Populate Our Finest Hour | SO Populate of Mustafar

[Darth Empyrean]

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Jutrand​

877 ABY​

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The Dark Tide had conquered a hundred worlds in only a few months, the Emperor’s Fist had created such a name for itself it had practically shocked the entire Outer Rim into paralyzed fear, inaction so fundamental to their diplomacy there was no possible reaction to what was to come. Even now, a thousand ships shot out to strike at diplomatic, trade, and military convoys - enough to break the slim structure they already had. Even more had already began to subvert their allies in trying to gain the favor of the Dread Emperor, knowing that his name was given for a reason - for the undeniable danger he posed should they deny him.​

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For all of this greatness the Sith faced, the issues at home became more concerning. After the Jiaasjen Purge, the Night of Sabers, the Empire had split once more - though less officially than ever before. No large battles had taken place, but small secluded actions that had slowly set the borders of a civil war. Only recently had it escalated with a mix of Kainite and Inquisition fleets lost to their equal strikes.​

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In lieu of this, Empyrean had pulled the Imperial Authority from the Tribunal to hunt Malsheem himself. For weeks there was nothing to be found of it, despite more than a number of operations on Kinoonie, Faldos, and various planets between. Yet more recently, reports of the Malsheem fortifying the planet of Mustafar drew his attention, and the attention of the First Legion.​

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His vision was eternal and great, and utilizing it he confirmed the presence of Carnifex on the world. In only a few minutes, the Mors Mon was set to engage, fully armed with battle cruiser Mongers and more than a few star destroyers. The Traversal Drive above Jutrand ignited with a snap that sent great streaks of red lightning over the world - like northern lights, they marked the beginning of the end of this civil war.​

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Objective I: Duel of Fates​

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The Mors Mon teleported into the orbit of Mustafar with a dangerous precision, pointed directly at the Malsheem - or so it was thought. All the normal considerations of the planet sphere were not present, but it moved towards the Mors Mon with a previously unknown speed. Quickly, the fleet attached to the greatest ship in the galaxy were released - and all guns began to fire on the great sphere to end this charade once and for all.​

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Only that the Malsheem was not truly there - but a mockery of intent. Shrouded in Sith magic to cloud the Emperor’s vision, and carrying a fleet attachment of its own, the First Legion was faced with a false attack by the Kainite Forces - while ground forces and emplacements on the planet began to fire up to destroy what they could.​

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Protect the Mors Mons, destroy the Kainite resources, and end the false Emperor. The Kainite will learn to fear its transgressions.​

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Objective II: D-Day​

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While the First Legion’s assault on Mustafar was heralded as a great success for the fledging Imperium, the celebration and lightning in the sky only lasted for a few moments before a darker omen appeared. Just after the First Legion left the capital of the Sith, the true Malsheem appeared in orbit - twinned with the moon of the world.​

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The response was swift, but destruction began to lay waste to the world instantly. Kainite loyalists surged towards the planet to attempt to conquer it, to pull the foundational pillar of the Imperium out from under them - but it would fail. The Tsis’kaar, the Eternalists, the Imperium would not allow this to succeed.​

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Repel the Kainite forces from the world, ensure they can not damage the heart of our Empire. Send them to the farthest reaches of the galaxy with their tail between their legs.​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

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Mustafar​

877 ABY​

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Darkness had overcome this world, more times than he could count. It was instrumental in the creation of the Empire under Sidious, the fall of Darth Vader, the creation of Kylo Ren in practicality, and more. So many times this planet had become the center of the Dark Side, Empyrean could hardly keep track - but today would be another. As the Mors Mon brought itself into a casual orbit, delatching the full fleet in its hanger bays, and letting them loose on this false Malsheem.​

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The Malsheem was not important to destroy - were he able, he'd prefer to keep it - but something else must be dealt with. The being that was the twice tyrant, the dark lord Carnifex. That which threatens the Order once again must be dealt with, and if seemed only fitting the Emperor of this great order deal with it himself. While the ships would fight their battle in orbit, he would go to this lava covered world and kill that needed to be killed.​

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He exited the traversal drives room and moved towards the hangers. Forming his staff in his hand, he let it rip apart reality - unseen by any of those around him, he would seem to walk into an invisible door into nothing. Exiting, he was within Vader's Castle. The ancient structure had been home to more than a dozen force orders, cultists, and lords of the Sith. Some called themselves Ren, others by some name they made up - but it mattered not. Today it was the grave of Panatha, so that they may mourn their deity in his lava encrusted tomb.​

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"You've called for me, Darth Carnifex. I have come.", he said idly, walking through the main hall of the place.​

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"Let's settle this arrangement."​

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Darth Carnifex​

 

[Darth Xyrah]

Objective 1 - Duel of the Fates
Location: Klegger Corp Mining Facility
Post: 1

This was it. The final confrontation to determine the fate of the Sith Order. Since Empyrean had enacted his purge, only to be counter-purged by Kainite operatives, Saryn had been rapidly building up his droid armies to strengthen the Kainite's military power for this very moment. While the Mors Mons was distracted by the Kainite fleet above, Saryn and his droid forces had fortified the old Klegger Corp Mining Facility, installing a shield generator to protect against orbital bombardment while using it to direct the planetary guns firing up at the Mors Mons and Empyrean's ships. A blatant way to dare Empyrean's armies to come down and fall into his trap.

Saryn surveyed the battle raging above and upon the molten surface of Mustafar from a holographic map table, alongside a cadre of his advisors and tactical droids, in the facility's control room which served as his command center for this operation. Tactical data flooded in from battlefields across the planet where Kainite forces had engaged those of Darth Empyrean, quickly managed by the Super Tactical Droids commanding the larger campaign. Saryn pulled out his personal holocommunicator, contacting his master, Darth Carnifex.

"Beloved. Everything is proceeding as you have foreseen. The Mors Mons has sprung our trap and the fleet has it engaged in orbit above this world. By your command, I have fortified the Klegger Corp Mining Facility with my forces. Should they wish to effectively cease the attacks on the Mors Mons above from the surface, they will have to come here and fall right into our trap. Have you any further instructions?"

Darth Carnifex
Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith, watched as all the pieces moved into place. The Shah-tezh demense had been set, and all of the players were in position. His opponent had the benefit of moving first, and Carnifex responded by sacrificing some of His lesser pieces, His Disciples. Though He'd lost some of His pieces, it all served a greater purpose. Now the enemy Imperator had the taste of blood, and chased after whatever meat was dangled in front of it, to the detriment of the other pieces moving against them.

The image of Saryn Naberrie appeared before Carnifex, molded from liquid metal. Carnifex took His eyes off the board to look at the leader of Shadow Mind, "Very good, Lord Xyrah. Empyrean will be coming to the fortress. Ensure that any reinforcements that follow are dealt with accordingly." He then ceased communication, and rose from the throne. There was little time for idle chatter, everything had to be conducted within a tight window, otherwise His plan would come apart. He looked up through a gap in the fortress walls, spying the spherical object that hung high in Mustafar's atmosphere.

