Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Obtenebration [SO]



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876 ABY
In the historical Odionite Region...
The nebula swayed in the galactic wind, forces eternal and infinite twisting as the collective fleet of the Sith Order moved through brightened abyss. Clouds of hot gas ignited their horizons, giving them a glimpse at the beauty of a galaxy made - and a reminder of what they fight to achieve. Total domination over beauty, strength, and reality itself.​
The Malsheem, a planetoid world craft holding the entirety of the Sith Order, graced itself towards the operations arena. Multiple sectors within the galactic south lay flayed and bare for their arrival - and preparations were in order to finalize their control. One of the remnants of the Worm Emperor’s plan to dominate the galaxy - cults imported through refugees and forced to infect the local zeitgeist with Sith sympathies, only to be militarized and radicalized by propaganda and dogmatic theocratic brainwashing.​
Violence had grown in the recent months, riots over nationalism and religious fervor - deaths in the thousands across multiple worlds around the galaxy, but here there was something more. Entrained into the population were special forces of various make - from the Sith Assassins, to the Blackguard, to the First Legion. They trained local forces, gave detailed information reports to the Sith Hierarchy, and prepared themselves for the Day of Obtenebration.​
Prophesied as a return of the Sith, the Day of Obtenebration was spread with a religious mystery that made it seem equal parts magic and crusade. For those ignorant it would be revelations - a day when their loyalty was rewarded, but for the trained it was a detailed instruction on how to achieve their goals.​
All one had to do was abide by simple goals -​
Quarantine​
Knowing that the return of a large Sith Force anywhere in the Galaxy would raise alarm bells for the Empire and Alliance, infrastructure in the region must be destroyed. Hyperlanes collapsed, hyperspace beacons destroyed, and holonet relays darkened - everything from space stations to pirate bastions, it must be brought to heel and occupied.​
Smugglers are of the highest threat - if any ship makes it away from the quarantine, they could upend everything the Sith have worked for. Nobody can escape the darkness - drag them back to the abyss kicking and screaming if they dare threaten us with the light.​
Cults​
With the Sith’s forces weakened after the conflict of the dark lords and Ozymandia’s invasion - they must rely on expedient control over the local planets. Cults have infiltrated the vox populi, but they are not heard by the governments that represent them. They have been radicalized by our priests, militarized by our special forces, and ready to reign carnage on those enslaved to the Force.​
Help them spread destruction on the non believers, overthrow the local governments and reign supreme over the local chattel. No resistance can be allowed to remain - they must bend the knee by threat or by force.​
The Light In Darkness​
There is only one major presence of Jedi in the region - the Jutrand Enclave. Small and isolated compared to the likes of the New Jedi Order or Silver Jedi Order, the Enclave has seen years of peace given their isolation. Despite this, they are battle hardened and dangerous, having volunteered in the Sith-Imperial War and further with the Mawite Invasions into the Core.​
If they are allowed to remain, the Sith may never achieve absolute control over the region. With the information blackout in effect, they must be killed before they can escape - by calling for help, or leaving on their transports. Kill the masters, corrupt the knights, and take the children for indoctrination.​
Kill any who would deny us our victory.​

 


The Malsheem​
In Transit​
Darth Empyrean, the Dead God, sat upon the chair given to him with a false fragility. He seemed to shake as he let his single hand support him into the seat - but any who could sense his strength knew it was for no reason than choosing to not use his power. A vessel locked tight, the man looked nigh upon a century old with his scars and deterioration, but his strength was unmatched even among those gathered.​
Which only drove the annoyance of his equality deeper. To be threatened and held hostage so that he could not lead the Sith was antithetical to the Sith's purpose - where the strong lead. His anger boiled in his stomach, threatening to spill out and consume anyone too close - but he withheld, drew it tighter within and let it build interest for a day he would truly need it. For now, there was planning to be had - and strength to be gained, so that none could question him.​
Seats were laid out around a holoprojector table, showing the Odionite region and the progress of their invasion. Most hyperspace beacons had been destroyed, gravity manipulators and Force Rituals collapsed the known hyperspace lanes delaying exits from the region by at least a few days. There was still much work to be done - but to ensure this did not fall apart, the Warlords had demanded a conference to determine how the seperation of the region would take place.​
Others began to trickle in - Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex , Darth Ophidia Darth Ophidia , Darth Megarea , and a few nameless with powerbases of their own. Many were allowed to enter simply for their regional strength, and while most could not compare to the larger sects strength - any conflict could end them outright. So a place was given to placate them, and Empyrean ground his teeth at the thought.​

 


Malsheem, Warlord's Conclave
876 ABY

The Dark Lord of the Sith sat with a grim countenance.

Among these squabbling lords, only two could profess with any veracity to be near His equal. They may proclaim that they are His equal, but that is a false notion, one born of hubris. Though He sits level with them, they are not His equals. This arrangement that He finds Himself, this Triumvirate of Warlords, is but a matter of circumstance rather than genuine alliance. When the existence of His Ur-Lich was threatened by the traitor Darth Ophidia, He had no choice but to agree to a conclave between her and the Corpse-Lord, Darth Empyrean, with whom He had been at war only moments before the arrangement was thrust upon Him.

So here He sat at this Machiavellian council, foes to His left and foes to His right. He could only trust in Himself here, and in His mastery of the Dark Side. Lesser claimants had been allowed to attend the gathering, the refuse of an Empire He had discarded, picking away at the scraps that fall from their plate. Yes, it was this situation that gave rise to the look of vexation which plagued the otherwise stoic visage of Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Master of the Malsheem.

Yes, Master of the very same world-vessel that the others had been magnanimously allowed to loiter within. He had designed Malsheem to be the Sith's ark, a vessel that would allow them to transcend borders and petty material disputes so common among their ancestors. One that would carry their seed through the ages, allowing it to perpetually germinate in a galaxy predisposed to their destruction. Naturally, He had envisioned Himself at the head of an endless, infinite host of Sith and Imperial loyalists; all bound by their belief in His vision, the one and only saving guidance of the Sith.

But reality was often disappointing, but Carnifex would maneuver through this new status quo as He had always done. The reed that stood rigid against the gale was battered, broken, destroyed. The reed that bent with the gale survived, even prospered. Decades of experience with the sordid cutthroat politics of the Sith allowed Him to stay ahead of His enemies, and it would continue to do so now. Yet, His mind was distracted, a recent prophecy still fresh in His memory.


