One Day I Wish to Have This Kind of Time [Sith Triumvirate Dominion of Chalacta]

[Caulder Dune]

​

​

[Information]​

Objective: Something Completely Different
Location: Jordir, Commercial District
Company: [member="Byzus Lanko"], Metanecron

Posts: [01/20]

If Darth Adekos were at all aware of the unfolding crisis regarding Chalacta's Prime Minister, he was doing a good job of ignoring it. "All I want to know," he said to the skeevy Neimoidian standing in front of him, "Is if they have it. Do they?" Adekos folded his arms across his chest and might have been looking at the Neimoidian expectantly. It was difficult to tell with the mask and all. Behind him a couple of the Sith's terrible Metanecron stood at attention behind him, garbed in cloaks for added inconspicuousness.

Byzus Lanko had no such escorts, and that contributed to the inherent discomfort he felt in meeting the Sith Lord in this alley. The Neimodian glanced backwards, checking to make sure the escape route was clear if he needed to bolt. It probably wasn't. One extra Metanecron could easily be blocking the exit while invisible. Adekos snapped his fingers to draw Byzus' attention back to him. "Focus, Byzus. You had one job."

Well, Byzus actually had two jobs. Probably much more if he counted all the differing tasks handed down to him. This wasn't how it was supposed to be, but for some reason Adekos liked making him run petty errands in between his usual duties organizing corporate assets. It built character, he was told. Right now Byzus was quite sure the only thing these errands built was high blood pressure. They were never very dangerous, but the fact that they were outside of his usual expertise meant he could potentially fail. Byzus heard all the stories about what happened to people who failed their Sith employers. None of them had happy endings.

"They got-" He started, but cut himself off. "Well, they have the- not just the one. The whole set." It had been completely out of Byzus' power whether or not they had just one article or they entire set. Still, a messenger delivering good news was looked on more favorably than a messenger delivering mediocre or bad news. The Neimoidian produced the necessary datapad for Adekos, holding it for him to take. "It's all there. It's all on different lots, though, so..."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I've been tortured over the course of a black market auction." Adekos replied mirthlessly. Byzus didn't get the reference. "No matter. You're sure they're all there?"

"Yes, yeah."

"Marvelous. Don't go too far, I'll need your help to deliver them to the spaceport."

Byzus found himself nodding silently, stepping aside as Adekos and his escorts filed past. The Darth took the datapad from Byzus as he exited the alleyway, and was already studying it intently as they emerged back into the mildly populated city streets.

Spoiler

[member="Ameli Trahir"]
[member="Arasuum"]
[member="Belis Verd"]
[member="Caid Centurion"]
[member="Catalys Maijora"]
[member="Count Morcus"]
[member="Dagorn"]
[member="Darth Carach"]
[member="Darth Crucifere"]
[member="Darth Kentarch"]
[member="Darth Orcus"]
[member="Darth Veles"]
[member="Enyo Typhos"]
[member="Evangeline Ovmar"]
[member="Grundark"]
[member="Gunther Creed"]
[member="Haytham Kaze"]
[member="Jacen Cavill"]
[member="Juliet Varos"]
[member="Lassiter"]
[member="Matsu Xiangu"]
[member="Nerius"]
[member="Niysha"]
[member="Rhuza Kingpriest"]
[member="Seren Ordavo"]
[member="Shae Corvani"]
[member="Sinistra"]
[member="Siyndacha Aerin"]
[member="Tyro Ventari"]
[member="Viru Lentus"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective: Crisis #1 - Observe.
Location: Chalacta, nearby the Temple of Illumination.
Company: [member="Juliet Varos"] | [member="Shae Corvani"] | [member="Ameli Trahir"].

Posts: [01/20]

The Adepts of Chalacta were a curious sort.

Their resistance against mental intrusion and torture was the stuff of legends. It was strange, then, that an order founded on the principles of understanding and illumination of the unknown had reacted rather boldly when it came to Chalacta’s consideration to join the fold of the Triumvirate.

"I wonder if they are being manipulated." Carach suddenly spoke, while studying the Temple from a reasonable distance.

The Temple of Illumination garnered a lot of respect from the denizens of Chalacta and as a result nobody dared to build anything nearby it. There were a couple of villages scattered a few clicks away - places where the Adepts could restock on supplies and things like that, but beyond that? It was a sprawling plane with nothing in sight and in the middle of it the Temple.

"My Lord?" Thorne asked instinctively. He was still using the binoculars to scout out any movements, but that was about it for now. There was little to gain by storming the Temple right away.

"The Adepts aren’t known for wanton abduction." The Triumvir clarified after a moment. "It doesn’t seem to be like something they would do."

Thorne thought about it for a moment, before shrugging.

"Desperate men do desperate things, my Lord."

This wasn’t an unreasonable observation, of course. The Sith did not have a completely clean record in the Galaxy. So how would someone react to the news that their nation was seriously considering joining a nation ruled by Sith? Even if it seemed like said nation was more benign than most.

"I suppose, but still. I wonder if the One Sith is behind this."
"Possibly."
"Or perhaps the Republic."
"...the Republic, my Lord?"

Carach snorted.

"No need to feign surprise. After Roche it’s anyone’s guess what those bunch of lunatics are capable of."

