I've Gotta Take A Byss [One Sith]

[Hans Vaiden]

I've Gotta Take A Byss​

Low Orbit, Byss​

[member="Tmoxin Temi"], [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"], [member="Silva Talith"]​

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There was always time for action. Didn't matter if you were an enemy or not, there was never room for stagnation, error, or simple-mindedness among this glorious Empire. When one leader failed, there was always another in line to assume his command and the chain went on until there were none left - but that was never the case. In this particular situation, giving power to those who merely let it spoil in their grasp was never the correct thing to do, so Captain Hans Vaiden intended on correcting that fatal flaw.

"Commander Temi," His deep, gruff voiced resounded across the hangar. "You know what your job is. Take the 182nd and seize the capital, do not be afraid to use lethal force if necessary. Spread orders throughout the ranks that Captain Vaiden is now in command." The officer played with the cuff of his uniform for a moment, "And if they do not comply, eradicate them."

The Imperial Captain simply stood there for a moment, inspecting his detachment commander in her stark white armor with a multitude of similarly garbed soldiers behind her. Fiery red hair was wrapped neatly in a bun and her eyes sparkled with something akin to nervousness and anxiousness, probably due to this being her first major operation acting as an officer over an entire legion rather than a company.

"You'll be fine. Just follow orders, and don't forget to report directly to me once your objective is complete."

And with that, he was moving away from the commander and strolling towards [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]. The black-suited man was just off in the distant corner of the hangar, preferring to be the reclusive man that he was rather than associate with the common soldier. Air pressure occasionally fizzed out of his mask, but otherwise, the man was dead silent.

"You're with me. We've got a few unkind words to say to the rulers. Feign stupidity or something, you're my mock-bodyguard for this mission. If everything goes haywire, we'll bail with Temi and the 182nd.

"Ready?"

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

It wasn't nerves that had made Tmoxin appear so pale and wan in the rigid white armor. Since they had arrived in Beshqek system, the dark side energy on Byss had been draining her so much she nearly fell ill, but she hadn't said a word to Captain Vaiden. Proud to a fault, she hated for him to see any sign of weakness in her. She also knew deep down inside that her own Force sensitivity was to blame. The one thing she loathed, feared and had fought against her whole life since she was first indoctrinated into the Ni'Korish cult on Hapes, and even now with her intense fear of Jedi and Force Users in general... this one thing, the Force - she was actually blessed with. She would have laughed at the irony, had she not felt so nauseous. The Force ran in the Temi progenitors but she knew not which parent had carried its power down the line. Her brother had began to cultivate the Force but Tmoxin for the most part pushed it into a tiny coffin inside her until times like when she couldn't ignore it. The darkside power seeped from Byss, out of its both its earthen mantle and in the oxygen particles they breathed. All of it left over from Emperor Palpatine's reign.

Captain Vaiden's firm orders broke her out of her reverie and it was a welcome distraction. She had gotten used to taking orders from a man which was very un-Hapan of her but she was a galaxy away from her homeworld and the normal rules didn't apply in times of war. Besides his good looks and cunning tongue made the act of compliance much, much easier. He also insisted on her wearing armor rather than her Imperial uniform which she fought firmly against but she eventually gave in. He was persuasive, Tmoxin would give him that. But it all made perfect sense. Commander Temi would be in a direct combat situation versus more tactical duties on the sidelines which was what she had done during the Ashera siege. The operation was extremely high stakes as they were essentially carrying out a coup on their own Imperial government, one which would put Hans Vaiden at the helm of power.

"Yes, Captain," she said and placed the white helmet atop her head. She watched him one last time as he drifted towards Sylvanan Tal'verda. Giving her commanding officer a sharp Imperial salute, she turned away and flanked by Sgt. Major Ulysses marched with soldiers at their backs to the bay where the dropships awaited to take thousands of stormtroopers planet-side to face a hopefully unsuspecting opposition.

[member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

One of said flanking soldiers following [member="Tmoxin Temi"] and Sgt. Major Ulysses was Cyrene Miles, who being entirely non force-sensitive was happily oblivious to the dark mental reek of Byss. Had anyone mentioned it to her they likely would have gotten a look and a drawl of 'I ain't got time, for no dead folks spook, I got a job t'do.'.

