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Dominion Imperials Strike Back | Dominion of Ninn | Warlords of the Sith

Zinn Zinn had eagerly kept up the attack. With the fighters right behind. The vigor and newfound resolve as rocked him to his very core. Pressing his attack on the command ship. Gaining on the throttle. “Yousa ain’t bad. Yousa ain’t nothing!” He said as his allies remained close behind. The attack on the shield generators kept remaining on his mind.

All the while if it wasn’t the turrets, it was the enemy fighters trying their damndest to pick them off one by one. “Oh boy... this a ain’t good!!!” He said the pure crackhead energy rushing through him. It was as if this dark energy was like fueling him. His resolve that when the attack came upon the enemy shield array. Blast fire rained down upon it.. The array taking a beating until with one eye lined up on it. “Yousa suffer big ouch time!” He said as with one blast of a proton bomb. The shield array was met with a fiery explosion.

“Wesa run!” He said directing the fighters that remained close behind him. Running from the enemy fighters that had been hell bent on wiping them out. Trying to shake them off through the narrow openings of the ship. The next target was the bridge itself.
 

Jacen Novastar

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"The undead, hmmm?"

He appeared from the shadows, draped within a darkness that seemed to emanate from within just as much as the shadows around him. He had not arrived with the quartet, but his obsevations of the area had been underway for quite some time. Under the orders of his Master Darth Setheus he had arrived upon the world to sow chaos and achieve glory on the Sith's behalf. Accompanied as always by those who followed him loyally into battle, the Acolyte had thus far shied away from the opportunities to take the heads of the Imperial Knights and their stormtrooper accompaniment.

He was content with letting the others throw themselves against the wolves. His allies would bring themselves closer to death, and through their sacrifice he would take their glory like the vulture he was.

There was no shame in rising upon the backs of the fallen-- enemies or friends alike.

He sauntered from the shadows once more, stepping forth towards the quartet, flanked on all sides by the hooded Acolytes around him.


"Sup."


Darth Luminoth | Darth Maleva | Heca Foliou Heca Foliou


 
A glare was shot discreetly at the Sith Lord when his hand crashed the head of one of her lifeless minions into the wall of the turbolift. Was the zombie anything to her? No, just a great expendable tool that was more efficient than an actual living person. But it costed some of her life energy to summon the dead to a state of half-life. Sith sorcery costed too dearly for anyone to chant its incantations, draining one’s life and corrupting their body. The latter was something she was too fond of, enjoying that vanity of herself.

Even the Dark Lord glared at her.

She would not forget that slight.

A wave of death followed when the turbolift opened to the floor they arrived on. An attempt that would all be in vain. What else did they have to lose other than their life?

The floor littered with corpses whether intact or not.

“What is there of interest? The deed is done, it seems. Nothing but death.”

Raising a dead Imperial Moff to his feet.

“A shame you couldn’t join my collection.”
 

Darth Maleva

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Maleva stood near the lift, watching as the massacre unfolded. There was a beauty in the gruesome sight, one that could be so easily overlooked. The sith lord's palms raised once more, adding her own madness to the storm. Scarlet tendrils left her fingertips, hurled at whatever soldier was unlucky enough to find themselves near. Bodies fell, the shift in the force pronounced as the chaos unfurled.

Her gaze flickered sideways as a shiver ran through her spine. A primal instinct warned her of approaching danger. A trooper had risen once more, his defiant will the only thing strengthening his injured body. Maleva let another bolt fly, smirking at the thud when he hit the ground one more.
 

Darth Luminoth

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RYNN'S HOLLOW
PUT MOFFS TO THE BLADE
Darth Maleva | Heca Foliou Heca Foliou | Ihsan Ihsan | Jacen Novastar

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The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him.

「COUNTING BODIES LIKE SHEEP」

Luminioth raised a finger, stabbing down the end of the long corridor to indicate a blast door. "We've found them," he declared with a primitive, excitable intonation. He moved, cutting down one of Heca's undead that stood vacuously in his path. The Imperial Knight saber he'd acquired above was discarded haphazardly as he moved, shouldering past Jacen with a tunnel-visioned indifference.

Closing the distance down the long chamber, he flourished his blade with eagerness. It impaled into the center of the blast door, slowly heating the durasteel around it into a bright orange. Focusing he twisted and fidgeted with the blade, trying to expedite his breakthrough. A pang of danger assaulted his subconcious, forcing his arm up to stop a stray blaster bolt in mid-air.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent it back like a curveball, snuffing Stormtroopers with a two-for-one. "
Cover me, you vapid dolts!" he boomed with a deep, Rylothian timbre. More blaster fire came, shooting past him with near-misses. Vexation stewed with a brewing impatience.

