Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Minutes to Midnight || SO Dominion of Sullust Hex

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Rimma Trade Route
903 ABY

The fall of the Rimward Trade League spurred a hundred worlds to action and debate, proselytising their own apocalypse at the iron curtain of the Sith and its inexorable approach. In these panicked council hearings, military strategy meetings, and executive briefings, some worlds folded to the coming threat. To save their worlds, they would surrender to the Sith’s approach, and with their cowardice came the continuation of their people’s lives.

While rebel forces continued to try and hold back the Sith, the majority of the Sith’s First Legion moved down the Hydian Way and Rimma Trade Route towards the Galactic Alliance’s border worlds. In the aftermath of their victory against the Dark Empire, the Sith redoubled their efforts to close the gap - so that they may still be taken off guard. A foothold had to be established before the war began proper, and so a blitzkrieg was brought to bear.

The Emperor Empyrean continued his war in the galactic north in the Tingel Arm, carelessly destroying world after world in his efforts to cow the local governments into surrender. Makem Te, Tion, and now Feriae Junction had found themselves the victims of this great genocide. Worlds turned to nothing more than burnt monuments to the dead, now left to die in the cold expanse of space as the Sith moved on to kill others.

In his absence, the Dark Council has taken the initiative to finalize the last stages of their war on the Galactic Alliance. Taeli Raaf, Gerwald Lechner, and Malum Marr each their own powerful entity in the Order, took the reins of the Emperor’s conquests and began to march. Their first goal, one of the greatest trade centers in the galaxy - a route connecting multiple massive hyperlanes trailing the entire galaxy.

With its conquest, the Sith would hold a veritable bounty to help stabilize their ramping economy, and in turn, allow for even greater production of their military-industrial complex. A second legion has been prepared by the Guilds and Ministries, they only need the funds and industrial capacity to begin.

The fall of Sullust will fuel this new army.


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In fear of the approaching Sith War Machine, and the unbridled greed of Core Capitalists, the World-Nation of Sullust has spent years pushing its industries and capacity to its limits. Magma lurches in the depths of factory canyons, fed by the geothermal energy readily available to the world's inhabitants. There has never been a time where the world's output has been matched - but it has come at a cost.

The pressures of higher metrics, quotas, and the mass expansion of industry for the world's defences have proven too much for the billion and more people of Sullust. A trade union, named after its ancient ancestor and inspiration, has begun to draw the workers to their cause. Known as the Cobalt Laborers' Reformation Front, it strives to overturn the harsh and exhaustive production the people of Sullust have been subjected to.

With their economy redlined, and the struggle between their lower and upper strata coming to a head, the Tsis'kaar under the Guidance of the newly appointed Dark Councillor Darth Malum has begun to radicalize their movement further. Where once it was simply an economic debate about injustices of working conditions, has slowly transformed into a dangerous engagement between protestors and local security forces.

In Pinyumb, thereupon a great protest has begun. Anger and tension fill the crowds as security forces begin to corral them in. A single match could spark this protest into a riot, and a riot is only a few bloody moments away from a coup. Let the people of Sullust do our work for us. Start the flame of revolution, and then crush it under our foot.


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Under the orders of the newly appointed Dark Councilor Taeli Raaf, Tshinral III has been marked for collection. Its ancient space station is a reservoir of old research, carefully collected and organized to understand how a planet could be destroyed through ecological disaster designed by man's hand. The grave world below is a testament to its efficiency - whose green clouds spin and swirl with tepid death.

However, after the Sith's arrival on Bpfassh, local worlds were alerted to what was to come. The station has been claimed by anonymous special forces, backed by researchers and stealth ships hidden from our sensors. If they are allowed to leave, terrorist cells may bring this technology to bear against our worlds. If allowed to do so, the consequences could be disastrous.

Blockade the planet, destroy the would-be pillagers, and find out where they intended to take that information back to. Anyone who has found this station may have already gotten word back elsewhere - and we can not allow this to spread.


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There upon three hyperlanes intertwine, and one of the most important crossroads in the galaxy has fallen to the Sith - or soon shall. War machines march on the outlying planets, and entire nations and worlds fall in line as we prepare our front for what is to come. In the coming weeks, the Sith Order's legions will be on the border of the Galactic Alliance, and thus our greatest conflict to date will begin.

Our fleets begin to gather at a mustering point outside the known systems - carefully placed to allow the shortest route into Qat Chrystac and Ootoola's space. These worlds, bordering the Galactic Alliance, form the doorstep of the Jedi's bulwark. They beg and plead with the Senate for help, only to be ignored as the Alliances face a threat both within and without in the form of the Dark Empire.

As the ships of various lords arrive, a meeting is held where the Emperor watches from his great distance away. A war plan must be created for these worlds, and by extension, our opening volley against the alliance. We attack their underbelly, but they are not to be underestimated - put your strength forward, and decide how we will cut.

 
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Drazen hadn’t brought a Star Destroyer, his brother had refused him that honor, and his deal with Taeli Raaf had not yet been followed through with. Terminus would be his, that much was guaranteed, but for now he would travel in the specialized and militarized option best suited for such a high value individual such as he - a luxury yacht owned by the Lutris family. It would dock with little fanfare, but his servants, each a genetically perfected individual as they should be, ensured his path was always gilded.​
When he entered the council chambers, the various seats surrounded a holo projector in the center of the room - to give all a clear view of what was being discussed. The lowest level, closest to the projector, was held by the Dark Council who had appeared. Each level above that was for the rest - and with a quick glance about, Drazen could see that they had split by political alignment.​
The Eternalists formed a bloc with the Sepulchral Priests close in tow. Drazen had always been curious how the Sepulchral whispers had poisoned the Sith in the Order, he wondered just how much they were involved in their scheming. For the sake of impressions, he made his way over to them and found a seat. Some offered him a nod, others a smile, but many more simply glared.​
It was the way of Sith gatherings, he had learned. When everyone found power in individualism, it was ever so common to find you hated everyone else around you for challenging your freedom. And what was freedom if someone else didn’t lack it? Nothing interesting, that’s what. So they plotted and schemed even now to rip everyone else's cherished freedom from them, by weapon or by word, it didn’t matter.​
Well, I think it’s about time we got this show on the road.”, he mused.​

 
Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge

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Objective: Eleventh Hour
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Robes
Tags: Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris

The time had finally come. The hour finally drew near.

