Dominion Kickin Ast | SO Dominion of Ast Kikorie

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:

The sound of the Councilor's footsteps stopped. Irina had asked her the burning question. If it were just that, Quinn would have revealed the details behind her tone. Yet, Irina didn't know when to stop, when to bite her tongue…

"A bad day?" Quinn echoed. Her eyes settled on the sky where their shuttle and several others had fallen from. Was this all that this day was to the Apprentice… just simply a bad day?

Quinn exhaled softly as she shook her head, "No, this isn't a bad day." Finally, she turned to face the isolated acolyte who failed to learn the place she had put herself in.

"Today is a terrible day. Do you not see the dying and the dead around you? Do you not comprehend the lives that were just lost?" She was appalled by the girl's language. Shaking her head, Quinn stepped back and sighed.

"You wouldn't understand. It's unfair that I expect you to understand." She paused and then began to turn away to continue what she needed to do.

Irina had stated that they were not peers, they were not the same, and could never be. The girl wouldn't be able to even bear the thought that all of these lives depended on her actions, her choices…

Quinn should have been able to stop this, unfair, but it was the truth. Even if there was nothing she could do, at the end of the day, she had to answer for their deaths, for this mistake.

"You know." Quinn shook her head, "If I could, I'd sacrifice your pointless life to bring them all back…"

She began to walk again, not caring what the girl thought. She was below her.

"At least they understood their duty; you just pretend to."

A hand waved as she knelt to pull wreckage off of another figure that groaned and called out for help.

"Do something at least, if you get in your way, I'd rather deal with the wrath of your Master, than look at you standing there with that stupid look on your face…"

Quinn glanced over her shoulder and nearly laughed at the pathetic sight, "...as if you're going to try and act on your hurt feelings."

Aerik Lechner deserved better, Quinn thought quietly to herself as she caressed and memorized the face of another young acolyte who had lost their life. She let her face soften just for a moment as the boy looked too much like the young wolf... and a part of her just once wished she could return his feelings.

Maybe he'd have someone worth his time.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

DIRECT TAG: Aerik Lechner
MENTIONED: Srina Talon Darth Prazutis

It appeared the wolf had caught a scent.
​

Interesting as it was that Aerik had not taken his bait, Nefaron was far more intrigued by the boy than he initially imagined. Though an apprentice to Darth Prazutis, Aerik's birth surname carried far more weight in these dark days. With the ascension of the Empress, Srina Talon, her relationships and confidants gained far more power, even if they would not admit it. Gerwald Lechner, Master of the Second Legion and Emperor's Wrath, was at the forefront of every major Sith Campaign and would no doubt lead the amalgamation of Sith forces into the Core.

Yet he, too, had faltered on his path.

He had loved. There were children to carry on his name.​

This was a weakness, a weakness that any Sith could exploit. But Aerik would become far more than a pawn in a plot to bring down his father, yet the Corpse Lord would need to see just what he was capable of, if he had that fire within his black heart that would see him fully embrace the Dark Side or allow room in his heart for another and therefore damn himself.

When Aerik began his hunt, Nefaron was not far behind. While he hesitated in activating his lightsaber once more, he was keenly aware that they might be ambushed at any moment. Still, it seemed better to gather potential allies than simply wait to pick off the first patrol that happened upon the pair of Sith.

"Hunting?"

Nefaron chuckled lightly, perhaps entertained at the Spawn's idea of war. Yet the Corpse Lord did not press the subject any further and instead chose a different path altogether.

"Any allies we gather must serve as a distraction. Should we find a gap in their defenses, we could quite easily bring down the shield that protects their pathetic city and perhaps find the source of their little trick."

Right on the apprentice's heels, the Terror Lord took the opportunity to gauge the boy's thoughts, perhaps even see just how he might handle the perilous situation they found themselves in if he were in command of the invasion.

"Unless, of course, you find stealth to be a waste of time. Your father would certainly lead a frontal assault that would needlessly waste his own resources for the sake of glory."

A jab at Gerwald, and Nefaron knew all too well the path he took. Having been around the man sparingly, the Corpse Lord might as well have lied about the course of action the Warlord might have taken if he were here instead of his spawn, but he didn't need to speak truth to drag out the reaction he was looking for. Should the boy prove cunning as well as strong, then he may just have a role in Nefaron's future plans.

All in good time. ​

 

[Helix]

Objective II: Douse The Lamp
Tags: Reina Daival ​

"I could maybe back it up, if I was in top condition. I am not. Perhaps I am being modest, but I don't quite think my mastery of the Force is at the level where I could easily tear apart squads of people."

"Fair enough." Murmured the mechanoid quietly, photoreceptor-pods still fixated on the tower. He seemed to take this self-assessment at face value, and didn't appear inclined to question it. "That in mind, minimizing risk is indeed the best policy."

