Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Into the Belly of the Beast

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The fabric of reality twisted and tore open before him, lightning pinging off the dark walls of the three-hundred-meter wide hangar bay. Stretched out before the rip in time and space was an entire regiment of soldiers, each one dressed in stark white duraplast. They stood silent and unmoving, each one perfectly arrayed into symmetrical rows as if a machine had arranged them itself.

At the head of this host was a giant, his muscular body clad in lightless black armor engraved with ominous runes in an ancient language. Beside him were several other notable figures, all of them vicious and terrible in their own right.

"The way is open," spoke the giant, his voice carrying across the assembled mass with ease. "Before us lies the fortress of the rogue Sith who have shunned our truth, surrounding themselves with heretical falsehoods. And like all false prophets, they are betrayed by one who was of their own. The gateway behind me has linked to the belly of their coward's holdfast and through it we shall tear out their heart, staining our hands red."

As the connection grew stronger, the image of what lied on the other side of the shimmering partition became more focused and easier to discern. The giant raised one hand, lightning dancing across the tips of his fingers to strike at the center of the portal; a high-pitched boom echoing across the hangar bay as the Dark Side of the Force solidified the gateway.

"And now, my Dark Side warriors, advance into the belly of the beast to again bring peace to the galaxy."

And, in unison, the assembled host began to march.

[member="Darth Hashira"] | [member="Ahani Najwa"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
“My will be done.” As it is in the spheres of the cosmo, and the edges of my fingertips. The Force down in the hangar bay requires a gateway in, and in the absolutes of my mind, it is done. Crackling energies meet them, the forces of my unconscionable King.

Blood soaks away all ills, as many sorcerers said. The blood today was yet to spill, yet there was enough of it.

Always enough of it for what I need.

I splay in the meditation sphere, body given to the whorls of the Force around me in this concentrated space. The voice of Darth Carnifex is neither Master nor Servant to me. Naught but the tether to my lucidity, a man I would know better. He gives me what I need.

Blood. It pulses in my veins, as the nebulous gasses pulse outside the Behemoth, my beating skeleton of metal and bone. I supped upon the energy lost in an Event Horizon the last time Kaine Zambrano saw me perform this unholy act. Space is naught but the collected bubbles of water in the palm of my hand.

The meditation sphere amplifies, as the energies I feed upon amplify. Sacrifices, to keep his Silver Key satisfied. Space in front of the ship crackles and tears. Kaine asked for passage to the Southern Reaches, and I give it.

A wormhole opens. The Emperor has his Gate and I shall keep it open.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
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Before all else, the Sith Assassins served the future of the Sith.

Sometimes, that meant she had to tear down those who sought to claim the same mantle, but who did not wish to fall in line. Their tenacity was admirable, but their lack of foresight would be their downfall. They who stand adamant, always against the universe and the greater powers, they so rarely tasted the fruit of victory. Lo, even Darth Bane, who purged his own order, used the power of the organised Brotherhood of Darkness and Lord Kaan to wipe out the Army of Light and set the Grand Plan in motion.

His plan was almost perfect.

Only time would tell if the current iteration of the Sith Empire would be the one and true Empire to subjugate the galaxy and bring it rightfully to heel under the iron hand of the Sith. If not, she would see it's end and help the next iteration grow, darker and more powerful than ever before.

These rogues however, they were but a distraction; a bump in the night; a contrarian's delusion of grandeur. The shadow of a dream millennia past, dead and buried, and on whose grave new civilisations and bastions of the dark side grew.

Darling, Darth Ophidia's piloting droid and towering personal assistant, disrupted her train of thought with the distinct sound of hot liquid cascading into a small, metal cup. She unfixed her gaze from the spectacle ahead and curled slender, ashen fingers around the cup as the droid retreated his service. The warm container was brought to her purple lips as she looked once more to the ripping of space and time, sweet tea now trickling from the cup, over her lip and into her mouth.

The droid seemed awfully pleased with himself as the Sith Lord enjoyed her little cup of hot beverage, brewed exclusively by her droid and within her line of sight. She was becoming cautious in her old age, especially with so many poisoners under her thumb.

Alas, one day they would fell her and take her place. They were ripening, readying, lurking closer and closer.