How irresistible was it, the Malsheem, dangling exposed over Mustafar. Darth Empyrean had come just as expected, his desire to see the burgeoning civil war brought a quick end utterly insatiable. When the Mors Mons appeared over Mustafar, Carnifex knew that His plan was proceeding perfectly. For you see, the Malsheem above Mustafar was not the true Malsheem. It was little more than a sphere of scrap metal haphazardly welded together in the vague shape of the worldcraft. Reflective mirrors had been affixed to the sphere's surface, and the Kainate escort fleet around the false Malsheem pinged communication signals off these mirrors to simulate the illusion of activity.

Engines, strapped to the rear of the false Malsheem, roared to life once the Mors Mons got within sensor range. The Kainate had jammed Eternalist sensors from a distance, otherwise the enemy fleet would've caught onto the ruse far too early. Had they been able to scan the false Malsheem, they would've noticed that it was only putting out less than a percentage of the energy readings of the actual Malsheem. But now it was too late, and the false Malsheem was careening towards the Mors Mons.

Turbolaser fire seared away portions of the metal plating, revealing that the entire structure was predominately hollow beneath the thin exterior. Hollow, but not unoccupied. Smaller ships spewed forth from the molten wounds, engines carrying them much farther and much faster than the sluggish fake worldcraft. These were boarding craft, little more than cargo holds with engines strapped to them. Many would be atomized in the cold vacuum, having never even gotten close to their intended target, but there would be far too many to shoot down all at once. When they struck true, beasts, raiders, and all sorts of abominations and monstrosities would be disgorged into any ship they moored to.

Simultaneously, the skies above Jutrand would become inundated with the true Kainate fleet. Malsheem, the true Malsheem, materialized in the skies above. Starfighters emerged in the thousands, landing craft blotted out the sun, and star destroyers in seemingly unending numbers began to open fire. Communications would be jammed along all open frequencies at both Mustafar and Jutrand, reducing both sides to communicating only through private channels.

This was the beginning of the end.

​

Such as it had been designed by Darth Carnifex, master architect of woe.

He watched His plan unfold masterfully, all sides playing exactly into His hands. The decrepit Fortress Vader was hardly in any shape to repel an assault by the Eternalists, but it didn't need to. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Corpse-God would come to Him, freely and of his own volition. Carnifex anticipated this, understood that Empyrean would seek to break the spirit of his foe before truly destroying them. What better demoralization than to crush the Twice-Emperor personally?

So when Darth Empyrean appeared within Fortress Vader, Darth Carnifex was waiting for him. The foyer was desolate, moldering tapestries collapsed in heaps around the pillars they once hung from, stone statues broken and scattered. Darth Carnifex waited near the broken stairway leading further into the castle, His muscular body encapsulated in runic armor. His lightsaber was already in His right hand, but was unlit, while His large runeblade was sheathed at His back. The upper half of a skeletal helmet was cradled in the crux of His left arm.

"Indeed, smoke and flame shall witness the end."

Carnifex grasped the helmet in His left hand, raising it up over His head before lowering it into position. His armor responded, plating rising up to cover the lower half of His face and anchor the top portion. The eyes began to glow a fiery red, the same blaze that raged just beyond the castle walls. It was then that He activated His lightsaber, the scarlet blade crackling to life. He wasted no more words, rushing forward with thundering steps, lightsaber lashing out to pierce Empyrean straight through His heart. Before that, the blade sheathed across His back slipped out and levitated up into the air. The tip pointed towards Empyrean's head, and rushed forward to separate it from his body.

And the battle was joined.

Darth Empyrean | Darth Xyrah ​

 

[Domina Prime]

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Every day was exactly the same it felt like.

That much was certain, that much was true for her - yet at the same time she could not help but wonder, was it really? Could Dima say with any true certainty that there were such things as days anymore in this screaming, bloated vision of Hell? That any shackle of time could constrain the black and stringy deformation, rife with tar and convulsing with corruption, the monster that was Jutrand? Gods children of the dark all congregated in a single celestial body was inevitably bound to fall under conflict for one reason or another. Either conflict of cloaks and daggers or conflicts of incredible devastation and open warfare. The Sith...the mother that devoured all she birthed with some malformed version of love, ruining them until they resembled her in all her hideous beauty - only until every last soul trapped in her belly was just as imperfect and broken as she.

There was no meaning to anything anymore. Where once she had found glory and some twisted sense of beauty in the vast sprawl of stars, there was simply a gaping absence much like a scalpel had gouged out her heart. The day to day musings and childish things had been slowly being burned from her and soldered into something else, something more sure and yet less sure; her wings had been stripped of their white feathers and replaced with barbwire and bullet shells. The engine of her empathy was a dying car that coughed and sputtered black smoke every time you turned the ignition, running on empty. They had not gone through what she had gone through, they had not known the horror of horror, and thus from this a disconnection began to spawn - a disassociation from the naivete of innocence.

With a rattling sigh, the beast inhaled the rotten, smog filled air, pausing to cautiously eye the murals on the walls as she walked on. The bloodshed, the brutality of war, the politics, the dramatic posturing of individuals she could not quite understand was all becoming...agitating to the creature.

And as the skies grew dark, the radiance of hatred permeated the very planet itself as open conflict erupted throughout the planets surface. The young xeno finding herself wandering through the streets, curiosity driving her out to explore the strange world she had only just recently come to visit the world and on her initial landing was greeted by strange individuals.

She found them endearing in the moments she spent with them...for godlings anyway. But now, left to her own devices the Xeno was getting oh so incredibly bored. Her expression a passive glaze of general disinterest as a voice quipped from a distance behind her.

"Domina! Domina!" X9, a tiny assistant droid floated through the air as quickly as it could. "Terrible news! The Sith are involved with some bloody culling soldiers and inquisitors have taken to the streets! It's not safe anymore Domina, we should seek shelter!" The droid went on and on, causing Dima to pause in her tracks as those ears along the sides of her head fluttered like butterfly wings.

"Oh? Wait a second~" The impish alien lifted one of her hands to her ear. "Drama i hear? At long last? And here i thought these people would bore me to literal death~" The creature chittered warmly in delight through azurite fangs as the droid stared up at her.

"Oh no not ag- Dima! You have no allies and your in the middle of enemy territory!" The droid warned, moments later a flash of claws snatching the tiny droid and catching it between those sharp daggers as if trapping X9 in a birdcage.

"Good, more free food for me." She sneered back with a grin.

"You don't understand Prime, this conflict is between the Carnifex and The Dread Emperor! They are making power plays everyone is choosing their sides! It would be wiser to not get involved~" The droid tried to explain while trapped within her claws. Dimas many eyes shifting and wandering about as if to give it clear thought.

"No...no i suppose it wouldn't would it? Be wise?" Dima exclaimed aloud, tapping a finger on her chin for a moment before the sudden stomp of heavy boots and chatter approached from all around. The flood of enforcers and soldiers eventually dividing and conquering different segments of the city before spreading to the next. "But then again, it may not be wise. But there are lessons i need to teach...lessons that need to sink in. There are things i NEED to MAKE them understand."

The alien rambled, the droid becoming more and more nervous as the threat loomed dangerously around them getting closer and closer.

"Like what!? What is it you are trying to prove to these people?! What do you want!?" The droid snapped in a hush tone, causing a wide smile to appear on the lifeforms face, spreading ear to ear an in unsettling manner as the teeth along the sides of her face rattled and chittered.