Decades of waiting, of scheming, of minor clashes and battles that did nothing but fuel the burning fire within, until finally they were here. On the border of the great Galactic Alliance, with a fleet assembled and at the ready to bring death and destruction to their worlds. For years Darth Strosius had waited so very patiently to bring down the wrath of the Sith upon the Jedi and their precious Alliance. To make them pay for the worlds of the Sith Empire that they had left in ruin so many years ago.

He had waited far too long, but it was better late than never he supposed. While normally the Inquisition only ever deployed in small groups or task forces at a time, the Lord Inquisitor had brought a proper invasion fleet for this gathering. For some it might been seen as a display of force, for others they might say that it was as though the Inquisition sought to begin the opening campaign against the Alliance all by themselves, but for the Inquisition themselves the answer was much simpler. Darth Strosius had called for vengeance, for blood and fire, to bring ruin and death to the worlds of the Alliance as they had to the Sith in years past. And the Inquisition had answered.

Darth Strosius would arrive at the meeting with his usual flair and presence, his heavy flowing robes and his gleaming dark armor all complimenting the mask that served as his visage. Yet for once there was no glances of malice towards his fellow Sith, no glares or half-muttered snarky comments, not even a declaration of arrest against another member at the meeting for one reason or another. Instead his shoulders were set and his gaze lingered on one direction as he took his seat.

Forward. Towards the Core.

 
Relationship Status: It's Complicated
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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris

A new war loomed over the Sith Order, but the worlds which they moved on were not new, not for Gerwald. There was a time when the planets were free under the banner of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. The campaign to secure them had been what made the wolf stand out above the rest as the replacement for the Knights Obsidian. It had seemed as though Gerwald had just ascended to the height of his former order, and yet time reminded him it had been a completely different reality.

The ring he once wore around his neck was no longer there. Naedira Darcrath Naedira Darcrath was alive, a version of her. While the others sat, waiting for the rest to arrive, Gerwald looked out the viewport toward Naalol. The closer they moved to that world, the more Gerwald was reminded how little had really changed in the galaxy. It was true, nothing was new under the sun, and nothing made it more concrete than the fact the Sith Order was walking familiar ground.

A voice pulled Gerwald away from the transparasteel. It was the brother of Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean . Gerwald did not trust him. He did not like him, but the wolf kept that thought to himself. For now he was an ally, even if the relationship was a reluctant one on the side of the wolf. He had needed the backing of the assembly for his Dark Council position, and Drazen had needed an executioner. Their interests aligned for a season.

He had mused something to himself, a thought Gerwald’s heightened hearing allowed him to hear. It had taken time to learn the difference between what he was meant to listen to versus what he happened upon. It allowed the wolf to know things he was not otherwise supposed to know. This was nothing.

The wolf took his seat, his eyes catching the man and giving him a nod. It appeared Darth Strosius Darth Strosius was also in attendance. He had become the epitome of what it meant to overplay a good hand. While this meeting was meant to discuss their advancement into Alliance space, the Dark Council, Gerwald, was doing what he could to ensure the Sith Order was not plunged into civil war once again.

Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf and Darth Strosius were determined to burn worlds with the Sith Order. This was not the time to be turning on each other, but rather moving forward against a common enemy.

“The Galactic Alliance is moving closer, as we are moving toward it. The Jedi have shown they are willing to kill Sith on sight. Their sword made it possible for the Worm to be freed. We are about to control a major juncture in space travel and trade. The Riamma Trade Route goes right to the heart of the Galactic Alliance, and will take us straight to Fondor. In the meantime, we must choke the life out of it. Strangle their economy, and make Fondor feel it.”

 
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"Gamma leader to Gamma squadron, all sensors clear at Nav Point Aurek. Proceed to Nav Point Besh! Eyes open for ion engine traces and com interferences. Enemy has stealth ship. Do not engage verified bogeys. Send readings to the capital ship. Let the cape wearing degenerates play with them."

A boring job, playing reconnaissance for her lazy individualistic brethren of the Sith. These idiots knew nothing about the agonizing routine in the vastness of space even with the fast interceptors and an acceleration of over 4500 G.
Lord Tooka had wisely brought her own carrier as mobile home base this time, parked secure in deep space, easy to reach with the limited hyperdrive of the interceptors of her squads. Never again she would be dependent on idiots on destroyers like in the battle against the Mandalorian!

She lost too many men and women to the incompetence of the cape wearing buffoons who could only bombard planets, only because these could not evade their attacks.

The Rimma Route! These idiots are trying to threaten the GA at the main trade hyperlane! As they should know, the capitalists would only shrug at anything, but a threat to their money.
There were rumors of new stealth ships of the GA. Horror stories and sailor's yarn many thought.
Lord Tooka was very tempted to ignore attacking stealth ships, just out of spite against the leading maniacs with capes and more medals at their uniform as a Mandalorian has bescar plates.

But it was just a boring patrol. No ghost readings, no cloaked ships. Just the silent vastness of space, her squadron was trespassing.

Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner Seela Leini Seela Leini
 
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"Is the artifact ready?"

Director Tevv gazed down at the sprawling industrial fortress below with weary half-blind eyes. Loyalist guards flanked the once powerful magnate whose fealty to SoroSuub could not be questioned. The Suarbi system's fall caused shockwaves to ripple through surrounding sectors. Now Sullust's Home Guard was the territories' last line of defense.

"We are out of time," he declared cutting off any forthcoming answer, "Take me to it."

Miel stepped into a turbolift which descended into the bowels of SoroSuub's experimental research sector. He would activate the relic himself. Old collaborationist elements which had once thrived under the First Order's occupation sensed new opportunity. Infighting paralyzed the megacorp's ability to manage their own labor force.