She was there with thousands of her brothers and sisters in arms to ensure the great and just Imperial reign continued. Well. Sith. Technically. She didn't have much to with the saber-swingers however, and that was how she liked it. She was a ground pounder pure and simple, a sniper if you wanted to get technical. Still, this mission only reinforced her belief in the justness of the cause. Someone within the system was not living up to their obligations and responsibilities, and rather than tolerating this in a corrupt of non-effective manner, they were being removed and replaced by someone who would get the job done.

Made a person damned proud to be a cog in the great machine.

Cog with a big ol' rifle. Wonder if'n these folks'll have th'sense t'back off or if'n I'm lettin' the daylight in summun?

She idled thought, though her posture stayed ramrod stiff and correct as she marched in unison with the others into one of the waiting dropships.

[member="Hans Vaiden"]

 

[Cylus Jest]

The room lay in darkness, the shuffling and shifting sounds of the personnel inside as they gathered their equipment, put on their masks and donned the wings which would carry them through the skies like blades to butter. Cylus had implemented this type of getting ready as a hope of gradually training his men to find their equipment even if the power of the ship went down. Though it would probably be confusing to a large majority of the crew. Who cared what they thought, certainly not the Undying.

A flick of the lights and everything was showing again, in ranks stood the small platoon, most of them had their things on correctly though a couple obviously had to readjust their masks as soon as the lights had come on. He stepped through their ranks, inspecting them and their Phantom suits for any tears or misuse, that wouldn't do midair.

A young recruit had sprinted into the room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the Platoon, all adorned in the frightening visage of the plague masks. He stood there, a bit shocked to find these men standing where he had been told a platoon was. Cylus stepped forward, glaring into the fellow's eyes with all the frost of Hoth and delivered his voice outwards in much the same way.
"Yes?" He projected from the mask, his soul-less eyes still beaming into the young man's soul.
"W-we're ready t-to go, sir." the recruit mumbled out, Cylus gave a singular nod and the recruit took off as though he had a pack of wolves at his back

He stepped to the doorway, glancing back once more at his orderly platoon before he held his hand to the beak of his mask, two fingers up in a gesture of silence. The Undying reciprocated his movement in a sort of salute and then filed out of the room after him. As they headed towards the destination of the Hangar, Cylus spoke into his com unit gently
"Captain Vaiden, what shall our role in this mission be?
[member="Hans Vaiden"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Kyle stood in his First Order armor amongst others Stormtroopers who also had armor spanning eras of the Imperial and Sith legions, but all boiling down to one unified goal – serving as an iron fist to eradicate anyone standing in the way of progress.

In one of the many dropships, behind his imposing helmet, Kyle watched more come on board. His com was synched to others, and at present nothing came through, but he had his orders to follow suit on Byss and take the capital. It was his first operation after meeting with such figures as Commander Temi and her unit.

He wanted to speak, but there was no need to – he simply was another trooper here to do a job, and he watched everything and everyone carefully from behind the dark black visor of his helmet and did all he could do.

Wait.

[member="Hans Vaiden"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Cyrene Miles"] | [member="Cylus Jest"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

Another day, another motion toward Galactic Purity. Sylvanan was posted up in his corner, making the final minuet calculations to the system cracker he'd crafted for this venture. The Imperials would secure Byss, Hans would gain control of the planet, and Sylvanan would have everything he could possibly need from the Sith fortress world. That was the idea, anyway.

"Bodyguard? I'd say I've moved forward in my position then. Where are my donuts? I know all the important di'kuts receive complimentary pastries." Sylvanan quipped, looking up from the cracker. He grinned big and wide beneath his helmet, and for a moment, the obsidian tint of his visor faded to reveal his face.

Luminescent blue eyes squinted in good natured mirth at the Captain. His lips pressed into ridiculous smile, then faded into a thin line. His eyes narrowed. The Arkanian adopted a serious expression, a look that fit his position in the way of things.

"We won't fail. I've brought my own friends. After this, your going to help me build up Crynic a bit. We need the funds." He half-ordered half-suggested. Sylvanan turned toward the small shuttle he had arrived in, and whistled.

Four massive men in Katarn armor of the same shade as their leader's bio-suit marched out. Each was armed with a DC-17.

"The first of many. Strong, loyal men. Sergeant, how are you feeling?" The Arkanian asked.

One of the men stepped forward. "Peachy keen sir. Honored to be the first of our brothers to be here." He boomed.

"As am I." Sylvanan turned toward Hans. "Clones. I picked a new genome. Completely loyal to the cause. They will be treated like heroes, do you understand? They bleed for us."