"That their god ain't gonna save them from my claws this time~" She whispered before loosening her claws to let the little droid float away as if she had released a bird. "I want to see the look of shock and surprise on their face when their fancy fucking suits, shiny little boots and silly magic tricks fail them in the presence of something greater. Since i've arrived ive been looking for an excuse! A reason to rake my claws on the bones of these rats but civility and being a 'lady' stopped me. But now? Its open season darling! Now i don't need a reason to make them bleed...now i need a reason not to~" She whispered as she took the helm tucked beneath one of her lower arms. Sticking it onto her skull and sealing the helm just as the soldiers turned the corner to witness a lone Mandalorian.

"You there! Who are you? Name and identification~" One soldier spat, another, dressed to a fine T lifted an arm to dismiss the grunt.

"A child of manda? So far from home?" A ladies voice spoke, wearing a helm on her own as she looked back and forth to see there were no others. "And alone? Very odd indeed. That will make this easier for my friends here." She gestured to her company of soldiers and warriors who collected behind her, Dima staring with a smile plastered on her face from behind the helm as she just took one. step. forward~

And then another.

Another...

One drew their weapon, another reaching for their saber. Still the lady inquisitor remained silent and statuesque.

And with a slow rattle of that barbed tail a voice rang from the helm.

"Simple, senile prey, you should have brought more~" She playfully growled.

Oh yes dear audience. They should have brought many, many more~

​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Objective 2: D-Day

Jutrand was becoming more and more commonly a battleground, every time he had been on it.

The man before him gave out a sharp if quick cry, as he was struck down and fell upon the cold, uncaring concrete. Witnessed by cold, uncaring eyes.

It was becoming a problem, and too, it was odd that whenever the planet became a battleground, the enemy was always the Kainites. He could not exactly blame them for the first time, the fact they were the enemy had been as much a surprise to him, as it had been to them, it was why they had almost immediately withdrawn from the field after all.

Well, it was not as if it was unknown that they were enemies at the time, the Triumvirate had stood as a beacon of paranoia and hatred both inwards and outwards, and there had been strong rivalries and feuds between the various factions for months, as each had gripped and tore into the Galactic rim while attempting potshots at each other.

He doubted they were going to withdraw so simply this time, though. The shadow of the Malsheem loomed heavy both in his mind and in his sight, as it engorged itself of its cargo. For all the effort he had made to uncover the Malsheem's location, it seemed it was a waste, for here it was, making an assault upon the one place it should have never been able. He could only grimly smirk as the darkness of Sith hulls fired upon each other with the light of various coloured weapons, all destructive, and promising death, and destruction for all that would meet its attack head-on.

Unfortunately, it was likely to be his fate to meet that destiny head-on.

A Force push left his hand, as a wave of enemies was blown away from his presence, his blade moving upward in front of him to block red blaster bolts from men and droids alike, armoured in darkness and in villainy, as they served a false Emperor, though... it was not as if Malum felt much loyalty to the so-called true Emperor, either. His loyalty was to others and himself, in that order. These invaders had threatened his family, and for that, they would pay most dearly. Barricades had been hastily put up across various streets, heavy repeating blasters put upon them singing forth their deadly song to their opposition, while the civilians were evacuated from the invaded districts. Malum had assisted in several fighting withdrawals thus far, but street by street, battle by battle, it seemed the Kainite assault had not been lessening in its ferocity. His eyes found themselves on the Malsheem, towering ever so dangerously up in the stars, there would likely only be one way to end this.

Lightning poured out from his fingers like a deluge of floodwater, in his third eye he could almost make out the sensation of lightning coursing through skin, flesh, and bone, and could feel the sensation of droid components being shortcircuited from the sheer charge, current and voltage of the blast. Cheers went out among the troops under his command, a hodgepodge of his own Guard, alongside the planetary defence forces, with a minority of other Eternalist and Tsis'Kaar forces. The lightning storm at the very least would buy them precious minutes before the next assault would strike them, and likely throw them back to the next barricade. Buildings around him smoked, while in the fighting thus far, he had seen many of them fall, crumble to ash and husk, yet that never compared to the sight of corpses laying on the street, those innocent of the games between power and sin.

"Custos, report," Malum spoke into his wrist comm, utterly confident that his sworn shield and second command was alive and well, fighting on in a neighbouring district with a portion of the Guard.

"The 14th District has held, though we have taken heavy casualties, mostly from the planetary defence forces, evacuations have reached 95%." Custos gruff voice reported, the sounds of blaster bolts very prominent in the background, along with the grunts and screams of unknown and unknowable men, ally and foe alike. Still, all Malum could feel was relief, apparently, he had feared that Custos was dead, but even more, if the 14th held, that meant they would not be flanked, and much more importantly, both the civilians were soon to be safe.

"Forgotten about little ol' me have we?" Malum could only give a small wry smile, as the soft and playful voice of Venerandus filled his ears, somehow still keeping in good spirits considering the circumstances, something that was thankfully infectious, "The 1st Guard have secured the Manse, your family is safe, we are withdrawing to the safety point now," His voice shifted, keeping the softness, yet a seriousness pervaded through, and all Malum could feel was evermore relief, his family, their family, were safe.

"Well then, gentlemen, I'll leave things to you, bring the Air Squadron to position, the only way to end this, will be in the skies," Malum said, eyes still on the Malsheem up in the sky, he had been told the legends of the two Death Stars, moon-like structures with the ability to destroy planets, was this what the citizens of Aldeeran, Endor and Yavin had seen when they looked up at the sky and saw the structure? Did they feel the sweat on their brow, the hitch at their breath, the almost paralysing fear?

Yet, this was no Death Star, even if appearances would indicate it so. He had only ever spoken to Carnifex once, onboard the Malsheem interestingly enough, theirs was a fraught and tense conversation, but it had been enlightening. It was more Starforge than it was Death Star, which meant... it would need to be eliminated, or eventually, they would be overrun.

Still, this reminded him of another great event in galactic history as well, and truly, it was no wonder why he saw the comparison. In a city world, with a surprise attack by enemy forces on the capital, while they were losing the war, with the principal allied forces away. Really, the only major difference was that the would-be Chancellor was not here, and instead an Emperor was leading the majority of the forces in far-off Mustafar, likely too far to bring reinforcements. Malum had decided not to join him, and that was likely to be a fortunate outcome, the Guard would be of much better use defending a siege, rather than assaulting one. Still... it would sting that the glory of capturing or even killing Carnifex would not be his... not that he expected that it would be, but he could at least have claimed to have contributed, no?

Still, it became all the more clear that this was a battle of Coruscant.

And he was not certain if it would result in a Separatist rout like the first.

Still, he wondered who the Grevious of this metaphor was.

Who would lead such a bold strike to the heart of the Empire?

Well, perhaps he might get a chance for glory after all.

"It shall be done, my scion," Both gruff and soft voices uttered.

A final glance was given to the Malsheem, if Carnifex was up there, then this would be a battle for his life. Yet, if he won, this assault would be ended, and he would be known across the galaxy.