The Rising Three will signal war's end.
Woe and triumph.
Armageddon for all.

There would be time to ponder the implications of this nefarious portent later, for the others had come. It was time to look to the future.

A future baptized in blood.



 
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Location: Sith Meditation Sphere | Poised in space above Orax
Notable Ships: SD-10s 'Monger' | SF-13 'Legion'
Equipment: Imbued Sith Talisman | Imbued Sith Sword | Sith Magistaff

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Through the nebula, machinations of mankind cut through the silent expanse of space. Leading the fleet was a distinctive Battle Cruiser, known in the Sith Order as the 'Monger'.

Yet the more curious object that came to rest above the surface of Orax was a small gold sphere only ten meters in diameter. It appeared as a large eye adorned with bat-like wings. The light from the mineral rich planet caused its gold casing to shimmer distinctively. Within the small chamber, sat an enigmatic figure.

Garbed in ornate robes and jeweled armor, Darth Veleson was deep in meditation. His eyes were closed, but he reached out through the Bogan with long black tendrils, seeking out the presence of the native sentient species, Shards. The crystalline species served particular interest to the Sorcerer, and once the human populace had been subjugated he would turn his focus to them.

His eyes remained closed, as a voice broke the silence of the chamber.

"My Lord, the legions are formed. They await your command."
The bridge officer of the Monger relayed, almost hesitantly.

"Dispatch them to the mining colonies, target communication facilities first. I want the remainder of the fleet to set up a blockade and begin jamming outgoing transmissions. I will collapse the hyperspace lanes."
The Sith relished the words, a cruel smile curling itself onto his lips.

"It will be done at once, My Lord."

Darth Veleson had not lost his concentration, and as he tapped into the cold but bountiful power of the Bogan, his talisman began to glow. The souls trapped inside bounced around like small orbs of light, as he drew upon their power to fuel his manipulation of reality. His mind was no longer within the sphere, but carefully plucking at the strands of reality, weaving them into what he saw fit.

Runes etched into the sides of the inner chamber began to glow faintly as he muttered incantations in the old tongue, "Girdeti Tave Visita iv Nuyak Valia. Jena'tes Dotacij Nun Tyûk." He repeated the phrase to himself as the environment around the sphere began to grow darker, heavier, and colder. It was the concentration of an ancient power, manifested.

Within the great shroud, he continued to weave the strands of reality. He'd aim to collapse the hyperspace lanes leading to and from Orax, thus making reinforcement highly improbable. As the energy continued to condense around the Sith Lord, it was only a matter of time..

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Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge
Objective: Secure Orax
Location: Orax's Capital City
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Veleson Darth Veleson
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It had been a good long while since Alisteri had enjoyed taking orders from anyone aside from his master, especially given the situation within the Sith Order, but today was an exception. Three planets were ordered to be taken. Three planets that had been seeded and infiltrated beforehand to make their coming victory assured and without the need for extensive invasion campaigns. Three worlds would burn this day, and then be reforged anew.

"The blockade is in place High Priest, transmissions from all across the planet are already speaking of riots and revolts turning deadly." The pilot glanced back at his leader as the Sith stared out of the cockpit at the city that they were flying towards. "Good. We'll let our friends in orbit take care of the complicated matters. Find us a landing zone close to the action." Alisteri turned and stepped into the main area of the transport shuttle, where his Legionnaires sat and checked over their weaponry before their mission truly began. "Legionnaires, brothers and sisters, today is a monumental day for the Sith..."

Riots and firefights echoed across Orax's largest and most important city, smoke soon starting to rise from major sources of conflict as basic shootouts turned to full on battles and skirmishes. "Today our fellow Sith strike out against their oppressors, declaring their allegiance to our order. But alone they can't hope to win against their entrenched and well supplied foes."

Zealous pilots rammed their vehicles of all kinds into hastily erected barricades and roadblocks, crowds roaring their triumph with each of the city's defenders that they drew blood from. Although many were armed, or getting armed from looting their fallen enemies, a fair bit still only had melee weapons or their bare hands to fight with. If anything, the lack of armament only made the mobs all the more dangerous as they charged into battle. "Some of you may remember one of the battles of Ziost, back during the days of the Sith Empire. The Alliance had conquered and fortified a city on the planet in order to keep waging their unjust war, capturing the civilian populace under their rule in the process..."

The transport shuttle soared over the outskirts of the city as vehicles were turned over and set alight, the police and security forces of the city having spread themselves thin in an attempt to stifle the riots. By now they had managed to reconvene, pulling back to fortify the city center and guard other important locations such as the spaceport and administration buildings. "A handful of our brothers and sisters volunteered to venture into the city in secret, blending in with the rest of the civilians and arming them in both material and faith. They would pay the ultimate price as the city revolted against their occupiers, and were gunned down as a result."

The pilot maneuvered the shuttle to land in a relatively open plaza, a few corpses and burned out vehicles littering the street around it as the ramp began to lower and the Legionnaires stood at attention. "Today we face a similar situation, our brothers and sisters are bound and oppressed by their current rulers. They too have risen up to take their destiny into their own hands, to shatter their chains and embrace the Sith. So in the name of our fallen Sith, for our future brothers and sisters that have taken up arms now..."

Alisteri stepped out onto the plaza and pulled his lightsaber from his belt as he surveyed the city around him. Not nearly enough carnage to overthrow the government, but that would be rectified. He ignited his weapon and turned his head to look back at his soldiers as they filed out of the transport. "Let us set these people free!"
 

Darth Megarea

Guest
D


The gathering had been called, and Darth Megarea had grudgingly answered. The actions of the Sith Order were interesting to Megarea, though in a passing way. She understood the tactics they employed against this region of space; isolate worlds, stage uprisings from within, and lay claim to a new dominion. Conquer from the shadows, and destroy the light another day. The Return of the Sith, as some within the Sith Order called this little plan, was poorly named in Megarea's mind. The Sith had never truly withdrew from the galactic stage; the Brotherhood of the Maw's barbaric rabble were proof of that. Whatever the reasoning they used, or the stories spun to fit the narrative, the actions leading to this day were all leading to a single thing.

