Operation Silent Night (Alliance vs. Black Empire)

[Fen]

Alliance and Allies - PM For Invite and briefing

The Leviathan-class monitor Laras slid through space, utterly silent. The control room of the operations compartment was abuzz with activity.

“Coming in range of Panathan scanners.”

“SCD status?” Asked the captain, peering over the shoulder of one officer.

“Active and functioning at full capacity, sir.”

The SCD, or Stygium Cloaking Device, made the hundred meter long ship invisible to scanners and the naked eye. Such a device could be defeated by the active searching of a crystal-gravfield trap, but the Leviathan was also equipped with a gravitic modulator to counter the CGT. Combining the former two with tight beam engines, ion bafflers, reflec coating and a host of other systems the Leviathan-class was on the cutting edge of Alliance stealth technology.

“Bring us in.”

Utilizing only passive sensors, the Leviathan crept toward the blue-ringed orb of Panatha.

“Arm torpedoes.”

In the torpedo room, which normally housed anti-capship assault concussion missiles, the ‘ordnance’ began clambering into the tubes: two men in full orbital insertion suits. Others waited behind them.

Jedi Master Ryan Korr took a deep breath inside his fully vacuum sealed suit from where he lay inside the tube. Underneath the suit he wore only traditional robes and heavy cloak. He needed to move fast and light and when need be present himself inconspicuously. For the past week he had been training in reducing the size of his Force signature to a pinprick.

They’d assured him that the personal deflector shields on the insertion suits would prevent him from burning to a crisp on entering atmosphere. He hoped they were right.

“Torpedoes ready, sir.”

“Launch.”

The sudden acceleration and subsequent G-forces nearly caused Ryan to black out. His stomach climbed into his throat and he tasted bile. The sudden silence of the void was deafening and all he heard was his panicked, adrenaline clogged breaths. And then the giant sphere of Panatha was looming before him. He grit his teeth.

Somewhere out there in the blackness with him was [member="Darron Wraith"] and a handful of other individuals chosen specifically for this mission. Alliance command issued strict orders to maintain radio silence until they reached the landing zone. And Korr couldn’t risk stretching out to sense their presences.

He felt a terrible sense of isolation in this vast vacuum as he dropped toward the most feared fortress planet in the galaxy.

[member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Astarii Saren"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

There was a debt that was owed. And it's trustee, as far as Gabe knew, existed perpetually on the world of Panatha. As soon as he heard there was an opportunity to strike out at the planet, once part of the influence of the One Sith, he knew he had to be a part of this. If not to combat the influence of the darkside, at the very least he could over come the dreams that haunted his slumber. Visions of stakes, driven deep into the palms, gave him pause as he turned the lights off.

A dream that always welcomed him.

He never knew failure, in this life, like he did on Lujo. To foresee the future, to be provided visions of what might occur, only to see it unfold before him: the shame draped over him like a black curtain, blotting out the light. The Marshals were here for the lightside, for the presence of freedom and righteousness and the propensity to choose. So long as that didn't delve into the corruption of the darkside that seemed to so eloquently define the limits of Panatha, all was right. But as Gabe waited for a chance to be blasted into orbit, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was a simple thing. Vengeance.

He wouldn't be haunted by this anymore. He wouldn't wake from that sleep, cold and clammy. And never again would his hand pause at the draw of a lightsaber. He would recall that dark cave not as the moment of his failure, but a moment of rebirth. That he was tempted by the guidance of loss and instead of accepting it, he turned away and showed persistance. After all, without full talent, that was all one might have. And he had an abundance.

Beneath the vacuum sealed suit rested a suit of Vanguard Armor. And a lightsaber and pistol. He figured he would need the former but he kept the latter for safe keeping. Never felt right leaving home without the dissuader. Closing his eyes as he prepared, he recalled observing the fortress of Panatha in another life. Through one eye, he looked upon the precipice of the fire stricken world. Never had he recalled a place more torn by nature itself, a molten world that was forever at odds with habitation. He recalled the innards of the castle, the way it felt and how it was steeped in the darkside.

And finally, it was his turn and he stepped in. Feeling the pressure change as the tube was sealed, the initiation was announced. He couldn't hear the timer, he could only think of home. He'd like to think that he proceeded in desire to protect those he loved. But if selfishness was at the helm, he wasn't sure he would mind.

He heard the words Launch. And the G-force took over. He went into this mission desiring success, though he had no idea of it's measure. But without it, he would appreciate this simple gesture.

[member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="Darron Wraith"]​

 

[Darron Wraith]

Broad shoulders were pressed firmly against the tube, they cylinder not giving at all to any of his efforts. Every breath was a chore, the sound of the respirator feeding him oxygen remained his focal point. Any slight adjustment he tried to make was met with the firmest of resistance, from his boots all the way up. His helmed face was the only thing that had any mobility, but his eyes were closed tighter than the air lock. Being a large, agile man was great on the battlefield. The rare blend allowed him to do many things most couldn’t, and the natural talent had only been further highlighted as his body had grown and developed. Controlled effort kept those muscles relaxed, so that he could have so modicum of freedom, just a centimeter of give so that he knew he wasn’t fully enclosed. With the world cut off from him, he was just a large man in a suit designed to keep him alive during the descent. Keeping his senses closed only made him feel truly isolated, but the memories of his past could do that on their own.