 

Stilicho Drumarch

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"GET BACK!"

The frantic yelling of the Captain over the comms was almost drowned out by the dying roaring of the corvette that was plummeting towards them. A few of Apkari's brothers were stuck, paralyzed with fear, until he grabbed their arms and threw them down the dune and into cover. He launched himself down the dune as well as the ship made contact with the ground. The ship was little more than a ball of fire, so much so that Apkari couldn't tell if it was Sith or Imperial. The immense heat from the ship so near to them turned the sand to glass as it impacted the dunes. It's shock-wave expanded, sending a cloud of sand into the sky above them.

Apkari drew his blaster and began to climb back up the huge sand dune, digging his feet in desperately to mount the crest and assess the damage.


"Captain do you read me?"

"zst... tszt... frisrtz"

"Captain?!"

No reply followed the static, and he quickly saw why. The crashed corvette and formed a crater, in which was a burning hellscape of screams and twisted metal. The harsh sunlight glinted off the metal and the sand, nearly blinding the Sith trooper as he stared into the crater...



 
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Tags: Darth Maleva Darth Luminoth Heca Foliou Heca Foliou


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She hated Sith that violated the fabric of life and death. They were little more than degenerates who practised an impure art. Ihsan's path was the way of the warrior. Heca was nothing more than a peddler of death and cheap tricks. But she understood that sometimes it paid to have such individuals on your side, especially against those who wronged you. Besides, in the Caldera, nothing was permanent, let alone alliances. She prayed Luminoth would have sense and rid his clan of the witch.


One could hope so. If Ihsan had her way, that'd of been the scenario many moons ago. But no, Heca still yet lived. No doubt she'd pull one of her cheap witch tricks and raise the dead in the room, despite their mangled and cut up corpses resulting from the massacre prior. At least she'd be given the innate pleasure of cutting them down again. That as much Ihsan would relish once more.


Luminoth moved towards the door that led into the corridor where the now-deceased delegates had tried to get to but failed. Ihsan could sense the rest of the delegation cowering behind the blast door at the end. A sly smirk forming across her lips as she realised.


There was more.
 
The perfect moment presented itself to her with a Luminoth occupied in cutting through the blast door with lingering Stormtroopers being a pest in their defiance against certain defeat. She could easily have a wave of zombies attack him, kill him and turn him into one of her many more disposable pets to her pleasure. Such was the way of the Sith, no?

Survival of the fittest.

Discarding such traditions only made their ilk weak...much like the declining state of the Sith Empire and the Zambrano Clan.

Instead of accomplishing those ambitions, she ordered her deceased to form a wall around the Sith Lord. Almost like a stonewall with how impervious they were to attacks unless struck at their head.

“Hurry then! I can only do so much.”
 

Darth Maleva

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The smell of death made Maleva grimace. Necromancy was a means to an end, but not a pleasant means. The anzat's slender form weaved through the carcasses, following the party. Her hands stayed at the ready, the ruby energy encompassing them. Her head turned to the remaining troopers. Practiced motions followed a deep inhale. She seized the emotion in the opposition, twisting it to her will. One fell, and then another, their defiance stoking the fire that raged inside her.

Anticipation boiled over as she turned to face the threshold once more. Maleva could feel the apprehension from those on the other side. Her leg began to bounce with impatience.
 

Jacen Novastar

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They appeared once more from nothing, or so it seemed.

Despite the burning wreckage being amplified by the heat of the world itself, their presence mateiralized out of thin air, to the untrained eye. Jacen blinked as his followers spread out at his command. A telepathic message added to the aesthetic, despite the obvious usage of commbeads tucked within their ears.

He floated across the dunes as they went to work plucking the injured and lost from the chaoas of the wreckage. Most of those affected by the crash had aerished it seemed.


"A shame."

He mused out loud, standing off to the side of Apkari by now.

"Such is the way of the Sith-- or such is the way for those who serve us."

A hand patted against the red armor of the trooper. Bodies of the wounded had been drug out by then, sprawled against one of the dunes in a somewhat neat row.

"But with death comes glory. And look on the brightside--"

He smirked, thumbing a finger towards the Captain's fallen corpse.

"Seems as if you may have earned a promotion. Maybe. I dunno~ Either way, our job here is done."

An unmarked transport descended onto the dunes, accompanied by another that had clearly arrived to provide aid to the stranded and fallen. Jacen and his team entered their transport without looking back.

There was work to be done elsewhere.
 