"Await for me, your Grace," He spoke mockingly to the air, as he turned and began marching off, one of his lieutenants slotting up behind him, and silently taking over command of the section.

To the skies, where the battle would be decided.

Well, that was if he had no distractions.

Battle rarely went along with plans.

Domina Prime , Open.

 

[Lliara Daeva]

The ground shook.

Then it shook again.

A figure cloaked in darkness straightened up with a precision blade in one gloved hand. Golden eyes stared up at the ceiling as dark lips formed a thin line. How was a woman to conduct her work with all these distractions? It was outrageous.

After a moment taken to wipe off the blade, Lliara slid it away. She removed a bacta applicator and sealed the wounds on her Subject so they didn't die while she was out of the room. No need to spoil all of the work thus far. The break in momentum was bad enough.

The face plate snapped shut before the door to the room opened to permit Lliara to leave. Of course it was fine for the Subject to see her. Eye contact could go a long way in establishing a rapport. Wasn't like they were going to leave that room alive, after all. Well, not this one anyway.

Despite the flashing lights in the hallway indicating the facility was on alert, however, the black-clad woman strode toward the command center in no particular hurry. It wasn't her job to worry over everything that happened there. Far more important things to occupy her mental energy. Nevertheless, Lliara's vocalizer intoned, "Status," as she entered the room.

The crimson line of her helmet slowly panned from one monitor to the next as a verbal rundown was given. Apparently the Kainites -- all? some? -- had... Well, they'd invaded Jutrand. Now that was interesting. Oh, not surprising in the least, but interesting. The timing of it... There'd been no intelligence anyone had shared with her about such a bold move. An inevitable one, but so soon? No doubt spurred on by the Emperor's moves to seize and consolidate power.

Well, she wasn't going to get any proper interrogations done with all this noise.

Lliara turned and began to make her way back up to the surface. It wasn't that Lliara felt an overwhelming need to defend the planet. Planetary defense wasn't her specialty. Meatshield wasn't her profession. Still, all those people up there trying to take the capital... Oh, yes, some of them would make excellent Subjects. And if Lliara didn't manage to incapacitate them they'd likely all be shot dead. Hard to question the dead.

Not impossible these days, but difficult all the same.

Once the lift reached ground level, Lliara again strode calmly toward the front of the building. The ground trembled. She swayed to keep her balance and not lose too much momentum. Not an unfamiliar eventuality -- merely intrusive and annoying.

She paused at the threshold where it opened into the courtyard outside. Sound of blaster fire filled the air; as did the colors of death. The Inquisitor paused and then drew upon The Force. It was not often people saw Lliara use it openly, but there was one ability above all others she knew well -- how to conceal her existence from the senses. It had its drawbacks, but only for those that were impatient. After so many years, the Mirialan had made killing as much an Art as Science itself -- precision and timing were instrumental.

Cloaked from sight, Lliara strode down the steps toward those fighting below.

The battle raged on. The sound of blasters were as a chaos of the damned screaming into the night; eager to welcome the dead among their number. Perhaps sated they would grow quiet. For a time.

There was, however, another way to silence the howls of rage and defiance of the intruders.

A long, thin spike flipped out from Lliara's forearm just before she plunged it into the side of a man's neck. Her other hand had clamped down over their mouth to keep even the sound of death from croaking between stained lips. She eased them down to the ground, and stepped over their corpse. Two others off to the left stood too close together. For them, needles flung across the distance pricked their flesh; they cursed and then dropped as puppets with their strings cut. The right concentration of poison made all the difference in the world.

It was careful work. Moving among them from the rear. A stray bolt now and again came close to hitting her since those "friendly" to her weren't even aware of her presence. That just made it all the more exhilarating. She could just imagine the looks of the guards as they saw the number of foes drop even when no bolt came near where they stood. Confusion? Shock? Perhaps they thought it the Emperor's Will.

Once the small gathering was blissfully silent, Lliara released the cloak and settled back against one of the barricades that'd been used for cover. The guards trained their weapons on her the moment she appeared, but kept from firing with an upraised hand by the dark figure. A flick sent blood free of the spike. "Other positions are holding?" Their report would give her time to catch her breath. It took energy and concentrating to hold a cloak while slaughtering people. Matters had only just begun; Lliara wouldn't allow herself to grow tired so soon.

Her helm tipped back at the mention of the enemy's stronghold in orbit. The Malsheem. Delightful. Should she venture up there and ask them a few questions, or tend to the rabble down here?

"Two yet live. See they're deposited in a cell. There will be Questions for them later," Lliara commanded before she lifted her weight off the barricade and set back into motion. She wasn't getting any younger standing there.

Darth Malum of House Marr | Domina Prime | Open

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Tag: Darth Carnifex​

​

As the Dread Emperor met the Twice-Tyrant, their conversation would be short. The eyes of the Empyrean turned black and star like in the first 3 inches of Carnifex's movement - above them the sky turning black as was possible. Even those in orbit would see the massive blackened circle hanging over the castle of Vader. An eclipse of the darkness that existed within this place, overwhelmed by the simplest of actions of the Emperor.​

​

In the next few inches, as Empyrean's mind processed the movements, the sensations of the battle, his staff pushed forward just slightly to launch an earthen spike from the ground to catch Carnifex like a stake through his gut. The blade that strike for his head came swift, but it too was seen if not felt - and his staff caught it on the dark steel core of its shaft, pushing the Dark Lord back sliding across the ground.​

​

Frowning, Empyrean looked upon the Dark Lord of Old, and let the mist of his arm form before him.​

​

"Let the past die, and fall away. If we are to succeed, it will be with new blood - not the stagnation of your corrupt mind.", he said with a growing disgust.​

​

He leaned his saber forward, couched in his armpit as he pointed it to the Emperor. Being a force saber, the blade was only reliant on the strength of his pressure. Empyrean was confident he could even hit a star destroyer with it if he focused - but he didn't need that now. All he needed was a few meters, for it to shoot out like a laser to destroy everything in front of him.​

​

And so the Force Saber did, black with red tinge, crossing those many meters in only the blink of an eye, twisted by Empyrean to catch Carnifex in his midsection. The Dark Lord was strong, he had no doubt this would not kill him - but he was old and dogged. Even Bane could not escape age, and Carnifex had grown long past his date of retirement.​

​

Let it be now he lost his pension.​

 

[Darth Temerant]

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Objective 1: Duel of the Fates
Location: Ground level, Legion Camps
TAGS: Darth Xyrah Darth Strosius



Temerant huffed as he took a seat. He'd lost count of how many droids he'd destroyed, and there was seemingly no end to them. They just kept coming. And of course, there was the ocassional Kainite Sith amongst them. It had been some time since Temerant had had to make a full display of his combat abilities, fending off several saber-wielding enemies at one point as he was identified as a major threat.

He checked himself. His combat armor was singed in places, and had taken some minor damage, but it was behaving wonderfully. His helm had not fared so well, but it had done its job, saving him from a lethal blow, an open crack left in it through which a single, glacial hue peered over the forces. He brought his hand to it and practically ripped off the upper half, which split open, leaving his upper head exposed, respirator still in place and fully functional. The black helm split as it hit the ground.