Biometric scans allowed the Director access to the Centroplex's most sensitive tech vaults. Sullustan researchers in white lab coats paused from their work to bow as Miel passed. Heavy bulkheads wheezed open revealing what the executive sought. Trembling hands grazed metal which still bore scorch marks. Lost for a time...but never forgotten.

Before him the remains of a Jedi Temple distress beacon was covered in transmission wires. The most brilliant minds in his employ had jury rigged a connection to one of their largest hyperwave transmitters. He flipped a switch which had not been touched in over half a century. An emergency broadcast began on every known Jedi frequency.

"They are our only hope now."
 
The Sullust Home Guard kept Jedi Wayseeker Coren Starchaser in the know. There was still the remains of the Jedi Training Ground for Sentinels that Omai Rhen had kept moving until his death and Starchaser kept visiting and in line while he was doing other work in the Outer Rim. He'd been living in the warmer Colonies, at Kattada, by all public notice, but was all around the galaxy, especially in the old ORC worlds, and the old Levant spaces.

Calls from Cuan Kunn Cuan Kunn had gotten out to him, and the old Tiburon was out flying Cutlass fighters in the defense of the world, from pirates, and the Sith. They were in the suburbs of the magma world.

Coren had his freighter, the YT-2000 Tachyon Rising just finishing up an escort of several new ExplorCorp pilots. His freighter was much more a personal shuttle and exploration vessel, with the soul of a gunship, than it ever really was a freighter, but it still had the look. As he was about to plot the jump back to the Dawn Chaser, that was when Porter wheeled in and alerted Coren, with no real second guessing, that a call had come in.

A call from Sullust.

Coren immediately changed his gears and leapt into lightspeed.

Miel Tevv Miel Tevv
 
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"Too vague.", Drazen said with a dismissive wave of his hand at the Dark Councilor - a sign of disrespect to someone so high.​
He adjusted in his seat for a moment before someone behind him leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Lutris has formed a contingent of Sith in the Empire that aligned with his goals - and only now had it become obvious that he sat with a group of them even now. Various bureaucrats from across the Order, some as high as Governors of mining and industrial worlds. Drazen leaned to the side and listened before nodding and motioning him to return to his seat.​
"I agree with your plan, Gerwald, I do. The issue is we need a plan, not the hint of a plan. My recommendation? The Terminus Shipyards have been working tirelessly to form the Legion Secondus. While the First Legion moves against the Lost Imperials and the Mandalorians, domestically we need to establish a new Imperator - rightfully, it should be me.", he beamed.​
"Were I given the support of this war council, and the assembly, I would push the Second Legion up the Rimma Trade Route as your say - but my focus would be on a lightning assault. Of course the Alliance and the Jedi push in on us, but do you know how we beat them? Deep cover operations, forward recon, and privateers deep in their worlds. We cut off their border worlds with constant merchant harassing near Yag'Dhul, we would effectively isolate their infrastructure making our assault all the more effective.", he continued, motioning to the galactic plane as a few spot lit up - operation theaters already set up by him before hand.​
"The Inquisition has brought forward a great force, that isn't in question.", Drazen said with a turn towards Alisteri. "The problem is that the Inquisition doesn't know the first thing about expansionary war. They've never done it! They shouldn't even try.", he said with a motion towards the Grand Inquisitor like he was desperate to prove he was incompetent.​
"Instead, I'd ask your great force, Grand Inquisitor, to solidify our control over the worlds we leave behind. The Second Legion will break them, but it must move quickly. The Inquisition should be our force to solidify our control and drive Jedi and Alliance remnants from the worlds we conquer. Anything short of an immediate and violent drive towards Fondor will leave the Alliance time to build up bulwarks along the hyperlane."​

 
Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge

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Objective: Eleventh Hour
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Robes
Tags: Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris / Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner

The masked man, for once, listened first rather than spoke as the Dark Councilor and Empyrean's kin opened up the discussion of how to proceed with an exchange. He scoffed at Drazen's dismissal and assumption of the tactics that they would use to assault the Alliance. His gathered little group of sycophants had clearly inflated his already bursting ego even more if he thought that he could dictate strategy. When Drazen's attention and remarks then shifted to himself and his Inquisition however, his hidden stare narrowed in disgust.

"I'm sorry, but I must have misheard you..." Darth Strosius leaned forward as he rose from his seat, a clawed gauntlet resting on the edge of his balcony as he leered over at the Lord of Terminus. "Perhaps it's that silver spoon in your throat making your ramblings even more incoherent today, but I do believe I just heard you attempt to give me orders? And do regale us all Lord Lutris, how many wars have you fought in?" His claws dug into the balcony railing as he cocked his head to the side.

"Because I don't recall having seen your groveling, miserable little hide on any battlefields before. Myself and my Holy Inquisition however assisted in the reclamation of our Holy Worlds and have even fought against the Imperials that sought to remove our presence there. Not to mention the eternal war against insidious and traitorous internal threats that would seek to undermine all that we have built and restored." The masked man took in a breath and stood up straighter, no longer hunched over the railing and spitting out his venomous words. "Your resolve and soldiers would crumble under such a quick and brutal advance. We need experienced and hardy soldiers under competent leadership for such a task, not the likes of you. If there is to be a Second Legion then you shall have no seat at the head of it if I have anything to say about it."

Finally the Lord Inquisitor shifted his gaze back to the Dark Councilor, holding up a hand as though in some reconciliation. "One swift strike could work, but to do so would cost us greatly and unexpected resistance could be met along the way that would make the whole campaign worthless. My Inquisition and I can lead a force to cut a swathe through the Corellian Trade Spine and spread the Alliance forces along multiple fronts. With our specialization in urban warfare and populace pacification we can take entire worlds hostage and force them to act to reclaim them. Then we can blaze our way along the Rimma Trade Route and cleave their responding forces in half." A bold move but one that he was clearly very confident in.

"The way to Fondor would lie open and their fleets would be divided into pockets which could be easily surrounded and destroyed. We can use their own expansive borders against them, trapping their fleets with interdiction fields and patrols of our own. They'll have no chance of escape and no option but to throw themselves against our blockades." His claws clenched into a fist to punctuate his statement, his mind already swimming with images of burning Core and Mid-Rim worlds. A just and fitting fate for those that dared to destroy the last Sith Empire. "In addition we can send in Sith strike teams to attack Jedi temples and academies, to further divide their attention. They will act to protect their youth and knowledge, we require neither from them so simple destruction will serve us well."