The creation of a new Empire.

Arriving to the gathering of warlords, Megarea took her seat with the rest, though she sat isolated. Partly by choice, though primarily through circumstance. Among those here, almost all were former warriors or leaders within the Sith Empire. Whatever journeys had taken them from the north of the galaxy to the south, the shared background, despite the animosity and rivalry ripe in the air, connected them. In such company, Megarea was the outsider. The High Sith were recent additions to the gathering throngs of the Sith Order. Their very ideology placed them in contrast with almost every other group in the room, and Megarea's claim to a title would not help matters. Though she cared little for what the others thought of it, or her, for that matter.

For she was the Dark Lady of the Sith. She would rise, and all others would fall.

Her eyes cast about the room slowly, lingering on the Triumvirate leaders in the gathering. Whether they called themselves as such mattered little to the realities of it. The three of them, Darth Carnifex, Darth Empyrean, and Darth Ophidia, stood at the top of the pyramid right now. They each had power bases, forces loyal to their cause, and a nominal truce preventing them from outright slaughtering the other. They had tried that recently, as Megarea had learned, but that entertaining chapter had been forced to a close. Leaning back in her seat, Megarea brought a gloved hand up to her mouth; idly running a thumb across her cheek. It was a habit of hers when it she was considering matters of importance, and today, she had a feeling she would be doing it constantly.


Darth Ophidia Darth Ophidia Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis
 
Location: Jutrand Enclave​
Orion sat idle, nervous - thumbs twirling around one another as he contemplated the situation. Mass blackouts, riots across half the sector, and now the local enclave's council gathering to determine a course of action. It was too circumstantial, only a few months after Wyatt's death - that this would occur so far from the Maw's space. His thoughts were broken by the voice of a friend - Jux Vo.​
He smiled at Orion, his voice comforting and joking -​
"You nervous?", pointing to Orion's leg that shook up and down extremely quickly.​
Orion set a hand on it, calming his nervous tick before nodding.​
"Just a bit.", he said.​
"C'mon - You're Wyatt Morga's apprentice. I'm sure whatever happens, you'll be fine."​
"I...", he began, thinking of a way to deflect that expectation.​
"I haven't been a Jedi for a long time, Jux. What if I don't live up to his ideals?"​
"C'mon, I doubt anyone could. Let's go check on the younglings, make sure they're safe - then we can deal with living up to ideals."​
Orion smiled at that, nodded, and stood to follow as he tightened his coat around his shoulders.​
 
Warlord's Conclave
876 ABY

Engaged as she was in other matters currently with the Alliance, the Lady of Secrets could not attend the gathering carving up the Grumani Sector in person. A black raven with slightly glowing eyes of amethyst swooped down and took the place she had reserved for herself and her power base within this meeting, the familiar shifting into an image of Darth Arcanix seated at a space around the table that would place her equidistant to the three poles of power within the Sith Order.

She had kept her powder dry, so to speak, during the recent fighting between the Kainite and Eternals and the emergence of Ophidia's Tsis'Kal. She was content to play neutral and for hire at the moment, easily willing to side with one power over the other. But right now, it was all about the landgrab going on in the region. She might not have dispatched her power base to invade when they began the disruptions, but it didn't mean she wasn't spreading her power in other ways.

She inclined her head to the three Triumvirates and waited for the conclave to begin, and on the gleaming world of Coruscant, a map of the region was on display for her observation on both what was agreed here and the progress of her own operations.

Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean Darth Ophidia Darth Ophidia Darth Megarea Darth Prazutis Darth Prazutis
 
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OBTENEBRATION

Homecoming

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Hyperspace, aboard the Dour Predator, one week ago


For years, the Grumani sector had been bountiful. Refugees fleeing into the region coupled with smart investments from certain corporate holdings led to quite the economic and population boom. And in that boom came prosperity, attracting even more of the lost, looking for a new home.

And Anthysius had been happy to give it to them.

Employed as miners, labourers, foremen, engineers, traders, Elevar Holdings had been key to the economic recovery of the sector. Of course, there were always trouble spots to prosperity. The nosy Jedi on Jutrand fought a losing war against the thousands of corporations incorporated there, stymied at every turn. Regional governments unresponsive to investments. But that was little trouble.

Then the Sith came to the region. The Three demanded it be taken, openly and with force of arms.

He had been furious when he heard of it, of course. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid; other Sith encroaching on the worlds he had cultivated for his own use, worlds far from the old Empire, where he could wait and plan while his resources piled up. Alas, the Force has a sense of twisted humour, and of course the Order wished to take over the region, starting with the old Odionate.

Anthysius told himself he should not have been surprised. The sector was home to past glories of the Sith, and so obviously the modern shadow of the Sith would gravitate to it. Perhaps he was no different in that aspect, grasping at the past to find some measure of the present. He was sure of at least one thing: this had not been a ploy to target him specifically. As much as he loved to hold a good grudge, it was unlikely his activities had even registered with the Dark Lords. This was just... bad luck.

A knock on the door. Anthysius waved it open, revealing one of the aides.

"My lord, we are exiting hyperspace."

He gave a small nod.

"Alert the command room, let them know to prepare for transmission."

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In orbit of Sanrafsix, aboard the Dour Predator, one week ago

"Patch into the hyperspace relays. Command code 34-65-29-00. Begin transmission of audio file 0-A."

Anthysius leaned onto the console after he gave the command. The communications room was a flurry of activity as they hooked into the relays (owned and operated by one of Anthysius' corporate subsidiaries, of course). He watched the sensor map on the holo-table as the Fatal Sums and Insolence dropped out of hyperspace, followed by one, then two, then a dozen, then more transport ships of every shape and size. A flotilla of transports he had handpicked from DelStar Quality, only the best and biggest from the fleet. They were filled to the brim with Anthysius' surviving retainers; Sith, soldiers, corporate suits, administrators, technical staff. Several thousand in all, ready to split up and head towards their destinations all across the Sector to take executive control and prepare the groundwork for the Sith takeover. Already several had jumped back into hyperspace ahead of the warships.

A cruel smile played on his scarred lips. If the Sith Order wanted to take control of the region, Anthysius was more than happy to oblige, as long as he rolled out the red carpet.