Faces of the loved, the lost, and the fallen went at lightpeed across his minds eye. Sounds of battle rang his mind as loudly as a war drum, their screams reverberating through him. Injustices of every type came to the forefront, and their authors coming to the forefront. Battles from the past, mixed with some he knew one day he would fight in rolled across the mental track. Opponents that had fallen at his hand laid their invisible hands on him, a sign of respect for the honor with which he had taken them down. They knew he fought to save them, to save all life. Darron felt no anger, but he kept firmly in mind the reason he was in that tube wearing Vanguard armor under a suit designed to keep him from burning up in during the descent. Wraith knew why Mace Windu’s lightsaber was on his belt, and why despite the ghosts of the past and his own life he was there to continue fighting the fight he had fought for a century.

Jedi were the defenders of the peace, and the best defense sometimes was offense.

Every ounce of air was sucked out of his lungs, his arms fighting to stay across his chest as he was launched out. Blood was being pulled from his brain by the G-force, but there would be no calling on the Force as he willed himself to fall forward and open his arms. Without the very essence of life flowing through him, he felt both very small, but alive at the same time. Azure eyes opened for the first time, and he noticed little drops of sweat inside his visor. Had they not been operating on radio silence, his comrades would have heard him release a small chuckle. Darron had never been to Panatha, but he had longed to stop it’s Master.

Gone were his feelings of claustrophobia, instead he let himself fully enjoy the moment as the adrenaline freely flowed. Falling into formation with the others, he made sure to not cross trails with the others. The dense clouds made visibility tricky, and despite their advanced HUD displays, maneuverability wouldn’t be their strong point. Any possible thought of a counter attack at this point were at the back of his mind. That war drum was banging in his head for battle, for the thrill of conflict and battle. Wraith lived to fight the darkness with his own, to keep those he could safe.

Another bit of laughter, the warrior was at home. Battle was near.


Julius Sedaire | Darth Carnifex | Astarii Saren | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Ryan Korr"]

 

[Liliane]

In silence, one could find peace. But that was definitely not the case this time, on that night, on Panatha.

The former One Sith world molded in corruption and darkness was a place many feared and which many more didn't dare to remember. Home to the species of Epicanthix, it was no longer the safe home for those species. Instead, it had turned into a planet full of lies and darkness, cruelty and pain. And that was all because of one person, because of one citadel on the planet.

Vain Hollow.

She hated that.

The Jedi Master had joined the mission to attack the planet and its brutal tyrants. How she had been picked, she had no idea, but she didn't have anything against this. If they were successful, they could cause serious damage to the darkness of this Outer Rim planet and that is exactly what Lilin fought for.

Wearing a simple Jedi robe in the colour of maroon, both of her lightsabers, a blaster and a medallion her grandfather had given her, she was ready to fight. Of course the woman was so poor in Force usage that she couldn't completely mask her Force presence -- instead, she decided to mask as much as she could and use a medallion which would give her a Dark Side presence instead. The combination made her look like a Sith.

Ugh how she hated that medallion, though. She would get rid of that as soon as the operation was over.

It was odd to be thrown out from the torpedo tubes, but she didn't see it as a problem. After all, she was not claustrophobic. As long as her health was not in danger, this would not make her panic. She had her vacuum sealed suit on, so there wasn't much bad that could happen to her.

And it was soon her time to step in.

So it all began.

[ [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] ]​

 

[Djorn Bline]

The call of duty was one thing that the clone could never ignore or run away from. When the news were unveiled that the Alliance would strike at the den of an infamous tyrant and Sith Lord, Canal unhesitatingly volunteered for this mission. Indeed, he had a long leave of absence from his service to the military, one that he needed to take after so many years of nonstop fighting on many worlds ever since they took him out of that tube of his on Kamino. But even during his leave some part of him, a part that demanded and had a fiery lust of being in the dangers of warfare, bothered him and made his free time very uneasy. That spirit within him got what it wanted when the soldier returned to battle at Dulvoyinn. He didn't really contributed that much to the battle, but he fought with valor and honor.

And now he was back to serve the values and ideals he was engineered and trained to uphold no matter the cost.

He was eager and more than ready to set afoot on the dark, painful, scarred, and desolated world of Panatha that just saying the name of that planet gave people chills and rid of all the happiness and joy in a person. Was Canal scared? No, he wasn't. After having so many barrels pointed at him, after seeing his comrades dying and sustains critical injuries, after many years of fighting for the Confederacy of Independent Systems, the Omega Protectorate, and the Alliance the thought of losing a limb or having a last breath of life didn't scare him. He was, arguably, the perfect soldier anyone could have due to the Kaminoans altering his genetics so that he could become a dominant warrior with a sharp mind and a strong body.