A moment's pause.

"[member="Detritus"]! Move your shebs, you're serving on the Captain's guard detail."

 

[Darth Eversor]

From within the shuttle Detritus waited until he heard his name called out. The creation forged from the worst of the scientific mind, yet graceful and full of beautiful wonder. Such an example was far and few between the masses that claimed themselves to be truly superior in all regards. But could they possibly match against the perfect killer? One that did not have the pesky morality system most held close? Killing was simply an act like many other actions. So why hesitate?

Departing from the shuttle, Detritus revealed himself among the group of other clones clad in a blackened suit with technological components here and there. Blackened greaves fell firmly to the ground as the six-foot monstrosity reached for his pistol, a metallic claw squeezed the grip as if the hand itself itched to become one with the weapon - an itchy trigger finger, more or less.

Copious amounts of combat drugs coursed through the veins of Detritus as he moved onward, a dark lightsaber staff swinging freely from his hip as the monster went to his designated objective.

For those opposing the creature, they would find no mercy. Being human meant the lack of so many things, but in this monster they would find that the word perfection fits almost flawlessly. Death itself was present.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Hans Vaiden]

To be completely honest, Captain Vaiden had been astounded at the amount of support he'd managed to gain for this pursuit. It wasn't unheard of back in Palpatine's time for officers to take it upon themselves to just... take a planet, but Hans had luckily found an entire crew willing to follow him into hell and then claim it as their own. They were loyal to the end and he would see it that each and every one of his personnel was rewarded - be it monetarily or with other items of value. This mission was more than just a personal matter of importance. It was-

Oh right, the mission.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] was talking to him now, fiddling with some high-end piece of technology. The Captain didn't care to know what it was but it looked shiny enough to assume it meant some value. He listened intently as the former Mandalorian spoke, detailing his recent corporate pursuits and deviations in the genetics and cloning field. It was.. remarkable, to say the least. It was always a wonder at how some elite soldier managed to build a company from the ground-up and achieve such great feats.

"Yes, Mister Tal'Verda. Your corporation has lent its manpower, funding, and other assets on multiple occasions. I can assure you that your efforts will be repaid in full," he smiled, tapping a finger to his lip, "And maybe a few bonuses for you and your men. Once this is over, name a price and I'll do my best to fulfill your parameters."

He sounded a bit droid-like in his take on things, but he was in command mode. It was all strategic analysis and logical thinking from here on out. Hans didn't have room for error.

His wrist beeped and flashed, comlink chirping with notifications of an encrypted, Imperial signal. It was [member="Cylus Jest"] - another new addition to his crew that enjoyed dealing with matters of the unconventional genre. Hans didn't have much knowledge on the man's background save for his Imperial service records, but he was indeed an outstanding soldier. The Captain raised his wrist to his lips to reply.

"Ah yes, Jest. I know just the job for you." He sighed with delight, reflecting on the original mission set. "I have an understanding that you like to toy around with poisonous gases and the like. There's an enclave of Dark Jedi holed up on the surface, about an entire three kilometers away from the capital. If you would be so kind, I'd like them to be exterminated. Should you require assistance, I've got a twelve man team of Storm Commandos ready to assist."

And, that was it. "That'll be all. Carry on."

Three plans set into motion that would secure his own dominance upon the planet - if things went as he planned. Now it was time for his own portion of the task to start, with he and his own little guard of Sylvanan, [member="Detritus"], and their clone detachment to board a nearby Lambda-class Shuttle and depart. Hopefully [member="Tmoxin Temi"] and her 182nd would land shortly after they did. It was always a great shock-and-awe effect to see the white dove of a diplomat land, quickly followed by the Imperial war machine.

The mission was a-go.

[member="Kyle Amedis"], [member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cylus Jest]

Cylus listened intently to the voice which had he not known better would have thought was a little fellow in his head giving him orders. In reality it was just a comlink, but still the voice of Captain [member="Hans Vaiden"] still held a sort of formal authority which Cylus respected. He could only wonder what the others parts in this grand piece of military stratagem would be.

This was his first real mission, sure he had done other things such as a few duels here and there and he had been training consistently for a long while with both blade and wing. Still, this was the first mission, a very small twinge of anxiety grasped his hand for a moment, a singular tremor racking it before it went still and under his full control once more. Apparently, the nervousness he should have felt was gone rapidly.