He had to give it to the Kainites. This was a masterful display of tactics, and whatever happened, generations of soldiers would study the events of this day for centuries to come, if not millenia. This was it. This was the end-all, be-all of the civil war.

"X3, do you copy?" he asked through the private channel that linked him to his protocol droid, his right hand man.

"Master. It is a relief to hear from you," the droid came back, holding back the usual sass. "Your feed was scrambled, and your armor's was giving back some troubling feedback."

"I'm alright," the man reassured him. "But we're losing," he growled.

There was no two ways about it. He looked over the regrouped legions, as they gathered their wits, mourned their losses and tended to their many wounded. Their forces were flesh and blood, after all. Beings of emotion, subject to suffering and tiredness. Their enemy, for the most part, had no such weakness.

"...We are," the droid admitted. "The situation does look dire, does it not?"

Temerant nodded faintly, not bothering to respond. "We need to take down that mining facility," he grumbled. "But given what we've seen so far... What does your probability matrix say about the chances we're headed into a trap?" he asked. He was a member of the Order of Her Shadow, after all. A condecorated Knight Inquisitor, even if few were privy to his achievements. By design, he always expected the worst.

"That they are very high," the droid confirmed. "And even if you take them out, that does not guarantee..."

"No," Temerant interrupted him. "But there is likely a command center inside there, yes?"

"Most likely," the droid agreed.

"What we really need is to stop these droids," he stopped, considering his options. "Access protocol, F32 dash 7," he commanded then.

"...It requires a voice command, Master," X3 noted, seeming almost confused by the fact he did not have direct access to one of his Master's contingencies.

"Soliloquy," Temerant input the password.

There was a brief pause as X3 accessed the file.

"...Oh. Oh! I see why you would not want me to access this, Master..." X3 remarked. "This is... ingenious."

"Hrmph," Temerant grunted. "I can't take credit for the idea. It would not be the first time it is done. Do you think you can do it?"

"I... Yes. Yes Master. I need a moment to prepare the data rods... But I think so," there was a pause. "You designed me for this," the droid almost gasped.

"Not specifically, but yes, it is part of your functions, in case something like this ever happened," the Knight Inquisitor acknowledged.

There was a moment of silence.

"X3?" Temerant grunted, concerned their link had been scrambled.

"I am sorry, Master. For a moment there I thought I was going to let out a little tear. My programming was trying to process this unexpected development. I am honoured that you would trust me to do this," he remarked bluntly. "I... did not know that was possible."

"Don't get sentimental on me," Temerant gruffed. "It's even more insufferable than your shit-talking."

"Nerf herder," the droid countered, thought there was an almost endearing inflexion to his robotic voice.

Temerant smirked. "Bucket," he responded, though without the usual derision that tangled the droid's circuits. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"...You understand that the casualties will be heavy, and that there is a very high probability that neither of us will survive this, yes?" the droid asked.

"Yes," Temerant answered bluntly.

"I... Am not particularly fond of this outcome, Master. We could just run away. Our ship is secure, and we can make it out. Find somewhere safe."

"If the Kainites win, nowhere will be safe, X3. And I do not run," he growled.

The droid actually sighed. "No. Of course you do not, you barve-headed man," he resigned himself to the fact, though there was a slight hint of admiration, for what it was worth. "I... Am happy you brought me into existence, Master," the droid admitted tentatively.

Temerant furrowed his brow, resting his forehead into his palm. "...I am happy I did too, X3," he acknowledged. "Now get to work. How much time do you need?"

"Already on it. I'll need a few minutes, plus a little more to bring the data rods to you," he confirmed. "What are you going to do?" he queried.

Temerant looked over their broken forces. "What I always do," he growled. "I am going to take control of the situation."

***
​

The Knight Inquisitor had stepped upon a battleship's roof. From there, he could see a large portion of their forces, and they, him. It was not like him to put himself out there for all to see. Usually, he worked in the shadows. He was a ghost, and in his anonimity, he found strength. This went against every protocol he followed...

The words of Darth Empyrean rang in his head.

Kark it. He would probably be dead in the morrow.

He focused on his connection with the force... and then he spoke. Using a controlled version of force bellow, his voice washed over the large camp like a shockwave.

"LISTEN TO ME," he demanded, his gruff voice charged with authority. Soon enough, most soldiers had turned to witness he who so boldly commanded their attention.

"I will not lie to you. The situation is dire," he began. "The Kainites have pulled a fast one on us. They have tricked us. They have cut us off from the rest of our troops, and their own are relentless. Even the Mors Mon is in danger of falling this day. We are losing," he stated bluntly. Silence washed over the camp. They knew this, but hearing it out loud from a Sith did little to assuage their feelings.

Nevertheless, Temerant watched over them, standing tall and proud as he allowed the gravity of the situation to sink into them. "And to make a bad situation worse, this planet is fething hotter than a hutt's fart!" he grumbled.

This, at the very least, earned a murmur from the crowd, many of the soldiers chuckling and nodding to the crude observation. Even in war, levity had its place. Perhaps it was even needed.

"Right now, the Kainites have the upper hand!" he stressed. "But make no mistake! This is not a reflection of their strength, but their FEAR!" he proclaimed. "They use dirty tactics and the element of surprise because they fear our strength, and dare not meet us face first! They cut us off from our own because they fear a united front! A united Imperium! For they know nothing can overcome us when we're together! And they send bloody mindless clankers after us because they fear what we would do to them if we got their hands on them! They fear our tenacity! Our audacity! They fear our numbers, for their own pale in comparison to our own!"

There was a shift in the air as his words captivated their audience, murmurs of agreement slowly beginning to spread.

"Carnifex and his Kainites had their chance, and they failed!" he declared. "But like a weed, they refuse to die, to allow something better to grow! They place all their faith in a single man, who's vanity cannot allow him to accept that anyone but himself could be right! They fail to see the beauty of our new order, the vision of our Emperor! A society in which every man and woman can aspire to be Sith! To reach greatness, and leave it writ upon the very stars, that all might bear witness to their legacy!" Excitement was beginning to flourish more avidly amongst the ranks. Some clapped, some cheered, and many even trained holo-cams upon Temerant as he gave his speech. "They underestimate our resilience! Our ferocity! Our heart and our determination! Even now, the whole galaxy stands in awe of what we have achieved in so short a time! No one fights like us! No one believes like us! We are a new breed, far more exceptional than any who have come before! And the Kainites will lose on this day, because we have something they could never have! EACH OTHER!"

One could feel it. The electricity in the air. It was working. The people were rallying, infused with renewed vigour and a dogged determination to win this thing. Temerant gave them a moment to hype each other up, fists shot upwards, shouts of encouragement and banging of plates resounding all over as they turned to their comradery and ideals for succour and strength.

"I am a Knight Inquisitor!" he let them know then. "It is my duty to protect the greatness and sanctity of this new Empire! But my name does not matter! That is who I am!" he continued. "But more importantly, I am Sith! And when I look at you, I do not see soldiers!" There was a pause at this. Some confused by his words. All expectant. "I see my brothers and sisters! I see the brave new face of the Empire! I see the living gods of a new age! I! SEE! SITH!" he pounded his chest with every word. The people roared in celebration of this new shift.