Yet, this was not their day.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Ahani Najwa"] [member="Khonsu Amon"]
 
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With one, smooth motion, the diamond grit of the whetstone traversed the length of the sharpened blade; scraping away the impurities, leaving nothing but polished steel in it’s grinding wake. It was a monotonous process that was repeated several times over until the dulled edge of the combat knife became sharp; able to pierce through the densest of metals without losing its edge in the attempt. Such was the simplistic beauty of ultrasonic vibration generators - as they allowed blades to cut through dense materials like duracrete as if they were made of warm, and congealed animal fat. Yet, despite the technological marvels bound within the metallic surface of the combat blade, it’s edge would always find itself dulled after extensive wear and tear. It was a vicious cycle that the Sun Guard was more than grateful to subject himself too, as while others would perceive the task as tedious - Khonsu found that it kept his mind focused and sharp.

Every motion of the whetstone moving up and down the blade narrowed the world around him to a point; where all that mattered was the moment and those that followed after. In a way, especially when employed off the battlefield, such a mindset helped clear one’s mind from all the useless clutter. Several of his fellow mercenaries were nearby; discussing the myriad of ways in which they would spend their newfound wealth, and seeking to draw their commander into the conversation. Yet, Khonsu continued on ignoring them -- simply running his hardened whetstone down the length of his blade. They tried again a handful of minutes later, which earned them an almost venomous glare through the Praetor’s retracted faceplate.

“You’d do better to focus on the mission at hand, rather than revelling in spoils unearned, Boy.

When his last word slithered through his tightly pressed lips, there was a moment of predatory glee as Khonsu saw that his subordinate was taken aback by his commander’s response. It was the truth, however, as it was a foolish endeavour to count one’s chickens before they hatched. Who was to say if that nameless lesser was to survive this expedition? Who was to say that they’d earn their keep in the line of duty? There were thousandfold paths that lay before them, and it was almost an impossibility to chart them all. No one, not even the most skilled prognosticator could accurately predict the course that the future held.

Yet, in the end, it didn’t matter. The Sun Guard had become known for defying the odds, and fighting whatever terrible fates befell them.

Clearing his mind with yet another stroke of the granular whetstone, Khonsu carried on with the tedious undertaking -- until warning klaxons began to sound, signalling the commencement of their operation. Without hesitation, the Sun Guard sheathed his blade and causally bound the whetstone to his armour’s integrated bandolier. The sudden motion spurned his nearby Cohort to action; causing them to discard their idle conversation and adopt a readied stance. Their weapons found themselves clutched tightly within gilded fists, humming with rising lethality and silently hungering to be unleashed. When the passage through the aetheric portal was complete, the Myrmidons of the Golden Company would be ready to do what they were paid to do; and slaughter anything that stood in opposition to their aureate fury.

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ahani Najwa"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Darth Hashira"] |​
 

Fiolette Fortan

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F
En Route




Task Group 741
Captain Kit Galeway
[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"]
[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ahani Najwa"]

The hum of hyperspace it was by now a lullaby to the naval officer. Captain Galeway sat looking over the trenches where the various officers and crews worked. She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair back behind her ear, and turned to get another read over the objective. Rogue Sith. Last time she dealt with anything remotely known as rogue sith, it was back on Castameer. The memories of watching the Rae Sloane vanquish before her eyes flowed through the back of her mind. A steady reminder of why she now sat in uniform for the Sith Empire.

Whoever these rogue sith were, would be dealt with. One way or another they too would fall under the boot of the Empire. The former First Order naval officer commanded a Task Group, rather two - three lines of ships. The ships were mixed some made by the Sith Empire and others produced by [member="Taeli Raaf"]'s Aurora Industries and other's by Rear Admiral Raaf's Primo Victorian. Whispers that the Golden Sun Company were to make a showing here piqued her interest. They had certainly earned their reputation and she for one was eager to see what they brought to the naval arena.

Galeway shifted in her seat, and leaned forward casting a sidelong glance at her second in command Lieutenant Commander Nassan. Quietly she unfolded from the command chair and headed in his direction, "how long?"

"Not long now, we'll be reverting soon."

"Good." She acknowledged and turned to the viewport and steadily awaited the moment of revision to realspace.
 

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