He was quiet as she gave her thoughts on the problem ahead, eventually selecting his first proposal as the least lethal of the bunch. "I quite agree. It does still involve a level of risk that, at any other time, I'd consider unacceptable. Still, it's less suicidal than the other options at hand, and desperate times call for desperate measures." In fact, it was exactly the sort of stupid, foolhardy plan that Helix had seen destroy larger forces time and time again. Many, many lifetimes ago, when he was more limited in mind and body, he'd marveled at the sort of mad bravery and unusual creativity that organic troops could display, given the right motivators. Now, when he could consider such plans himself, they seemed less marvelous, and more just dangerous.

To suit the action to the word, Helix's surface rippled, reforming itself into the spitting image of one of the hapless soldiers they'd butchered a few minutes past. Of course, he'd been sure to make his appearance match the story they were selling; he was bloodied, unkempt, and sporting a passable imitation of a lightsaber scar.

"I wouldn't worry about doing your part quickly. Doing it reliably is infinitely more important." He said, utilizing the soldier's voice in a tone that was probably intended to be genial. The apparition held out one empty hand, causing a portion of his surface to assume the shape of a blaster rifle.

"Presuming it works, and they let us in, they'll have no reason to suspect anything untoward. That means we will not need to be in any particular hurry. After all, I doubt the tower is going anywhere, unless other survivors beat us there, as you hope. If they do, more power to them."

"You'd best hide those weapons, though." He added. "I don't think they'll be quite stupid enough to buy that..." he paused for a heartbeat to access bits of stolen memory from the man's copied neural data. "Sergeant Rakk here would just let you keep them if he'd miraculously managed to capture you. I'm not going to ask you to give them to me, because you will need them if they aren't fooled, and we have to go to plan B. Just keep them out of sight if you can."

He waved the fake rifle in his hands. "After you."

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Darth Nefaron​

Aerik moved through the wreckage without slowing.

The twisted hulls of fallen transports created narrow channels of broken durasteel and scattered debris that forced careful steps as burning fuel continued to spit and crackle across the field. Smoke drifted low across the ground and carried the scent of scorched circuitry and charred flesh.

Behind him Nefaron’s voice carried across the debris.

“Hunting?”

Aerik stepped over the fractured wing of a ruined dropship and continued forward, the magma orange blade in his hand casting a molten glow across the broken metal around them.

“It is a battlefield,” he said as he picked his way through the debris. “The difference is only perspective.”

His free hand lifted without thought and brushed the scar along his jaw before lowering again.

The suggestion about allies and distractions lingered in his mind as he moved across the wreckage. Numbers mattered even among the Sith. Pressure created fractures, and fractures eventually broke defenses.

Aerik slowed near a ridge of collapsed plating and looked out across the burning scrapyard toward the distant shimmer of the shielded city.

“If we gather enough survivors,” he said while stepping down from the ridge into another channel of broken hulls, “they will serve as more than a distraction.”

He reached out through the Force again. The connection remained muted and uneven, but the presence he had sensed earlier shifted faintly somewhere ahead of them.

“Someone here built the weapon that crippled the descent,” he continued while angling through a gap between two wrecked transports. “If the shield protecting that city falls, their advantage disappears with it.”

The next words from Nefaron reached him as Aerik climbed over the shattered engine housing of another transport.

Your father would certainly lead a frontal assault.

Aerik slowed.

His next step landed heavily against the broken plating beneath his boots. The orange glow of his blade flickered across the metal while his hand rose again and brushed the scar along his jaw before lowering.

“My father would do whatever was required,” he said while stepping down from the wreckage.

He moved forward again through the debris field without turning back.

“He does not waste soldiers,” Aerik added as he passed a shattered cargo container. “He spends them, like any strategist would.”

The distinction settled into the space between them as he continued toward the wreckage ahead.

“If a frontal assault achieved what it was meant to,” he said while stepping onto a rise in the debris, “he would take it.”

From the rise the field of burning dropships stretched across the outskirts of the industrial complex where the invasion had fallen apart.

Aerik reached outward through the interference again and felt the faint pulse of the Dark Side flicker somewhere below the wreckage ahead.

“Stealth has its place,” he said while descending the slope of broken metal toward a partially buried transport. “But only if it leads to an outcome worth reaching. It’s not about which method is better. It is about which one produces the preferred result."

He lifted the blade and angled it toward the collapsed troop bay where twisted plating had folded inward.

The presence inside shifted again.

Alive.

“Which is why we start here,” he said as he stepped toward the opening in the ruined hull.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Helix
Objective:

Depending on how you viewed it, the simple act of living was risky. Reina wouldn't be surprised how many droids would probably see it as too risky. She felt like it was something that a bunch of nuts and bolts wouldn't be able to understand, but she wasn't going to complain about it. It wasn't important for the mission as she just watched Helix change, blinking ever so slightly at the disguise. It was a neat little trick to say the least.