Beneath his vacuum sealed suit was his personal suit of armor coated with Nightshadow for this special mission, a Czerka phrik combat knife, a DC-17m interchangeable rifle, and two dual WESTAR 35 pistols he entered the torpedo tube when it was his turn. It wasn't often he landed planetside via torpedo, but he wasn't unfamiliar with it either. He remembered the rush of adrenaline, the fast beating of his heart, and the flow of blood to his head whenever he made entrances like this.

"Launch," was all what the Fett clone could hear before dropping to the lair of the God-King of Panantha.

[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Darron Wraith"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Darth Carnifrex"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Julius owed Darron. That much as simply put and obvious. So when he had managed to catch wind of the operation, he had volunteered readily. One could not sit back and let life pass him by. Talent and ability demanded action, a duty to others of a sort. While his optimism may never return as it once was, he could not deny that he was made for this. The chaos of war was as lifeblood to him, but in a way far different from the despot below they came to disrupt. No glory or gold did he seek in this mission. Indeed it was for the life that may be saved he ignited the blazing silver saber clipped inside his vaccum sealed suit. Only for that did he wield it, or so he had promised himself.

Taking a step, he slid into the tube with only a slightly cocky wink to the operator, and settled in. An MP-1 with the lovely ammo from the Underground was tossed in, and he wore his GEAR armor, little more than a spandex suit, but filled with useful exploration and espionage bits. It had served him well on Coruscant, and with how he moved in battle a cloak or cape tended to be more hindrance than any sort of aid. Fashion was pointless in war anyhow. Anything that did not enhance your survival chances, or serve your cause, was a bit silly. Now, granted, he himself had a flair for how he expressed and enacted those principles sometimes... But no one was perfect.

Launch

The voice was almost comforting, and suddenly the forces of the universe pressed at him in a long absent way, and he was rocketing toward the planet with his squadmates. Inwardly, maintaining radio silence, he began to hum an old Corellian battle song wordlessly. The tune was jaunty, lilting, almost like a sailing hymn, but with a warbling bass that spoke of a voice best suited for drunken cantina karaoke and not a lot else. Regardless, he kept his nerves under control, and his Force presence as small as he could, focused on the time and the mission ahead, ready for what would be greeting them, having spent a fair amount of time going over some data from [member="Jorus Merrill"] of a scan of the planet below, in exhaustive detail, from the Navigator and [member="Ayden Cater"] themselves. It was old, but it was invaluable really.

[member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Canal"]

 

[Isar Kislo]

So...

Isar was slightly out of place given the company assigned to this particular operation. However, his master, [member="Ryan Korr"], had rather insisted it would be a decent enough learning experience. The reality suited Isar just fine. In the past months, his time had been spent in and out of medical facilities. What had started as a simple bacterial infection had rapidly turned into a deadly disease that nearly killed him. Sent offworld to Kiffex and quarantined, the young Jedi clone had been largely without social interaction. Interestingly enough, the solitude had suited him just fine, having never really been one for...feelings. Doctors and specialists alike made a variety of different diagnosis, but in the end he had randomly recovered...as if his body was adjusting to something foreign, something unnatural within him. Now he had returned to the Alliance to find that he had missed a great many things.

His master had rather immediately confined him to the sprawling network of corridors that was the Sullust Temple, urging him to learn how to manipulate his own presence to a mere fraction of what it would normally be. There was little information given outside of the directive, and Isar had followed it with the utmost of dedication. Shortly prior to boarding the vessel upon which he currently found himself, the Jedi Master had conveyed to the young apprentice what the true purpose behind his efforts had been. Isar was by no means a master at the technique, but he fortunately had rather little...presence to diminish as compared to the rest of the strike team.

Fitted with his own vacuum-sealed suit, Isar wrestled his large frame into the designated launch tube. When the command had been issued, the young Jedi could not help but smile. If this fething deflector shield doesn't work...

[member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Canal"]

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

WAKE UP

WAKE EP

WAKE UP

Jacen slowly roused himself back to consciousness. Despite his best efforts the launch had forced him to black out. He turned his head from side to side as he tried to work out where he was and how long he'd been out.

His HUD highlighted several dots ahead of him and named them as his allies. The silence suggested they were still rocketing through vacuum.

"Thanks suit," he muttered as he straightened his body out once more.

 

[Fen]

The flames of atmospheric entry licked around him. Korr's heart fluttered, a frantic beat to accompany the gasping breaths - the only noise inside his helmet. Closing his eyes, Ryan sucked in a deep breath and went through the ritualistic 'mind quiet' taught to every Jedi when they were padawans. Korr calmed his thoughts, quieting doubts and fears until his breath became steady and his heart a slower drumbeat.

The deflector shields held, just as the Special Forces scientists had assured him they would.