A low hum filled the room as the old transmitter station tucked in the back of the command room whirred to life. Across a graphical printout read the message they were transmitting:

-


SECURITY VERIFICATION: *********
BROADCASTING ALONG SECURE HYPERSPACE RELAYS


ELEVAR HOLDINGS

PRIORITY MEMO
To: Executive staff of CEG, DelStar, GSP, Z&T Group[...]

- In view of upcoming corporate plans, physical executive supervision as per SOP 2133 will be in effect.
-- Please refer to document 13-A-55 for instruction and protocol to prepare. Forward any inquiries to your direct supervisor.

- All confidentiality protocols are in effect.
-- Please refer to document 09-C-37 for confidentiality protocol in regards to planetary authorities.

Leaking of this memo will result in the execution of prosecution to the fullest extent of the law and beyond.

PRIORITY MESSAGE
To: Oversight Committee of Society for the Awakening of the Galaxy

ACTION PHRASE: Cardinal in the roost
Verification: *******


Prepare all lower circles for upcoming events.
Non-priority events are to be cancelled or postphoned.
Refer to coda TH-11 for security protocols

Much thanks, remain mindful

Awaiting the Awakening

SHROUD COMMAND

To: Red Shroud GenStaff

Code Maroon-2 is in effect
Protocols ZETA, ULION, KARBANDA are in effect immediately.
Termination protocols active

Verification code:
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One Week Ago
Across a dozen worlds, movements were made. Transport and freight lines were slowed or cancelled or redirected, seemingly at random, with talk about hyperspace anomalies and supply delays. Security contractors were ordered on high alert, and black vehicles without markings were seen moving through Jutrand city to the consternation of its corporate residents. Mining operations on a dozen worlds were halted and boarded up with security, while agricultural harvests were sped up to be completed in under a week. Market fluctuations for over a hundred stock funds maintained a steady upward clip, almost too steady, as if to calm investors.

All of which resulted in most movement throughout the sector slowing to a crawl as people across a thousand occupations took a short break from the hustle and bustle until something unblocked the economic ouroboros. But all the while tension ramped up, as if something was about to burst upon them.

Just as planned.

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TODAY

"Dispatch them to the mining colonies, target communication facilities first. I want the remainder of the fleet to set up a blockade and begin jamming outgoing transmissions. I will collapse the hyperspace lanes."
Among the few mining colonies not under ZIMC control, the sudden eruption of violence across the sector would have been shocking. While ZIMC mines willingly surrendered and were peacefully occupied by Sith troopers, the competition would be forcefully destroyed and seized. All the better for the Concern.

Seats were laid out around a holoprojector table, showing the Odionite region and the progress of their invasion. Most hyperspace beacons had been destroyed, gravity manipulators and Force Rituals collapsed the known hyperspace lanes delaying exits from the region by at least a few days.
With the preparations a week ago, Elevar Holdings subsidiaries had hunkered down in place in preparation to conduct their operations self-sustainably for a while. Months, if need be. They would all be vital in the restarting of the region's economy when the initial invasion moved into occupation and integration, with an intact supply network, as when the lanes collapsed, dozens of freight lines lost their transport ships, but not DelStar who surreptitiously grounded their ships for 'maintenance' days ago.

Riots and firefights echoed across Orax's largest and most important city, smoke soon starting to rise from major sources of conflict as basic shootouts turned to full on battles and skirmishes. "Today our fellow Sith strike out against their oppressors, declaring their allegiance to our order. But alone they can't hope to win against their entrenched and well supplied foes."
On the streets, Red Shroud had declared allegiance to the Sith and were assisting them in enforcing control and order against the rioters who resisted. They would be vital in ensuring compliance. Among the cultists, the Awoken held a large percentage of the numbers and across many worlds they now seized control of the riots, surreptitiously directing the rage of the crowd against targets acceptable to Anthysius and away from the Sith themselves.

Orion sat idle, nervous - thumbs twirling around one another as he contemplated the situation. Mass blackouts, riots across half the sector, and now the local enclave's council gathering to determine a course of action. It was too circumstantial, only a few months after Wyatt's death - that this would occur so far from the Maw's space.
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On Jutrand, corporate offices shuttered and hid in their bunkers as chaos reigned. Riots were in the streets, some controlled by the Awakening Society, others not. But no matter, as the fires of rage on the corporate world inflamed, someone was there to stir the pot.

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Issan Sturm stepped out of her transport, flanked by a dozen Sith Acolytes, into the midst of the cultist uprising. This entire sector of the city was blacked out from security forces, half of which were on her master's payroll, anyway. A carefully controlled uprising now cut off the Jutrand Jedi Enclave's headquarters from the rest of the city. An Awoken cultist ran up to them, a leader, by the looks of it, his face half-covered by a broken mask. The group held crude implements of war, shaped in the fashion of the Sith.

"Oh blessed day! The Most High One has sent his emissary of death!"

Issan nodded.

"We bring the abyssal jaws of Awakening to the slugs that have feasted off your power. Continue to bring vengeance upon them, safe for your benefactors," she added. They both know which corporate offices were to be spared.

"Send your most vaunted warriors here. We march on the hypocritical aegis of your enemies: the Jedi."

Leading a dozen acolytes and a hundred rabble, Issan marched to the Enclave.

Orion Skywalker Orion Skywalker

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Location: Warlord's Conclave, Malsheem
There was still much work to be done - but to ensure this did not fall apart, the Warlords had demanded a conference to determine how the seperation of the region would take place.
Others began to trickle in - @Carnifex-Demiurge , @Darth Ophidia , @Darth Megarea , and a few nameless with powerbases of their own. Many were allowed to enter simply for their regional strength, and while most could not compare to the larger sects strength - any conflict could end them outright. So a place was given to placate them, and Empyrean ground his teeth at the thought.
Her eyes cast about the room slowly, lingering on the Triumvirate leaders in the gathering. Whether they called themselves as such mattered little to the realities of it. The three of them, Darth Carnifex, Darth Empyrean, and Darth Ophidia, stood at the top of the pyramid right now. They each had power bases, forces loyal to their cause, and a nominal truce preventing them from outright slaughtering the other. They had tried that recently, as Megarea had learned, but that entertaining chapter had been forced to a close. Leaning back in her seat, Megarea brought a gloved hand up to her mouth; idly running a thumb across her cheek. It was a habit of hers when it she was considering matters of importance, and today, she had a feeling she would be doing it constantly.