 

[Lassiter]

Objective: Crisis #Whatever
People: None.
Post 1

“And I am trying to tell you-” The man began before the woman on the other end of the call hung up in his ear, turning his rant into a muted hiss. “Just fething great.”

The man in question was of course none other than Tregor Leon, one of the more ‘upstanding citizens’ on the surface of Chalacta. Obviously that was about as far from the truth as you could get, but he didn’t care. It was all about the money and the other dum-dums that made life funny, the big pleasures just as much as the small ones. He straightened the cuffs on his shirt, ran a hand through his golden blonde hair and gently rubbed his finger against his nose with snivel. The man was made by these streets, for these streets, and he would be damned if he wouldn’t look his best doing it.

With his communications device conveniently tucked into one of the inner pockets of his jacket he set off into the heat to seek today’s thrill. Something to make time pass, preferably something to work up a sweat with. Something redheaded, green-eyed and sitting by the bar just waiting for him to pick her up. He stepped inside the closest cantina, eyes scanning across the room for his match when he spotted her sitting there by the bar. A redhead with green eyes, her skin was perhaps a little pale but that only spoke of someone who wasn’t from around these parts, which most certainly was even more of an added bonus.

The woman begins to turn and look in his direction. His heart nearly stops as he watches her hair wave in the air like a dove made out of satin. He catches her, she catches him and without really thinking it through he abandons all pretensions on pulling any sweet moves or lines. He extends his arm in a crook and without uttering a single word she latches on.

A smile of contentment spreads on his lips, something far more wicked grew on hers.

“I think this is the start of a great business relationship.” The man spoke seemingly to himself.
“Oh, I agree. We’re going to have a lot of fun, Mister Leon.” He spoke once more under his breath.

His nightmare was only really just getting started.

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Objective: Crisis 1
Location: Chalactan Orbit, Immortal-class Dreadnought Storm's Eye
[member="Darth Adekos"] | [member="Darth Carach"]

Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.

Each step forward more difficult than the last. Immense pressure crushed down on his shoulders, compressing his spine and making every movement sluggish. He strained, muscles bulging, black eyes determined. One more step. One more-

"Receiving a transmission, Lord Orcus," proclaimed a disembodied voice

A whoosh of air left his lungs and he slammed his foot into the metal floor so hard he idly wondered if he'd left a dent.

"Restore gravity to within normal bounds," he rumbled. The great weight threatening to smash him flat disappeared in an instant.

Orcus snorted and collapsed into a swivel chair, the only furniture in the room, which he spun around to face the holoprojector. "Patch it through."

The face of a Weequay appeared, floating in the air, leathery features as unexpressive as a windless sea of sand. He wore a ridiculous sort of purple bandana wrapped around his head. Of course, Darth Orcus had no way of knowing if it was indeed a he. Weequays of both genders looked much the same.

"Greetings from the Splintered Chains," it rasped.

"The Splintered Chains? What happened to Janick?"

"Dead."

"Ah."

"I killed him."

Pirates. Orcus' black eyes rolled. No sense of class.

"Yes. Hauum. I gathered that much."

"The Splintered Chains no longer recognizes the compact with the Triumvirate," the Weequay rolled on. "It was made by a fool."

"I see..."

"I, Nok-Tey, have consulted long with the Lord of the Brooding Skies. I sacrificed a bull reek at the thal and had the entrails read."

Warrior cultures. So tiresome.

The pirate captain rolled on, voice as expressionless as his face. "And I was granted a sign from Am-Shak, god of thunder. The reek's liver was diseased. And so we shall have war."

"I believe I missed something."

Nok-Tey ignored him. "The Heavenly Storm bestowed on me the power of the lightning bolt and I shall hurl it against your ship lanes and against your merchants."

"We had an agreement." Orcus felt his flippers curling around the arms of the chair, felt the tightness in his chest, dangerously tense.

"Yes," Nok-Tey fixed Orcus with a level gaze. "I have altered the agreement. Pray I do not alter it further."

Black eyes flared wide with sudden fury, patience snapping like a metal string drawn too taut. Orcus opened his mouth to reply.

Click.

The hologram faded.

"The caller has hung up, m'lord."

* * *

"Did you just quote Vader to a Sith Lord?"

Nok-Tey waved off his second. Yonhe meant well, but she did not understand. "Yes, but it is of no consequence. The message has been delivered."

"Uh, yeah, but I think you might've pissed him off."

"Such is life." He turned to find the bridge crew shifting uncomfortably, trying not to stare and failing. "What?" He asked, a touch of ire sparking in the empty wastes of his features. "Do you all have jobs to do, or are you fools who wish to suffer a fools fate?"

Everyone knew what that meant. From the way the crew leapt to their tasks, it was clear that nobody wanted to get shanked in the chest by a freaking spear and then kicked out an airlock.

"Are we in range of the convoy?"

"Aye, captain."

"Then pull us out and commence the attack. And run up the new transponder codes. Let that convoy know who they should fear."