He could only hope the same was true of his troops, the Undying as a platoon were still quite new however they had been trained to bring fear where they went and to eliminate from the skies in a form of combat not commonly seen. Still, even with all their training on eliminating fear from their lives, making them what Cylus saw as perfect soldiers, inevitably their still intact emotions would get in the way, but hopefully they could suppress it.

His mind snapped back into reality as the Captain finished up his orders. Apparently they were going to be fighting some form of Dark Jedi or Sith or something along those lines. It really didn't matter, but Cylus had no idea where the Captain had gotten ideas that he liked fighting with poisons. Didn't really matter, they would be fighting.

His personal bodyguard should be around here somewhere...but he'd require an actual dropship to land on the ground with the rest of them. Maybe [member="Echelon"] would turn up soon, if not...it would be a bit of a hinder.

Apparently the good Commander [member="Tmoxin Temi"] was also on this mission, he hadn't seen her in a while and it would be a good chance to catch up with her as well. He shook the thoughts from his mind and began to stroll towards the hangar and a specified dropship which would take the Undying platoon into the atmosphere of Byss.

"Time to make a good show." He spoke reassuringly to his platoon as they entered the dropship and sent a signal to the Captain that they were ready to begin.

@Detritus| [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] | [member="Kyle Amedis"]

 

[Sven Talith]

Byss of course had been for the past several hundred years been controlled by the Talith Family.

First conquered by Saul Talith, the enigmatic Darth Moridin that had ruled the Sith Empire as its first Emperor, then inherited by his surrogate daughter [member="Silva Talith"] and his genetic son Sven Talith. Byss had been in the hands of the Talith family for nigh on a thousand years, being held by the now dead Sith Lord and his children, intended as a fortress world for the Dark Lord whenever one was needed.

For the past several years, and since the One Sith had come to dominance within the core, Sven and Silva Talith had ruled Byss as a fortress world, a fallback position for the One Sith in case anything were to occur to Coruscant.

This had been a deal negotiated with Daella Apparine and Darth Shara, one that Sven had steadfastly held to and been assured of since his participation in the defense of Coruscant against the Omega Protectorate. This was secured by the Eye of the Dark Lord and the Dark Lord himself. Though Byss was never a true Titan of Industry, it was one of the primary benefactors of men and resources to the Sith Armed forces.

Of course anyone would have known this had they simply asked.

Yet when the warrant men and women of the Inquisition came knocking. When Byss was surrounded and apparently defenseless, the assailants would not find Silva and Sven Talith. They would not find the King and Queen of Byss, they would not find the riches of the planet nor any trace of the Dark Lord that had once lived there.

They would find nothing.

The King and Queen had absconded. Taken one of their ships and simply left the world behind. All of the decadence, all of the busts and statues, all of the glorious memorials to Darth Moridin simply wiped away.

If they looked, they would find an empty palace with an empty throne.

 

[Placeholder 018]

"I'm not one to be bought, Hans." The Arkanian reminded him. "But I appreciate it nonetheless. Crynic is a means to an end that we both share."

He followed after the Captain, standing at his right to show their equal footing. The four commandos followed in a semi-phalanx behind the duo. [member="Detritus"] would likely take his place wherever he wished; Sylvanan did not delagate the warrior in such pointless details.

The Arkanian settled down next to Hans in the Lambda. He'd flown in many shuttles of this caliber, and he never got used to the feeling of their sub-light engines. Their low whine always made him want to squirm.

"Are you going to try and talk, or are you going in guns blazing?" He asked quietly. "A show of force is best if you want to assert your dominance, Hans."




[member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Detritus"]

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

Tmoxin rode in the cockpit of the dropship with Sgt. Major Ulysses and a few other higher ranking officers who were already part of Captain Vaiden's legion. This particular ship would land somewhere directly outside the Imperial Control Sector. Finding a spot to land would prove difficult on the fortress world, not to mention deploying thousands of stormtroopers out into the streets of the Emperor's Ruling City as it was sometimes still called, despite its actual rulers who came and went.

As they broke through the atmosphere and came close enough for a visual sighting of the ground below them, the Commander would see that Byss had been built up over the years, like Coruscant but less glittering and cosmopolitan, with shipyards and industrial complexes galore. She spied Byss’s most famous landmark, the Imperial Citadel. So much taller and higher than all of the other buildings, signaling the era of a ruler who by necessity needed to be far away from the minions below. It was quite a glorious piece of architecture, she thought. She turned to the Sgt. Major and if he thought she would going to discuss military strategy he was sorely mistaken.

