Dominion Games Without Frontiers | SO Dominion of Kerest & Bpfassh

[Darth Empyrean]

​

As the war efforts of the Emperor push forward in the Stygian Caldera, his orders for expansion in the core worlds continue. Coruscant grows closer by the hour, and the core worlds would soon face an assault from two fronts. For now, however, the infrastructure was being built for a long and dedicated conflict - heavy and inexorable, the Emperor’s war machine marches forward.​

​

The first of these worlds was Kerest and Bpfassh, two who had refused to submit to the great Sith march. In their efforts, they drew an alliance of great import from the various neutral worlds yet separate from the Galactic Alliance’s protection. Formalized in words alone, Bpfassh calls upon the other world representatives to their capital to discuss the coordinated military efforts.​

​

This meeting has been leaked to the Sith, and from their insult of not inviting us, we have invited ourselves. Tibrin, Dasoor, Echnos, Dorvalla, and many other worlds sat present. The most immediate concern, however, was the arrival of the Kerest representative - a soldier who had come from his home with a plea.​

​

For the protection of his world, he pleaded for their support. On their icy world, the Sith had begun their siege of their capital, a fort built deep into the ice shelves of the world, crystallized and defended by many miles of proverbial protection. With their closed gates, the Sith hold a siege over their world, threatening to collapse its autonomy in a matter of months.​

​

Now, the Sith begin their move…​

​

Objective I: War Without Tears​

The Bpfassh Council has convened with the Entente’s representatives, and they begin discussing military agreements and coordination against the Sith. We were not invited, and thus have invited ourselves. The Sith join the congregation in a flashy show - the immediate arrival of guards, and nobility from the various powers within the Sith Order.​

​

Let this Entente know of our strength, and convene with them the diplomatic future they face. Surrender to the Sith and save their worlds from war, or deny the Sith, and face all the consequences that come with it. The worlds gathered here should know better than attempt to stand against our might.​

​

Objective II: Whistling Tunes​

​

There lay under the ice, a capital of warrior people, mercenaries and bounty hunters across the galaxy. Their great ice walls have closed and our drills bog in the millenia old ice. Now our camps wait - as weeks turn into months, and we continue to drill with shutdowns and machine failures. Our siege has essentially ceased, and we expect to know why.​

​

Somewhere in the camp lay spies, set upon us by mercenary contacts and cartels with vested interest in Kerest’s freedom. Their warrior peoples belong to the Sith, and no foreign intervention can save them. You are tasked with the interrogation, investigation, and subsequent execution of any and all traitors you find.​

​

The Sith must be purified, so that our drills will break this capital before there would be allies can rally, and move to break our siege efforts.​

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Objective I: War Without Tears​

Drazen moved into the council room with a regal step, his grin wide and devious. Before him were the Death Troopers assigned to their enclave - who had viciously taken down local security with almost entirely non lethal means. Now, as they took positions of support and guarding, Sith began to march into the hall - there upon to look at the snivelling cowards who had thought to test them.​

​

Dozens of representatives from worlds large and small alike, some with grim looks of stalwart stoicism, others with a growing brow of sweat and downcast eyes. They had not expected the Sith's arrival in such a manner, but they would expect even less that they had come to talk. Drazen would simply be the first of those who had come to do so.​

​

He found an empty seat near the middle of the great table, cast aside some papers, and then put his boots up onto the table. His hands nested themselves, entwined in his lap, and he looked around with an expecting expression. A few met his gaze with confusion, but with no answer, he finally sighed and loudly exclaimed;​

​

"Well, tell me what you're talking about.", he said with a tired, exhausted tone.​

​

A few of them clambered up further, more downcast their eyes, but a man from the nearby world of Tibrin stood and spoke with a confidence of a general. He was an Ishi Tib, an aquatic thing with a genetic inferior that made Drazen sick. He let the man speak, since nobody else rose to the occasion, but this would be rectified in time.​

​

"We have gathered to discuss the death of your Order, and the alliance of our free worlds against it.", he said through his beak like mouth.​

​

"Have you? Well that is interesting, because we've come to discuss your surrender. Once my compatriots come in that is...", he said with a lazy glance back to the door.​

 

[Taresa Kae]

Tag: Open​

Objective II: Whistling Tunes
Kerest
Siege Camp

Cold as the ice around her, she cleaned and sharpened her many blades. Spies indeed, a spy of the highest caliber, she moved with absolute commitment to the galactic alliance's end, replacing it with the Sith Code in the core systems. Her face perfectly mimicked the dead Sith she had replaced, and her aura adapted to match, even down to the mannerisms. Spotting the Kae Killer while she was incognito might require a Master's level of attention to detail, or a more profound familiarity with the woman behind the facial surgery. She had spent weeks learning her target's identity, mimicking it precisely, with a matching Force aura. Spotting her deception could be difficult, as she barely had any self-identity other than her role.

Judgment moved as a silent observer through the ranks of the Sith forces, observing and reporting to the One Sith on the progress into the core, something they had long awaited since their defeat by the Galactic Alliance. While attending to her simple duties of fetching or carrying, she observed hunting for spies under cover of her identity, her mission such that any suspicious activity might look normal.

The question of who was more worthy of the crown lingered: a long-time ally and powerful rival, or a glorious dark empire? This remained undecided by the Kethenite forces poised to attack alongside the darker powers. Not that it mattered to them; the only certainty was that the alliance would burn. On Coruscant, the fires were already lit, here and here, with One Sith Agents always on the ground. The enemy would suffer eternally if Keth had his way. Though they had pushed the threat off-world, they had never purged it, and forgiveness for being killed was hard to come by.