"I can do it reliably enough. I'm not some kind of neophyte with the Force. And if this does work, how do we know they won't try to send an extra guard with us to "back you up?" There are a lot of potential things that can go wrong with the plan. The faster we get it done, the better."

It was true at least that without any flaws in the plan, the guards would probably let them through. But Reina was the kind to always try and figure out what to do if the plan went wrong. More often than not, it was fine making the plan, but when you put it into action, the plan nearly always went out of the window. Being able to improvise was one of the best skills a mercenary could have.

"Do you think I look roughed up enough that they'd buy our story?"

There had been the stream of blood going down her face from the crash, alongside a few cuts and scraps. No injuries from actually dealing with the soldiers. With the story they were going with, and the fact that "Sergeant Raak" had a lightsaber scar, it would make sense as to why she wasn't shot, but she wasn't necessarily sure if she looked beaten enough to buy the entire story. So she braced herself for any sudden strikes Helix may have given when he thought Reina wasn't expecting.

Part of her debated if she should give Helix her lightsaber as well. Sure, she needed her weapons, but she'd be fine with the dagger. There was every chance however that things would go a lot more worse than she expected, so she hid the lightsaber within her robes, whilst she adjusted the sheathe for her dagger, attaching it to her wrist to make it easier to draw out of her sleeve in case things went wrong.

Then with that, Reina started to move ahead. It was time for some of her acting skills, as she dragged her leg behind her, almost as if she was limping. Wasn't too hard for her to replicate that, considering she had plenty of experience relying on one leg in the past.

​

 

[Irina Jesart]

Quinn Varanin

Irina was silent, torn for a moment between two halves of herself. The woman who understood that Quinn was above her in every way, and the one who refused to be silent, who refused to be dismissed. The ‘look’ that Quinn saw was not that of a wounded child, but a woman fighting two parts of herself. She had suffered worse insults from the honeyed tongues of nobles than this spoiled Queen whose status was little more than the result of nepotism, could ever deliver.

There were two problems staring Rin in the face.

The first, that Aerik considered this woman one of his pack.

The second, was that the Second Legion would one day fall to her, which meant that no matter how she looked at this, no matter what either of them thought of each other.

Their futures were entwined.

Irina took a long breath, exhaling out of her nose, letting the mask fall back into place.

“Death, is a part of war.” she said quietly, moving to another chunk of wreckage easing it upright with a gentle push in the force, unveiling another body. “These men and women went into battle, knowing this, allowing my emotions to rule the moment, to lash out needlessly at those around me would be a futile waste of energy.”

She crouched, one hand reaching to check for a pulse and finding none. “My duty is to find who did this and destroy them, not allow myself to be used as a verbal punching bag for you.” She straightened, memorising the woman's face, before turning to look back at Quinn, eyes ablaze with fire.

“So, Councillor, if you have quite finished? I would suggest we round up those who are able and find a defensible position instead of wasting time on the dead or dying. We can give them the time of day when the battle is won.”

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Irina Jesart //:

Quinn was tending to another as Irina continued to talk. The casual tone of her words annoyed Quinn. If things were different, if she had accepted the Councilor's friendship, maybe this would have unfolded differently.

Right now, Quinn was hoping the girl would learn to bite her tongue — something that Quinn would have to bring up to her fellow Councilor.

"Are you still talking?" Quinn asked, "I don't care what you believe your duty is, or this pathetic excuse for strength or bravery."

Her eyes settled on the apprentice once more, and she looked down on her. There was an absence of thought and understanding in the plain words she spoke.

"Death is a part of war. But that doesn't mean you lose sight of the people that go to war with you… for you." She turned her attention back to the woman that Irina had only offered a moment to. Quinn brushed aside the girl and moved the woman from under the wreckage.

"We all know what we sign up for when we go to war, but your lack of understanding is apparent." She continued to tend to the woman, adjusting her clothing and closing her eyes. When the Echani was done, she looked to see if she was asleep among the wreckage.

"They might not mean anything to you, but at the end of the day… at the end of the war and their life…" she paused, remembering the lessons of her youth - watching her parents send millions to war… to their deaths and then mourning each and every loss.

"They're still my people, and they still deserve respect — to die in battle is a great honor, a warrior's death," Like the Empress, the Queen of Eshan was an Echani, a culture of warriors.

Quinn moved past her and again looked down at her from the corner of her eye.

"I doubt you lack the maturity to even understand any of this, so I won't hold it against you."

Quinn continued, it annoyed her that Gerwald would send this girl into the field, placing people under her or with her, as she lacked the basic understanding of caring for those who fight with her. To leave the dead mangled, tossed aside like fodder. Quinn had seen enough during her youth and now in the position she was in. Irina would never understand it, and Quinn had no hope of her ever being able to.