 
Objective 1: Midnight Oil

It was with cautious steps that one, Mothas Ruim entered the side-alley street, the rain petering down on him, accompanied by two muscled giants of men, the deluge of water enough to wash away the roads of the bloodletting of days past... and the corpses that had been left as constant memory of what had occurred.

The rain itself was rather ironic, its cool moisture was far from appropriate at describing the boiling point at which the planet had found itself.

Deaths along Sullust's streets were nothing new, such was the way of large industrial planets, one never knew who held a dagger at their back, ready to gain some ill-found bounty.

More likely it was to be caused by exhaustion, one too many days in the refineries and forges, there were stories of those that came back and fell onto their bed.

And never woke up.

Even more likely it was to the accidents, working near lava was far from the safest activity, throwing on the coal fumes and how difficult breathing on the planet was outside of its subterranean walls...

Death was too common here.

Yet it was a new type of death that found itself at Sullust of late, street battles between workers and the security forces. Laughably one-sided at times, yet in recent days it had been the workers that had the better of it. The reasoning for those street battles was wide and complex, yet to some, they could all be laid upon the feet of one man.

The short cloaked figure of Mothas Ruim, the leader of the Cobalt Labours' Reform Front, who had simultaneously become the most famous and most infamous Sullustan on the planet, pulled over the hood over his inky depths, the rain beginning to invade past his apparel despite his best attempts.

As for why the workers were beginning to win...

The Sullustan with his two guards following behind, finally breathed in relief, as he pulled open a door, and a roaring fire greeted him, the heat threatening to overwhelm him, if he did not work alongside much more dangerous fires every single day. He could only appreciate it now, as his clothing began to dry already, as his form began to cease their unconscious shivers.

Yet he could not fully relax.

For sitting in front of him.

A masked figure, in dark robes, not moving an inch, seeming to not even breathe.


"You're late." Said figure idly noted.

Said figure who represented the very reason that events on Sullust had spiralled so out of control, the Sith Empire which many had once thought defeated, who even when unveiled all thought a concern far from their mind, had finally come.

And Sullust would burn if the right actions were not made in the coming days.

The Sullustan parsed his lips, bringing his hood down, and taking the seat opposite the Sith, as he resisted the shivers that rose in him for a very different reason than the one previous. His guards did a little better, clearly concerned, only hesitantly taking up position behind the seat.


"The foreman is an annoying bastard, they are too scared to kill me right now with how much a ruckus that'd cause, but they keep their eyes on me as much as they can," Mothas answered as a way of explanation, he frankly did not believe he owed the monster in front of him an explanation, but it would be far from his interest to piss one off.

The Sith seemed to accept the explanation, slowly nodding his head, from what he had heard of Sith, it was far better a reaction than Mothas thought he would have gotten.


"...I imagine you are pleased with the quality of the weapons we have provided you? The Tsis'Kaar I had assisting report to me you have had your first victories... congratulations are in order." The clear voice of the masked lord continued, with perhaps a hint of... joy... delight? It was difficult to say. All the while, he reached to his side, and though Mothas froze, he let out another sigh, as a bottle of prime brandy was brought out, glasses unveiled, and two drinks poured.

"...Your men and the weapons gave the foreman's men a hollering, we might actually be able to win after all..." Mothas answered, reaching for the glass, swirling it around the rim, and taking a sip, only to blink, gazing down, and then looking to the bottle... one of his favourites... "How did you know...?"

Though the mask remained unchanged, it seemed somehow that it was smirking at him, "The same way I know you prefer venison to steak, leeks to potatoes, cigars to cigarettes," The Sith reached down to grasp his own cup, Mothas leaning forward as subtly as he could, would this be the moment he would see his mysterious benefactors face?

Only to be left disappointed, as tipped down the mask's lips, it seemed to reach his throat just fine, before the Sith looked at it, considering,
"The same way I know you prefer brandy to beer... not that I blame you, beer truly is awful, is it not?"

Despite everything, Mothas cracked a smile at that.

"Aye... but its cheap enough that the lads like it, we don't have many options when we want the day to go away," Mothas was of the privileged few, who though a worker like those who he represented, had the opportunity to experience the richer aspects of life, though... the humans... or at least he assumed he was human's explanation was far from comforting, "...The Seesh'Car?" Mothas questioned, butchering the pronunciation, as the word stuck out.

"The..." The masked man seemed to consider how to explain, perhaps even considering if he should explain at all, "...Tsis'kaar, The foreign intelligence wing of the Sith Empire, we are the ones that fan out across the galaxy to find information of worth for our Emperor, or neutralise any threats from the outside."

Mothas drank it all in, much of it flew over his head, and he was surprised he would be told any of it at all, yet... the Sith in front of him had already surprised him much in each of their prior encounters...

...Maybe he should no longer be shocked.


"...What is the next step?"

The Sith tilted his head, almost as if he had intended to ask that question first.

"...The Imperial forces shall be arriving in the coming days, I would rather see this world join the Empire willingly, rather than go through the tribulations of invasion... if your workers are able to overthrow the capitalists, I will use my influence to make you governor here, you will be able to bring about the conditions you desire, and Sullust will be brought peacefully into the empire."

Mothas' eyes widened as he was pulled back into his seat, his mind rapidly running through the possibilities, the ideas, all which he could do if he was given what he was offered... yet there too were the doubts, he had accidentally found himself the leader of a trade union, to expand that to become accidentally leader of the whole world? He had only once wished to bring about justice for working conditions... to overthrow everything though...?

Then of course the concern, most paramount of them all.

To become as puppet of the Sith? As odd as this one was, there was no guarantee that the rest were not as bloodthirsty as the stories said they were.

Then of course the largest doubt.


"...And how will I know you will not abandon us, where will be your... Tsis'Kaar, when the fighting begins?"

The Sith seemed taken aback a moment, tilting his head back into position, before reaching into his side, and pulling out a dark blade that seemed to be made of glass.

