't mean that he was willing to throw his support behind whoever these new players were.
In the distance, a loud boom sounded as the pyramid ship came to a landing near one of the other tombs. A shockwave flew outward, kicking up dust and other debris. Soon enough, the new players would be landing whatever forces they'd come with. Beltran could sit back and watch from a distance. He really didn't have a Vornskyr in this fight, but that wasn't his style.
Hefting his rifle, Beltran turned in the direction of the pyramid. "I think I'd like to go say hello." He said after a moment of consideration. "Perhaps you'd care to join me?"
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A Legacy In Flames
----------
It'd been a lot, and a series more worth of events transpired that led to her going comatose for several months, but following her resignation she plotted on getting back on the line despite her health. The war had already been raging on Felucia for a bit and she was being sent in to reinforce but that was all cut short before the pressure of a collision after being shot down had her bouncing like a rag doll -- and event that would have turned her ship into a fiery metal coffin.
Really, all she remembers is the fire racing toward the cockpit, the turbulence and then the impact. Everything was black until she somehow was then groggily, crawling forward pained by the notion of clawing her way to safety; she grabbed a fistful of sand, dirt, debris -- whatever she could to help drag her forward with a groan and focused on trying to regulate her aches while she rolled to her side to look at the fiery mess that used to be her ship
Before knocking out again.
How long had she been out...
No clue.
Her beacon was sufficient enough to allow allies to find her, and so she found herself being treated again and more extensively on the Ouroboros. A ship that belonged to Dracken Pryce...a man she only remembers working with once before at the Battle of Balmorra, but she only recalled the name; she couldn't put a face to it at all.
"And you don't feel any sense of dizziness, nausea?"
"No," subsequently shaking her head in response, "I'm a bit sore but...that's all really."
"And..you've just recovered from a coma?" The medic winced at the thought, confused but no so surprised as to whom he was dealing with. "No issues with memory loss?"
"Some months ago--no, I feel fine." She retorted, sighing at the implication that she shouldn't be.
"Well...your vitals look good...your resilience is astonishing but you are a Jedi so..." He hesitated, she felt the anxiety build in the room to which she glanced over at him, "But...there is something else. Yo-You are pregnant."
Heuh
She shot off the table, "I-that's not possible. I-can't get-" She stopped herself. The former Grand Master and previous Shadow Hand sensed the days-old life growing inside her; it would be months before her body began to show any physical signs of her condition. And now, she was really struggling with maternal feelings.
But then she was overcome with the deepest sense of dread she had ever experienced -- and immediately after that the pair were ripped away from each other, being thrown across the room in opposite direction. The dark feeling that twisted and turned in the air had welled up and exploded like a bomb. A maelstrom of chaos washed over everything as the lights shattered and went dark.
She was on a collision course with durasteel platting as the ship seemed to tilt a second; she hit hard.
Mmhmneh
She grunted in pain as she propped herself up, lurching with what she strength she had. More bruises
But she'd always been a fighter, and out of concern for others well-being and...her child, she got up. The medic had been laying under sprawled across the floor unconscious but she could feel the life permeating deep inside him.
What the kark!
--------
Darth Voyance
Dracken Pryce
Loske Treicolt
Darth Sinestruss
Lord Kizash
Last edited:
soft epilogue
ABOVE KORRIBAN // HORUSET SYSTEM // OUROBOROS
OBJECTIVE: COVER JEDI RESCUE EFFORTS FROM ABOVE
ROCK YOU LIKE A HURRICANE
Things had been operating relatively expectantly until Loske felt an inclination of dread in the back of her mind. A chill at the nape of her neck was the only warning before erratic currents convulsed about the ship’s exterior, penetrating the hull. Unnartually charged particles skittered throughout the ship, shaking it’s typical access to power and disrupting the convenience of visibility. They were pitched into darkness in the instant they were tossed about randomly. The ship’s tremorous response eliminated her balance, and she reached out to grip at whatever component in the sprawling hallways would assist with little avail.
The world went white.
Something pushed her, and something hurt, and the sound of her suit radio was still there but it was faintly distant. Her body seemed very large like it had expanded to fill the universe, or the universe had shrunk down until it fit in her skin. Her hands seemed a very long way away. Someone was talking to her.
The emergency lights flickered on about the same time Loske understood what someone was saying to her. The seconds (maybe minutes) that followed were a blinking whirlwind of concussive confusion, and ensuring those around were medically redeemable, and if they couldn’t activate their own boots, she activated them for the crewmembers so they wouldn’t float away or get squashed by something unforeseen. All the while, urgent chatter about the ship’s condition floated through the crew’s shared channels.
“Oh no,” she murmured, the dreadful sensation she’d felt earlier permeated with a congealing grip throughout her muscles. The miasmic feeling took shape, and she glanced into the comms and radars that were shared
For a bit of distance, Loske used the ship’s metal skeleton to kick off and navigate through with the gravity cut off –– weightlessly cutting through the atmosphere as if swimming through the hallways. For all intents and purposes, propelling herself from beam to beam seemed a quicker, more efficient method of travel rather than clunking around on mag-fitted boots.
She curved through the air and hovered just around the corner from the med bay before she activated her self-contained gravity, and stomped into the crisp white facility. Everything within was chaotic. Medical equipment, bodies, bedding, all in floating chaos.
Loske wasted no time to evidence concern around privacy and doctor-to-patient relationships. A quick assessment of the individuals in the room, and how disarrayed it was, gave her no reason to dilute her disquietedness. The medic lead was mashed against the space where the wall and floor met, awkwardly stuck by something that weighed him down and Master Jade seemed...fine enough to engage. Loske felt herself exhale a breath of relief.