Judgment did not share Centax's incessant need for glory and personal retribution, or Keth's desire for eternal suffering; she stood in Keth's shadow, his legacy, serving as his hand and will. Yet, ambition flared within her heart. She sought more than just being one of his many tools. As she walked among her peers, a spy seeking spies, a brief opportunity arose for a manipulative Sith Lord or Lady clever enough to spot her and take her service as their own. If they could navigate the bonds of her loyalty, dedication to the code, and sense her wanting to do more than she was in her service. In that rare case, they might even unravel a more significant opportunity. Manipulation would be key.

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Council Room - Bpfassh
Objective: I - War Without Tears
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Drazen Lutris

"Have you? Well that is interesting, because we've come to discuss your surrender. Once my compatriots come in that is...", he said with a lazy glance back to the door.

The charred, mangled body of a hapless Kerestian guard flew through the open doors leading into the council room just as the Ishi Tib general who had dared to speak up in answer to @Drazen Lutris’ question raised his voice in response. With it came the pungent, choking odors of seared flesh and burning ozone as electricity sparked, then fizzled out on the body itself. All the while, a series of gasps and restrained cries were coaxed from the lips of the gathered representatives as the masked figure responsible made her way into the room with an easy, full-hipped stride, electricity bristling at her fingertips as she did.

Scanning the assembly of representatives with an irritated sigh, 666 glanced at the lone Sith in the room—a statuesque, white-haired figure with a black patch covering his left eye—and spared him a narrowed gaze before finding her way towards the edge of the room.

Right next to the group of stunned representatives.

“Well, you all heard him. What are you waiting for? This is the part where you’re supposed to surrender.” The short-statured Aetharian added, in a slightly annoyed tone.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade (2) - R/L
  • Utility
    
    • Neahtid Earpiece
  • Droid
    
    • ASBF-X86p "Njósnari" Probe Droid
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Naedira Darcrath | Drazen Lutris | Phaelissia

Bpfassh was hot, fething hot. The forest born wolf hated it as much as he loathed the abhorrent cold of worlds like Hoth or Ilum. He had been born to roam the forest, run wild and free among the verdant foliage and the rich soil which allowed such ecosystems to exist. More than not his time among the Sith often made him realize a truth he wished to ignore.

He missed Stewjon.

Despite the cruelty of his mother and the lies she had told, his recent understanding of why she had told them brought some kind of closure to it all. Life on Stewjon felt as though it carried a lighter weight knowing he could have been raised among the Stewjoni with the burden of truth his mother had carried. She had shielded him from what would have been his to carry as a Lechner only for him to discover it after reclaiming his family’s ancestral home on Islimore.

It had been a forested world also.

A council decided to meet with the intent of seeing the Order destroyed. Word had reached Darth Empyrean about it, and his brother had taken it upon himself to see the matter closed. Gerwald would be there to do what needed to be done, whether it meant killing the insurrectionist council, or making @Drazen Lurtis disappear. The wolf did not trust him, and Gerwald was well aware of what his Echani mistress thought about the opportunist sibling.

Meetings like the one they were about to barge in had been commonplace among worlds the Confederacy of Independent Systems had brought under its banner. Gerwald and Naedira Darcrath had seen those become bloody affairs on occasion. Those governments which stood in opposition of the basic rights which belonged to every individual found the Knights Obsidian quick to use the sword as an effective means of persuasion.

The example needed to be made, and the forces Gerwald led were often the weapon wielded to make it.

Today was no different.

He let his grand stature and imposing figure be the only words the wolf needed to utter. His eyes were cold, as frigid as the icy hue of his irises appeared. It was better for the council they remain such. Should they shift to a gold and reddish taint, none of them would escape with their lives. For as powerful as the beast was with the dark side, he did not let it show. Masking his strength was something he was used to. His mother ensured he knew how to hide what he was while remaining in plain sight.

Naeidra was the equal at his side. Even though there was still much to recover and remember, her power in the force had only grown. They were still learning the effects of being bound to the Devourer, and the tether Gerwald’s very nature had created for her to the land of the living. Whatever she had become, it was something… greater. She would surpass him. The wolf knew it.

He was strong.

She was powerful.

Together they were unstoppable.

His mind touched hers, as their bond often allowed. Gerwald was not prone to using words with her when in combat. While the fighting, or the execution, had not begun yet, the posturing of battle was already evident. Besides, Drazen and 6660 did enough talking for all of them.

<< “There is only one outcome here. They should stop talking so we can get to it.” >>

The wolf inside him was impatient. It wanted to hunt.

It wanted to kill.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

There was an idea inherent in diplomatic discourse, indeed within most interactions that demanded a figure A wish of something from figure B. Some cultures referred to it as the carrot and the stick, others of sugar bread and the whip, yet they were all rather unhelpful metaphors for ones that did not know exactly the meaning.

That however was simple enough.

It was the combination of reward and punishment.

Of soft and hard power.

So it was as three figures entered the room before him, the Emperor's newly revealed brother, Drazen Lutris , a Kainite brute, Phaelissia , and a towering man who served as executioner, Gerwald Lechner , all different dimensions of the stick, making it clear what awaited resistance.

The veritable spear, club, and sheathed greatsword.

Here he was, to offer the laurel wreath.

Thus it was, that the masked figure of Darth Malum, of House Marr strode into the room, through the replica of the same face that his famous and great ancestor once wore, red eyes hidden lazily gazed about those assembled. Picking out those which were malleable, picking out who were familiar, picking out who would be difficult.