For what seemed an age, he fell in the dead of night, then he caught the outline of a mountain's ridge and the dark shape of land below rushing out to meet him. Suit repulsers kicked in automatically, buoying him up with enough magnetic repulsive thrust to downgrade Ryan's impact with the ground to merely bone jarring instead of bloody smear.

A few minutes later, Korr peeled himself free of the suits smoking ruin, made sure his lightsabers were in place, then pulled up the cowl of his robe and made for the designated meeting zone.


A castle domineered over the surrounding landscape, a fortress by the name of Vain Hollow. Many prisoners of import were kept here, for torture or pleasure - though in the case of the Zambranos it seemed to be one and the same. This was their target.

Ryan waited at the mouth of a cave for the others to arrive.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Canal"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"]

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaJZLKT4qr0[/media]​

​

Vain Hollow Citadel, Panatha...

Blacktalon Peak, the Black Spire of the Iron Mountains, Lair of the God-King. The dark place known as Vain Hollow held many names to the local people, rumors and legends ran even more rampant the further one went from Panatha. One common nickname did carry across planetary boundaries however: "Rarsaza it ri Siqsa" meaning Den of the Demon. Vain Hollow Citadel was visible for many miles around, a dagger in the night standing defiant in the Iron Mountains. A massive citadel carved in, under, and around the massive Blacktalon Peak with massive ornate statues of many Zambrano figures most notably the visage of the Black-Iron Tyrant himself [member="Darth Carnifex"] standing tall over the winding path that led to its well protected gates, jagged knife rocks jutted out from and around of this structure.

Anyone approaching with skill in the force would feel the ominous, thick dark side presence that hung heavily in the area around the citadel, everything was saturated by the dark side of the force. The presence was so thick, so despicable it was like a smothering smog in the cold air. It was hard to feel relaxed near this place, and the ominous statues often made those feel as if someone was watching them from those massive peaks. The unnerving presence that something terribly, terribly wrong was going on with each passing moment, as if the cloaked visage of the grim reaper himself chose this place as his favorite reaping grounds. If it weren't for it's infamous reputation, its infamous leader, and its powerful dark side presence Vain Hollow might have actually looked quite beautiful the way it was shaped in, out, and around the citadel clearly by a caring hand. It might have actually been a structure worthy of admiring, if all of the other factors didn't make ones very own skin crawl. While air traffic was heavier in other areas of Panatha the only ships flying over the skies of this massive structure were wing after wing of starfighters running patrol patterns, anything close enough that didn't transmit the current moments security clearance that changed several times a day was immediately descended upon and shot down.

Outside of the citadel from a decent viewpoint one could see the swarm of beings that moved around this place. Many large hordelike patrol parties of elite graug from the Iron Horde of Fornow that patrolled the exterior with monstrous doglike monstrosities as well as some of the lower levels working in tandem with rotating elements of the Blackblade Guard stationed here along with other elite groups of security forces. All along the high peaks row after row of dark iron and stone battlements teemed with gun turrets, sharpshooters, assault droids, spotlights, and a massive swarm of cameras equipped with varying degrees of vision. These were a wicked, elite legion of killers who aren't too far off from their vile nature as the God-King they serve.

High up in the pinnacle of the citadel within an ornate keep built around and in the top of the mountain sat the keep of the Zambrano Royal Family. It was here within these elegant halls that Darth Prazutis, a Dark Lord of the Black Empire, Prince of the Pacanth Reach and Prime Designate of the God-King moved about. He wore his ornate, black and gold robes with the family signet ring emblazoned with the Zambrano phoenix on his finger, lightsabers always clipped at his sides. He sat in a study chamber where large towering bookshelves lined the walls, a fireplace sat roaring in the center of one of the walls. A beautiful rug took over the center of the room and a number of furniture pieces dominated the room including a beautiful desk, all masterfully crafted out of wroshyr wood.

Prazutis sat at the large desk where he read data feeds of intelligence reports on a heavily encrypted terminal logged on to the closed circuit server of Vain Hollow, impossible to hack from the outside without one sitting in, and being plugged into the actual servers.

[member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] |[member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Canal"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"]

 

[Isar Kislo]

Glacier-blue eyes danced around as the helmet's heads-up display gave precise measurements in velocity and altitude. The closer they got to the planet's surface, the more the planet's gravity began to take effect. For a moment, Isar's focus was on the velocity indicator that was skyrocketing as the entire strike team ticked closer and closer to terminal velocity. An audible beep was the only thing to pull the Jedi's attention to reality that he was approaching re-entry interface.

The brilliant fireballs of several of his partners would have been a decent enough indication if Isar had been able to see them properly. Given the sequencing of the jump, it was hard to see more than perhaps the individual closest to him...his helmet display indicated that to be Master Imperieuse. It was an odd sensation, Isar felt as though he should have felt something, anything as flame danced around the edges of his vision. Almost as quickly as it had started, it stopped. There was air resistance now to the rest of the descent, Isar took the opportunity to reorient his body a handful of times to confirm his limbs hadn't been burned off if nothing else.