"...This is my most prized possession, they call it a Shikkar blade, it is one of the greatest representations of the Tsis'Kaar... I want you to have it, to be returned once we are victorious... my Tsis'Kaar shall deploy and join you in this fight, more weapon shipments have already been delivered, to be distributed by you..." The masked Sith stood, offering the blade to Mothas, as suddenly around them, more and more masked individuals began to appear, standing, stalwart, upright, and creepily silent, "Together... let us bring about a revolution."

Mothas... was no fool, to trust this man would find himself and all his left dead in a ditch at some point... yet Mothas also knew there was little option, this Sith had aided them when no one else had, for his own reasons or not. And Mothas... knew that though he might lead his people, they were reaching a boiling point in which nothing good may come about if they did not have some sort of plan.

...And if the Sith were coming, they needed a plan.

If this Sith, who seemed so far removed from what he thought Sith were, could provide that... provide his people what they needed to survive this...

...It may very well be his only option.

All but one thing.


"...What's your name?"

The question netted silence for a moment.

The Sith Lord looked down to the Shikkar blade, before mask gazed back.


"Darth Malum."

Mothas took the blade.




Atop a great rooftop, among his own men, a dark robed figure gazed down, at a gigantic crowd below. They held up signs, they chanted catchy slogans, and the mood, the emotion, was palpable even from this distance, at the outskirts, security attempted to hold back the shoving crowd, yet for now, apart from some bruises, despite the murders and battles of days past.

Peace was maintained.

At the centre of the crowd stood Mothas.

Using the power which he had been gifted with, yet which he held such doubts of.

He spoke to the people, he spoke great words, he spoke great promises.

He held great promise.

And the people, the workers, even the security, could see that, as his words echoed along the pavilion, once enemies were even brought to listen, even as they were meant to battle.


"He knows how to rally the heart of men," The masked lord noted, to the nod of the man standing beside him, "As you say, Imperator."

The Lord of the Tsis'Kaar chuckled at that, because he was meant to chuckle at that.

The speech neared its tipping point, Mothas' reaching his hands high into the air, as the drumming of feet could be felt even to the high rise above. The people's liberation was near, and he invited those who served the continuously unpopular current regime to join his side.

It was smart.

The masked lord knew, after all, it had been the Tsis'Kaar that had infiltrated among the workers and pushed to elevate him to the very top.

It had been a subtle and long process.

Yet its dividends played out below.

The workers on the very outskirts of the crowd, began to push against the barricades, being brought to a frenzy as the simmering fire within them all reached a boiling point.

They only needed the spark.

The Emperor of Alvaria gazed down at his hand, a Shikkar blade placed prominently...
"If only... in another life... in another time..." He gazed out to where Mothas stood, his entire body shaking, he had worked himself into such a rabid rage, as the glass of the Shikkar shattered, raining down below.


"...You will achieve in death, what you never could in life." Masked lips promised, a nod of the head.

And a shot fired out, silence coming over the air for but a moment, as all wondered what had just happened.

And then the crowd screamed.

Sorrow.

Then rage.

The barricades fell quickly.

The planet promised to fall just as swiftly.
 
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Repulsorlift thrusters gusted enough wind to ripple Director Tevv's business robes. He bowed his head as the SoroSuub delegation waited for the YT model freighter to complete its landing sequence. The crown of office he wore felt heavy on his bare scalp. Events had spiraled even further during the late hours since they activated the fallen temple's distress beacon and now he feared even Jedi diplomacy would no longer be enough to maintain order.

"Greetings, Master Starchaser."

Miel bowed before the legendary Jedi. As one, the honor guard of corporate security echoed his gesture. Around them all a designated landing pad slowly descended into tunnels safe from the toxic surface above.

"I fear you arrive at a most desperate hour," the sullustan technocrat frowned in despair, "We would have sought Jedi aid earlier, but this conflict is waged from shadow. Our own people rise up against us. Greed has always been our weakness, ambitions exploited by collaborators to manufacture open revolt. We did not see the signs."

Of course, many of the grievances against SoroSuub were legitimate. Trade League remnants looked to Sullust now that the Home Guard stood alone against encroaching Sith influence over outer rim hyperlanes. They had taken heavy losses at the Battle for Suarbi and increased production quotas to make up for such destruction while necessary verged on draconian.

With a snap of his fingers, an aide placed a rifle in Tevv's hands.

"It is a convincing forgery," he inspected the weapon before tossing it at Coren's feet, "But these blasters were not smelted in any SoroSuub foundry. I cannot in good conscience ask you to take up arms against frightened civilians, but someone is arming them. Seek out this agent, strike them down and we may yet avert a disaster."

Perhaps Coren knew some old Underground contacts who could help delay these riots from spreading across the planet but until they neutralized the masterminds Sullust remained vulnerable.
 
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Objective 3: Eleventh Hour

"My Lord Lutris, I advise patience, announce yourself a threat, and you will make yourself a target of their scorn," A voice, leaning forward to whisper into Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris ' ear spoke, a voice connected to a body that moments before, did not even seem to have been there in the first place, "Please, allow me to take their attention." A far more familiar voice continued on, where once subordinate, now seemed to have an even hint of levity, as to the surprise of those surrounding, through red smoke, arose a Dark Councillor.

Sitting amongst the Eternalist column, the Lord of the Tsis'Kaar revealed himself.


"Apologies for my lateness, lords and ladies, rest assured I have heard all, alas, though this is the war room, the war still very much takes place outside of it," The masked lord emerged out of the gathering which he had placed himself, allowing eyes and voices to follow him, as he made himself down to the lower levels, offering a nod of regard towards his fellow Dark Councillor, Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner , noting that it seemed that Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf had not joined them.

Either she was absent, or she had her own dramatic entrance to make.

He turned back, gazing up at all those assembled before them, among the greatest Sith in the empire, or at least what could be gathered of them, others would be fighting along the Tingel Arm, or were currently on the frontlines, still, they had to work with what they were given... and in this instance, who, they were given.