Picking out who would not survive to the night.

Following behind him, a cadaver of those dressed as much similarly to him, all apart from the mask. The shades of red and black, even with the stray golds and other such colours, their affiliations were all very clear to those who sat around, with emotions of many a tone. Well-made and chosen dresses and tailored and perfect suits were as ever the title of nobility, and they, the nobles across the Sith Empire, primarily in this case of Jutrand, Eliad, and Alvaria, who had... elected... to accompany him this day, proved certainly as much.

A stray hand came to his face, and with a hiss, mask unclamped, revealing long raven locks, an aquiline and aristocratic face, and ever-glimmering red eyes, as the mask fell into place within his robes.

Those which were quick to find themselves to the eye-patched face of an Imperial brother, and offering a silent nod of a head, before attention was drawn to those delegates which had only moments before, desired a common defence against the Sith.

The very Sith, which now stood opposite them.

The stick had been presented, and they had sat stewing in its presence, now it was time for the carrot.

"The Rimward Trade League was a greater power than what hodge potch defence you will be able to assemble in such a short time, the Rimward Trade League fell in mere hours, let alone days, shall you manage to hold minutes?" There was no mockery in his tone, no slight, simply cold hard logic, as much as he saw it, the glimmer in his eyes becoming rather dulled, his lips parsed, "Some of you will stand with great words, great ideals, beliefs, yet, they will not save you, nor your people. Kerest shall be the first to fall, but it will not be the last, lay down your arms, or better yet, join them with ours, and your people shall be spared the horror of invasion, the Dosuunian Commonwealth knew when it was better to submit, to ingratiate themselves in this inevitable march, than to simply watch as all they built came tumbling down." Malum raised his hands, bidding those among them with sense to listen, "You have one singular chance, and this is it."

 

[Lucina Centaris]

Objective II: Whistling Tunes
Kerest
Siege Camp
Tags: Taresa Kae

Was there ever a time to prove one's self within the order, it was now. To bring about a better situation for the Order so that an apprentice such as myself, an aspirant to prove their worth. Was to take out these Mercenaries, and guard this drill. Of course Despite this cold, I dressed rather... differently. As a phaseling, there was less of this world, this dimension that would affect me. One foot here, and another somewhere else. The cold, the winds, the snow, was less hindering to me. While others would require clothing to persevere against such conditions, I just had to draw upon what I knew, my abilities, to keep myself feeling more like I was just in a room with climate control.

"Go back to camp! Another Shut down."

My voice reached to the many as there were reports of possible spies within our groups. I knew it wasn't just rumors. People had been going missing. Just fading into the background with the rest of the snow and ice. Walking back, There were a couple eyes on me. Watching me as though I was weird and strange. True it was, but not for what they may think.

Reaching the surface took no time as I looked around into the light of day. The wind whipping my hair in front of my face. A hand came up and pulled it away. However now, I would have to find the foreman and get the low down on what has been happening today. Maybe, just maybe I could find these spies myself.

"I hate these reports."

 

[Rulonom Laborr]

V I C E R O Y
THE TRADE FEDERATION

Darth Malum of House Marr Phaelissia Gerwald Lechner Drazen Lutris​

---

Galactic Economists had predicted a sizeable growth in the next quarter for the Trade Federation of Planets. Such a positive outlook was mainly due to the successful construction of several new trade ports along the more prominent hyperspace routes such as the Hydian Way.

However, there was a growing concern amongst the Executive Board about the escalating costs of adding weaponry and defenses to these ports in order to protect from foreign powers and occassional pirate invasions.

The Skakoan was far more concerned with the grim outlook of the galaxy advancing ahead into 901 ABY, as the Alliance-Dark Empire Conflict threaten to spill out across the entire core.

This posed a grave threat to numerous factories and refineries owned by the Federation within these systems. To counterbalance the potential losses, they resorted to engaging in war production and arms trading to bolster their resources.

There was no better place to conduct such trading then with the Bpfassh Council and their Entente's allies, who had contacted them about potential supplies to fight against the Sith Order.

Despite the seemingly impracticality of challenging the Order's formidable Military, the lucrative contracts and mineral extract rights offered provided a compelling reason to accept the proposal.

"AWWEERORORORWEORROOROR..." Laborr manipulated the dial on the pressure suit, making necessary adjustments as the pressure gradually increased within the locks and mechanisms, resulting in an uncontrollable high-pitched squeal.

"The Sith Order arrives at the table uninvited. I sincerely trust that the Sith have something more to bring to the negotiating table beyond mere threats and intimidation?"

He inquired, employing his personal logical examination of the circumstances in front of everyone. It would prove significantly more effective to partake in dialogue rather than brandishing a lightsaber or issuing threats of annihilation towards a group of individuals.

 

[Taresa Kae]

Objective II: Whistling Tunes
Kerest
Siege Camp
Tag: Lucina Centaris

As a double or triple agent? Taresa lived entangled in that web of lies. Her every move and gesture, remained a carefully rehearsed act. Walking through the camp, embodying her Sith persona, her eyes spotting Lucina. The spy followed the protocols, maintaining a casual demeanor, not looking for long or hiding her eyes.

"I hate these reports."

Judgment looked for the same thing she was in everyone she watched, every glance a report. She would investigate as her mission demanded if she spotted that casual look returned. Lucina was not dressed for the climate but not shivering either, noted, but nothing substantial enough yet to warrant her knife.

The Kae Killer continued to where their problems could arise. The machines themselves were too obvious a target. The shutdowns would be subtle if the saboteur were skilled, and she assumed they were if they hadn't been caught.