The automated guidance program performed as designed for the remainder of the descent, repulsors activating in time to dramatically slow Isar's descent. When he landed, Isar instinctively collapsed his body down and tucked it into a tight roll to absorb the shock. When he rolled back upright, his chest rose and fell a little quicker than normal, indicating either sheer terror or adrenaline... Both... was the only thought he could muster as he peeled off the vacuum-sealed suit. Charred remains were pulled off, but he stowed the suit in a relatively deliberate manner. There wasn't precisely any telling if it might come in handy later.

After adjusting the folds of his brown jacket and the belt of weapons around his waist, Isar's ice-blue gaze searched the horizon for the rest of his associates as he pressed his body down to the ground to keep from silhouetting himself. Satisfied he'd not dropped straight into a trap, Isar silently navigated the landscape to the mouth of a cave where they were all too rally. Upon arrival, the manufactured human noted his master was already waiting.

A silent nod was all that would pass between them for now.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Canal"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"]

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Vain Hollow, Panatha

A thick blanket of clouds hung low across the desolate landscape surrounding the vile citadel of the Zambranos as moisture from the distant jungles condenses into thick storm clouds that would herald the onset of showers and downpours that would quench the land. However; it was very rare for such rainfall to reach the outskirts of the massive mountain that served as the God-King's castle, although on this night the sentries that routinely patrolled the many parapets and high rises of the castle found themselves peppered by a light drizzle, puddles forming in the more earthen courtyards. In a few more hours the light of the rising Pacanth sun would greet the changing of the guard, but for now the weary guards continued on their predetermined paths like obedient automatons, the occasional yawn the only indication that these men and women were of flesh and blood rather than metal plating and circuitry.

High above at the very apex of the mountain were the regal quarters of the Zambrano family, and on the northern slope was the personal quarters of the God-King himself. Heavily furbished with the most decorative and ornate Epicanthix idolatry, one would expect something more spartan and grotesque for a man who had caused so much misery in the galaxy, spread so much chaos and destruction. But where were the hanging bodies? The flayed corpses stuck to the walls and the myriad of skulls? Such macabre decorations were better reserved for the dungeons, where intimidation and fear were the Dark Lord's most loyal allies. Up here at the roof of the world existed only regal splendor, exotic pieces of art imported from all across the known galaxy, and trinkets from long lost societies. Perhaps the closest thing that tied the room to the darkness of its occupant were the bronze busts of long dead Sith Lords that dominated whatever room they were situated in.

Speaking of the Dark Lord, the God-King of the Epicanthix, where was he? Was he busily at work, maiming another Jedi? Tearing out a skull from some hapless victim to display on his altar? No, nothing so devious. He was in bed, the silken sheet pulled up around his muscular frame and the voluptuous silhouette of his wife, burdened with child yet again. The Dark Lord had no fear in his own home, no worries of assassins sneaking in the dead of night to slit his throat or that of his kin. Yet, despite the security he maintained he did not lose himself completely to the sweet embrace of sleep, for as his body recuperated and recovered from the latest battle or campaign his mind ever expanded out to survey all that he ruled. There wasn't much on Panatha that the Dark Lord did not bare witness to, but for those who sought to infiltrate his world he may yet overlook.

Still, he may not have seen the Jedi arriving but the tremor he felt in the darkness he wove so carefully around the world roused him from his stupor. His wife, almost as alert to her surroundings as he was, was also woken from her slumber, and groggily inquired; "What is it?" The Dark Lord swung his legs over the side of his bed, and freed himself from the confines of the sheet that covered him. "A minor nuisance, my love, nothing more. Go back to sleep, I will rejoin you shortly." That seemed to pacify his wife, who quickly readjusted herself beneath the covers and swiftly fell back asleep. With long strides he departed from his shadowy bed chamber, and entered the small antechamber that separated that room from the rest of the quarter. The antechamber was occupied only by a singular wardrobe, which contained several sets of both Kaine and Invicta's casual clothing. Kaine swung open the wooden doors and plucked out a pair for himself, and dressed himself in a timely manner.

He did not yet expect danger, but being roused from his sleep was enough to warrant caution. He entered the main chamber, and tapped a button on the nearby communications panel built into the wall to hail Braxus down at the security station a couple levels below. "I felt a disturbance in the Force, Braxus, initiate a perimeter sweep."

They'd soon discover if anything had breached the castle.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Ryan Korr"]
[member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Canal"]
[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Darth Prazutis]

A security alert flashed on the screen of his terminal causing the Dark Titan to straighten up his posture and immediately access the alert. The familiar visage of Kaine appeared his appearance only slightly disheveled from apparently being woken from slumber. The God-King's quarters along with the Prime Designates were designed away from the rest of the royal quarter, and both along with nearly all of the personal chambers, rooms and halls in the royal quarters were designed with security panels where one could reach the Crownguard Barracks, one of the few security stations, the study Braxus sitting in being a temporary one when it was occupied. "I felt a disturbance in the Force, Braxus, initiate a perimeter sweep." Just then when his concentration wasn't diverted elsewhere he had felt the odd slithering tremor.