“Master Jade,” she panted “You’re fine, good, great, we’re going to need your help. A ship too big to just sit and look pretty and intimidate just showed up."
Loske screwed her eyes shut for a moment “I feel -–” the Master didn’t need to know about her afflictions, she needed only to understand the immediacy of Loske’s fright.
After a heartbeat’s pause, she continued. “And..the crew here are not ready for this, they’re good but ––” she was interrupted by a ping on her comms, an urgent relay from Admiral Pryce. The message was to meet, which..made sense given she was a Jedi aboard a significantly Force-related planet, entangled in a Force-generated storm. Pursing her lips and quirking brows in unison, she made an accepting face and relayed her agreement for the offer before turning back to Romi. “–– I’m going to need your help when you’re ready.”
Another ping, louder, emphasized over her channel. Loske cut whatever additional explanation short in favour of urgency. <On the way, Admiral. In the meantime, whatever able crew you can mobilize need to fortify any airlocks or areas vulnerable to unwanted entrances.> She grimaced and hoped the other Jedi were in a far more favourable position.
To Romi, she made a face, something like an apology pulling at the edges of her mouth before she started backing out of the doorframe and giving another once over to the woman who’d inarguably given them far more of a fighting chance on Honoghr; “You are okay, right?”
Any further dialogue would be carried over the trek to the designated information centre where Pryce’d be waiting for them.
ALLIES|GA|NJO|
Romi Jade
|
Dracken Pryce
FOES|SITH|
Darth Voyance
Eternal Empress
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag:
Beltran Rarr
The temple was also nearby, but it was not surprising for her that this was exactly the place chosen for the landing, as she said earlier, this place was a gold mine. Also knew that not all the tombs had been found, that there could still be countless ancient Sith finds in the undiscovered tombs. In many thousands of years, much will disappear under the sand. It was hard to decide what to do. It is quite likely that they will try to search every available tomb and then they find him as well.
"If there really are any renegade Sith, they will attack the temple and with it the academy and will probably want to loot the graves and tombs…"
At least in military and other terms, she would do that. From a military point of view, the temple and thus the academy seemed the logical point, and if one wanted to inflict a serious wound on the souls of the Sith, not to mention the relic and artefact collection, then the tombs were the other option. Was aware that she would probably have to cooperate with Beltran against the attackers, against which she had no real objection. At the man's suggestion, the Empress hesitated for a few moments.
"I would love to stay here to protect this place. You were right, Captain, both on Voss and now, my husband is in the tomb and working on something. I don't know if the demons will be enough against these if they set out to plunder the graves…" admitted reluctantly.
Beltran Rarr
Character
Beltran turned to face
Ingrid L'lerim
, his face masked by his helmet. Had she seen his expression, she might have noticed a slight sense of satisfaction at her reluctant honesty. On Voss, she had argued with him so vehemently that there was nothing and nobody of value in the Tower of Prophecy that he had been reminded of an ancient play he'd once watched on Lorrd. In it, there had been a line that struck him as particularly apt. "The Lady doth protest too much, methinks." He said softly, remembering the line. To Ingrid, he said. "Thank you for your honesty. In return for it, I will help you defend this tomb until whatever it is your husband is doing in complete. Then I will covered your escape from this place as best I can."
Though Beltran realized that he had gained an advantage on the woman with this revelation, he quickly decided that Ingrid would likely be far better use to him as an ally, if never truly a friend. She was the leader of the Eternal Empire and a powerful Force User in her own right. He could learn much from her, and perhaps a working relationship could be forged between himself and her Empire.
Regardless of what happened here today, Beltran knew that the Silver Concord would need whatever aid they could get to hold back the Bryn'adul from their onslaught. And if he could somehow undermine the Eternal Empire's allegiance with the Sith-Imperials? Well that wouldn't be a bad thing either. Nothing, in his opinion, would be better than to watch Carnifex's Empire fall into a bunch of factions warring amongst themselves.
"We should do whatever we can to fortify this position," He told her, the soldier in him taking over from the ambition. "I have some Akk dog portable shield generators on my ship if you can spare a few men to help bring them over. My astromech can show them where they're stored. Otherwise, let's start moving any crates that we can afford to lose into positions around the tomb's entrance. We'll need cover when whatever is on the ship get's here."
Eternal Empress
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
Objective: Protect Adrian Vandiir from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag:
Beltran Rarr
"Coverage is no longer likely to be needed, but thank you for the rest!"
She was aware that the man had an advantage over her, but really couldn’t do anything else in that situation. If only there had been some Karza’Arana with them, like on Voss, but they weren’t even here now. Anyway, tried to pay more attention to and focus on what was ahead of them rather than what could have been. She was not thinking about the distant future now, which was rare, just trying to concentrate on the present. Because for her, Adrian's safety was really important here now, nothing else. Not to mention that dust was visible from the direction of the landed ship as the enemy came out of the ship and headed for the valley.
"Widzok diâ tadti' uk ri widnasa!"
Said in High Sith while making a few gestures with her hands. Her eyes glowed in a purple light, but it was not visible because of the helmet she was wearing. After the words, the sand at their feet moved in several places, thickened to several points, until finally six sand demons came together from the sand and stones that were nearby and appeared near Beltran and Ingrid.
"The demons can help you pack, as can the Wolfguards. We have only what you have seen, objects that are for a museum, nothing more. There are also such repositories in the first chamber of the tomb, which can be used as barricades and shelters, and there are no priceless finds in them either. But we have to hurry, I don’t think it would take the enemy too long to get here."