"You!" Temerant pointed at soldier near the front, his batallion at his back. "I saw you and your unit out there, and look at you! You led them against impossible odds, and not a single one fell under your leadership!" he proclaimed. It was true, too. These people had been in the thick of it with him, and he had taken note of them. "What is your name?!" he demanded to know.

All eyes were on the man, who was now standing proud. "Karrak Avelius, my Lord!" he called back.

"WRONG!" Temerant declared. "For I dub thee Darth Indomitus, the Undaunted, Knight of the Imperium!"

Gasps filled the air alongside a barrage of cheers. Darth Indomitus' men smashed their weapons on the grounds to the rhythm of 'ah oo's'! This was... unusual. Perhaps even unprecedented. But Temerant gave them no time to collect their thoughts.

"You!" he pointed to a large Arthurian woman, who held a mini-gun at her side. "What is your name?!" he demanded once more.

"Ralla Knalos, my Lord!" the woman did not skip a beat, stating it confidently.

"WRONG AGAIN!" the Knight Inquisitor declared. "For I saw you hold the front by yourself with that thing, mowing the bloody clankers like they were overgrown grass! I dub thee Darth Scythia, Bane of all Clankers! Knight of the Imperium!"

It was unstoppable now. He had ignited something in them they thought lost. Perhaps, something they didn't even know they had in them to begin with. And it was infectious. Like a disease, filling them with eagerness, like a wild fire, consuming everything else.

"And you!" he pointed to a specialist, sniper rifle in hand. A far more petite woman, her confidence not matching the other two.

"M-me my Lord?!" she timidly called back, doing everything she could to make herself heard.

"No, my dotty grandmother! Yes you!" Temerant countered, still pointing at her even as he earned more laughs. "Your name!"

"G-Gerthrard Rhinox, my Lord!" she drew everything she had in her to respond.

"No longer! For I saw you shoot three enemy crafts out of the karking air, one right after the other!" he let everyone know. "Straight to the pilot's heads! Never saw anything like it! And I'm pretty sure you saved my life at least twice out there! Who knows how many more?!" he noted. "You might have trouble with public speaking, but I'll be damned if you're not the finest shot I ever saw! And so I dub you Darth Aquilum, the Sharp Eye of the True Empire! KNIGHT OF THE IMPERIUUUM!"

Darth Aquilum was speechless, even as people crowded her to pat her on the back and congratulate her.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" Temerant demanded to know, his arms opening wide.

"WE ARE SITH!" The crowd roared back.

"I CANNOT HEAR YOU!" he insisted.

"WE ARE SITH!" they shouted as one with even more fervour.

"THEY CANNOT HEAR YOU!" Temerant pointed behind him then, to the battlefields beyond.

The response was deafening as they adopted the mantra as if their very life depended on it. It very well might. "WE ARE SITH! WE ARE SITH! WE ARE SITH!"

Temerant took hold of his lightsaber then, and pointed it to the heavens. It ignited, crackling crimson above his head. "Let's show these Kainite karkers what we're made of! FOR GLORY! FOR THE IMPERIUM! FOR THE SITH!"

If the forces beyond had not heard them before, they certainly would take note now. Red and purple sabers rose in the air all among them, even as blasters began firing up at the skies as an earth shattering, triumphant cry washed over the land.

"New Darths! Report to the command center, at once!" he instructed, before jumping off the ship.

He did not know if he believed his own words. But in that moment, after seeing their reaction, a part of him really wanted to. He tapped his holo-deck, sending a call through a private channel.

"Officer Attani," he contacted the head of his task force.

"Hoooo-ly chit my Lord!" came a response. "I did not know you had that in you! People are losing their fething minds over here!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants," Temerant grunted. "I need you and the gang at the command center."

"We're already en-route," the man responded promptly.

"This is why I like you," Temerant nodded in satisfaction.

"Oh really? Do I get a shiny knighthood for that?" the man bantered in response.

"If we survive this, you just might," Temerant shrugged, not without amusement as he himself headed to the command post. "Darth Temerant out."

***​

Temerant arrived at the command center unobstructed: none would bother to try and stop him after his little stunt. They likely didn't even want to.

He entered the room to a group of high ranking officers and Sith, all looking at him expectantly. The people he'd just knighted stood quietly in a corner, unsure of what they were doing there.

"Who's in charge here?" he asked.

"I am," a man in uniform with a bunch of insignias upon it, marking his rich, military history responded. He was large and bulky, with a bushy beard that grew in patches around the scars on his face. "Legate Thuras Trashius," he identified himself, giving him a curt nod.

Temerant dipped his own chin in respect. "Legate," he acknowledged him. "I am Darth Temerant. I have a plan. And I would have your ear, if you'd be so kind," he requested.

"You can't," a large pureblood in battle armor and dark robes approached him, golden rings hanging from his tendrils, eyes warped by the dark side. "You can't do that. You can't just start knighting anyone you please and come in here like you own the place."

Temerant frowned even more deeply than usual, turning to the Sith, who was large enough to stand face to face as he encroached on his personal space. "I can't?" he grunted. "I am Sith. There is nothing I can't do if I put my mind to it. And unless you weren't watching... I just did," he growled firmly in response. "And you are?"

"Darth Yllara," the man responded. "Lord of the Sith," he proclaimed triumphantly. There seemed to be more he had to say, but he was swiftly interrupted.

"Good for you," Temerant responded dryly. "Now if you don't mind, the Legate and I need to talk. You are being rude."

There was a tremor in the force as the pureblood squared up with him, demanding his attention.

"I don't give a kark whether you are a Knight Inquisitor or the Sith'ari reborn. You have no authority here," the man responded. "You talked a big game out there, but I can't even sense you in the force. I wonder why that is?" he taunted. "You are just a gnat, playing at being a krayt dra..."

He never finished his sentence, nor did his precognition abilities warn him of the incoming headbutt that floored him.

"There. Now you have a reason. There are others," Temerant gruffly informed him. "Now stay out of my way. We have a war to win."

"You broke my nothe!" the Sith Lord proclaimed in shock, going for his lightsaber. "I will kill you!" he roared in a rage.

However, the sound of blasters being trained upon him, as well as a lightsaber being placed over his chin, gave him pause, the man looking to the woman in shock. His apprentice, the Knight Inquisitor surmised. He quirked a brow to the unexpected support, but offered those who'd come to his aid curt nods of acknowledgement, before squatting before the Sith Lord.

"If there is a time to stand united, this is it, Yllara," the man remarked. "We are all in this together. And you just threatened to kill me. So if you're not with us... You must be against us," he remarked.

The Sith's eyes widened.

"N-no. Wait. We can..."

"You are demoted," Temerant made a fist, and the Sith's head seemed to implode in and on itself as he crushed it like a grape. He stood up. "Anyone else have an issue with my being here or my behaviour?"

Silence.

"Good. I will gladly respond for my actions once this is over," he let them know bluntly. "Legate? May we?" he requested once more.

The Legate nodded in a grim fashion. "Of course."

"Thank you," Temerant gave him a respectful nod moving to join him.