Among the many warlords strode Anthysius, head raised high, ceremonial armour emblazoned proudly with the sigil of House Calimondra. Inheritance meant little among the Sith, in truth, but he would not bow and cower when it came to the matter of his turf. And his it was, and everyone in the conclave knew it. Without him, the takeover would leave far less intact resources.

He did not plan to ask for much, but if any of them believed they could trample the nameless Knight, the entire infrastructure and economy of the sector would collapse overnight. While Sith pretended not to care about mere numbers and economics, the truth was that a scorched sector was poor return on the effort invested by the Order, not to mention impossible to defend from the inevitable response by a Galaxy who thought them long dead.

He wished he had his retainers with him, but alas a few nameless acolytes would do. Issan was busy on Jutrand, and several others were ensuring the transition went smoothly elsewhere. It would be hard to negotiate a controlling share of the Grumani sector if the takeover attempts damaged his holdings, after all.
 
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"While the gods play.."

Aboard one of numerous transports Alina glared up at the shadow of Malsheem. The Warlord's Conclave was surely under way. The leaders of their respective organizations discussing politics of all things while those under them made sure the planet stayed in that shadow. There were too many moving parts to sit around and talk shop before the shop was even set up.

She wasn't annoyed at all that she hadn't been invited.

Her gaze lowered as the Inquisitorius shuttles dipped through the clouds. They jetted forward, low to the ground like a creeping shadow for the Jedi Enclave. Of all things she trained her Inquisitors to do, it was the subjugation of Force Users she put first and foremost.

:: Capture who you can. Kill who you cannot. If word spreads of our arrival, the hounds will surely come to this side of the galaxy. Don't try and fight those stronger than you alone. ::

Alina spoke only briefly over the holocom to her Inquisitors. They knew what they had to do. Her gaze flicked briefly to her own apprentice, watching Kyrilu only for a moment. He'd come far, but how would he handle striking out against the Jedi? It was as much a test for him as it was an importance to the whole of the Sith Order.

"Take a squad of the 67th when we land, secure the library. I'm sure some of those Jedi will try to destroy what they can before we can get our hands on it. Hideouts, other temples. Secure all information you can find. Understood?"

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked | Daxa Zuul Daxa Zuul | Rhynne Urdreth Rhynne Urdreth
 

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MALSHEEM, MEETING CHAMBER...

Anathema.

Such a situation was antithesis to everything he was and everything he stood for. Dominance flowed through him and even when he was a youth he was blessed with a supreme presence as if he was born to command. The Lord of Lies was infamous as the shadow of death, the reaper who stalked friend and foe destroying threats to his power and by extension to House Zambrano and the Kainate. The umbral demons relationship with the Butcher-King was more than a dyad, a brotherhood, with Kaine he was first among equals and together they reigned over all they built together. Outside of this unique relationship there was no equal. Submission or annihilation it was the offer extended to so many over the years. Their influence was felt in events throughout the decades. Even as far as the fateful battle of Atrisia where a grand meeting of Sith Lords turned into a pitched battle and caused the decapitation of many of the sith leaders of the period. Influence of the Lord of Lies to see rivals destroyed through any means. So when the Ur-Lich of his nephew was threatened, the one and only way to truly destroy his blood, time stopped. It held the three greatest masters of the dark side in the galaxy to the same table.
As the shadows of the thronecraft descended into the system however the effects of the devastating betrayal were still felt.
The Master of Malsheem sat beside his nephew in the meeting room which by all appearances looked pristine, untouched. The rest of Malsheem however was an understatement. The hallways of the colossal planetoid were a living nightmare, a blasted hellscape pulled from the vilest realms of the nether itself. Oceans of blood spattered the walls, chambers, barracks, and factory floors. Bodies were piled against walls in visible mass graves while mindless automatons and decraniated servants lifted them onto grand hoversleds. Not one resource wasted even in the bodies of both sides which would be converted into resources. The Blackblade Guard still stood with each of its seven legions present the grand conductors of the horrific purge. These gigantic butchers were a flood of implacable, unmoving behemoths that were visible on every level. While the white hot fires of the purges earliest moments faded they were still conducting executions beside special agents of the Lord of Lies that penetrated the deep recesses of the mind and soul. They would uncover knowing or unknowing traitors in a screening process to lay everything bare. The inner sanctum of the worldcraft were flooded with huge numbers of Crownguard. Due to such gatherings of Sith their presence greatly magnified.
Malsheem was their brainchild. The crowning achievement of construction and a project carried across three empires. As the great shadow and often vizier of his nephew in the past, it was often his responsibility to oversee it directly. Everything from logistics to safety and security concerns. It elevated them beyond petty planetary concerns and local boundaries and was everything one needed to forge an empire. A forge without equal to churn out everything from immense dreadnaughts to arms, armor, vehicles of war and even organic soldiers. The resources of empires were secretly leeched and poured through to create the greatest bastion since the days of the Death Stars of old. But this was not made as the ultimate superweapon, rather the heart of darkness for a sith dynasty. As the eyes of this new behemoth swept the room. A pair of crimson orbs burning in the head of this new form. The giant's body was a unique form, a scintillating ever shifting luminescence to it that remained ever shrouded by a peaceful cloak of darkness. Even if his hand was stalled from cutting the throats of his foes his mind was at work. He would never forget, never forgive any slight especially one as deep as betrayal. It would fester and grow within until the right time to unleash and then all would suffer.


 
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Location: Sith Meditation Sphere | Orax
Notable Ships:SD-10s 'Monger' | SF-13 'Legion'
Equipment: Imbued Sith Talisman | Imbued Sith Sword | Sith Magistaff
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius Anthysius Soraysom-Calimondra Anthysius Soraysom-Calimondra
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Darth Veleson remained fixated upon his ritual. Through his mastery of Sith Sorcery, the known hyperspace lanes around Orax began to shatter, fracturing into various lanes. Some led to empty space while others led to certain death. A guttural hum emanated from the Sith Lord's mouth as he smiled with glee.