 

[Ameli Trahir]

Objective: Crisis #1 - Be reminded what the objective is again
Location: Chalacta, nearby the Temple of Illumination
Company: [member="Darth Carach"], [member="Juliet Varos"], [member="Shae Corvani"]
Posts: 1/20

Ameli didn't care much for Sith politics. Frankly, Ameli didn't care much for Sith in general. They were a thing. She was part of the thing. There wasn't much more to it. She was a woman governed by self-interest and spur of the moment whims. She was Sith, because she came from a Sith lineage. In the beginning she had cared little for their ideology, but it was slowly growing on her. She was at least emanating it more, perhaps a natural consequence from her growing connection to the Dark Side and lust for power. It seemed very appropriate considering her company. While slowly adopting the philosophy, she was far from adopting their dress code. Black robes. Yuck. As always, she was dressed in a more fashionable and colourful assortment.

One Sith, Two Sith, Three Sith, it didn't matter. She had stuck with the Ember of Vahl and her travel companion. Now their travels had taken them to Three Sith. She didn't know these people. At least she knew Carach. Somewhat. Loyalty was fickle, but she was at the very least here, doing stuff. What stuff was she doing? Now that was a question she hoped no one would ask her. If someone had told her, she had forgotten. She had never heard of this planet, she had never heard of their people. Were they killing them? She assumed they were killing them. Or something. She wondered if they would have to actually do anything, or could lean back and push buttons.

While Carach and Thorne started discussing, Ameli was characteristically distracted. She was walking back and forwards in the background while fighting her own battles. Right now that meant balancing the hilt of her lightsaber on the tip of her index finger without having it fall. Using the Force was not allowed. That was cheating. Ameli was listening to the strategy talk, but she heard nothing.

 

[Kira Corsai]

Objective: BYOO
Location: Jordir, Chalacta
Company: None so far.
Post: 1

Kira nodded off laying next to the pool, the warm sun beating down on her pale skin. She was going to burn more likely than not, and even though she could have sent her assistant for some cream, she had also decided that she didn't care. Lorta had requested she come to this meeting, if she was going to remain head of the Corsai Merchant House. Given the recent turmoil with the family succession, she had almost pushed the business off. It would have been so easy to just throw it all onto Dru or Denida. Tempting. Very tempting.

No, the Merchant House was more than a cover. It paid for Kira's other more expensive affairs. Giving up the business to her sisters meant finding a new source of income and balls to that. She could write off her gadgets, her staff, and her more clandestine activities as parts of legitimate business. Doors closed to her alone would open to the Corsai Merchant House. Much like this one. Chalacta had a number of luxury goods to sell to those who had an admiration for the spiritual world. Corsai Merchant House had plenty buyers lined up for the potential contract already. There was money to be made here, if she could shake the Sith off and slip back into the spy cover face.

She had just spent the last few months encased her armor daily, her patience tried being crammed in a munitions cruiser with a pair of women who she would have rather airlocked out the cargo bay. The mission to hunt down a mythical ship frayed the last bit of her patience and then she had been called to Kuat to find out that her darkest secret, the one greater than her secret identity had been discovered by her mother. Kira had been forced to kill her in order to stop her meddling but she was certain that one of her sisters was behind it. Only she didn't know which one and rather than risk showing her hand, she had to beat her sibling to the punch.

The odd shriek of a girl as she was splashed with water drew Kira out of her light sleep. Someone had moved an umbrella over her to dim the sun on her. A radio played music softly in the background as she closed her eyes and went back to sleep, the sheer wrap of green and gold tied around her waist to cover her dark brown swimwear.

As she adjusted her position on the chaise, a news report broke on the radio that the Prime Minister had been kidnapped by an unknown group, but details were still sketchy and police were looking for anyone with information about the PM's disappearance.

Kira didn't hear the report though, she was already asleep again.

 

[Krayn]

Crisis: #1
Location: The Old District of Jordir, Chalacta
Company: None as yet
Posts: [01|20]

“There have been reports of cargo movements in the nearby warehouses.” The voice of the protocol droid carried through the alleyway in which it stood with a stark echo that complimented the sheer silence of the surrounding district. “As you expected it is not scheduled departures.”
“Good.” The voice was distorted through the helmet that it came from, darkened in tone and almost made violent in nature, yet still it held something calm and controlling to it. “You were not seen.”
“Negative, I kept to the designated zones and was not noticed by the loading crews.” The droid answered as it’s gears churned slightly within its neck. “I also managed to assess the surrounds I believe there is a private entrance to the south of the hanger, only a solitary guard stands at the door.”
“Then that shall be my entrance.” The dark shroud moved with a sweep of cloak leaving the droid alone within the alley.

“Who in the galaxy do you think you are?” The Neimodian spat with a heavy accent as the armoured form approached from the nearby street. A blaster rifle raised enough to be considered a threat. “You can’t just come trouncing on up here and…” The blaster fell to the ground, his hands no longer able to hold them as they instead clawed at his throat.
“You stand in my way.” Belis’ hand extended with a closed fist, an invisible force pouring from the gesture through the force to take hold of the guard’s windpipe. “Now move.” With a wave of his hand the now lifeless form of the guard slammed into the nearby wall and slumped down to the ground with a heavy thud.
It only took the additional gesture of curled fingers and a rising arm to bring the locked private entrance away from it’s framework. A sickening metal crack followed the screeching of tortured metal allowing access to the warehouse within for the black armoured Sith Knight who was suddenly greeted with the stares of a dozen pirate workers from within.
For them death had come.