Among the icy structures, Taresa crouched, pretending to check the stored generator's power and fuel supplies. Blowing into her hands to feign the cold her identity would feel. She was vigilant, searching for small signs of tampering, but found none. A lick of annoyance bit at her, a flicker in the force, but she maintained composure, placing a canister by the generator with careful precision, ready to be loaded later.

Cat and mouse.

The power supply checked out. She took a few alternative routes around the camp to avoid suspicion, spending another ten minutes in a storage area dealing with mundane crates. Next, Taresa examined the spare drills they were rotating to use, picking up a toolbox for cover and bending down to inspect the machines. The Kae Killer blended in seamlessly with the droids and other personnel working overtime on the siege, as if she belonged.

She thought she saw a…

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Tag: Darth Malum of House Marr // Gerwald Lechner // Rulonom Laborr // Phaelissia​

​

Drazen laughed, suddenly and almost violently. It was such a harsh noise the room seemed to fall silent, if only to at least see why he had such an outburst. In that same moment, Drazen pulled his feet from the table and leaned in the direction of the Trade Federation Representative, his grin pulled wide and taught over his skull.​

​

"Is there anything else we actually need beyond threats and intimidation?", he said with bared teeth, somewhere between a curios entertainment and a grevious threat.​

​

"The Malum child already said what needed to be said, the Trade League fell in hours - a nation of multiple planets and a cohesive military structure. Hours!", he reiterated, throwing up a hand as though it were obvious.​

​

"They had their own internal political turmoil, it was hardly a -", someone began to speak up, forcing Drazen to shoot them a harsh look.​

​

"'They had their own political turmoil'", he mocked in turn.​

​

"They had nothing we didn't set up for them - and you'll have nothing we don't set up for you. That's how the galaxy works, the strong lead the weak, and the weak serve. We came here to offer you that, a chance to save your planets, be incorporated into our great Imperium, and not face the wrath of the Emperor. What more is there than that, to save the lives of your people, and create a strong economic foundation for years to come?", he mused.​

​

"You all bandy and play at war, but it is with us you'll find out what war actually is. For those of you with doubts of what we can offer, or the assurances within, I can offer you my own support... for those who respond in kind. Trade, support, economic packages the galaxy over, and all it takes is a little sprinkle of loyalty to yours truly."​

 

[Rulonom Laborr]

V I C E R O Y
THE TRADE FEDERATION

Darth Malum of House Marr Phaelissia Gerwald Lechner Drazen Lutris
​

It seemed that the notion of non-violent negotiation was beyond the comprehension of certain individuals of the Sith Order's delegation, particularly one Drazen Lutris , whose brazen response left the room in brief silence. Such an aggressive demenaor and refusal to consider any form of peaceful resolution would only serve to escalate the tension in the already strained atmosphere of the Council.

Rulonom Laborr was unbothered by such emotional outbursts, and took the time to plan a proper evaluation of the statements made by the senior sith official before them. Each word spoken was analyzied for any underlying meaning, in order to separate the facts from passion in order to make an objective assessment of the situation.

"The Sith were once powerful contenders on the Galactic Stage, having vast territory and legions underneath their command. In the end, all their power and conquests amounted to nothing as they were overshadowed by the passage of time and the ever-changing tides of history." The Viceroy explained amidst the whirl of the intricate contraptions that were responsible for delivering methane gas into his respiratory system.

The Sith Order now was filled with backwater worlds and underutliized industrial planets that haven't reached their full potental. The Trade Federation had funded the New Imperial Order, the successor state to the Last Sith Empire within the region of Bastion and they could easily bog down the Sith by funding this rebellion as well.

"You can hardly harken yourself back to such a propserous era of strength and security, when you suffered losses against the Insane Emperor of the Lost on Felucia, and are relying on the Commonwealth to support the Sith Economy due to reckless expansionary efforts at the cost of a strong economic foundation. You'd be in a much stronger position, if you stop trying to rattle the saber." He further commented, allowing the Council to digest his words carefully and with consideration. They could strategically plan their actions against the Sith Order, taking into account the possible repercussions and consequences of their decisions.

By resisting the Sith Order and standing up against their tyranny, they could inspire others to join their cause and ignite a widespread movement of rebellion and guerrilla warfare throughout the entire empire. This domino effect would weaken the Sith Order's hold on power, power they would need for their war against the Lost Empire.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Naedira Darcrath | Drazen Lutris | Phaelissia | Darth Malum of House Marr | Rulonom Laborr

There was a weight to the sigh which escaped the lips of the Dread Wolf as he listened to the pointless dialogue which bounced around those gathered. Oceanic eyes rolled as Darth Malum of House Marr spoke. Had not Drazen Lutris just extended them the option of surrender? It would not be the most excruciating comment or posture of the meeting, however. That distinction would belong to none other than Rulonom Laborr .

Gerwald fought back a laugh, almost choking on his own breath and spit as he lifted a hand to his mouth and swallowed. A small cough would be the only sound those standing closest to him would hear in the moment, and he hoped it would conceal his particular lack of decorum. Then again, he was not the one with his feet kicked up. Srina Talon would have never stood for the wolf to behave in such a way when representing the Confederacy of Independent Systems, so he would not do so now.

He was her eyes and ears while among them.

The beast listened to the sharp words which had been selected as the chosen weapons for this particular battle. Their arguments were flawed, and the arrows they flung about so loosely missed the mark with each volley. Drazen and Malum had said what needed to be said, and Gerwald found no reason for them to entertain a fruitless debate. Finger pointing would do them no good, nor would entertaining conveniently selected propaganda filled speech. The delegate from the Trade Federation spun his facts and history beyond anything which resembled the truth.