"The great and newest Battle of Coruscant is at an end, and it remains to be seen if the so-called Dark Empire shall collapse for it, still, suffice to say it is clear that the Galactic Alliance if at all weakened by the battles in the Core, remains an ever disciplined, organised, and veteran foe, a long war awaits us..." His gaze looked towards Lord Lutris, with the absence of Lord Blepharon from these proceedings, he seemed to have taken a key interest in matters of the economy, "...And even with the reorganisation of the Sith Imperial Banking Clan, the arrival of new and renewed tribute from the Tingel Arm through Hypergate Florrum, and the annexation and integration of new worlds into the Empire, it is far from clear if our state can survive a long war."

It was far from a popular admission, yet with only murmurs breaking out thus far, and the key silence from figures of the Tsis'Kaar bloc, all it took was the masked lord's hand to raise, for voices to... be compromisingly silenced.

"Unfortunate, as it is gentlemen, I think despite the angered words, apart from personal ambitions, and constructive additions, in my eyes, it does not seem at all that you have any reason to be wroth at each other, which is why I support much of it... and fortunately," The masked lord vaguely pointed towards the galactic north, "The time for personal bickering is at an end, the Alliance and the Jedi have entered the Mid Rim. No doubt learning from when the Moridinizids were able to strike so far and deep into their territory, they intend to fight the war here, such that their rich lives in the Core are not... well... anymore interrupted than they already have been."


It was a powerful image that he had almost accidentally cultivated for himself, the heir of Darth Marr, wearing a replica of his famed mask, having taken a seat upon the Dark Council, standing before these assembled... to defend the empire.

Near four thousand years, nothing had changed.

The cycle continued.

Would it play again in another four thousand years?


"It is their mistake to be made, and we shan't interrupt it, rather than consolidating their positions in the Expansion Region and Inner Rim, they have advanced, even as they fight wars on multiple fronts, they bring into their democracy more and more systems unsuited to their ideals, all the while, their forces are spread out securing and defending worlds they can ill-afford to." A gloved hand came forward, counting one by one, "Woostri, Qat Chrystac, Ootoola, Nkllon, Alluuvia, Kriselist, Noe'ha'on, and Har Binade, and that is this period alone."

The wind billowed through his cloak, as he made movements across the plain, with his arms following suit, putting into employment all the lessons he had been given of rhetoric and oration, "Strike hard, strike fast, strike deeply, we exploit the momentary weakness of the Alliance in spreading their forces, and still fighting their war in the Core, overrun the Expansion Region, with our goal to be of course, Fondor, showing them that though they secured their capital from heretics, they only allowed us the opportunity to take it ourselves, but of more importance, Hypergate Mechis, which will feed any growing advance." Fondor was, though in his mind far from truly significant if the Alliance could simply move their capital from Coruscant to Fondor with little concern... it was unfortunately the planet which held the mind of the Sith assembled at the present moment... the Hypergate would be the true prize.

...Which of course was why it concerned him that the Strategic Intelligence Agency had begun to dig around there.


"...Yet truly, it must be said that there are good odds that we shall not be able to advance as far as we would like. It is a possibility we must consider even if Legio Primis is held here, even if Legio Secundus was complete, even if the Inquisition joins the frontlines, and even if the Kainite forces joined us, the Alliance remains the greatest power in the galaxy for a reason, they might be one of the few states that could truly win a multiple front war." Now that truly was a controversial statement, one which his hand alone might not be able dispel, such that before outrage could be raised, he was already speeding himself forward, "We must fortify every system, every planet we take, though we can exploit a momentary weakness, the Alliance will counterattack, and it is in the counterattack that our victory must come... we must make them bleed, for every inch that they take, trying to break into core Sith space, the Alliance's weakness is not the size of their military, such will dwarf ourselves no matter what.

It is the very key fact that it can ill-afford to lose it, imagine if they might be able to conscript the Core populations for their war, we might not have any chance, yet they cannot, their democracy is unwieldy, and throw in disastrous casualty figures, and their... Senate,"
Malum sneered at the word, "Shall develop cold feet, a veritable peace party may form, confusing things ever more as the cost of the war skyrockets." It was what Malum had long ago realised, to defeat the Alliance conventionally, what the Dark Empire tried to do, was a gamble that had already failed, but to exploit the very things which the Alliance saw as strength?


"We must bait them into attack after attack, only to repel them with ever grievous loss of life... yet it is not only their military that must bleed, all of the Alliance must bleed, all of it must be shown the consequences of continuing to wage this war," Malum turned to face Ali- Darth Strosius Darth Strosius ... they had not spoken in quite awhile...

"The purpose of war is to remain alive, all else is secondary, and the most effective way to wage war is as brutally as possible, the Tsis'Kaar will offer as much aid as we can in this endeavour, but we cannot simply fight along the frontlines in long grinding manoeuvres that will destroy our strength as much as theirs. Fleets, and armies, must strike as deep as they can, all across the Alliance, we must show this vast empire to the north that no part of it is safe from our hand, that this war that they continue to fight will lead to their homes burned to the ground, their families butchered, left hope or will to go on," His voice grew darker, by the end his voice was louder and louder, emotion burning at the back of his throat, and through his eyes, burning so hot that it seemed as if even the mask could not hide it, "To defeat the Alliance is not to defeat their armies on the field, or their fleets in the sky, to defeat the Alliance is to defeat their democracy, to defeat the Alliance to defeat their people, to defeat the Alliance... we defeat their will to fight."
 