His hands moved with fluid precision, clawed appendages seemingly playing an invisible instrument as he worked. In space, the known hyperspace lanes effected would emanate a radiating boom. A display of purple light that accompanied the blast could likely be seen from the besieged cities. And then as suddenly as it had appeared, the light and sounds dissipated. There was no outward change in appearance from orbit or the ground but the planet had been effectively bottlenecked. It would only be accessible from the route the Fleet had plotted on their arrival. Orax was theirs for the taking.

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Darth Veleson moved his meditation sphere further down, into the planets atmosphere. He was destined to the planet's capital city. Although the exercise of collapsing the hyperspace lanes was tedious, the Sith Lord was voracious in his approach. He would not be satisfied unless he was exerting total domination over the entirety of Orax.

Word had reached the Sith Lord of the Warlord Council prior to their arrival to Orax. Even though deliberations had not yet taken place, Darth Veleson cared little. His domination of Orax would be final and he would take what he wanted, although he was apathetic as to ruling over the isolated rock.

"The hyperspace lanes have collapsed, inform the fleet to dispatch two squadrons of fighters at each blockade point. Scour space for pirates and smugglers. No one escapes the planet."
The Sith dictated to the bridge officer of the Monger.

"Yes, M'Lord. I have received word that there was little resistance from the mining colonies. Those that have resisted are being liberated swiftly and efficiently."
The bridge officer finished with a coy smile, confident his words would please the zealous Sith Lord.

"The planet is not yet ours, Admiral. Save your ovations for when they are owed."
Darth Veleson quickly reminded the bridge officer, his voice domineering the conversation.

"I want air and space supremacy over Orax. Nothing flies without my approval. I will see to it that any rebellion is squashed."
The Sith Lord commanded finally, before cutting the communication line. He felt it was adequate motivation. As a mostly human crew, the officers were fearful of his presence and domineering personality.

Darth Veleson had not forgotten his personal objective, which was to locate the Shards within their cavernous colonies. As his meditation sphere glided down from the edge of the atmosphere and into it, he once again extended his mind through the Bogan. Like long black tendrils, his presence dictated itself to the vast mineral deposits throughout the surface of the planet. He was beginning to think they had been entirely wiped out when he felt it. A sentient being in a deep cavern, its brain as complex as a bipedal being - but frantic. The Shards realized what was happening to their home, and in their natural state they were unable to do anything about it.

Darth Veleson relished the fear and once again his talisman began to glow. He was tapping into his Dark Side potential, reaching a hand into the cold shroud to manipulate it to his will. Like iron chains forged in fire he mastered and tempered his craft, controlling every aspect of power.

He'd kept his eyes closed throughout his time in the sphere, as he so often did. It allowed him to focus his control as he began to cast Force Fear onto the shard. It immediately reacted, and at that moment the entire colony was revealed to the Sith. He let out an audible snicker, until he felt...resistance.

"Curious".
The Sith Lord offered to himself in rebuttal.

If his calculations were correct, it was what he had been searching for. A force sensitive Shard. With this the Sith Lord confidently opened his eyes, revealing the capital city before him. It was lightly marred, although the heaviest fighting appeared to still be coming. As he sat poised above the city in his craft, his yellow hues came to rest upon a figure baring a lightsaber. He appeared to be giving a speech to a group of soldiers. Darth Veleson reached out through the Bogan rather obviously to examine his presence in the force. Darth Strosius Darth Strosius

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(Objective 2: Cults)
(Flavor music)

I'm leading a contingent of soldiers and Sith warriors into Bantlak City, one of the larger mining settlements on the planet. The dropships plummet to the surface and are soon unloading the troops, who waste no time bringing the local populace in line

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The command ship touches down along with the troop carriers
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barking orders at the troops -- "Fan out! Round up every man, woman and child in the town square! Shoot anyone who resists!"

reaches out with my senses -- One of THEM is here!

walking on foot, searching and stalking.... --
"Over there! Destroy that ship!" -- points to the X-Wing fighter, a trio of Stormtroopers promptly blast the one-man ship into a flaming junk pile

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speaking telepathically with The Force -- "You cannot run, Jedi. I WILL find you. Show yourself."

feels the presence of the Jedi -- "There is no escape! And your precious temple will soon be in ruins, all your masters will be killed. Your padawan younglings shall become a new generation of Dark Side warriors and all of your secrets will belong to the Sith! All hope is lost."


"Nooooooooo!" --
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from seemingly nowhere, a girl charges out with saber blazing, narrowly misses -- her near miss is so close the pulsing green laser sword cuts through the clasp on my cloak, which falls to the ground as I spin away

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"We'll fight you! As long as one of us survives, there is ALWAYS hope!"

activates one blade from my saber-staff
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"That may be true, but you won't be the one that survives..."

slices at the young knight; tit for tat, I shave off a piece of her tunic, the edges of which glow red and smoulder

Now I'm toying with her, she is grossly outmatched...and her fear, she can barely control it...
slash, dodge, parry, tap, block, stab, lunge, swipe, swing...

force telekinesis
-- yanks the saber blade out of her grasp, slices the hilt in midair
then I lift her with the force, an invisible hand chokes her and suspends the helpless Jedi in mid-air before me


"Hahahahaha! You are no match for the power of the Dark Side!"
feels the terror rising inside her, oh yes....such raw, primal fear...
my saber's edge is hovering so close to her throat, ready to end her life


"You can save them. You can be saved. All you need to do is to submit. Bend your knee to my masters and submit to the true power of The Force."

she sputters out while being choked -- "I'll never join you!"

unexpectedly, I sense an incoming missle of some sort; using the Force, the Jedi hurls a large rock into the back of my skull
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"ARRGGHHH!!!! You will pay for that!" -- as I rub the back of my head, the girl disappears into the shadows

[to be continued]
 