 

[Spark Finn]

Objective: crisis 1
Location: Spaaaaaaace with [member="Darth Orcus"] #fangirlingitup

Long story short, after an Alliance mission gone wrong, Spark Finn was #'persuaded' to work with [member="Darth Adekos"]. The persuasion remained in the form of semi-prisoner/almost free-agent/still converse-wearing hipster. But after surviving some jungle planet test of the darth, the technopath earned a little more freedom. #alongerleash

And that meant meeting and working with a freakin Sith Lord whale.

#omgee!!

One of Adekos' shuttles maneuvered to the Lord Orcus' Dreadnaught, piloted by one of Adekos' well paid men. The gangly-blonde caught a glimpse of what they were about to be swallowed up by from the viewport. Sandy-brows rose as her mind already lurched forward, sensing the ships' systems through technometry. A skill that was almost as synonymous to breathing for the slicer.

The ship looked and felt impressive.

#Whalesgotstyle

The blonde sensed a familiar presence, just a blip separated by great distance. She wasn't good at sensing other force users but because this man had at one time altered the make-up of her mind, she'd always be able to pick up on when he was around. [member="Darth Carach"]

Employee/pilot Bob hailed for permission to land. "Message for Lord Orcus. I've got a resource from Lord Adekos he thought you'd might want to use. Her name's Spark Finn and she's good with...," he referred to his notes, "systems...uh....tech-stuff. Wizar- I mean force user. Permission to come aboard?"

 

[Mythos]

Objective: Huh? What's this?

Location: Midvinter- Intelligence Quarter of the Dojo.

"My Lord, we have something"

Mythos heard the voice, almost reluctantly so. News these days were more clues than anything else yet when you orchestrated the takeover of a planet no matter how subtly Sith Agents picked it up somewhere. "What do you have now?" Mythos replied to Lee, this captain and right hand man during his absence in recent events of the galaxy.

"Movement in Chalcata, the Trumvirate expands and according to our questioning blackwater moves with them, the ties between them have been confirmed to us, Sith Agents these days are not payed what they were used to after the rise of Mephiri-"

"We do not speak that name here.... Lee... or anywhere" Mythos cut him off instantly with a raised hand. First his meditation had been interrupted, the cold water on his back beating still as he rose from it, the cavern beating an oppressive cold upon his body and now his memory was alive with the image of the one who left a scar in the order that had not yet fully healed. He arose from his meditation, put the cloak of a Ge'jornsklad that he had killed, it's fur and leather warming his limbs instantly and he made his way back to the intelligence quarter.

The intelligence center was small, but high tech keeping a record of all agents in payroll and those still loyal and a virtual library of whatever surveillance they recorded. The map of the galaxy showed the red dot on Chalcata and it zoomed in denoting areas of high risk in the sector.
"Send a Squad from Dagobah to the sector, orders are to observe and report back nothing else, am I clear?"

"Yes Sir"

The Kai moved rapidly around the compound and relayed their brethren in Dagobah the orders of their Lord, Mythos locked eyes with the map as if visualizing the troop positions and imaginary assets they had scattered around, the supply lines, logistics and ship positions. Yet he knew none of these things... his was aim to find out. It would not be done in a day... but it would be done none the less...

 

[Krayn]

Crisis: #1
Location: The Old District of Jordir, Chalacta
Company: None as yet
Posts: [02|20]

“Cassius.”
There was a worry about the tone of the young man who had entered the room behind him. An unnerving hint that was being portrayed far to easily for one who called themselves a member of the Splintered Chains.
“What?” The burly human, dark in complexion and thick in build spat as his form turned to face the younger and far less intimidating speaker. “I was told I wasn’t to be interrupted.” He caught the other’s eyes falter towards the three naked Twi’lek girls who stood against the far wall, each doing their best to stand as straight as they could.
“I…I apologise Master but…” His stare had moved now away from the Twi’lek girls and had settled on Cassius himself, his manhood and stark bareness exposed in its entirety, about to take what was his by the right of his position.
“Spit it out boy.” He closed the gap between them, a nerve twitching in his forehead. His large arm grabbing hold of the human’s neck and launching him into the nearby wall where he held him with his full body strength. “Or do I need to force it out of you. Twi’lek or not I will be satisfied doing it either way.”
“No, no, I’m sorry Cassius it’s just that the hanger…” He tried to struggle but was pushed harder into the wall for his efforts. “…It seems to be under attack.”
The death grip faded. “Under attack? By who? The Silent Mynocks? The Red Kathar? Neither would dare, neither would try, not today.”
“It is not a gang per say.” The boy rubbed his neck as Cassius moved towards the far wall and shoved one of the Twi’lek’s aside in order to get to the pile of clothes he had on the floor.
“Not a gang?” He pulled on his pants, before reaching for a shirt. “Speak sense.”
“It is a lone assailant, one who has…” He gulped. “Killed everyone according to the security feed.”
“Everyone?” Cassius reached for his blaster, attaching it to his waist. “How can everyone be dead? I put our best men on that shipment.”
“See for yourself.” The boy handed him a data pad where a small security feed had started to play.