“You seem to forget your own Federation’s track record in choosing who to back,” Gerwald levied toward the Skakoan. “Whatever happened to the New Imperial Order? Were they not consumed by the Brotherhood of the Maw and broken by the Galactic Alliance?”

The wolf paused briefly. He could not believe he was engaging in this discussion, and while he expected the Viceroy would have some kind of rebuttal, those in the council chamber needed to understand one thing.

They would surrender or they would die.

“Nations rise and fall, but the Sith are eternal. You would do well to remember that over the past several millennia when one Sith falls, another rises to take its place. Besides, as you so astutely pointed out, we were not invited to this council, and why would we have been when the topic of discussion is our end.”

Gerwald took a step forward.

“Are our resources so overextended that we did not find out about this or unable to meet it with a measured and appropriate response? The fact we are here, without an invitation, is more than enough evidence that we are not grasping for something which is beyond our reach or power to acquire.”

Looking to Malum and Drazen, the wolf wondered what they would think for a brief moment. He had spoken more words in the past minute than he usually uttered in most gatherings of this nature.

Quiet seemed to wash over the assembly once more before a low murmur rose as each began to whisper their opinions amongst themselves. How would they answer the question which the wolf had posed? Did they see his point though the muddy sludge which the envoy of the Trade Federation offered to sow confusion around what had been a rather direct presentation from the Sith.

“Allow me to be even more direct. Surrender is the only peaceful solution you are being offered. If you refuse, Darth Empyrean will unleash his Wrath upon you, and you will die.”

The wolf bared his teeth, letting the shift enough to allow his fangs to become visible through his wicked smile. His mind turned to his mate, nudging her to let the she-wolf stir. The creature Naedira Darcrath possessed was far more terrifying than his.

“Every single one of you.”

 

[Rovic Saphron]

Objective: 1
Tags: Gerwald Lechner | Drazen Lutris | Darth Malum of House Marr | Phaelissia
Location: In transit- Bpfassh Council Meeting

As the shuttle made its way through space, the only sound was the hum of the engine. Rovic sat in the passenger compartment, across from the hooded figure dispatched to escort him. In the silence, Rovic couldn't help but let his thoughts drift to how drastically things had changed. Merely 10 years ago, he was a beggar eating scraps out of the garbage. Today, he was on his way to a diplomatic meeting after having caught the attention of The Sith. If anything, just this set of facts alone added to his belief that he was destined for greatness. Deciding to break the now almost uncomfortable silence, Rovic turned to the hooded figure sat across from him.

"You were vague before when explaining the situation to me. Now that you have me on your ship, clearly, I am not resisting, perhaps you will be more forthcoming with information?" He asked with a hint of snark in his voice.

The figure looked back at him, the dim lighting in the cabin already making it hard to see anything, let alone the face of the figure. All that showed through were the glowing yellow eyes behind the hood. The figure spoke in a low, raspy voice, "Your presence was requested by Darth Malum. You will comply. I have told you all you need to know."

Rovic rolled his eyes. "I'm not exactly in the business of complying. If I did that, I would've died with the rest of my family years ago." He paused for a moment, letting his words linger in the air before continuing, "So that's all I get to know? There's a diplomatic meeting and this high and mighty Darth Melasma..."

"Malum." The figure interjected, pointedly.

"...Yeah, him. He's requested my presence. So here I am."

The figure sat silently, letting the hum of the engine again fill the void of noise among them. It was several long minutes before the figure spoke again to say, "We will arrive soon."

And sure enough, it was not much beyond when those words were uttered that the shuttle had landed. Rather unceremoniously, two guards walked over to Rovic and hoisted him from his seat, practically shoving him out of the shuttle. The guards escorted Rovic to the meeting room where it was clear things had already gotten underway. The guards, for their part, executed their role flawlessly. To anyone else in the room, it would have appeared that Rovic had made a notable entrance with an armed escort. But only he knew that their presence was not there to protect him, as much as it was to ensure his compliance. Once in the room, the guards made a point to back off, staying by the door as Rovic tentatively made his way over to where the others were standing.

"Seems like the party's already started, eh?" He chuckled.

 

[Darth Strosius]

​

Objective: Whistling Tunes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Robes
Tags: Taresa Kae / Lucina Centaris

Someone's head was going to roll this day. Perhaps multiple heads even, but at least one was certainly in dire need of removal.

The Siege of Kerest had proven fruitless thus far, for rather than with bombardment and artillery their walls had to be cracked with drills and tunnel boring machines. The seemingly unorthodox glacier walls would almost seem impenetrable from an outside perspective given the lack of progress. However that wasn't the whole truth. While yes the walls were strong and resilient, the drilling efforts themselves had become stifled and stalled by more than just ice.

Traitors, perhaps even a hole rebel cell given how the drills were failing in their task, had infiltrated and infested the siege effort to buy the people of Kerest as much time as they could. To try and dull the Sith assault of their world and force it back. As if they could. And yet if they were indeed capable of halting the siege this much then they were a threat that couldn't be allowed to persist. It was only natural then, that the Inquisition involved itself.

A shuttle pierced through the high clouds and whipping winds above the drill sites, coming to land at one of the busier areas of activity. The shuttles ramp opened with a hiss and before it even touched the ground the Lord Inquisitor was marching down it. The heavy ornate robes of the masked man were, for once, not out of place amidst the icy winds of the world that he set foot onto, a squad of troopers filing out behind him as he looked over the drill site and the little crowd of personnel that adorned it.