Darth Luminoth

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RYNN'S HOLLOW
PUT MOFFS TO THE BLADE
Darth Maleva | Heca Foliou Heca Foliou | Ihsan Ihsan | Jacen Novastar

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The first method for estimating the intelligence of a ruler is to look at the men he has around him.
「JERICHO」

The blast door had all but melted. Dull gray was now a brilliant fiery orange like a young star. With a firm yank, he freed his blade from the door, molten metal dripping from the tip and spattering in a swath behind him. He commanded the force, a half-fist coming up to seize the top of the blast door with a phantasmal will. As his arm pulled back, the door slowly peeled away top to bottom, completely torn from the hydraulic slider that served the usual opening mechanism.

Luminoth surged forward, diving through desperate blaster fire and hacking away at trooper, officer, and moff alike. Panic ensued, screams rose, Luminoth emanated a hollow, reverberating laughter that was decidedly inhuman. Heads rolled against the floor, limbs fell, the chaos was blinding. The party of Dar Lords heralded death, the dark side an extension of their will.

Singling out one Moff in the carnage, he appeared suddenly in front of them in a sudden flash of black and golden light. "
Moff Dryden," he addressed in a relaxed voice with an unplaceable accent. "You just won the lottery," he congratulated condescendingly. He put a hand over his forehead, and with a force of will, the Moff lost consciousness as Luminoth slung him over his shoulder.

Dryden was granted not survival, but a prolonging of life. In exchange for information, he could buy hours, or perhaps days, but his fate was to be worse than those who fell around him.

 


"Cover me, you vapid dolts!"- Darth Luminoth

And cover she did. Rushing the room the moment the blast door pried open large enough for the lithe Mirialan to slip through. Deflecting panicked blaster shots from the lightly armed security guards with ease, parrying one-shot that bounced back and hit a security guard square in the chest and onto the table, sending it crashing over and knocking two other delegates with it.

Once upon a time, she didn't relish killing unarmed people. It wasn't honourable; it wasn't right. Saka would've never done such a crime, but Saka was dead and gone. Spiritually killed by Ihsan and confined to the deepest reaches of her psyche. Such musings quickly went by the wayside, however. As the massacre wore on, she settled into the familiar motions. Casually cutting them down with no respite.

Almost took the fun out of it.
 
The deed was done, and it was painted in blood and death. A sight that she smirked at as there was much to prospect from here and the rest of the carnage that ensured from their hand. Flesh whether intact or not was something to profit from.

But the deed was not done.

Not yet.

Not yet for her. She wouldn’t forget the many times Luminoth slighted her, and she would spite back at him.

One of her zombies cams close to Luminoth and the Moff on his shoulders, coming behind them and then the dead creature took a bite at the Imperial’s dangling legs. Infected and tainted. No use to the Dark Sun.
 

Stilicho Drumarch

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TAGS: Jacen Novastar
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He knew the acolyte was correct. As they stood upon the dune staring into the blaze, he closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer for his brothers. None of the Red Sons had died in vain today, for they had broken the Imperials. Everyone had a role to play. If their role was the martyr, the sacrifice, or even the cannon fodder, so be it. The Sith were larger than any one person, certainly more than any one clone trooper.

"Perhaps. Let's regroup with the rest of the host. The crusade will not sleep yet." Together they turned and made their way to the shuttle. The battle of Ninn was not over yet. Something worse than the New Imperial Order lay on the burning horizon...
 
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Aboard the NIV Marasiah Fel Defiance-Class Battlecruiser
Kuric Taumin
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And with that response, she took it personally. After pulling her blade out of the body, she aimed it at Kurics neck. She had plenty of reach, but she merely touched his neck. It burned like a lightsaber, although it was only metal which was force-imbued. She took steps forward while keeping the appropriate distance with Kuric as she whispered, "Nwûl tash." She started, speaking very slowly, "Dzwol shâsotkun. Shâsotjontû châtsatul nu tyûk. Tyûkjontû châtsatul nu midwan. Midwanjontû châtsatul nu asha. Ashajontû kotswinot itsu nuyak. Wonoksh Qyâsik nun." Reciting the entire Sith Code in low Sith dialect. She gave an expression as if she gagged, speaking those words. "You will never compare me to a Jedi ever again, you are lucky they are my enemy. You do, and only one of us will end up walking away, I don't care what Vinaze says. I know the Sith Code, but it is vile to me, as your kind subjugated mine and forced us to fight a war we were never part of! Your kind caused us to be slaughtered, and those that remained forced into exile!" Her blade grew in intensity, the light glowing bright as it showed her emotions growing. "I will tell you the same thing I said to Lord Vinaze; I am small, Knight Kuric, but you would do well to understand that my size is my only weakness. Knowledge is something I possess very well." She pulled her blade away, holding it to her side, "I tolerate even the lowest of missions assigned by Lord Vinaze because I respect him and owe him a personal debt I seek to repay. But I will not tolerate being treated as a child. I am your equal, if not better. The only one who can say is Lord Vinaze, because I don't care. Try my patience, I dare you."
 