———

“I want ten men in there now and clear the hanger.” Cassius stood outside of the main facility with a throng of pirates around him, each armed with whatever they could get their hands on. Yet all seemed perplexed by the word that someone or something had ended the guards within the hanger proper. “The rest of us will go in from the private entrance, catch them off guard and take them down.”
“Move out.” A Weequay, large and gruff shouted causing the group to scatter. Cassius heading with the secondary group around the rear of the room to where the private entrance showed clear signs of forced entry.
“That door? It’s been pulled clean off.” One of the other pirates said with a worried sigh. “What could have—“
“Explosives you fool. I highly doubt there is only one of them, it is just fear tactics. Now move in.” Cassius explained as the pirates moved into the hanger with determination.
A vast emptiness filled their sights, bodies lay scattered across the floor, sparks were still flying from where blaster fire had impacted against electronic mechanisms and machinery. Yet it was the silence that chilled the air.
“Get a report from team one.” Cassius said to a nearby Rodian who moved to a nearby terminal. His Huttese voice cutting through the air as he tried to get hold of the first team.
A burst of blaster fire carried across the connection the Rodian had made, but only for a moment before falling silent.
“The ship.” Said a voice. “The ship it’s empty.”
“Check it, make sure Tralos is still alive.” The voice of the Weequay ordered. “The attacker must still be inside somewhere —”
A sizzle and hum sounded, shouts, a thump, repeated blaster fire, a prolonged thrum, rising and falling, a series of shouts and screams.
“Ior!.” One of Cassius’ team cried in dismay. “Ior!”
Cassius cursed.
“What happened here.” The Rodian said with a thick accent as he turned around from the terminal. “What’s that sound?”
The rising thrum dredged memories from the back of Cassius’ mind.
“It’s a lightsaber,” He said. The sound of the blade had been seared into his head during the invasion of Coruscant, when the Sith had wielded them; Sith doing things that no ordinary being could do. He had been a Republic trooper then, so very long ago. “Is there more to the recording?”
Another thump, then another. More alarmed shouts. Only two or three blasters were firing, enough to allow them to feel the desperation of the team as the recording continued. Cassius moved to disconnect the connection.
More shouts, the crash of something heavy, and still the hum of the lightsaber, rising and falling.
“Kill it!” The Weequay known as Ior could again be heard shouting, and the sound of rapid blaster fire filled the recording again.
The hum of the lightsaber rose and fell, and Cassius imagined the blade deflecting the blaster shots. He’d seen it before, Abruptly the shots stopped. A strangled gasp came over the recording. Ior, choking.
“He’s being strangled!” A Neimodian said from behind Cassius.
“The choking went on for seconds that felt like hours, Ior’s dying gasps making Cassius want to turn off the connection again, but he couldn’t. Cutting it would feel like abandoning Ior.
“Tell me what I want to know,” said a deep voice, the attacker’s voice. “And your death will be easier.”
They heard a pained gasp and a deep inhalation, followed by Ior cursing the attacker in Huttese.
“Very well,” The voice said.
Ior gagged again, gasped, and went silent. Then a thump sounded, something heavy but soft falling to the floor.
“Cut it off, Cassius!” One of the pirates said.
Cassius stared at the terminal, open and still controlled by the Rodian. The attacker’s footsteps grew louder, as if he had picked up the communication device that had been on Ior to study it or hold it close to his face.
“Cut it, Cassius.”
Cassius realised he was holding his breath. He seemed unable to breath.
There was only the sound of an artificial respiration, regular as a pendulum. Loud. Ominous.
Cassius finally got ahold of himself and exhaled, thinking of Ior, the awful gasps that had been the last sounds his friend had made.
“Your allies are dead.” The attacker said, and the words made Cassius wince. The Rodian slammed his hand onto the terminal, cutting the recording short.
Silence.
“Cassius, we should go.” The young boy who had come to him at his office said. “Right now.”
Cassius knew however it was already to late. If they fled they’d end up exactly like Ior and his team; pursued, caught, and executed.
“No, we can’t run.” He gripped his blaster tighter. “That monster is still in here somewhere and I we need to remove him.”
The team seemed to sigh a collective sigh. Several beginning to turn and move backwards towards the door.
“We ain’t dying for this.”
“Wait—“
“I disagree.” The voice of the attacker sounded as the head of the furthest pirate fell to the ground and rolled away from his crumpled body. “You are going to die for this.”

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Crisis 1
[member="Spark Finn"] | [member="Darth Carach"] | [member="Mythos"]

"Permission granted. Proceed to hangar section b-22. You're expected," replied the air traffic controller.

The Immortal-class battleship could fulfill a number of actual combat functions, but it did nothing so well as loom; its hangar engulfing the small craft like the mouth of a leviathan.

A pair of guards stood waiting when the shuttle's ramp extended. Big guards, these. Brawny Herglics from Giju, with patches on their shoulders. A black fin on green water. Darkwater.

Anyone with a functioning brain and access to the holonet knew that Darkwater Security was tied to the Triumvirate. The fact that there were Herglic security guards equipped with Herglic Trade Empire gear and wearing Darkwater Security patches guarding dozens of Triumvirate installations and high ranking executives might have been clue number one. Clue number two? The CEO of Darkwater Security, Lord Orcus, was also a Sith Triumvir. Oh, and he did interviews with holonews organizations. Regularly.

In fact, he'd just done one not a week past. Something to do with a gruesome mass murder at an orphanage he owned on Coruscant. It had engendered quite a bit of sympathy and popular support.

"We'll escort Agent Finn to Lord Orcus," said the purpler of the two Herglics.