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"How many wars have you actually won, Inquisitor?", Drazen asked after a moment, leaning back and crossing his legs.​
"I offer you exactly what you are best at - containing unruly worlds on the edge of our control, and you spit in my face. Last I checked, you lost the war against the Imperials, lost the War against the Maw, lost the war against the Jedi, and lost the war against my brother.", he said as he counted each loss off on a finger until only one remained.​
"I could, of course, serve you your last war lost - if you'd like.", he said with a grin, waving his last standing finger at Alisteri. It was the exact finger one would associate with rudeness. A few in his crowd laughed at this.​
When the whisper came, Drazen swatted it away like a misquto, annoyed anything would be so close to him. He didn't need someone to take the attention away from him, that was half the point of him insulting them to their face - so they could face their powerlessness. How else would he remind them that his brother protected him, if not by insulting them constantly? At least that way, maybe his brother would finally support his machinations instead of religate him to the side.​
"Dark Councilor, if your expectation is that our military meet the Galactic Alliance blow for blow, regardless if you intend to not lose ourselves to attrition, I think you'll find that their grit is ever more course than ours. They have more ships, more men, and more resources - even allowing them to build strength to counterattack could be disasterous if we lost. Do you really want to gamble with our Empire's future, instead of fighting them before they collect themselves?"​

 
This was homecoming. Not in the best ways but a homecoming nonetheless. Greeted in orbit by a squadron calling themselves the Tiburons and flying Cutlass fighters, Master Starchaser, sometimes General Starchaser, was escorted to the planet below through any lapse in the fleet. A freighter and his fighters. As he landed, he stepped from the ship with his astromech in tow, looking every bit of a weathered man, but every bit of a leader of the Outer Rim wars. Blaster on one hip. Lightsaber on the other.

Alliance. Underground. Outer Planets.

He offered a nod and a handshake to Miel as he stepped out of his ship. A Cutlass landing and providing another escort. A known escort.

"Shadows are where we had to learn to fight I'm afraid. All those years ago. The feeling of the world is off." Coren nodded and looked between Miel and Cuan. "It happens. Another government coming calling makes for a challenge. Do we know of any loyalists? In the Home Guard? The Underground?"

<<We have a few squads of soldiers ready to fight. And the remnants of the Tiburons that greeted you in orbit.>> Ten starfighters and what soldiers they had.

"Forged weapons. A false flag? That seems almost reminiscent of the Underground." As the weapon was tossed at his feet, the Corellian freedom fighter signalled for his astromech to scan the weapon.

"Do we have loyalists we need to evacuate? I can get ships here for that. Meanwhile I can…" At this moment Cuan stepped forward.

<<The Deep Hounds have arrived.>> Cuan indicated a team of Sullustans dressed in Home Guard uniforms but had Underground signets on their shoulders.

<<There has been a change. The riots are growing.>> Said the Captain. <<We can take you through the tunnels to the fighting.>>

Coren nodded and turned to Miel. "Do what you can. And get to safety. The Sith have come to the Rim."

Miel Tevv Miel Tevv Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
 




Midnight-Oil.png


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The revolution was igniting quickly. The Cobalt Laborer's Reformation Front was gathering en masse. The situation was growing more intense, but the presence of Sith starships above was a presumably welcome sight for some, terrifying for others. However, for one particular person this was expected. Planned, even.

"It's just as Mother anticipated. The Sith's hunger for conquest lead them right here. Now to get their attention."

Among the crowd of protestors, a lone witch walked through. As she moved, her hands would gracefully touch hands of several protestors. The touch was so light that no one could tell what happened. She whispered words beneath her breath, planting an enchantment upon those she touched. It's purpose would be revealed later.

For now, she lifted her black veiled hood onto her head and walked towards a factory that had been largely abandoned since the start of the protests. She walked through the corridors, no sound but the distant uproar and her bare feet hitting the ground. Eventually, she would find herself in the main foundry area. It was entirely empty. Not a soul but that of the witch.

"This is as good a spot as any. I hope this works."

She pulled a small pouch from beneath her robes. Inside was a black sand. She poured the contents out into a small pile before her. She reached out with her hands, summoning the Force and pushing the sand into an array of runes formed in a circle around her. There, she sat. She sat and waited for the time to be right.

 

Trayze Tesar

Well-Known Member
OBJECTIVE 1: MIDNIGHT OIL

CURRENT MISSION - POLICE THE RIOT
Immediate Goals -
1: Ensure the safe return and survival of Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr , Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Elise Ahana-Gwyneira and Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
2: Ensure that the Revolution kills the correct people.
3: ALERT! A JEDI HAS APPEARED ON THE FIELD, BE CAUTIOUS!

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr || Darth Strosius Darth Strosius || Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Elise Ahana-Gwyneira || Affiliated Sith

OPFOR - Miel Tevv Miel Tevv || Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser || Sullustan Counterrevolutionaries

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr || Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Elise Ahana-Gwyneira || Elani Zambrano Elani Zambrano

Martyrdom was only dazzling in the holodramas - as the Sullustan's brained body collapsed onto the floor. Thankfully, the sheer anguish of the crowd served as a means of excising the rather undignified death that the head of the revolution achieved - as well as to mask the myriad of emotions that the Kiffar felt whilst he undertook his grisly work.

Was Mothras Ruim a true visionary, a believer of his own ideals - or was he an opportunist who valued cigarillos over the salvation of his fellow workers? Normally, the answer would be somewhere in the middle - except that is where the corpse of a needed tool now lay. It was ironic, Trayze knew in his bones every action they took would cause a full scale riot - something his schooling as an Imperial Peacekeeper Detective screamed out against. It was strange, being on this side of a protest - stranger still that he managed to find a protest he could get behind; he needed to thank Malum for that later, for the small mercies of doing dirty work for a good cause.

Firstly, he would weave through the crowd, to recover the Shikkar blade that was on Mothas' corpse - no need to leave evidence, but that's when he felt a multitude of things.

Beyond his visible sight, an aged Jedi Master had come to the rescue of the powers that be - showing that in the collapse of the Rimward Trade League, and in spite of the scattering of the Jedi Order and the rise of the so called "Dark Empire" - the Jedi were still gallivanting about the galaxy.

An annoyance that needed to be rectified, and one that would be more agonizing now that Trayze neglected to take a lightsaber since Yavin IV. If pressed, he believed that a lightsaber should be something loyal, something true, something his. Inherited, possibly, earned definitely, shopped for like a bag of CosmoCrisps on Grubbstr? Unthinkable.

But now came the more immediate intrigue, someone of a more mystical bent, and it was this that Trayze followed. The other Tsis'kaar agents would help dispatch the security forces - and there was only one Jedi Master in a field of Sith, and he needed to act quickly to ensure that said Jedi couldn't become something to rally around.