"You care about only the things that benefit you. It's troubling, and an embarrassment to your Master." Quinn's tone lacked any emotion now — there was no more to tell her. This interaction, along with the one before it, was enough for her to see. Irina was what the Sith wanted, a war machine without empathy.

Quinn mused as she offered another lost soul a quiet and painless death. Maybe she was the broken one, the one that didn't fit the mold of the Empire. Perhaps, she had too much empathy? Still, to see the calm as men and women, at times not much older than her, allowed that much before death wouldn't change things.

"As for your duty, you're to do as you're told. I attempted to make you my equal, but you refused it outright. You can't do anything, so do yourself a favor and just listen and hope that you can at least do as you're told."

Another sound, another person, and Quinn helped them up. A small discussion between them and Quinn allowed the healing that she had done with Skadi to heal the man who leaned against you. His gratitude was shown in spite of the pain, and he began to do the same as her.

Find the dead, find the living, and continue.

"Also, Apprentice, don't talk to me so casually as if we're equals." Her throat cleared as she turned to face Irina.

"As you said, you aren't entirely sure if you can consider yourself a peer of the Heir Apparent, the Queen of Eshan, and a Dark Councilor… so remember your station, Apprentice."

 

[Irina Jesart]

Quinn Varanin

It wasn’t strength or bravery, it was simply a matter of getting the job done and this was a waste of time. If whoever had struck them down decided to sweep the area as she would have done they were all sitting ducks. She stepped aside as Quinn moved in, watching the gentle way she pulled her from the wreckage, laying her on the ground and straightening her clothes, closing her eyes.

It was not that Rin did not understand it, she did in her own way. The Emberborne had been handpicked by her, everyone of their lives was her responsibility and their deaths sat heavy in her heart, it was just that the moment was… irrational. Her eyes flicked over the woman she laid to rest, trying to comprehend Quinn’s need to address it in the moment.

The words that did strike a chord though, making Rin’s head snap up were those regarding Gerwald.

An embarrassment to your Master…

That stung, more than she was willing to show. Her dedication to Gerwald, to all he taught her. She was proud to call him her Master, but if he was witnessing this…if he could see this interaction, would he think the same? Irina swallowed, her feet shifting as shame crept up to heat her face. For the first time in a long time, Irina felt small.

When Quinn turned back to face her, throwing her own words back in Irina’s face, the defiance in her eyes fading, sadness and regret replacing it.

She had earned this.

“As you command, Councillor.” Irina replied quietly with a bow of her head, moving to the next pile of twisted durasteel as she swallowed her pride and beginning to clear it aside.

 

[Drystan Creed]

AST KIKORIE

The twig snap proved enough to catch a scout's attention, but subtle enough to keep away the others. Drystan waited behind a tree, tilting his head, waiting in ambush.

As soon as the scout entered his reach, in a blur, Drystan's hands grabbed deep into the cloth of his fatigues, jerking him behind the tree. As fast as it was elegant, only the rustling of the green could be heard and seen as the scout disappeared from the clearing completely.

"You can wake up later, or not. The choice is yours." Drystan smiled, as a mechanical hand clamped at the mouth of the scout's sweating and panic-laden face.

A few agonizing minutes later, the scout's body crumpled into the grass, unconscious but still alive. Drystan crouched above it, digging into the unconscious man's pockets and pouches.

"Did you get all that? Relay station's not far. Bit more of an outfit than usual with the invasion going on." He pulled out a cred stick, whistling before stowing it into his coat.

"Could be fun knocking on the front door, but that could tip them off to wiping the servers. Or we could take the clandestine approach through the waste tunnels. Hope you didn't wear your sith day's best, or whatever you reds call it."

Drystan shrugged, digging into the scout's body again and producing a silver canteen, in awe at his find, he twisted the cap and took a swig, tasting the alcohol, before offering a sip to his partner in crime.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Srina Talon]

​

TAG: Mercy
LOCATION: Ast Kikorie [Ancient Observatory in the Mountains]

The wind curled around the broken frame of the observatory before tugging gently at the dark cloak that draped over her thin armor. It was chilly, frigid to most, but the Echani warrior didn't feel cold to the same degree as many species did. It was the affinity of House Talon, and she had learned from a very, very young age how to protect herself from frostbite. The contact from her companion, hip and shoulder, registered the way everything did for the diminutive sovereign. Quietly. Her posture did not shift to accommodate the larger woman, nor did she shift away…Simply letting it exist.

Like surface tension, along a tranquil lake.

The kiss of Srina's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly at being referred to as "sweetheart" but she didn't outwardly react. She had never cared for doting little nicknames because too often they came with a smear of disdain, hidden behind saccharine sweetness. Mercy would have known that, but the ivory-haired woman found that often, telling Mercy not to do something only made her want to do it more. Since she had taken to wearing the yoke of an Empress, Srina understood that it was the little rebellions that kept her alive.