"Fan out and search for any signs of rebel activity. I shall locate the foreman and see of our search can be narrowed." The troopers strode forward and split off into their own personal little search parties, each going off on their own in order to find clues or suspicious individuals. Darth Strosius himself began the march towards towards the drill, his robes trailing slightly in the wind as his gaze flickered between faces and uniforms in order to spot someone of note that he could speak with.

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Drazen watched the table, picking at some minute imperfection only he could see. He sucked on his teeth as it refused to come up, slowly bringing his gaze back to Rulonom Laborr and leaning back.​

​

"A War Economy is built on expansion. An economist such as yourself should understand that debt doesn't matter so long as our collective output outpaces our debt to production ratio. In fact, by all metrics, we are currently expanding at nearly double the rate of our principles growth - meaning the commonwealth surrendering to our rule will only embolden us further, and as far as the Empire of the Lost...", he scoffed.​

​

"Check the news, Chairmen. They're the warning I'm trying to save this council from. Tion burns. Three moons and a water world turned to ash for nothing more than standing against us - and now the Outer Rim once more fears us more than they rely on the Empire or the Mandalorians. Our tithes have already begun to grow larger than they had been before.", he said as he leaned forward, looking at the others around the table as he steepled his hands.​

​

"Now, you can rely on us - the growing power in the Galaxy, the safest option in the coming wars, or you could rely on the Trade Federation. How do our numbers compare again?", he said as he counted off his fingers.​

​

"Failed recovery of assets in the Ashlan Crusade, the New Imperial Order, and the slow abandonment of their economic influence in the Core.", he said as three fingers rose in turn.​

​

"Their largest industrial company has already gone under, and with it their various contracts with the Alliance. Republic Engineering is a husk, and 'Huttaburger' won't pay the bills.", he mused as he continued to count on his fingers, then letting them fall.​

​

"If there is anyone at this table that needs the support for a bad economic base, I don't think it's us Chairmen.", he said with that same wicked expression. His singular eye looked to man next to him. He spoke with a sudden invigoration;​

​

"Now, I'm no expert, but who does it sound like needs you more? Him, or me?", he said, motioning between the two. The man next to Drazen sweat for a moment, then failed to answer as he looked back towards the table. Drazen scoffed at the cowardice.​

​

"Listen - this is your chance to consider the better option for your peoples. I only see one head of state here, so I doubt any of you will be the final word on such things - but I'll state it clearly. Those who will consider our offer will be allowed to leave - the rest of you will be killed here, and your head will be sent back with our demands nailed to your forehead."​

​

"Now doesn't it seem more reasonable to deal with us here and now?", he said with a grin.​

​

A man on the far end of the table quickly spoke up;​

​

"And what do you propose then?"​

​

"Good man!", Drazen blurted out as he pointed to him.​

​

"Anyone?", he said as he glanced to Darth Malum of House Marr , Gerwald Lechner , Rovic Saphron , and Phaelissia .​

 

[Taresa Kae]

Objective II: Whistling Tunes

Kerest
Siege Camp
Location: Camp's Data and Communications.
Tag: Lucina Centaris | Darth Strosius
Gear:

Spoiler

Armor: Standard Sith Order Robes | Under: Standard Sith Order Armor | Voice Recorder | Holoprojector
Wrist: A-MWD1
Belt: Stealth Field Generator
Waist: Dauntless Combat Blades x2 | Lightsaber | Smoke Grenades x 4 | Ion Grenades x 2 | a-pm1 Medkit
Hips: Pistol Verpine shatterguns x2 | Holdout Hand Cannon
Back kit: Voice Recorder+Player x 10 | Small Holoprojector x 10 | Rock Worrt Venom
Ankles: Shikkar x 2

Taresa meticulously went through each drill, checking for issues. She found nothing, and though anger simmered within her, she restrained it, letting it eat away at her. She dutifully attended to her tasks until she reached a freshly prepared drill.

Something felt off.

The power supply was fine; the drill checked out mechanically, it registering no tampering. Scratching her forearm unconsciously in a very rare lapse, Taresa puzzled over why this one felt wrong. The mannerisms of her cover identity reasserted themselves, she adjusted her posture precisely, embodying her disguise like a second skin. Her mimicry had become an unnerving art, the dead she impersonated, often killed by her hand, lived through her once more.

Then, it struck her.

Nothing was wrong with the drill, power supply, or operation. She hadn't detected any rogue signals or intercepted transmissions on approach. It mystified her. Last week's software update could be routine, but what if it wasn't a rogue signal? What if the signal was intended and expected, something embedded in the signal or command? She didn't know, but she had a direction to pursue.

Heading to the data center, where all camp communications and signal traffic to the drills were handled, she entered a busy room full of blinking lights, terminals, and loose wires. One of the few warm spots on the planet housed an Arkanian technician who glanced at her casually—a telltale sign she sought out, catching her attention. The Kae Killer walked to a terminal and acted like she belonged.

The cold air and tension were thick and evident. Neither woman looked up at the other, aware they were likely moments away from a lethal and decisive moment of violence.

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Bpfassh
Objective: I - War Without Tears
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Drazen Lutris Darth Malum of House Marr Gerwald Lechner Rovic Saphron Rulonom Laborr

CI-6660—or Phaelissia, as she had more recently come to be known—sat with her legs crossed in such a fashion that one shapely thigh was situated over the other as she listened to the ongoing proceedings. As it was, the negotiations had turned non-violent, giving the short-statured Cipher Agent the vague impression that she was out of place. And yet, the Aetharian found herself moderately engrossed by the diplomatic dialogue, more than she might have otherwise anticipated. In that respect, Phaelissia pulled down her mask, revealing pale, delicate features borne with an expression of curiosity and focus.