"When this is all over I’m going to buy a huge estate in The Emerald Splendor section of Byss,” she whispered to him.

"You seem to have recovered from whatever was ailing you, Commander,” Ulysses responded with sarcasm. Since she was discussing her material purchases, she must be feeling better, the Sgt. Major thought as she only did that when she was in a good mood.

“Why yes I am. Thank you for asking.” Inexplicably she was no longer feeling the “darkside flu” as began to refer to it in her head. The two of them were squeezed together in the cockpit so she gave his knee a quick rap and he let her by.

With her helmet off so the soldiers could see her, she went back to visit with the tacticians where they sat in rows waiting for landing. There was a nervous anticipation that crackled through the air. The ship lurched suddenly causing a couple of concerned gasps, but then went straight back to smooth sailing.

[member="Kyle Amedis"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] [member="Cylus Jest"] [member="Detritus"]

 

[Lucullus Lacar]

Lucullus tilted back on the flight stick as his dropship broke atmosphere, already lining up to run parallel to surface in preparation for landing. The pilot wore his DF9 flight suit for the sole purpose of keeping his shipboard computer system working properly, but the outfit was augmented with plastoid plating along the same vein as stormtroopers armour - he knew how key uniformity was in these legions.

Captain Lacar checked the screen which detailed the exact co-ordinate for landing - even though he could spot the location through the cockpit window. He too worried about dropping a legion of troopers whilst keeping some sort of surprise element, and ensuring logistics ran smoothly. The Hapan watched Commander Temi - another from his homeworld, quite rare to see so far from the cluster, or even outside the cluster at all - as she left his cockpit, but a pocket of turbulence buffeted the ship causing his attention to snap back sharply.

[member="Tmoxin Temi"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

Following behind his creator, Detritus took a seat within the Lambda with his pistol in his lap. An unfriendly sign in a very friendly presence, yet it wasn't personal. The creation had no earthly care or idea of how offensive it might be acting - nor did it necessarily care either. An objective was simply one thing that either resulted with a success or a failure, and the latter wasn't even a choice for Detritus.

He observed how his creator and the other stranger conversed. There was something strange about how normal humanoids acted - how they connected with one another off of mere eye contact alone. Words weren't the best thing up Detritus' sleeve, but it wasn't like he needed to talk to anyone anyhow. Unless it was another mission or something that needed killing.

Through the eyes of the killer, everyone was a potential target. All he needed was a motive to work off of, at least for now. Trying to push against the boundaries of his limits wasn't the brightest idea. Detritus knew that he could disobey and trash everything that he was taught prior to this mission and be on his own. But how far would he actually get?

The entity sat in silence since his vocal cords weren't yet ready for use. He squeezed the grip of his pistol and felt the Dark Side of the Force well up in every fiber of his being. The combat drugs were pumping through his veins at a fast rate - the creation needed to kill.

The first thoughts of murder began to surface.

[member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] [member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Cylus Jest"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Kyle Amedis"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

I like flyin', wonder if'n I can get signed up t'flight courses? Likely could, reckon it's cut inta m'time spent snipin' though. Figger I like snipin' even better'n I like flyin'.

Cyrene mused silently to herself. She'd probably start picking up other skills once she was a bit more firmly established, but for now in her snow white armour with none of the dings that showed good hard use, she figured it was best to stick to what she was good at. Besides, there was nothing quite as satisfying as knowing you'd lined up that perfect show, pulling the trigger, and watching your target fall before anyone had even figured out there was a threat.

Grim lot this group, hain't much banter. S'pose they know how serious th'job is, that or they got a case o' the jitters. Hope it ain't the jitters, I don't want none of them spookin' on me while they're meant t'be watchin' m'back.

Almost unconsciously she went through the motions of checking her sniper rifle once more time while in the air. With a beautiful piece of equipment like this, you took care of it, and it took care of you.

 

[Vrag]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNrS-GDAEAs​

When crap went down in the Galaxy, those powerful enough would know. Whether it was through the shady channels of information brokering or by the virtue of the Force, the puppeteers of the galactic stage were sure to realize what was going on. One such gray eminence was the Dark Lord himself, a mysterious entity shrouded in secrecy and rumor. Not many things were clear when it came to the Emperor, but one thing was for certain; he sure as hell wouldn't stand for some uppity Imperial Captain waltzing onto a fortress world and claiming it as his own. And Byss, of all planets!