The bursts of fire that kept her from devouring her own court for the sheer entertainment factor.

Instead, she listened and focused solely on the other words that were offered. The red-haired woman was delving into that strange honesty again. It was unguarded in a way that Srina rarely witnessed from Sith of their caliber…But their relationship was hard to define. Battle-Sisters.

The title had not been given lightly and without consequence, but it felt right. It was an unexpected friendship, especially when she took the time to consider the wide berth she tended to give those who spent time with her eldest daughter…But it was there. Real. Grounded in blood and sacrifice without the all-too-common threat of mutual destruction. They didn't exist to best one another or beat one another to death. It went far beyond that. "Yes, yes…You are a Mistress of all trades…Still…", she murmured, casting Mercy a sidelong glance.

"…Do you not learn from me as I from you?"

Her fingers stayed on the console when Mercy's golden hand descended, though, part of her recoiled fiercely. She was getting better at not reacting to the Star Arm, and pale skin beneath silk and armor remained perfectly still as Thronegrasp began to seep into the system around her. Breath caught in her throat, stuck, the Empress of the Order had to fight to keep fire from bleeding into her eyes while her beast roared. Increasingly, it grew disturbed.

The reaction of the old observatory was almost immediate, however, and lights along the wall began to shudder violently. Ancient processors began to whine as Mercy's influence spread through old and rotting circuitry that was never meant to host such a thing. Beneath their hands, the atmosphere shifted, and the distortion she had noticed reacted like water being struck by a stone.

Her head tilted slightly…

Did she feel it?

"No. I feel nothing at all…Was that the wind?"

The deadpan teasing could have been missed were it not for the fact that present company had endured her attempts at humor enough times to recognize it. The interference pressed back now, curious, and aware. The old containment systems that were buried in the grid stirred uneasily as Thronegrasp spread through the console and into the surrounding archives. Equipment woke with protest, and Srina lifted her free hand to slowly, carefully, place it against Mercy's golden wrist…

Not stopping her, but providing a force-bound anchor to add stability.

"Careful…"

She wasn't chastising her, but there was something certain about her tone. The data that flashed in her mind was unwinding slowly. They weren't the first to explore these ruins, and the last time someone tried to force these systems to interact, half their landing force fell out of the sky. The console flickered harder as the corruption dug deeper, and she couldn't help but wonder if Mercy had developed some form of Mechu-deru with how quickly she advanced. "I want to discover whatever this equipment was built to restrain, but it may bite harder than you do…"

The ghost of dry amusement lingered, hidden, but evident when yellow-gold eyes dashed upward.

"So. You may keep playing your cards until it…Folds?"

See? She was definitely learning how to play poker.

 

[Mercy]

Srina Talon

"…Do you not learn from me as I from you?"

"Of course. Have you not noticed how much more careful I am since I met you?" It was given as a jest, but there was truth to it... somewhat. Mercy, even if she wouldn't say it outright, was satisfied to be able to witness Srina in her glory and rule. Empress of the Order, Empress of the Rim. The first Empress of the Sith in so many years, Mercy couldn't even remember when the last time was.

Perhaps Ashin Varanin, Empress of a Thousand Worlds? And that reign had been beautiful but extremely short.

Not that many role models to pick from.

Maybe outward it didn't look like Mercy had changed very much since they had met on Jutrand and had their first dance. But the Mercy of then would not have accepted being stuck at court and would have lashed out way sooner.

This Mercy was much more patient.

"No. I feel nothing at all…Was that the wind?"

A long sigh escaped from the mountain.

"You are cute when you are trying to be funny." Her free hand reached out and booped Srina gently on the nose. "When I realized we were sisters, I didn't think that included being bullied however, is there still room to reassess?"

Her power was a current, chaotic and wild, but the anchor provided by Srina's touch steadied it.

"I want to discover whatever this equipment was built to restrain, but it may bite harder than you do…"

"Nothing bites harder than I do..." Mercy drawled, absently, brows furrowed as she focused. Thronegrasp was charting out the system and already Mercy was getting the impression of something large. Something... that spanned beyond the Observatory. A construction that didn't just exist in the physical, but stretched towards a realm that Mercy had little knowledge of.

"But... I think you are right... this is something else entirely..."

"So. You may keep playing your cards until it…Folds?"

That coaxed a laugh out of the large woman and she shook her head.

"I take it back. I don't know what I would do without your flavor of humor..." But those brows stayed furrowed however as her arm leached deeper into the system until a hologram popped up in front of them. Coming into existence as it filled the large room. For a moment it wasn't clear to Mercy what it was exactly projecting, until it finally hit Mercy.

"See? It's a map... but I don't think I have ever seen a world like that... you?"