“I might venture to add that any proposal must begin and end with the appropriation and control of vital resources.” Phaelissia piped up as she casually took off one of her gloves, revealing nails painted in the same pastel cerulean hue that colored her eyes and lips. “For example,” She continued. “The esteemed representatives of Dorvalla will understand the importance of lommite to the Sith military. Thus, any exports of this key resource and others like it, must be strictly regulated.” The Cipher Agent.

“If any of the representatives gathered in this room are unwilling to consider this simple, yet vital term, then…” Phaelissia gave a cool, casual sigh and casted a brief glance towards the imposing figure of the Wolf.

“We might as well start taking heads now.”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade (2) - R/L
  • Utility
    
    • Neahtid Earpiece
  • Droid
    
    • ASBF-X86p "Njósnari" Probe Droid
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

A representative of the Trade Federation of Planets was here, and not just a representative, but here he sat, the veritable Viceroy of the Trade Federation of Planet, Rulonom Laborr . His personal presence here, revealed far more than he possibly liked, but it was always the way of the Sith to exploit each and every advantage.

Certainly, the Viceroy was of all representatives opposite, the most intriguing, and seemingly, the most confident.

Little wonder, if it came to war and murder, he would not risk a single soul.

Only of profit, though considering it was the Trade Federation, that may have been the more costly loss.

And it was not as if he did not have his own special relationship with the Trade Federation, many of their droids were actively working to rebuild Alvaria after all...

...It had been a rather profitable, if initially expensive agreement after all.

Drazen Lutris ' violent laughter broke Malum from his thoughts, and saved him from needing to reply. It had not been anything planned between the Sith delegation, and unfortunate as it was it seemed the opening salvo had not made the representatives fold, thus they were back to cycling through each other, each offering a strike, that would eventually wear them down.

Eventually, break the wall.

Even as Malum raised an eyebrow at being called a child.

A consequence of his precipitous rise through this empire, something which even the Emperor, Darth Empyrean , had once disparaged. Of his 'peers', he was seemingly always to be one of the youngest, with such a meteoric rise in rank and station.

Still, he far from appreciated such an insult, unfortunately, this was not the forum to say as such. They were here to divide and conquer, they could not simply turn on each other and highlight weakness.

His brow may have raised ever higher, if he had not been schooled so, but that was far from a repudiation of the surprise that he felt when the wolf's maw opened, and a booming voice stepped forth out of the Emperor's executioner. He had heard the man speak before, he had fought against the man before, but this fervour.

This intensity, over negotiations of all things.

He had not expected it, from him.

An executioner was not meant to speak, his silent presence was a foreboding doom of a fate all feared.

A wolf did not speak, too will, too inhuman, to bear its fangs and growl was the best that could be expected.

Gerwald Lechner seemed to surprise him... exceed his expectations and measure of the man, in small ways in every interaction, tangential or direct. Thus, as Lord Lechner gazed towards him, even as Malum felt the crumb of annoyance that he had stolen his own words, Malum offered a barely perceptible nod, eyes glimmering, despite an otherwise clear history of antipathy.

They were on the same side.

His eyes turned to Rovic Saphron 's entrance. He was late.

That much could not be helped.

His words though, left much to be desired. A shallow glare greeted him in their wake, as long with a silent promise that they would speak once this was over.

Drazen's continued tirade against the Trade Federation, all in an effort to make them an unattractive protector to the planetary governments was enough to steal back Malum's attention. As it seemed, many of the representatives were beginning to waver. The time to deliver a knockout blow coming sooner, and sooner.

Thankfully even as CI-6660, she ever remained as a representative of the Kainites, the very picture of sin, would not be the one to deliver it, even as her point was rather sound, and her threat as implicit as it was explicit.

"The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must," Malum drawled, drawing the eyes of those assembled against him, those that had assembled with him, and those that wavered at the periphery, to him, "The fate of Tion is the fate that awaits you all should you resist, while the fate of Dosuun is what is promised should you submit," It made his skin itch, made it crawl, to use that latest Kainite crime against the galaxy to convince these pitiable fools, but if any benefit was to come, then it had to be used, "All worlds that peacefully submit today shall be annexed into the Sith Empire, Sith governors shall be dispatched to maintain loyalty to the Emperor, and a small army of beauracrats will follow suit to examine and survey how your worlds shall serve the Empire... yet your peace will remain out of harms way, your governments shall not be torn asunder, and will rather be useful additions to the Sith governors, and as recognised loyalists to our cause, you will be treated as good loyal subjects are to be treated." It was rather new, he had taken part in numerous campaigns to expand the Sith Empire, most of them had been militaristic in nature, wherein by the end, there had not been much of a governing body left to negotiate with.

Dosuun had been different, for certain, but at Dosuun, there had not been a need for threats, as the Sith desired far more than simply what physically lay within the Commonwealth's borders.

A middle ground, unfamiliar, yet as the one that had been dispatched as diplomatic time and time again, he felt strangely at home in it.

"You cannot defeat us, even if you are to believe we to be a weak power, that will fall someday, you know it, you knew it the moment the Trade League fell, empires rise and fall, but we are on the rise, best to be on the winning side, or otherwise... well you will not live long enough to enjoy being on the losing side, I am afraid." There was a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, one that asked any of them to challenge him, "Try something unconventional, attempt to gain aid from outside powers," A dark, shallow chuckle filled the room, before with a snap, the danger was back, filling the air, eyes cold, as he gazed around to all the representatives, "We will ground your planets into dust, there will be no peace for your people, there will likely not be any people left. This galaxy is a dangerous place, where mercy is a hotly demanded commodity, well... take it when it is offered, for when it is gone, it is gone."