The shadowy ruler wasn't known for cleaning up messes like this one himself, however; instead the man would simply send his representatives, the esteemed parts of the Dark Lord, and watch the situation… resolve itself from afar. Turn on the holofeed, put on a batch of popcorn, and kick back on that terentatek leather couch while his various titled appendages smacked the unruly elements over the head. He works in mysterious ways, after all.

Now back to our regularly scheduled program of re-educating the presumptuous officers of the Imperial army!

The Right Hand, an imposing Immortal-class ship, dropped from hyperspace along with a number Wyyrlok-class Star Destroyers and a few Dark Blades in tow. To really crank up that intimidation level up to eleven, the Hand of the Dark Lord had brought the fearsome Maladi frigates as well, and the array of ships fell into formation as the last of the fleet appeared in realspace around the beleaguered planet. She ruled over no sector and knew no home other than the next world that needed subjugation, always on the move as she did His will. It was only natural that she would arrive the first, for her forces were already mobilized and fully prepared for conflict due to the nature of her position. First in, last out, because [member="Reverance"] was too busy doing Force knows what. Probably developing some Vong horror from the depths of Netherworld; not that she minded, really, but it would be nice if he did the spanking for once. Oh, well; there would be… others here, and soon.

The armored woman would be found standing on the bridge, her posture straight and her hands crossed on her back as the red eyes of her skull surveyed the world below her. One of the jewels in the crown of the Sith, and someone had the gall, the audacity to think it would simply kneel once they came knocking with a few toys? Fat chance.

"Captain… hail the invaders," the Sith Lord would utter with an oddly level voice as she nodded towards the man. Once the audio link was established via the transceiver, the commander of the hostile vessel would be privy to the following message.

"This is the Hand of the Dark Lord speaking. Cease all aggressive action, identify yourself, and recall your people." Or else.

[member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Darth Hauntruss"] | [member="Shai"] | [member="Sage Bane"]​

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[member="Cyrene Miles"] | [member="Detritus"] | [member="Tmoxin Temi"] | [member="Hans Vaiden"] | [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] | [member="Cylus Jest"] | [member="Kyle Amedis"]​

 

[Jairus Starvald]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sVzvRsl4rEM​

​

In general the Voice of the Dark Lord did not involve himself with the petty squabbles and power changes which often stemmed from the lower-ranking individuals of the Imperialistic Hierarchy, it was a fact of life that when competence was lacking that the offenders would try to offset it with a blunt and painfully obvious play of power by brute force.

But sometimes a man goes too far, sometimes a man powered by audacity decides to fly just a touch too close to the sun and in those moments it was Carach, who would act as the metaphorical representation of a star to burn the invader.

Such was the way of things, and it was in this role as equalizer that the Sith Lord stepped next to [member="Vrag"] while his own fleet augmented hers in a display of authority. It seemed that these individuals thought that might… made right.

Then perhaps it was time to show them who here were in true power.

‘Quite so.’ the Sith simply said, there was no need for boasting of titles, no need to make threats.

Their appearance and simply presence spoke for itself.

 

[Placeholder 018]

Such arrogance.

It was not Sylvanan's place to decide the Captain's course of action. If Hans wanted to tussle with the bathrobe brigade, then Sylvanan would apply the appropriate pressure where it was needed. If he chose to falter to the Sith's demands, then the Arkanian would support him. Sylvanan was only another cog in the grand machine, as was Hans, and this was the Imperial's sphere of influence.

Still, a tinge of excitement rose in the scientist's chest as the Sith fleet materialized on the fringe of the system. His lips pressed into a thin, excited line. To think they would be so quick to act...this was valuable information. It showed what buttons needed to he pushed to move the Sith fleets on a moment's notice.

Gods only knew what kind of di'kut had thought that was a good strategy.

"It's your call my friend. We're between Byss and them. You'll realize if the Sith attack and your retaliate, it will start something big." Sylvanan explain. "A decorated Captain and a brigade of famed Stormtroopers attacked while reinforcing a Sith world. Terrible blow to morale, really."

The Arkanian toyed with a credit chip that he'd found in his pocket. He turned the flimsi stick over between his fingers, his expression masked by the solid wall of obsidian that was his visor. "From the lack of contact from Byss, in the form of weapons or otherwise, I would say their defenders have either turned tail, or are sympathetic to you command. Theoretically, you might repel the offenders."