 

[Helix]

Objective II: Douse The Lamp
Tags: Reina Daival
​

Helix made a show of nudging her forward with the rifle. "If they try that, then we'll graciously accept the extra security, allow them to show us inside, then snap some necks at first opportunity." The droid-thing chuckled unpleasantly in the soldier's voice, apparently finding the idea somewhat entertaining.

"I've been doing this sort of thing for a while, and with that has come a number of hard lessons. One of those is this: it's easy to keep your enemy outside the gate. Getting him out again when he's already inside is another matter entirely."

"Do you think I look roughed up enough that they'd buy our story?"

He looked her over for a moment. "You look as though you've been partly mangled in a shuttle crash." Came the honest answer, and not without a touch of dry humor. "While I'm certain that wasn't enjoyable for you, we will ideally be able to turn that setback into an asset. That's what war is all about, after all."

"If they ask, I'll say that cut that's bleeding into your eyes came from a rifle butt, and that's how I got the better of you. Sure, I wouldn't believe that story, and neither would you. Nonetheless..." He tapped the rank insignia on his sleeve. "Worst comes to worst, I'll try to pull rank on that front."

Of course, Helix had no intention of letting so much as another scratch befall his new friend. The idea of trying to take the place alone was intensely unappealing; the idea of explaining her death in his after-action report was even more so.

For all he knew, this was the apprentice or servant of some big-shot upper-crust type from Jutrand or the Holy Worlds. Normally, Helix thrived on being ignored by such big-shots. He'd gotten wealthy and powerful from that ignorance. After all, if you allowed people to feel superior to you, they were often quite easy to manipulate.

While he was not entirely averse to a little more credit for his accomplishments, an operational failure would be a bad time for the higher-ups to start paying attention.

True to form, a dozen guns swiveled in their direction as they approached the laser-gate. "Halt! Identify yourself!" Helix fought the urge to roll his (or more accurately, Rakk's) eyes. Not Imperial, but certainly stormtroopers to the bone, these. Regurgitating the same few lines in an authoritative tone.

Gathering air into his new lungs, he snapped back in the tone of appropriately-exasperated rage peculiar to superior officers the galaxy over. "Are you frakking blind?" Barked the mechanoid. "Sergeant Arlo Rakk, serial number #443892-7. You want my blood type and my mother's maiden name too?"

"Stop gawking and get out of the way. I've got one of them, and I'm taking her to holding for processing." He pulled the "ID card" from his "vest" waving it where it could be seen.

The soldiers looked at one another, then back at the pair. For a moment, Helix was beginning to doubt this heavy-handed approach. In his experience, it was best to simply bludgeon your way through these things, giving nobody time to consider the protocols or ask too many questions.

Finally, but with more hesitation than he'd have liked, they stood aside from the scanner. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on where one stood), a lot of their unease seemed focused on the Sith.

"See boys? They're not so tough. Just flesh n' blood like you n' me. Nothing a good crack with a rifle stock won't put a dent in." From what he'd managed to salvage from Rakk's personality and memories, he was lead to believe that this crude, boisterous manner was normal for the sergeant.

He tapped the fake key card confidently against the scanner, keeping the other hand occupied with the rifle. Everything now was out of his hands. He just had to keep them occupied and uninformed while Reina tricked the thing using whatever sorcery she had utilized before.

"You... hit her?" Asked one of the soldiers, apparently surprised. "Mama didn't raise no bantha fodder, Rold." Helix replied, accessing the watchman's name. "That's why your ass guards the gate, and mine goes outside to do real work."

"Think she got beat up in the crash." He continued, doing his best to keep their attention on him and the story, rather than on Reina. "Seemed kinda out of it. Still quick enough to get Wince, Stryk, and Steffson though. Ain't her lucky day, or theirs. Maybe the boys in detention can make her talk." He shrugged in the sort of false-modest, I'm-getting-promoted way that any soldier who'd managed to best a Sith might do.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Kaivaan Raaf Persephone Dashiell
​

She had expected resistance and defiance. After all, many worlds did not find it encouraging when a Sith fleet arrived in the system to bring them under their banner. The damage that her grandson reported on about the skyhook command center for the orbital arrays was quite helpful, and it demonstrated to her what sort of resistance they may encounter from whatever science team Ast Kikorie had scrounged together. They already understood that they couldn't stop them from taking the facility, but they were going to make it cost more than the initial estimates. If she had known that had been the goal for the planet down below as well, her mood may have been less forgiving.

As it were, the Lady of Secrets and her team were blissfully unaware of the chaos the landing force had encountered and were marching into the central command hub after minimal exertion to establish security over the station. She was letting it be a learning opportunity for her grandson, but she was concerned that Persephone had not said much so far. She had expected, and would have been glad, to answer questions she may have had about the orbital observatory arrays and their history. Maybe once control was fully established, the young Dashiell would start her questions. She liked the girl's intellect.