Should she choose to follow the two cetacean mercenaries they would escort her out of the hangar, up a turbo lift, and into Orcus' meditation chamber, where he still sat seated. (Though by this time he'd donned a proper shirt in the name of common decency.)

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Crisis 2
Location: Chalacta Orbit
[Post 1]

The galaxy was never shy of...movements, changes. Long had it been since the Sith Lord had pledged any form of loyalty to a conglomeration of other Sith that were guided by entities he knew and respected. The streak was not exactly broken upon his affiliation with the Sith Triumvirate, but that was largely due to the fact he knew nothing of [member="Darth Adekos"]. [member="Darth Carach"] and [member="Darth Orcus"] were both familiar to him for a variety of reasons. In the end of the day, his loyalty was born out of a respect for the purpose and motivation of the organization. Then again, he supposed the One Sith had managed to charter noble beginnings too.

Drifting...that was what Cameron did these days. He pursued efforts that engaged his interest and challenged him until, well, they didn't. In that regard, Cameron supposed he was the best and worst kind of supporter to have. The First Order had discovered that as so many others had, though his departure from that particular government was motivated much more by personal reasons than anything else. He was also fairly certain that Sieger Ren was going to drive that particular organization right over the edge of the cliff of failure in short order.

At present, however, Cameron's silver-green eyes stared intently at the blue-hued image presented before him. The Sith Lord did not know the official conveying information to him. A lackey of Darth Adekos, he presumed.

"Do you accept this tasking, Darth Ashmedai?"

With his arms folded over his chest, Cameron inhaled steadily before responding. "Let me get this straight. The Prime Minister's office is reporting that they've lost extended contact with the Prime Minister. His security detail cannot be reached, and attempts to locate the individual at their primary residences have failed. Darth Adekos, via his illusive proxy, is requesting my assistance."

"That's not what I sa---"

Cameron cut the man off, intelligent decision or not, with a raised hand followed immediately by a verbal retort. "Rhetorical. I'm aware he did not frame it in the form of a request."

The man in the blue-hued image glowered at the Sith Lord, though his expression was no doubt minimized by the holographic connection. "Mind your tongue, Darth Ashmedai. The Adepts of Chalacta are believed by the government to be the likely perpetrators."

Cameron's expression remained impassive. "I will see to this...negotiation. Is there anything further?"

"No. You are dismissed, Darth Ashmedai." The connection was immediately terminated.

Cameron laughed softly to himself as he shook his head. Unfolding his arms, the Sith Lord picked up his communicator and spoke to the Captain in charge of the Triumvirate Trooper Company that Cameron had been training and operating with over the last month and a half. "We're going to the Temple of Illumination, Captain."

"Orders, sir?"

"Suspected hostage negotiation."

"Negotiation, sir?"

"We brief in twenty, SP in thirty."

"Yes sir."

The Sith Lord stowed his communicator and returned to his terminal to pull up on the latest intelligence on the Adepts of Chalacta and the Temple of Illumination. Specifically, Cameron just needed to know if they had information on defenses that might do things like...blow ships out of the sky easily. However, given the reality of Triumvirate forces already on the ground, the Sith Lord had a feeling that wouldn't be a terribly difficult concern to mitigate through tactics.

Oh plus...Cameron had no intention of negotiating with anyone.

 

[Faith Organa]

Ambassador Faith Organa was meeting with the Representative of the Chalatan government she was preparing to offer a trade agreement between Chalacta and Alderaan when word came that there could be Sith on the planet.

Faith looked at the dark skinned Ambassador who currently sat across from her, "This can't be good" Faith got up and moved to a window to look upon the city, and then her gaze went to the skies. She looked over to the one person she allowed in the room [member="Max Fel"] . She knew she had to get with her guards to move about and make way to the spaceport for departure.

Faith looked at Max she moved over to speak with him, "It will take time to get back to the shuttle, and troops may be every where quickly." Faith had something on her mind, something that could help the Republic at some point. Try to get an assessment on the Sith, [member="Draco Vereen"] was not going to be happy with her.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: Something Completely Different
Location: Jordir, Commercial District
Company: Metanecron

Posts: [02/20]

The warehouse was easy enough to find. Compared to some other commercial districts e had visited, this one was rather tame. For instance, there weren't roving bands of private mercenaries beating the tar out of vagrants or those who had fallen behind on their debt payments. Jordir's commercial district was much nicer. There was only one level to the city and all the buildings had a very tasteful architecture. Most of them. The farther he got into the district, the less reputable it became and the more the buildings looked like every other run down slum in the galaxy. Squat, grey, rectangular buildings. Shorter than the rest of the city to make sure they didn't mar the skyline, of course.

Eventually Adekos found the dull building designated in the datapad and entered. Inside was a sort of ramshackle checkpoint manned by a pair of thuggish Gran. They might have been brothers. Most aliens looked the same, so it was hard to tell. They looked like they were about to hassle him for an entrance fee or who had invited him, but one look at the lightsaber clipped to his belt and the two foreboding figures lurking behind him changed their attitude. Better to forgo the usual shakedown routine and avoid getting either Mind Tricked or a saber through the gut. Without so much as a pat down or a hello, Darth Adekos walked past the guards and entered the impromptu-auction hall's main area.

If only everyone were so wise, then Adekos could handle the business of running this country without any issues.