A moment's pause.

"It would be a gamble. The safest option would be to turn tail and apologize. We can regroup that way." He pushed up from his seat, and sidled up to stare out the viewport. A number of vessels, enough to show strength at the very least. "The Conflagration is on station, by the way. If you get to shooting, I'll be moving to that ship." Such was necessary given his position.


"Take Byss, make it yours, strengthen the Empire. Burn and become a martyr. Leave, and find another way to achieve your goals." Sylvanan clapped a hand on the shoulder of [member="Detritus"], and looked over at Hans. "The choice, my friend, is yours. Our warriors will assist you in your endeavors. You know Tmoxin and her soldiers will stand with you."

Without another word, Sylvanan flicked holocam built into the side of his helmet. The device clicked as it came online. It would record whatever happened here, without any kind of data scrubbing.

Spoiler

[member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Lucullus Lacar"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Cylus Jest"] [member="Hans Vaiden"]

 

[Sage Bane]

Sage Bane was never one to shun his debts, and unfortunately, the newly-minted Sith Knight owed the Hand of the Dark Lord, Vrag, a rather large one. Chosen to fight alongside Vrag in her swift disposal of rogue Yuuzhan Vong forces on Zenith Prime, he had lost control of his newly grafted Vong-formed arm, a mess of black leathery amphistaves, generally hidden by a banelith masquer. The sentient tentacles, whipped into a frenzy from Sage's own bloodlust on the battlefield as well as the sight of the firrerreo swiftly decapitating the Vong commander, lashed out at the nearest sapient, which happened to be the woman who commanded Sage himself.

Needless to say, he was lucky he still had his arm attached to his body.

As penance for his grievous mistake, the Sith Knight chose to pay his debt by acting as Vrag's attritional lap dog. If there was anything in the galaxy that Vrag could teach him, it would be how to wrest control over forces stronger, madder, and more monstrous than he. After all, the woman had mastered the living, breathing Skerr Kyrric that clung to her form. Chalk it all up to a fun, little learning experience. Painful, too, but since his initiation into the ranks of the One Sith, pain was as expected and commonplace as waking up every morning.

Sage stood on the bridge of The Right Hand, Vrag's Immortal-class ship, awaiting orders from the Hand of the Dark Lord. Apparently there were some Imperial officers that were doing things that Imperial officers shouldn’t have been doing on Byss. Sage hadn’t paid too much attention to the politics behind the whole fiasco. He was simply there to support his Mistress, and be a sort of pinky finger to the Hand of the Dark Lord.

[member="Darth Carach"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Shai"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Detritus"] [member="Tmoxin Temi"] [member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] [member="Cylus Jest"] [member="Kyle Amedis"]​

 

[Tmoxin Temi]

The Commander's dropship was on the outskirts of the Emperor's Ruling City, hovering and making preparations to land when suddenly Sgt. Major Ulysses approached, a worried look on his face that Tmoxin didn't immediately see because she was heads down in tactical planning.

"Commander, you need to come to the cockpit at once."

As she inspected his tense frown, she knew something was acutely wrong. Tmoxin followed Ulysses up to the front of the ship and as the pilot said, "Disengage landing gear," the Sgt. Major interrupted:

"By the Eternal Core, do not land! Do you hear me? That is a direct order!" he shouted. I need the Commander to listen to something."

He pressed a button on the command console and a high ranking officer from the capital ship relayed the message they had just received from the Hand of the Dark Lord. Tmoxin's heart beat rapidly but she tried not to look as frightened as Ulysses. In fact, she wanted to slap the terror right off of his face right now. Do not supplicate your fear, she warned herself. They were so close to executing this operation, adrenaline had been coursing through her veins for a straight thirty minutes. Tmoxin now felt only a white hot rage that these plans had been halted and that there would be no climax of action to soothe her. Her anger was so palpable that a couple of nearby troopers stepped warily away from her.

"You heard the Major," said Commander Temi in a firm, unemotional voice. "Do not land. If we land that will be seen as an act of aggression. We are in a holding pattern until we receive orders from the Captain."

She turned to Ulysses and said, "Tell the troops to stand by. Don't tell them the reason, but they will start to get antsy back there if nothing is said."

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"] [member="Hans Vaiden"] [member="Cylus Jest"] [member="Cyrene Miles"] [member="Detritus"] [member="Darth Carach"] [member="Darth Hauntruss"] [member="Shai"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Lucullus Lacar"]