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The younglings were fine - thought anxious and perturbed by the ignorance forced upon them. They didn't need to know about the riots, the murders, the chaos outside; they couldn't process it like a Jedi Knight could, couldn't comprehend it like an adult. Yet with that thought, Orion considered if he could process it - he'd spent years shock boxing and working as an impromptu ship mechanic, not a Jedi.​
How was he going to deal with this?​
Jux Vo exited the last room just as he clicked off his holocomm. His expression was dark, worry furrowing his brow and forming lines beneath his eyes. The breach in confidence sent Orion's heart into free fall for the briefest of moments - his voice catching in his throat as he tried to ask what happened. Jux simply shook his head;​
"A riot is on its way to the Enclave.", he said with a deepening worry.​
"... What's worse, is what they said they saw. Sith leading it - I'm not sure if its just fear or its true, but all Jedi have been called to defensive positions."​
Orion swallowed hard - his fear coming true, a deeper anger blossoming. The Sith are here, the ones who Wyatt sacrificed his life to stop; and they would exist even now? His jaw worked, grinding teeth just as Jux put a hand on Orion's shoulder.​
"Calm down. Think about your training.", he reassured.​
Calm down, Orion mused.​
Breath slow - count the seconds. His heart rate fell a bit, and the anger subsided from the edge of his vision.​
"Good?", Jux asked.​
"Good.", he replied.​
 
Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge
Objective: Secure Orax
Location: Orax's Capital City
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Veleson Darth Veleson / Anthysius Soraysom-Calimondra Anthysius Soraysom-Calimondra
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As the chaos and riots in the city began to solidify into proper battles and firefights, Alisteri led his Legion forward in a march towards the city center. The various guards and law enforcement had already either retreated or been pushed back to several pockets where they defended what little ground they had left, most of the rest of the city being overrun with rioters and Sith supporters alike.

The sight of the meditation sphere above the city only served to further break the morale of the defenders as the more militarized forces within the capital began to bring their might down upon the pockets as more waves of rioters rushed to overwhelm them. The fighting in most of the city had become building to building, floor to floor, as most of the roads and open spaces other than the city center were now either overrun by the rioters or had simply been evacuated by the guards.

Alisteri's stride didn't pause, even as he felt some presence lingering on him that was definitely not the surprised gazes of the rioters that he and his soldiers passed by. Rather it was distant and from someone or something not in the city. He ignored the feeling, well aware that the gaze of many Sith would be upon the worlds where the uprisings were occurring.

Having an audience mattered little. He had his orders and more importantly he had brothers and sisters in faith to assist.

Soon enough the Sith Knight and his Legion arrived at the scene of the most vicious fighting, on the outskirts of the city center. The administrative and government offices, several corporate buildings, and the main law enforcement headquarters formed the pocket that the majority of the remaining guards found themselves in. By now they had established relatively solid lines of defense and collapsed most entrances to the center in order to limit the the chances of them being overwhelmed.

Some ships and vehicles, many of them simply being civilian repulsorlifts, flew overhead and rained down blaster fire onto the rioters that were attempted to flood through the defenses and break into the center. Vehicles and debris had been arranged into walls and barricades, makeshift pillboxes with which the defenders could lay down deadly lines of fire into the waves of attackers. Here would be where the revolt's supporters would make the most difference, as the crowds alone stood almost no chance of breaching past the deadly defenses.

Of course Alisteri and his Legionnaires hardly had any heavy weapons or explosives with which to blow a hole in the defenses, but they did have a major advantage. They were organized, trained, and led by a Sith with plenty of urban combat experience under his belt. To that end he wasted little time in ordering his soldiers away from the main killzones and into the buildings that stood around the various barricades. They couldn't bust through the barricades themselves, but they could go around it.
 


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Tergamenion

A storm was sweeping towards Tergamenion.

Communications ceased entirely, and even the stars in the night sky began to disappear one by one. Orbital platforms reported only seeing an encroaching darkness, one that swallowed the stars themselves and blocked out all light from outside the system. It was a great writhing mass, impossibly large, discharging streaks of electricity into the empty vacuum. It wasn't until this storm was right on Tergamenion's doorstep that they could see it for what it really was, or rather, what it contained.

Ships.

Legions of them.

Like the first drop before a downpour, the storm opened its gaping maw and thousands upon thousands of ships emerged from the gloom. Cackling lightning danced along their hulls, sheets of frost breaking away as the armada broke through Tergamenion's atmosphere and began to fill the skies above its factory-cities. Drop pods, large unwieldy spear tips, crashed into the streets. Their sides popped open, crimson-clad troops emerging with rifles raised and belching violet plasma.

Walking among them was a tall man, his lithe body dressed in dark leather and linin. White hair cascaded down from his scalp while his eyes shone as bright as gems of amber. With a crackling red lightsaber he led the charge, hacking into those that stood in his way. A dark pallor clung to his body, a devious Shadow, as though another stood where he stood. When this Shadow moved, so too did the man. And he spoke with the Shadow's voice, the Shadow's words leaving a sour taste upon the man's lips.

He knew that they were not his own, but he had surrendered to the Shadow; because the Shadow gave him comfort. What actions need he take, when the Shadow provided all the guidance he could desire. He was but a broken puppet, pulled along by unbreakable string.

Kaahlil, the Dark Mirror, could do little more than dance to the Shadow's tune.

But beneath the resignation, there was another feeling.

Joy.

Joy for the parting of flesh, the smell of blood, and the screams of terror which filled the air so liberally. In the end, Kaahlil did not regret his place in the Shadow's game. He had come to embrace it, enjoy it, and even yearn for it. The power he felt coursing through him was greater than anything he had felt wallowing in his own delusion and self-pity. Oh, but do not believe that he had forgotten the kernel of hate that smoldered in his belly.

Before long, he would exact his vengeance against his counterpart and his sordid little lover.

Mark his words.

They would pay.


 
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The ground troops are mopping up all around town
their pitiful resistance can't overcome the might of the Sith Empire
other Sith Warriors and Lords take control of the main battle
Now I'm on a personal mission...


"Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

The chase has led me into a large warehouse...
dark and shadowy with many places to hide from seeking eyes
but I'm sniffing out her fear...she reeks of it, the scent is overwhelming
Time to up the stakes...