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Objective: Slay all remaining opposition.

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Khamul grabbed a nearby imperial trooper, holding him mid-air. His body wasn't ideal for blocking the incoming blaster fire, but it sufficed. After gaining enough ground, Khamul launched the now dead trooper through the air, causing the corpse to land into another trooper with a resounding thud. Those remaining nearby were suddenly taken aback by a ferocious charge from the Sith lord. With great speed, he rushed into their lines, cutting down all in his path. The Jedi preach inner peace and calm reflection, but the only time Khamul truly felt at peace was in battle. Violence was his meditation, and blood his holy sacrament.

His lightsaber slashed through the blaster rifle of another poor soul, and straight into their chest. His desire for victory was unending; his thirst for violence, unquenchable. He was meant to bring planets to their knees, and would stop at nothing to see this through. Through the surrounding chaos, he pushed through, creating a large gap in the lines of the enemy.

It wasn't long before he found himself surrounded by the enemy. As they closed in on him, he chuckled. He called out to the Force, raising his lightsaber in the air in defiance of all who would reject his thirst for more.

"Fools! You dare deny the will of the Sith? Your pain shall be our rallying cry!"

Extinguishing the blade of his lighsaber, Khamul pulled his hands to his chest, reaching deep into the black abyss of the Dark Side. As the enemy fired upon him from all sides, he quickly rose his hands to his sides, releasing a devastating push in all directions. Those who weren't killed by deflected blaster bolts were slammed into the surrounding terrain in a mass of broken bones and battered bodies. Khamul's laughter grew as his enemies cried out in pain around him.

Today, no one would stand in his way...
 
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"Understood my lady, great minds think alike I suppose." He said clearly having the same idea as her on what to do. He would increase the speed of his remarkably agile ship. Blurring past volleys of deadly green turbo-lasers to capital ships behind him. Even one that he passes could obliterate his ship and himself instantly. Being from a different time these new fangled tech in the ships was hard to fully understand and it was very likely that he wasn't operating the ship at a proper level. Maybe if he got his hands on an old-school Z-95 Headhunter it would be a different story. So the hornet's nest of lasers was a serious threat to him. So it was good that Darth Sinestruss Darth Sinestruss wanted him in a boarding action.

Yet Romund worked hard to avoid enemy fire and get in close to the enemy hanger space. Flying around in flashy flying and performing strafe runs on point defense cannons to help a nearby boarding shuttle. It was likely that those inside the opposition capital were going to try and close the blast doors to prevent the incoming attack on the ships interior.

Romund called out to any nearby shuttles to make their entrance now or never. As he did the blast doors to the hanger began to close rapidly and he watched as one boarding shuttle flew in just in time before he piloted his own ship in just at the last second. One shuttle, that was going to be difficult to take a ship. He was gonna need to really carry the team. Quickly landing his ship inside he was finding that hanger personnel were already rushing to deal with the threats. Finding no time to properly leave the vessel he ejected his his seat from within the ship. Flipping out of his starfighter and upholstering his imperial knight lightsaber that he recently corrupted the synthetic crystals of to turn the red. Landing on his feet he ignited the crimson blades.

Showtime...
 

Darth Luminoth

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RYNN'S HOLLOW
PUT MOFFS TO THE BLADE

Darth Maleva | Heca Foliou Heca Foliou | Ihsan Ihsan
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The sound of flesh tearing beneath clenched teeth slithered into his ear. He turned just in time to witness a dead-eyed thrall feasting on the Moff's limb. An inferno of rage welled up within him, one immediately tangible to every force-sensitive in the room. Luminoth clamored with rage and subjected the undead to a barrage of thrusts as he dropped the Moff to the side.

Once the minion had been sufficiently reduced to a useless flesh heap, Luminoth turned his attention toward Heca. Feet carried him forward in a beeline toward her, golden lightsaber pointed forward. "
Foliou!" he roared with an unnatural, aimless echo. The tip of the saber found its way under her chin, pointing with malicious intent toward the juggular.

Discordant harmony of contrasting voices all speaking against one another emanated from behind his mask. Ten, twenty, thirty, one hundred, possibly more even more all trying to talk over one another in a dizzying, indecipherable melody of strife. Luminoth suddenly looked down, chin tucking down toward his chest as the lightsaber remained haphazardly pointed toward Heca.

"
SILENCE!- SHUT UP!" Luminoth's own voice shouted wildly over the rabble. The menagerie of voices began to die down slowly at his aggrieved command. His head shot back up toward Heca, mask forcing a look of apathy. "Learn to control your pets, or I'll see to it you join them as kin." The irony of demanding control after his own display didn't go over his head, but he was the one on the right end of the saber.

 

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