He took a step forward, preparing for one last booming proclamation.

But it did not come.

"And there will be nothing left." The voice was calm, the voice was quiet.

It was wistful.

Phaelissia

 

[Aspect of Passion]

There was a consuming silence in the aftermath of their collective retorts. Where there had been many if not all who stood against the Sith who had encroached on their congregation, now eyes turned to the floor and heads bowed in prostrate, passive, cowardice. They had been properly cowed into submission by the reminder that they could die this day for nothing, or live with the message they carried - that the Sith were not to be trifled with so easily.​

​

Without the Galactic Alliance to back these upstarts, their alliance was doomed to face destruction, or so many had begun to believe. Guards behind a few of the ambassadors and generals moved with papers in hand, quills in the other. They were laid out before each, proclaiming in various terms the promise to bring these words to their people - to consider saving them from the bloody conflict the Sith wrought, at the consequence of their subjugation.​

​

Many picked up the quills and wrote - signed by alchemy in their own blood, whether they knew it or not. Some winced at the pain of having it extracted through their fingers, their very life essence enforced by the Sepulchral and the Emperor via magic they could hardly understand. A few, like Drazen, couldn't help but grin at the circumstances of the event. Even still, there was a moment of hesitation in many gathered.​

​

"I won't do it.", a large man said, scars on his face yet hidden by a graying beard. He was balding, his scalp carrying a few liver spots marking his age - but his form betrayed whatever one might think of his venerable status. He was more hutt than man, standing well into the seven foot range. With shoulders squared, he slowly stood up frowned towards the Sith who had come to visit them.​

​

"You've set me against my own people, against my own beliefs. I fought the Sith alongside Tavlar and Fel, rejoiced when Chandra announced your death. You don't get to come to my home and threaten my people.", he said with a clenched jaw. His stance had encouraged some who had yet to sign, and some who did, to build courage.​

​

A Sith trooper, nearest the behemoth of a man, walked behind him and pressed the barrel of his blaster into the man's kidney. His tone came out vocabulated and digital, inhuman in its demand;​

​

"Sit down and sign, or die a proud death."​

​

Yet it was not to be.​

​

The great man twisted sideways, letting the surprise of the blaster shot tear through his tunic and into a far wall. He ripped the weapon from the man's hand and crushed his plasteel face plate with an elbow - an impressive feat no matter who had done it. No doubt it had shattered the elder man's elbow in turn. He shot wildly at a few targets as he lowered himself, but it was his action that caused a surge of activity in the room.​

​

Many who still thought themselves fighters rose to do the same - using blasters they had kept on their person for this event. Some threw table ornaments, many used the chaos to rush from the gathering. It was those who had signed and began to fight back, who had knowingly betrayed the promise they already signed, that began to bleed - from their eyes, their noses, their mouths in turn. They fell purple, then fell in seconds, left to suffer for their betrayal against the magic they had consigned themselves to.​

​

The rest, in fear and desperation, and some no doubt in pride and valor, began to fight in the great hall that held their final moments. A Mausoleum to their last stand against the Sith - and the hopeful independence of their worlds from the Sith's onslaught.​

​

Drazen Lutris // Darth Malum of House Marr // Gerwald Lechner // Rovic Saphron // Phaelissia // Rulonom Laborr​

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Drazen felt the coming strike before it occurred. Despite one eye, he could practically see it play out - the stance of the man, the way he held his shoulders, the resignation in his eyes and jaw. He was a fighter, he was not the one to be cowed into signing away his world to conquerors, he'd rather see his people die for his morals. It was noble, perhaps even poetic in some sense, but it was misplaced and misguided.​

​

The only thing that mattered in this world was surviving and thriving. Dying to prove a point, to be remembered for something, were efforts in futility. This man would very likely carry forward a legacy from those who left here without signing - a good number by Drazen's quick estimation. It would prove a failure as time went on, how so many were allowed to leave. Those that did sign then turned to fight however, were a clear victim of their own hubris. Fools to think the Sith wouldn't force them to sign a contract in blood.​

​

Drazen used the force to drive his seat back from under him and lower himself below the table. Shots began to rang out, and a few were pointedly directly at the place he just was - no doubt to try and kill the cocky and loud Sith representative that he was. He grinned at that, even under the duress of open fire, then rose and ignited his lightsaber. In a quick and fluid motion, without moving a step, he batted away a flurry of bolts that struck for him.​

​

He created a red wall before him that made him unsiegable, a man immune to their attempts. That didn't mean others around him were. He didn't care to launch the bolts back at those who fired them, instead letting them fly away in a variety of directions. Some hit Sith troopers, some other dignitaries in the arms or legs. Some would think it was simply because he was not capable, perhaps unskilled, but that was a good thing for them to think. Let them believe he was weak, it would only cause them disaster should they test him.​

​

In the briefest moment between strikes, as he rested a hand at the small of his own back while the other wielded and unconscious and passive defense, he turned to one of the soldiers near him and bellowed a command;​

​

"Capture as many as you can. Do not kill them, I want to see what they see.", he mused. The soldier, unknowing to his trickery, nodded and began to call for ballistic and energy shields from the back - moving to form a line that split the room between the fighters, the escapers, and those who simply fell to the floor in a bid to live.​