The administrator for the facility started to protest, but one look at Kaivaan behind her seemed to change his tune. She would quirk an amused eyebrow up at her grandson before turning back to the facility administrator. "If you're worried about potential loss of autonomy or funding, I can assure you Director..." she would allow his name to float to the top of his mind, scanning them briefly with a light touch in the Force, "...Graegor that the Sphere of Research and Science will more than make up for the shortfall. This is more of a... change in management than a hostile takeover."

Of course, if he did want to further protest, there was always option number two as she regarded a slight shift in the mind of another researcher, a young female Twi'lek astrocartographer, that seemed more in line with the Sith than her fellows. Still, she hoped that a negotiation would be better for all involved.

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Helix
Objective:

"Hm. I've found somewhat similar. Except that the easy part is getting in. It's the getting out that becomes the hard part. Once we manage to deal with the tower, all of their eyes are going to be on here, instead of out there, looking for any other survivors. And I'm unsure if we'll get any reinforcements any time soon"

Either way, she gave a small shrug of her shoulders at Helix's assessment at how she looked. He had a point she supposed. It would make sense that a group of soldiers would have been able to overpower someone in her condition, not without a fair few casualties. if it hadn't been for Helix, there was most definitely a chance that Reina would have been captured, or at least reported in. She supposed she might as well have some form of respect for the droid. He was more capable than most organics she worked with. Better than any Alliance members she had worked with at the very least.

"It's not enjoyable. But I've survived far worse than this. Not that they're going to need to know any of that. They can think I'm as weak and as pathetic as they like."

Another part of Reina that made her believe she did not suit being a Sith. With most of the ones she had met, they wouldn't dare let themselves be seen as lesser than non-force sensitives, or non Sith. But to Reina, it was a means to an end. It wouldn't matter how much they looked down upon her. Sooner or later, they'd be the ones dead, in chains or begging for mercy. She'd be the one who comes out on top in the end, not them. Though that would only be if she could continue this mission and achieve it, as she carried on with her performance, limping ahead.
​

"Halt! Identify yourself!"

"Your wors-"

The Siren broke out into a groan of mock pain at that, reaching a hand down to her side, as if the simple act of talking was causing her pain. It wasn't, but it would play into the role of a battered and bruised Sith. Even as Helix speak himself, Reina let her eyes scan along all of the blasters aimed in their direction. She could probably...take on half of them as they are. Though they'd be able to sound the alarm before she could silence them all. So it was best for her to continue along with the plan.

And so as they got up to the scanner, Reina just leaned against the wall, playing into how injured she was meant to be. Letting out a few huffs and puffs, as she held out her spare hand and let the Force flow through her and into the card-reader. Helix was keeping the guards occupied talking, making her seem far more human than she was but that was good. She scrunched her face up in concentration, as she worked away, eventually managing to "trick" the reader to activate, under the false pretense of the card.

"...You can try to get your boys to get me to talk...It won't go well for them. Or you. But you can try."

It wouldn't make sense for her not to try and get some kind of snide comment out. It would have made the entire thing seem to strange. If she had been the one on guard, she'd have taken note of it. So she did her best to make sure that wouldn't be a problem for the pair. And as the door shifted open, the Siren just waited for the "Sergeant" to push her forward

​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Madrona A’Mia
--------------------------------------------

As His hidden gaze roamed over the now somewhat cratered area surrounding the crash site, Darth Strosius sensed a familiar presence pricking at the back of His mind even as He kept a watchful eye for movement beyond the crashing crafts and their scarce occupants. He glanced back at the direction of the sensation and did a double take when He spotted a very familiar Neti waving at Him from another wrecked ship alongside an usual figure "A'Mia?!" He soon realized that His feet were already carrying Him towards her even as her name slipped from His mask.

Darth Strosius kept up the stride to cross the distance between them, traversing the torn and upturned earth with no real difficulty to speak of. His gaze was fully set on examining A'Mia herself, His critical and scrutinizing eyes looking her up and down in search of any signs of injury or clear physical distress. Thankfully she didn't seem to possess any from what He could discern and that fact alone made some of the tension bundled in His form from the crash waft away in a sigh.

"Malul, are you really present or merely a wonderful hallucination?" The question was made in jest of course, He was fairly confident that He hadn't hit His head at all during the descent. Fairly. Just to be safe, the masked man did idly offer her His hand to her all the same. He spared the armor a wary glance than soon trailed back to regard His soldiers pulling themselves from the shuttle wreck in tandem with those now emerging from behind the Neti's own.

"It appears as though we aren't quite welcome. Either that or the people of Ast Kikorie are just terrible hosts." He noted with a measure of dryness and concern in equal measure. There was little to nothing worthwhile around them in terms of cover or even a proper defensive position and as such moving away from the crash sites would have to be a priority sooner rather than later. "We're too exposed out here, if they send anyone to check for survivors our options of engagement are far too limited. Let's see what we can find along the way to that eyesore on the horizon, shall we?"