***
​

Orders had been barked. Communication channels had been established. Pilots were being sent with messages. Everything was on a need to know basis, but they had a plan. A risky plan. A dangerous plan. But a plan, and one the Legate was not opposed to.

"Everything in order, Legate?" Temerant asked.

The man nodded. "Yes. Events are underway. We will attempt to draw out and distract as many of their forces as we can before you give us the signal, that our task force moves in to destroy that generator. But we still don't know what awaits us in that mining facility. And there's a good chance you won't be able to communicate with us in there."

"Well, should I succeed, you won't really need a signal, will you?" Temerant pointed out.

"Fair enough. And if you don't?" the Legate countered.

"Then you move on with plan Bershk. And pray to the Gods that you can withstand whatever comes next," Temerant remarked. "Our opponent is brilliant. Chances of failure are high. But we have to try."

"That we do," the Legate agreed, before offering his forearm. "Good luck out there," he wished him.

Temerant took the forearm and shook it firmly. "You too," he bid in turn.

With a gruff exhale, he got to move. He was about to contact X3, before he spotted a familiar figure.

"Darth Strosius!" the man greeted him with a strange sense of relieved recognition. "Thank the bloody Bogan," he muttered. "I could very much use your help," he admitted. Alone, it was almost certain he wouldn't make it. But with Darth Strosius at his side? Fellow Tsis'Kaar, Apprentice to the Mistress of Shadows Herself? Well... They might just stand a karking chance.

 

[Darth Moskvin]

Delusions of Saviour
xxSlayerxx

Location: Outside a war torn civil war battlefield
Objective: Kill...Eat...Repeat II
Gear: Staff of the Damned / Talisman of the Witch / Magical Gems / Bow of Immolation / Hilt
Familiar: Archimedes
Tags:​

With Archie rested upon my left shoulder, his head nudging my left jaw, we watched a battle between two forces of power upon a statue: both trying to dominate the Order. And as was told to me beforehand just before being dispatched, no prisoners: which I translated into food. The fighting below was near artistic work; the ground was the canvas and the blood in which the art was created with was a scene of unholy bliss: I had to grip below to feel my desirables to ensure this was real and not just fantasy. So much death below, and the aroma of blood swirling about was just orgasmic to my senses as a schoolboy stumbling into a girl's locker room: aww, the stench of innocence. And I finally began my descent into the world of madness, where my beloved Tsis'kaar loyalists where clashing with no fear of death against those loyal to the Kainates, that Archie chirped I was not properly equipped with the weapon to fight. He was right, after all. But wrong too. Oh Archie, I thought, you know who and what I am silly bird.

Reaching down I picked up a lightsaber hilt, examining the mechanics behind it. Maybe Archie was right, maybe it was time for me to fabricate one...but until then: I closed my eyes uttering backward incantation words from spells bestowed upon me and slowly, corpses of non-force users began to awaken. I can raise any dead, but It's more prudent to raise the Force's untouched, they whine and moan less than my ex-girlfriend. Archie flapped crazily and took to sanctuary far from the dangers of battle. Now, most necromancers can only raise the dead: I can actually hold conversations with them. Not quite sure in my life when that happened, possibly I'm undead too and it's what we call in this profession as respectable communication among the dead. The living is slow to grasp.

 

[Lord Reficite]

Objective ???: Resurrection
Tags: Open
Equipment: Tattered Cloak of Converting, Helm of Force Phantasm, Personal Double-Bladed Lightsaber​

The sparks of battle came from afar, far further away than he ever remembered a battle being on this pathetic yet fireball of dark side energy. In the thousand years to two thousand years removed, he had seen a true rise in the Dark Sides energy, feeding yet also movement of its old Nexus. The Dark Side, while still strong on the planet...has long since shifted.

Standing on the ruins of an abandoned mining platform, the magma bubbled a hundred feet below him. Standing on top of long metallic arms, a platform that was barely held up by wires and metal that has been welded time and time again. The facility was once a proud monument, this was the home of his resurrections of people he considered...acquittances, allies, people that would fight alongside him. People that like himself, could cheat death time and time again, to rid the galaxy of those they deemed undesirable.

The facility itself, had fallen into disrepair. The runes he had once placed, had to be updated once more...had to be given its sacrifice. The whole area around him, was laid out with bodies of Kainite followers, bodies that now resembled husks. The battle around him, was not one bit of concern for himself. The Sith Order was currently an enigma in the galaxy still, an unstable puppet state far as he had noticed...these other foes he so happened to encounter? Just fresh sacrifices to ensure the revival of an old apprentice.

The helmet of his own started to swirl, it was of anticipation. To bring back those of the dead, to the world of the living in full, requires a great deal of sacrifice. The Dark Lord of Rebirth knew that the other was waiting, so was he once awakened once more. The platform was covered with new runes, with new ways to revive and use the place as an area of summoning. The metal platform he stood on, creaked as blood was all over his feet and all across the ground, covered in a strange ritual circle, surrounded with sith words and symbols.

Giving a sigh, one of preparation, the lightsaber would soon unhook from his belt and float in front of Darth Reficite. The immense focus that was soon flooding into the area an immense pool of the uneasy feeling of the Dark Side. Over a hundred souls would soon leave the helmet of the Dark Lord of Rebirth, swirling around his entire being. Speaking in Sith, the helmet, gloves and boots of the Darth would be soon dripping with blood, coming out of his own body. Roughly translated, the Sith Words echo out loud as part of this ceremony could be seen for a few miles.

"Netherworld, hear this cry! I seek those of damnation to bring forth back into my realm! My spirit and my words, bring forth my victim! Bring forth him and be rewarded with tribute! Bring forth my Sith, Bring forth my Gatherer!"​

Part of the sky would darken, a small rumble of heat lightning would occur above. Almost each moment, it seemed to be growing stronger. He would indeed get an ally into the fold. The only question is if he was to be stopped or if anyone was to interrupt the ritual at large.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Objective II
Allies: Kainates
Enemies: All the other inferior Sith and their friends

Every rebirth was baptized in blood. And Lirka was overjoyed that this time it would be the blood of the Sith that baptized her new form, the Kainate assault had lit the destructive fires of her foul heart. A chance to reach out and bring about the true suffering of the Dark onto the Capital, it was a glorious thing. And with it's brutality, the slaver had become general: the same savage tactics she had used to pacify Moridinae and the old Sith-Imperial borderlands brought down upon Jutrand: mass orbital bombings and thunderous artillery, Lirka cared little if they would conquer rubble or a city. She merely wanted to get into the thick of it and bring upon pandemonium.

And of course, she needed the practice.

Few understood what it was like to be reborn, to have your flesh remolded from its primordial state. This was the third time Lirka had been through it, and these golden years of rejuvenated "youth" were going to be the best. As she examined the assortment of Kainate warriors around her the drop-ship made its way planet-side, Lirka had energy that her crumbling form of the past decades couldn't have ever achieved: she had become a new unholy combination of alchemy, cybernetics, and gene-science.

With a rumble of the battle outside, the drop ship shook and Lirka rose from her seat: a plethora of cables torn off as she stood. Her helmet's lenses flaring to life as streams of information ran through her site, heavy steps carried her to the drop ships down: and with a thunderous knock and a barked command it hissed open. Air rushing in, and the true glory of the aerial carnage in front of her.