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lets loose a blast of Force Lightning...the Dark side energy crackles along my fingertips
Electricity arcing on nearby metal containers, making sparks and flashes
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This time I'm prepared for the incoming junk and metal being thrown my way
--dodge, duck, sidestep, force grabs and throws it safely aside--

but it's only a distraction...A large industrial air circulator unit comes crashing down from the ceiling
barely dodges the huge machine, now a broken pile of parts and smoldering electronics

That's when she strikes...as I recover, she Force Sprints the distance between us in less than a second
She strikes me with a metal rod as I rise to my feet
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"HAHAHA!!!" -- I actually let her hit me, allow her to think she's gaining ground

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My dual sabers ignite and I cut the metal stick into pieces...
She hurls them at me in a futile effort to strike back
sidestep, weave, spin move....
Force Grab! ...she's constricted by an invisible snake which slithers from above, lifting her off her feet
"Splendid! Fear...now Anger...you want to kill me." (growls menacingly)
"But you're helpless. There is nothing you can do." (mocking voice)
my taunts serve to fuel her anger, I want to stoke the flames into an inferno of HATE....

I can give you the means...you fight well, you deserve a fair chance. And I like a challenge...

detaches my dual saber and tosses half of my weapon on the ground
Lets her go, she immediately scrambles for the lightsaber, but doesn't yet ignite the blade
waves my own saber menacingly, still burning red
"Now we're even. Do what you must. The only way to save yourself is to KILL ME."


"No...you stay back. I WILL do it." -- senses that she's never taken a life --
walks forward purposefully, raises my saber to deliver the strike...
She quickly counters, her own laser sword comes to life and we begin our dance
I'm in the lead, though she does her best to overcome my defense


"Is this all you've got? The doom of the Jedi is surely sealed with the likes of you..."
she grows more and more furious, desperation and fear gives way to anger and hatred
"AAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" -- she roars as the rage within her is fully unleashed
"Yes!! You have the power! Unleash your hatred and strike me down!!"

(the duel continues)
 
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It wasn't Empyrean that would rise to speak - but the Sepulchral, a non aligned agency of Sith who sacrificed their ambitions for cohesion of the order. The one who spoke was ancient, skin looking more like a mummified corpse than even the Worm's Heir; and his voice grinded upon itself like dust in the wind.​
"Welcome, Warlords.", the man, or what was left of one, said.​
"We've come to discuss the seperation of fiefdoms in the approaching Empire. What we decided today, to none's ignorance, will set boundaries and lines of power between you. Ensuring this peace lasts - the Sepulchral will help define these givings in as legal a manner as possible."​
He smiled a crooked, rotted grin beneath sulphuric eyes.​
"As legal as Sith can appreciate."​
He cleared his throat, watching as a wider view of the sector came into view;​
"This is the territory currently under consolidation. Major planets, minor planets, various resource colonies - much to be divided for administration."​
Empyrean adjusted in his seat, moving to tap his finger as though annoyed. The Sepulchral member noticed and nodded;​
"Please, who would make the first claim?"​

 


Darth Carnifex watched as the aged Sepulchral spoke, their words like the crinkling of dried flimsiplast. Few would have imagined that these desiccated wizards would have held such a place of respect among the Warlords, but few truly realized their importance. They were the reliquaries of knowledge, keepers of an ancient tradition that stretched back even before the Exile; perhaps even before the time of King Adas, the Unconquered Sun. The Warlords had made moves to ingratiated themselves with the Sepulchral following the demise of the Worm Emperor, but they were impervious to any ability of theirs to guile and to entice.

Instead, they offered their services freely as advisors and guides, untainted by the politics of the Warlords. One of the Sepulchral stood to Carnifex's side, a withered Pureblood kept aloft by reinforced braces, their organs maintained by pump-driven machines. He did not know what this guide's name was, nor did the guide offer it. But this nameless Pureblood had come to Carnifex's side, offering to help advise the Dark Lord as He helped forge this new Empire. Carnifex could see others of the Sepulchral standing beside the other Warlords, even some of the lesser chiefs.

He considered the possibility that the Sepulchral were playing their own game, a shadow game hidden beneath the struggles of the Warlords. He found the possibility very likely.

"The Kainate," spoke Carnifex after the offer for claims was given, "Has already laid claim to three systems, Alphoresis, Gazzari, and Tergamenion. Whatever spoils exist elsewhere in this fertile ground, you may divide among yourself." These worlds were located towards the center of the Grumani sector, each world forming a triangular redoubt. Alphoresis was an uninhabited plagueworld, its surface host to various plagues that had rendered all attempts to repopulate the world impossible. Gazzari was likewise uninhabited, but only because its surface was dotted with volcanos and the skies unleashed torrents of acid rain at regular intervals. Tergamenion was perhaps the only world of the three that could be considered worthwhile, as it was a factory-world that was still in operational capacity.

Kainate vessels had moved to secure Alphoresis' and Gazzari's orbits prior to the meeting, with a surgical strike launched against Tergamenion as the council took session.



 


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Empyrean's lip curled at the planets mentioned by Carnifex. Spies from the Frumentarii had told him of Tergamenion and Alphoresis, but not of Gazzari. They were strategically close together, and powerful in various ways - but the last seemed more for the sake of convenient defense than true interest. It was an ore rich planet with tetonic movements on par with some of the best - the IGBC had once shown prospective interest in it, but decided its isolation on the edge of the galaxy didn't deserve such investment.​
Still - it paid to be on one's toes when dealing with Sith of this caliber. No doubt the Warlord Carnifex fully intended to utilize research facilities and manufacturing planets to supply his forces with bioweapons - a simple and effective strategy, but an annoyance none the less. Especially were it to be use against the Eternals.​
"The Eternals have no qualms.", he said with little emotion.​
"They seek Darkknell, Jutrand, and Vellas Pavo."​
Darkknell was a strategic world for its resources - but more than that, its placement on the Hydian Way would secure Empyrean the security of a trade route into the rest of the Galaxy; possibly to incur their own tax and tithe from traders and smugglers when the hyperlanes were reopened. Jutrand was more obvious - it was one of the largest population centers in the region; nearly on par with Terminus. It stood as not only a trophy - but as a buerucratic throne; the issue being, that until it was fully secure, it would severely dampen the Eternal's reach, tying much of their military and administrative resources towards its security.​
The last was Vellas Pavo - one of four superconductor worlds. With its control, the Eternals would once again gain access to resources to produce their highly advanced technology; and doubly a profit by selling it to the other Warlords. Empyrean, for all that he was now, still held that business acumen like none other. It was not as secure a position as Carnifex's claims, but it would suffice in its potential.​
Should the Eternal's hold it, their momentum would be great.​

 

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