While there was those who in the place of the Sith Lords would just shrug it off and continue business as usual, but Braxus wasn't one of them. He learned many years ago to trust the odd hunches and feelings Kaine received, it saved their lives on multiple occasions. "Yes now I can feel it..will you be staying up then until this presence is rooted out, Kaine?" Braxus replied. There was only a rare few people in the galaxy who were on a first name basis with the God-King, and he was one of them. Kaine's answer only mattered for whether or not he would open up a private channel on his comlink to the God-Kings own. Braxus closed out the contact with Kaine and stood up and locked his terminal, immediately exiting the study.

The Dark Lord walked through the halls passing a gargantuan Imperial Sentinel on his way to one of the primary security stations, it was a heavily fortified large chamber several levels down from the quarters of the God-King in the series of chambers dominated by the Crownguard. This wing while they shared a similar color scheme were devoid of art, statues, sculptures, and luxuries of the sort. They were filled with defenses, and heavy security, the walls and infrastructure of this level was reinforced. The security command center, barracks for the Crownguard, as well as a separate barracks and praying chambers for the devout Vornskr'ei Seers who spent all their time up in these halls managing the force of Imperial Sentinels, gargantuan organic automaton-like beings that trudged through the halls. The main station was more akin to a command center or war room with terminals and screens lining the walls, Crownguard security analysts separate of the combat ready warriors filled this room monitoring the massive network of computers, cameras, alerts, alarms, sensors, and security chatter flowing over Crownguard Central, the primary security battlenet for the entire citadel.

A tall man almost as tall as the Dark Lord with black hair with a physique that appeared as if it was chiseled from stone approached Braxus, his helmet was sitting on a side table and he wore the full armor of a Crownguard officer. "Captain Cassus our imperial majesty and myself have felt a disturbance that's given us reason enough to investigate." Braxus said to the man, who bowed to the royal figure standing before him. "Yes my lord, what would you have done?" The man said a dire serious look forming on his face.

"Just to be safe I want to raise the threat level to level two. Seal the Royal Sector, Labs and underground facilities. I want an immediate Sentinel presence accompanied by guardsman right outside the inner doors to the God-Kings bedchamber. Double the guard citadel wide on every level and roll out the various security and assault droids to support. Initiate immediate and increased perimeter sweeps of the citadel, rouse the graug I want double the amount of perimeter assault patrol groups." Braxus ordered. The Captain immediately moved around the chamber shouting orders, and the entirety of the citadel command burst quietly in response. All atop the walls watchers would see more of those black armored guardsman rush out reinforcing all patrolling guards on the battlements, towers, walking the halls both outside and where they could not see inside. After some time passed the massive black gates, one of the few known entrances and exits to the citadel opened and out belched out many more large Imperial Graug groups that moved to initiate a perimeter sweep.

Massive turadium blast doors shut across nearly every door and window in the Royal Quarter where specifically only select members of the royal family, the crownguard, the God-King and the Prime Designate could override. Two massive Imperial Sentinels marched with three royal guardsman passing right by the God-King at his chambers. The two guardsman took up flanking positions on the exterior doors while the sentinels moved inside and flanked the doors leading right into the bedchamber where Kaine's wife slept. A single crownguard was allowed past the large titanic beings and took up position inside the bedchamber. It was a rare but familiar occurrance to those distinguished individuals who lived in the Royal Quarters. Braxus leaned on the holotable and observed the holographic representation of Vain Hollow and the vast area surrounding the citadel, all of the new units were tagged with markers. "All starfighter wings support the ground patrol sweeps, switch to hunter formation and patterns."

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Ryan Korr"]​

[member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Canal"]​

[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Mia Monroe]

Vain Hollow

Calina was awoken by a hammering on her door, startling her so much she was upright with her lightsaber in her hand. It took a few seconds for her to shake away the shadows of a nightmare and compose herself. "What is it?"

"The God-King is awake, the threat level has been risen. Your presence is required."

"Is it, feth." She muttered in protest, shoving on clothes rapidly she opened the door, not giving the guard the time of day to even thank him. She reached out to the force, calling on it for speed and broke into a run. He had placed her quarters in the wing furthest from him to further add to her torment perhaps? Whatever the reason, she had learned early on that she had to come to him, before he came to her.

By the time she reached Kaine's quarters, all thoughts of sleep had been blown from her mind by the speed at which she ran. Calina didn't knock, she simply waited outside the door to be invited in, or joined.

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darron Wraith"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Canal"] [member="Lilin Imperieuse"]

 

[Zion Krayt]

Bishop.

That's what he had told everyone in the Galactic Republic to call him when he had joined their ranks... Rejoin them in a way actually. From future, to past, to a little bit closer to his own time was how it had gone. An array of horrid memories that made up his brain's memory bank. As a Padawan he had known excitement and pleasure, friends and family. As a Jedi Knight, they all disappeared. Some by the hands of the Sith, more from the greatest monster of all.