With bold audacity that shielded him in the din of despair, the Shikkar blade was safely pocketed by the Acolyte, and he would move to the now sparsely populated foundry to ensure that whatever witchery that the Sith conducted would be protected - and perhaps observed by an increasingly impatient Trayze.

He needed an honest to Bogan apprenticeship, and he wasn't getting any younger!
 

Objective 1: Midnight oil:
Location: A nearby building, 4th floor.
Goals: Observe for now.
Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar Elani Zambrano Elani Zambrano Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Miel Tevv Miel Tevv

The war being waged her was one done a little more efficiently. By manipulation rather than purely brute strength. It made sense, Elise didn't necessarily think it wrong. But it wasn't a field of expertise she often was as involved in. Not that she never took non-violent routes, there were plenty of cases where she did. They were less work, less cost, and sometimes even less time. But this was spy work, not some kind of negotation, not sabatoging a few critical points to make a building collapse on command so you could scare the enemy into obedience, or distract them while you got away with your prize. It was an orchestrated and semi-artificial uprising.

Her presence here, merely, was to observe for now. Make sure things were going smoothly. If needed, her ships were on call. For now, she'd managed to get a gunship in. Fortunately, this didn't technically mean she was sith. There were others using the GS-77 "Tsrotzhu" Class Multipurpose Gunship. She'd had to rent a good portion of this building she was in, the top floors. That was no problem. It made it all the easier to watch. She wore here armor now, though heavily wrapped up in cloths and leather to hide it's true looks. Just as she was now hiding her presence in the force. She didn't really specialize in the technique, but really, it wasn't too complicated. It would only really be difficult to maintain if asleep or fighting.

She kept an eye out through the shades of her window, her senses greatly enhanced at the moment. As she eyed the crowd below. Ideally, at least for awhile, there'd be no intervention needed. But that was yet to be clear. She kept a weapon on her, something not so blatantly sith as a saber. Just to be sure she could fight if need be. Two actually, a vibro blade, and a disruptor. That should do it. It'd leave her a lot of wiggle room on who she was supposedly supporting.

And so she watched. As one of the revolutionaries died. As things had escalated. She watched as a jedi became a factor. And just waited to see how important he would actually be. Or how important any of these people would be.

Note: Presence in the force is currently reduced to remain hidden.


Personal equipment:
Draika iv misina (Lava lightsaber)
Red lightsaber with sturdy hilt (both sabers are hidden)
Big Iron
tidefall vibroblade
Berserkers Hinderance wrapped heavily in leather and cloth to hide what it really looks like.
Datapad


Accompaniment (off world. Kept on call in a short jumps distance in otherwise empty space.):
shikkar-class-assault-corvette with docked Caedus Class superiority fighter squadron
3 Gunships
 


With the words spoken, far off into the distance alone, a fiery explosion erupted from one of the larger buildings...one owned by the Cobalt Laborers' Reformation Front. Lightning to those who were able to see it quickly, had struck the building and caused a tremendous explosion. No rain...no clouds, just an eruption of the sky itself onto the building itself! The buildings side would start to crumble, fire gushing out from the bottom and the sides of the former windows with several running out of the building.

One lone figure however, slowly walked forward with a revolver in hand, held up in the left hand and an ignited lightsaber in the right hand that glowed a purple hue. Coming out of the fire was a Rattataki, appearing unharmed from the sudden explosion, emotionless with the task that must be carried out. Each step would cause considerable noise, soon stepping on seering hot durasteel metal that came from the building as some armed Sullustans would come to stop the Rattataki. Two loud shots would crack like a bullwhip in the sky, the security falling quickly as those he would have considered brethren, now laid cold beneath his feet.

Stepping onto the streets, some who had been rioting would have almost abruptly stopped to look over the lone figure. With the lightsaber ignited, with the smoking revolver in hand to signify it had long been used. When one turned their blaster onto the Rattataki, another whip like crack would erupt from afar with another Sullustan hitting the ground. The Rattatakis own boots stepping onto the corpse and over him as it become apparent that those in the riot were in worse trouble than they could imagine as finally, a rush of blaster bolts came down onto the unknown figure.

The Fight Has Begun

Tags: Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Miel Tevv Miel Tevv Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar Elani Zambrano Elani Zambrano


 
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"Nav Point Besh reached! No readings on the sensors!"

This mission was easy. A bit boring, but it would be a nice homerun. No enemies, no stealth ships. Easy money!
The intelligence had exaggerated this stealth ship threat. Or it was a smart move of the enemy's counterintelligence to bind critical resources.
The more the empire expanded, fewer ships could patrol all systems.


Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Drazen Lutris Drazen Lutris Gerwald Lechner Gerwald Lechner Seela Leini Seela Leini
 
More than capable of keeping up with the Sullustans underground, Coren Starchaser was making his way behind the Hounds. There was a battle to be stalled. While the Corellian was all for changing a world's lean on the political spectrum, that was against the Empire and their ilk.

As he arrived to the surface again, his compound went off. A message from Cuan. The Tiburons were back in the sky. A call had gone out to the Underground, the Sullustan not knowing whether to trust the Alliance in its current state for aid.

It would come from the revolutionaries. They'd fight the Sith back right and proper.

The leader of this revolution, a Sullustan that the Hounds indicated, lay dead and discarded. The action throwing the gathered to riot. The change would have to come from them.

Coren Starchaser threw the cloak away as he stood in the street. Another Sullustan dead in the street. And another.

It was enough. Coren reached out with the Force, hand lifted, and a blast like a flashback erupted. Light of the Force and the bend in emotions of valor, of bravery.

"Enough." Jedi Master Coren Starchaser said as he lowered his hand. In one a yellow lightsaber blade lit, in the other, a blue-green blade. Atypical but all the Jedi hero he needed.

As the blades became visible, blaster shots from the Underground Sullustans picked out targets of opportunity, with only a few high yield weapons being tossed into the fray, targets carefully picked.

A Jedi had returned to Sullust.

Miel Tevv Miel Tevv
Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr
Elani Zambrano Elani Zambrano
Trayze Tesar Trayze Tesar
Alastor Baxa Alastor Baxa
Elise of House Marr Elise of House Marr
 

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