 

[Helix]

Objective II: Douse The Lamp
Tags: Reina Daival ​

"...You can try to get your boys to get me to talk...It won't go well for them. Or you. But you can try."

"Mouthy one, ain't she?" Commented the Rakk-Helix, making a show of digging a cigar from his vest.

"You want some extra security, Sarge?" Asked one of the men, nervously keeping one finger on the trigger of his weapon.

"Sure, if you know anybody who's not got something better to do. You boys have a gate to watch, so that rules you out. Unless you want all her friends to just walk right in like they own the damn place." Helix went so far as to generate a "lighter" from his skin, igniting the "cigar" to sell the illusion.

"Let me tell you, you do not want more than one of these pointed your way. They're beyond dangerous. Keep your eyes open, your blasters primed, and your heads on swivels, boys." He grumbled, gripping Reina by the shoulder and pulling her upward as she slumped. "Up and at em, lady. You got a date with an interrogation room and some really, really bright lights. I myself have a date with a promotion."

Thankfully, the soldiers seemed a little too distracted at the prospect of one of their opponents getting some long-overdue comeuppance, and didn't press the issue of security further. Inwardly, Helix was glad it had gone according to plan. There had been a fairly-decent chance that it wouldn't.

Still, nobody ever lost money betting on the cruelty and apathy of the galaxy's cutthroat class, and the plan had ultimately been founded upon that. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised.

Helix sauntered through the now-deactivated laser gate, keeping a seemingly-close eye on the prisoner in front of him.

Inside, security was surprisingly sparse. The entire place had the air of a facility that had long been abandoned, then suddenly reactivated in dire need. In all likelihood, this was exactly the case. The occasional pair of soldiers walked past, hurrying on their way to unknown duties. Still, judging by the rows of cheap prefab barracks, there had to easily be a few hundred individuals here, if not more. Brute force was beginning to look less appealing all the time.

"Nice work back there." Helix murmured quietly, giving a quick glance around to make sure nobody was listening. "Granted, they weren't really the galaxy's best and brightest, but all the same. I have a feeling that little machine-trick of yours will be coming in handy again in the near future."

He glanced upward towards the tower, looming away to their right. "Problem is, I don't think they'll just let me march a prisoner in there, fancy rank chevrons or no. Lying our way into there might be a little harder, and we risk getting cornered if we try to blitz it."

Not for the first time, Helix wished the faceless drones responsible for intelligence had actually done their homework. This was rapidly getting more and more complicated, and the chance of failure rose with every passing second.

"Be nice if the rest would hit the walls about now, draw their attention, but we've not been that lucky so far. Tentative plan: we recon the tower, see how densely they've got it guarded. If it's only a few, we might be able to kill them discretely like we did before. Otherwise, well. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. Hard to come up with a real plan in the absence of data."

 

[Aistrella]

Location: Outskirts of Kikorie City - Ast Kikorie
Thread Objective: Douse the Lamp
Tag: Lirka Ka

Pointed ears twitched as they registered the resounding thuds of a monstrous, armored figure slamming into the door with such stunning force that Aistrella would have been easily crushed were she to find herself in its path. Fortunately, with her ultrasensitive hearing, she now knew where exactly the survivor was inside the wreckage. And the tiny elfin assassin knew well enough to stay clear of anyone capable of such devastating impacts.

“I will provide assistance, Councillor.” Aistrella replied to Lirka’s negative assessment of her situation. She was lucky that her own gear was hardened against ionic interference. Had it not been, the Shikkari might have found herself in a similar predicament, trapped inside of a wreckage that could erupt into an inferno at any moment.

Yet another reason for her to stand clear.

“If you are able to do so, please move away from the bulkhead.” She added, her tone gentle, but firm. Once she received confirmation that the Imperator was clear, Aistrella stepped away from the wreckage, until she was just over 10 meters distant. That was when she moved. A sharp, pointed finger, and a single blade of the Midnight Harmony darted towards the wreckage with a near-silent hum before stabbing into the door, its searing nonharmonic Class-D disruptor energy field vaporizing the surrounding material in the process. Aistrella swept her arm around in a deliberate arc, to which the blade responded by swiftly carving a wide circular breach into the door as the acrid scent of atomized metal filled the area. Once the hole was complete, she recalled the blade with a beckoning curl of her fingers. The weapon sang through the air in obedient response, before returning to hover at her back.

Aistrella took another cautious step backward then, her posture poised and ready for the monster that would come through the now-compromised door at any moment!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Midnight Graveglass
  
  • Arms
    
    • Velocity-7 Dart Shooter - L Forearm
      
      • Mk. I Saberdart - Blood Boiler Payload (6)
      • Explosive Dart (6)
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - R Forearm
• Midnight Harmony (2)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)