Time.

​

He descended through the planet's atmosphere silently. His eyes closed as he trusted he'd reach the ground safely enough.

There were Sith down there that needed to be brought to justice. For some that meant arrest and a trial. Perhaps even rehabilitation for those who hadn't committed War Crimes. In the past, he'd affiliate with those Jedi who would bring them in. Arrest before killing. But there had been a time in the last few years where he remembered his teachings.

When you took that lightsabre hilt off of your belt, you committed yourself to injuring someone.

To killing someone.

He had been taught to never take it off unless he was prepared to use it. It wasn't a toy, it wasn't meant to be used to flex the symbolic weapon of the Jedi Order. Once, it had been a tool to save lives, a shining beacon in the darkness.

As far as Zaren Bouqi was concerned, those times were gone.

He opened his eyes. The ground was rushing up to meet him and he immediately changed his position so that it would be his feet that crashed into the floor instead of belly flopping onto the planet. The suit's repulsors activated, kicking up after sputtering rapidly, too quick to count. They slowed his descent enough so that when his armoured self -- Yes, armoured, phrik and all. He had a pretty face to hide. He tucked and rolled across the ground and was already peeling himself out of the suit.

He figured there were plenty of scenarios of how this was meant to go, but he doubted they would pan out as they had planned.

Bishop's eyes behind the visor of his helmet flickered back and forth as he tracked other people landing before he started off at an even jog to head to the cave. His presence in the Force was nonexistent.

[member="Ryan Korr"] - [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] - [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] - [member="Darron Wraith"] - [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] - [member="Isar Kislo"] - [member="Canal"]
[member="Darth Carnifex"] - [member="Darth Prazutis"] - [member="Calina Ovmar"]

 

[Hailey Sosis]

Location: Vain Hollow
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Calina Ovmar"]
Enemy: [member="Zaren Bouqi"] [member="Isar Kislo"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Darron Wraith"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
Gear: Hide Armour and two red lightsabers

Harley to had felt something in the force, at first she thought it was the McYoda she ate earlier, then realised it was something different. She got out bed and as she did the an alarm went off telling her to get to her she had work to do, and not cleaning up after a family party. She got dressed in her Hide armour, and placed the helmet on. This gave her disadvantage of not being able to project the force outward, though people projecting the force against her got a shock. After getting dressed in hurry she head to the control room, where she saw her two overlords, and some of the generals, and a new acolyte she did not recognise. She quickly knelt as she entered the presence of the god king, she then waited for permission to rise, after all she was just a minion. As she knelt she said My'lord you sent for me!

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Location: Vain Hollow
Allies: [member="Ryan Korr"], [member="Zaren Bouqi"], [member="Isar Kislo"], [member="Jacen Voidstalker"], [member="Julius Sedaire"], [member="Lilin Imperieuse"], [member="Darron Wraith"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"]
Gear: VT Vanguard Armor, Dissuader KD-30 Slug Thrower (pair), One generic lightsaber (cause he keeps losing them)

He wasn't sure he had ever experienced the force of such an entry into planet. Thoughts crept in about the notions of the body being forced in one direction when it wanted nothing more than to lag behind. Before he could blink away the thoughts, shaking his head in derision, he awoke to the sensation of heat against his suit. The deflector shields had kicked on but wasn't doing anything for the intensity. He felt like his skin was being pulled from the bone and he once more drifted to thoughts, idle activity to distract him as he controlled his breath. The Homestead. Avalore, Maud and Destin, Relit, Stahli, Jacen, the yodaling, Cera. But for some reason, he landed on the prospect of bees. And how this must have been what it felt like to get knocked free from a frame.

The repulsors kicked on as he took in the view of the monstrous silhouettes in the background. Volcanic and molten earth, reaching up into the sky to greet them. Rejuvenated, he watched as others touched down before him. As he came to, he hit without just about the amount of force he anticipated. Which was surprising to him, given his lack of trust in technology he hadn't personally tested.

Pulling the jump suit from his body, he checked his possessions with an abundance of disorientation. The plan was to head towards a cave entrance, some sort of plan to invade the castle from below. Finding the meeting spot, he waited quietly while checking his gear and ammunition.

Thoughts drifted once more to his time in the Vain Hollow, Grandmaster of the Republic hidden away within the depths of the castle. And the clone that was formed in her image. Mentally shaking the thoughts away, knowing just how far back in time they resided, he centered himself and focused for the task at hand. He had but one enemy in this place, a vile thing he once tossed into a grave. Unknowingly shallow, he'd dig much deeper this time around.

These weren't the thoughts of a Jedi. But then again, he wasn't a Jedi.

 

[Fen]

Korr nodded to each of them as they arrived. When they'd all gathered he spoke in the clipped, crisp tone of a Coruscanti. Some wore heavy armor, others were - like him - geared in nothing but robes and a standard issue utility belt.