 

[Spark Finn]

Objective: Crisis 1
Location: With [member="Darth Orcus"] #fangirlingitup

Gray-blue eyes bulged beneath glass lenses at the herglics. Reading about them and seeing them on the holonet was certainly different than seeing them in real life. #irl Spark's escort addressed the herglics.

"Very well. I'll stay with the ship. As per my contract, I have to say something along the lines of, if anything happens to her Lord Adekos will not be pleased and will deal with Lord Orcus personally."

Personally probably meant sending a bunch of army droids after the Sith Lord orphanage owner or perhaps just sitting down to brunch and letting Orcus get stuck with the bill. Seemed more of Adekos' style. #jaded

Converse-clad feet scurried to keep up with the mercs and their lumbering steps. It didn't help that the ship's decking vibrated with each step the pair of giants took. By the time she stood before THE Lord Orcus, her black-rimmed glasses had fallen down half the bridge of her freckled-nose.

The slicer ogled him a moment. She heard reports of him when she was a padawan on Manaan. Or was it Alderaan? Her memories of that time period would always be fuzzy thanks to Carach. #thanksOCarach

Throat cleared in a semi-squeak. Glasses were pushed up to their proper place. Fingers clutched around a datapad she forgot she was holding.

#keepittogether

"Spark Finn at your service," did she shake a flipper? Hands remained clutched around the datapad like it was her lifeline. "Lord Adekos told me you've been having some local pirate trouble?"

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Crisis 2
Entering Chalacta Atmosphere
Post 2/20

"Sir, Chalks 1-1 and 1-2 have arrived at the staging area. The operations staff we left onboard the ship are set up in the joint operations center as well. No current movement reported outside the area of the Temple, but it's...not an ideal situation. The entire Temple is relatively exposed, no obvious external defenses. Based on the information we have on the Adepts of Chalacta, I doubt they're extremely well-versed in combat."

Cameron's gaze slowly tracked in the direction of the Captain, whom was speaking to him via headsets they both wore in the troop compartment of the Sekairo-class transport. "Do not be so quick to pass judgment, Captain. Those that follow the teachings of the Sith are no less beholden to a path believed to deliver the ultimate reward than the Adepts of Chalacta." Cameron paused for a moment. "Methods differ, but the tenacity of zealots is never something to be doubted." As a former False-God of the Moross Crusade, Cameron knew the reality of that all too well.

"We'll perform as trained, sir. Chalks 2-1, 2-2, 3-1, and 3-2 have created self-containment plans for these cardinal points of the Temple. Following insertion, all shuttles will loiter in the area as able for close air support and await dust-off."

The Sith Lord nodded slightly, though the bulk of his attentions had shifted to what he sensed on the ground below. Gradually, the darkness of his presence spread forth, feeling the lives on the various Sekairo-class transports preparing to enter the atmosphere of the planet. "As briefed..." Cameron slowly tracked his gaze back in the direction of the Captain. "Do you know why I selected the unit with the newest company commander to train with weeks ago?"

"No sir."

"Eagerness to perform, and it is much easier to fill a cup that is largely empty. You know what to do, and we've briefed the plan. Ease your mind otherwise when things inevitably go sideways, you will be incapable of adequately improvising. Oh and Captain...action beats reaction. Once the perimeter is set, deploy the augment Chalk from observation to assist in clearing the facility."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the shuttle began to shake violently as they began to enter the friction of Chalacta's atmosphere.

 

[Caulder Dune]

Objective: Something Completely Different
Location: Jordir, Commercial District
Company: Metanecron, Assorted Underworld Crooks

Posts: [03/20]

As mentioned previously, the warehouse's main space had been hastily converted into something resembling a traditional auction house. There were a few clusters of chairs and tables, almost all of them mismatched and in varying states of disrepair. Very few of them had anyone actually seated at them. Most of the seated entities were Hutts. Someone had once told him that the larger a Hutt was, the more power and respect that Hutt had. Adekos had never bothered to fact check that, because Hutts were disgusting creatures that he wanted nothing to do with- not even in the capacity of research. That said, if it was true, then the Hutts here were of little power and standing in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps that said something about the overall significance of this auction, if the mismatched furniture hadn't already.

Like the majority of the assembled guests, Darth Adekos opted to remain standing. The auction had not yet started, so he took the opportunity to scroll through the contents of his datapad. Lots 49, 50, and 51 were the ones he was after. It appeared that Byzus had misspoken when he said the whole set, but the subset of ones that he actually wanted were here. Albeit, all on separate lots and all towards the end of the auction. How infuriating. Really, this was not a particularly interesting sequence of events. Most situations in life, even one as long and excruciating as Adekos', were not of great interest to anyone. Except for the moments where he was fighting or, if the reader was particularly masochistic, pontificating for hours on end to people and apprentices who did not actually care. But this was neither of those situations, and onlookers could rest assure that this would almost certainly be a dull series of uninteresting events.

"Hey," A young Zeltron man tapped Adekos on the shoulder. "You wanna buy some Deathsticks?"

 

[Gorba the Hutt]

Crisis 1
[member="Spark Finn"] | [member="Haytham Kaze"]

Eyes of fathomless black looked the bespectacled blonde human up and down. Hard to believe this was the one who'd held Adekos to bay on Belgaroth, but sometimes the biggest surprises came from the smallest parcels. A grim smile cracked through wide lips, exposing a row of enormous, conical teeth.