"You were all at the briefing. The main objective is to free the prisoners held in Vain Hollow."

Or whatever is left of them. He thought darkly.

"We will be infiltrating via this cave mouth. It leads down to a natural aquifer, which the Zambranos use as waste disposal."

Calling it a cave was actually generous. Tunnel would have been a more apt description, since the walls were barely wide enough for two people to move at the same time. The ceiling was also incredibly low at points and there they would have to crawl on hands and knees. Not the most dignified position for a group comprised of many former Jedi dignitaries. Korr didn't care what he had to crawl through in order to gain access to Vain Hollow.

The Zambranos were more vulnerable and isolated now than they had been in the last ten years. It was time to strike back.

"Essentially, we will be climbing up through the sewers. The aquifer walls are steep, you'll need your grappling hooks. Maintaining a low presence in the Force is of the highest priority. Don't expand your aura, don't even use it if you can avoid it. Let's go."

With that, Korr ducked into the cavern.

Time to crawl through the belly of the beast.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Zaren Bouqi"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Harley"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Isar Kislo]

Glacier-blue eyes remained cast in the direction of the greatest source of darkness. Though he had taken care in the thirty minutes prior to the initiation of the jump, Isar was keenly aware of how vital a steadily maintained night vision would be until they entered the facility proper. If he was going to rely on merely his natural senses, he was going to set himself up to do so effectively.

It wasn't until Master Korr initiated a quick re-brief of what had previously been discussed that Isar turned his gaze away from the darkened cavern entrance. Isar of course had memories of tangling with several Zambranos in his past. These memories were all implanted, visions of battles endured by the 'parents' from which most of his genetic material had been created. The young man wasn't exactly a clone, but he was every bit the science experiment...the blending of two entities. One of which...had spent a great deal of time in Vain Hollow. The other of which had stormed its walls to rescue the damsel in distress, so to speak.

When Master Korr had completed the briefing, Isar briefly adjusted the folds of his jacket before slipping his large frame through the entrance with no shortage of effort.

If only his unknown mother and father could see him now... They would probably say he was being moronic.

Fortune favors the bold, Isar.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Zaren Bouqi"] | [member="Darron Wraith"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Harley"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

 

[Korinna Zambrano]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uydpasdf3dU​

​

Vain Hollow, personal chambers of Korinna Zambrano​

​

Warm water effervesced inside the brass tub, jasmine-scented vapour shrouding the candle-lit chamber in a cloud of sweet, mellow smell that taunted the senses. Inside the metallic vessel idly lay a dark-haired woman, her bare body barely covered by heaps of floating flowers that lent their essence to the soothing liquid. Hands ran down her torso, tips of fingers gently massaging into her skin, aiming to relax tensed muscles. An entire day of training took a toll on Korinna's body which was unaccustomed to a spartan regime Prazutis had envisioned as his prime mode of instruction.

Once she was done palpating every square inch of her skin, giving special attention to her sore thighs and calves, Korinna rocked back into the tub and submerged the entirety of her body under water, save for her face. Her eyes instinctively closed and breathing steadied as she fell into an almost meditative state that vouched full regeneration. Her chest rose rhythmically, bust rising from the water like vulcanic peaks that protrude out of the ocean, ripping the darkening skies. While her body remained tranquil, it was her mind that remained alert.

It was no secret Korinna Zambrano was to become an apt mentalist, rather than a versed warrior such as Kaine or Braxus. The finest exemplar of Epicanthix race, she had an innate, genetic resistance towards mind-tricks, but also exceptional talent in projective telepathy due to her extraordinary intelligence. It was a gift she still hadn't learned how to control, let alone master. When the body was pacified, the mind was the loudest. Korinna opened herself to the Force and let her entire being serve as a conduit for the weave that held the universe together.

And there it was, a single ripple on an otherwise calm lake. While trained Force users could mask their presence well below the threshold a mere acolyte could detect, those more inexperienced would have their Force signatures shine like beacons in a starless night. A pack was only as strong as its weakest member, the old saying said, so cubs had no place in the hunt for game, at least not until they've grown some incisors.

Dark brown eyes opened, followed by a deep exhale; Korinna Zambrano rose from the water, rivulets of fluid meandering down her curves as she moved to step out from the tub. A hand was extended towards the lyre-shaped chair to fetch a silken bathrobe in anthracite hues. A moment later, the satin fabric draped from her shoulders, trailing behind her as she made her way to the balcony, barefooted.

Once she stood at the edge of the terrace overlooking the valley which cradled the Zambrano fortress, her gaze rose to the sky to behold long trails akin to those left by meteors and projectiles. Her eyes followed the trajectory to the foot of the mountain, where the shells had supposedly crashed. Korinna just stood there for a few moments, the wind gently fluttering the fabric of her robe backwards before she folded the seams across and fastened it with a silken belt. She then turned on her heel and returned inside, yet with no intention to alert Prazutis. If he hadn't already spotted them, he was unworthy of both his title and life.

[member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]