Orcus rose from his seat and extended a massive flipper.

"Welcome, Miss Finn," a rich and impossibly deep, thrumming voice. "I must say, you're shorter than I expected."

A glimmer of humor in the dark of those eyes.

"Apologies, the pirates you mentioned have put me in somewhat of a mood." He clacked his teeth loudly. "Your assistance, however, is welcome. I hear you are quite adept with computation? I need you to analyze the attacks of the pirate group known as the Splintered Chains. There's a pattern to their raids, I'm certain. It would be of invaluable aid if you could pinpoint the system from which they operate."

They had to operate out of somewhere, after all. A space station to which they might return, or a moon base, or even a large, orbiting cargo ship. Their raids could only range so far, giving them a radius to trace back. A limitation to measure.

 

[Krayn]

Crisis: #1
Location: The Old District of Jordir, Chalacta
Company: None
Posts: [03|20]

The constant hum of the swinging lightsaber had stopped, replaced only with the dull and prolonged thrum as the crimson red blade of Belis’ weapon sat relaxed near the sweating and crippled form of Cassius.
“Just kill me already.” Finger’s pried around his outstretched leg, the knee joint displayed at an uncomfortable angle. “Finish your job.”
“No.” The voice, imposing and deepened by the mask from which it hid behind filled Cassius mind, physically and mentally it assaulted his senses.
“Why not!?” A nerve twitched in the large man’s dark forehead, sweat pouring down his face. “You’ve won, why not end it!”
“Because death is not your fate.” The lightsaber retreated into the hilt within the gloved hands of the dark warrior. “Not while you still have use to me.”
Cassius screamed. Something invisible had taken hold of him, pulling at his wounded leg, twisting it and cracking it. With a solid sound the screaming stopped, replaced only with the panting breath of the wounded pirate.
“I have reset your leg.” The day armoured form turned his back on Cassius whose eyes stared up at the cloak with vengeful anger. “Now rise and take me to the shipments.”
“The shipments?” Cassius refused to rise, the pain in his leg still too much to warrant the effort. “All this for shipments?”
Belis reached out with his will again, taking hold of the pirate and lifting him to his feet with the Force, ignoring the painful yells as he did. “Yes the shipments.”

———

“I don’t understand why you did this you know.” Cassius said grudgingly as he began to click the locks on one of the large crates he and the armoured Sith had come too. “These shipments are useless a trick designed to con the Repub…” His eyes widened as the lid came clean.
“The trick it seemed was not on the Republic.” Belis approached and towered above the pirate. “How many crates do you have?” Black eyes belonging to his helmet cast their sights on the contents of the crates, a hidden smile slowly spreading beneath the armoured visage.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Crisis 2
Location: Chalacta Atmosphere -> Temple of Illumination
Allies: 140 Triumvirate Troopers

The quintet of Sekairo-class Transports remained in a tight formation as they angled out away from the Temple of Illumination. At present, they were flying roughly three thousand meters above ground level. The moment that the flight crew indicated they had reached the Initial Point for the assault profile, all five vessels entered a steep dive towards the deserted plains below. As each vessel neared the minimum decision height at which they could avoid crashing, they snap-rolled in different directions, engaged their stealth technology, and pulled up sharply to stay right around one hundred meters above ground level.

In the troop compartment of his own vessel, Cameron's eyelids covered his bright orbs. He was fully aware that his own rolling presence would negate the stealth technology on the vessel in which he rode, but that was purposeful. For the time being, his focus was on seeing and feeling the Force around him. Silently, he allowed the varied currents of the life-binding energy to drift through his body. As it did so, the Sith Lord influenced it as he would one of his own appendages. Were he not completely immersed in the Force, he would have felt his own shuttle began rapidly climbing skyward.

Outside of Cameron and the Captain's shuttle, the skies overhead had begun to darken swiftly. Tendrils of lightning illuminated the rapidly building cloud layer as a heavy rain began to fall over a large swath of the planet. Naturally, effecting the weather over the entirety of the planet would have drained the Sith Lord...very quickly. Instead the effect extended a simple kilometer in a three hundred and sixty degree arc from the Sith Lord's position.

In roughly twenty minutes time, the other four transports were preparing to make their final approach to the target area. Given the amount of exposure around the Temple of Illumination, the flight crews maintained their nap-of-the-earth approach the entire time. As they all reached predetermined points, the flight crews expertly manipulated their sublight drives and repulsors to rapidly slow the transports to a speed suitable for deploying their embarked Troopers. By the time the first boots from the four, twenty-man perimeter teams, the vessel carrying Cameron Centurion had arrived high overhead the facility, orbiting lazily amidst the volatile weather.

Opening his eyes, Cameron smirked at the Captain. "I'm going for a walk, Captain. Good hunting - set the example of our resolve early...they will either submit or perish." Coming to his feet, Cameron swiftly made his way to the rear cargo door before depressing the control to cycle it open. Before it was even completely open, the large Sith Lord vaulted out into the air and began diving towards the ground.

The moment Cameron had disembarked, the shuttle began a high-energy descent towards the objective and one of the support shuttles from the staging area departed to deliver additional personnel to the assault team.