It was a holy thing, truly.

Taking a step onto the drop ship's door, she looked to the city beneath her: ever distant. The light of conflict glistening on the shiny new metals that made up much of the powersuit. Raising a clawed fist high towards the sky and the Malsheem, she roared out a cry in her alien tongue, a cry drowned out by the thundering dogfighting around her.

"<<O' supreme Dark, the End of All Things! I offer a thousand hearts to you this day, witness your champion risen anew!>>"

With prayers aside, she took a step back: getting into position to begin her sprint. Oh how she had missed doing this. Darth Malum of House Marr was correct, the battle was going to be decided from the skies: though maybe not how he thought. Lirka burst forward like a lightning bolt, throwing herself from the drop ship's open door to the ground below. The conflict zoomed past her in a blur.

She fell down to the city like a missile, nearing the end of her descent repulsors flared to life and slowed her fall. Still, she hit the ground like an artillery shell, a small crater left in her wake. Rising from the dust cloud, her eyes glowing in the haze the mighty blade she had become so well known for burst into life, and Lirka Ka entered the killing field.

She made no distinction between military and civilian, all things must die for the Dark today. Old memories of a time long ago on forgotten battlefields came into her mind, the memories of the butcher she was before coming into her mind and pushing her forward with even greater acts of savagery. The suit pushed her further than ever before, each swing mechanically precise: maximum suffering before a quick fatal blow to follow, her path of carnage pushed along, taking her towards one of the main streets.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They moved beyond the realm of thought, only instinct remained.

His blade seemed to move faster than His mind could command it, sweeping down as the sharpened pillar of earth broke through the stone floor. The stroke swiped the tip away, blunting the pillar, before His left arm, wreathed in armored gauntlet, reached out and grasped the detruncated pillar. Power flowed up from His core, and down through His arm. The stone warbled like a heat mirage, and then detonated with a burst of blue flame and crackling electricity. The raised ground where the pillar emerged shattered, a shockwave of monumental energy rippling out through the floor and rattling the very foundations of the castle.

Both were exceptionally skilled masters of the Dark Side, each having a wide array of powers at their disposal. This would be no mere struggle, nothing so crass as what the lesser Sith engaged in around them. This was a conflict of titanic proportions, for the last time they had traded blows the very fabric of space and time around them shuddered with every blow. Their movements were elevated beyond what was considered mortal, the Dark Side flowing through each of its champions without limit, without restraint.

Carnifex took a step forward onto the broken ground, steam rising from where His armored boot applied pressure. "Amalgamation of a thousand minds, coagulate of a thousand failures. The Worm burdens you with boundless futility." As Empyrean prepared his next attack, the Dark Lord of the Kainate held His ground. "Your vision strays, Darth Empyrean. You exhaust yourself here, while Jutrand burns." The weapon turned towards Carnifex, and the power of the Dark Side rushed forth from it to skewer Him straight through. But as the beam of energy neared, faster than the eye could comprehend, the Dark Lord seemingly vanished before it could strike.

The beam continued onward, cutting through many walls in a straight line before the energy lost form and scattered into nothingness. It wasn't a heartbeat later that the Dark Lord reappeared directly above Empyrean, one leg pulled close to His midsection while the other was fully extended. He fell with the weight of a collapsing building, the trajectory of His boot aimed straight for the top of Empyrean's head; careening like a meteor to crush it into paste.

Darth Empyrean ​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Duel of Fates
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Temerant / Darth Xyrah

Their assault on Mustafar had been a well planned venture, intended to put an end to the threat that the Kainites and their leader posed to the Sith Order. The Malsheem itself had even been in sight when the Mors Mon and its accompanying fleet had emerged into the system. And then it all went down hill from there. Last Alisteri had heard of the battle in orbit the fleet had come under a sudden yet expectedly brutal attack and the worldcraft was nowhere in sight.

Of course that had been over an hour ago now, when the dropship that he had been flying in on was still airborne. Fire from the ground tore through much of the initial landing forces before they even touched the ground and rendered what escorts they had to either flee or be shot down with them. Ever since emerging from the burning wreck of the ship with the handful of other survivors the Knight had been busy cleaving droids in two. They were vast, uncountable even, and held no fear nor hesitation as they marched towards the crashed ships and gunned down their passengers.

At some point during their fighting and moving to try and find a better place to stand their ground, Alisteri and the other survivors had managed to link up with a few more groups to make their stand. For all his disdain for the Eternals and their leadership, he couldn't deny that the First Legion had more than proved themselves worthy this day.

Fighting alongside them almost reminded him of the days of the Sith Empire, of the days spent fighting next to the Legionnaires of the mighty Sith-Imperial army. The nostalgia did little to help win the day though, and so he soldiered on and kept carving through the ranks of droids and occasional Kainite warrior that dared to try and rush into their lines. Behind him a command post to try and organize the scattered landing forces had been established but he didn't bother setting foot into it.

He had no intention of helping plan for whatever it was they did to try and salvage this failed excursion, better to let the Eternals figure it out for themselves since they were the ones getting them all into this mess. He'd much rather be slashing into droids anyway. However even he had to rest every now and then since they had some proper defenses sorted out now. The masked man sat on the ash covered ground and leaned back against a crate that had been stocked with ammunition but now had been left empty due to the heavy fighting.

"That corpse is just lucky that this one isn't going to end like his last clash with Carnifex." He muttered under a sigh as he stared up at the sky, blasters echoing in the distance. "He only has one faction to deal with. for now." Alisteri's eyes nearly closed until a familiar voice called out his title and they snapped open again.

He turned his head to spot Darth Temerant and cocked his head to the side slightly. "Help? I think this whole fething planet needs our help." The Knight sighed as he got to his feet and brushed himself off, adopting a more formal stance that the other Inquisitor was more familiar with. "What is it that you require? I thought the Legion were holding well enough that I could have a breather for a few minutes."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The unbridled sensations of war was an easy thing for a Sith to lose themselves in - feeding off the rampant adrenaline, the anxiety, the fear, the intensity. It took a fundamental master to control themselves within that turbulence; Empyrean and Carnifex were in that regard, much the same. Powerful yes, but calculating beyond measure.​

​

"Your Empire was nothing but tinder. Odavessa was nothing more than fuel. Let Jutrand be the same. I would burn them all to unify our Order under a paradigm of strength."​

​

The snap of his force saber retreated when Carnifex teleported, as fast as it had come out. To above Empyrean was not unexpected, but the eternal sight of his eyes told him exactly where his foot intended to land. The dark arm of the Emperor deformed and spread like a cloud to catch the kick - but it would alone not be enough to stop the titan's rush. Empyrean twisted and braced as the force of it went through even his manifested arm.​

​

A shockwave cracked the stone around them, leaving Vader's castle more destitute than when they can come. It shook through the Emperor, pushed him backwards as the fringes of his cloak tattered and burned from the energy - but he stood confident in the next second. He did not retreat further.​

​

Tapping the end of his staff against the ground, shadows formed around them once as it had before. Sith Lords Carnifex would recognize as the Line of Two existed within dark shapes, slowly circling them. Empyrean stood stalwart amongst them as he watch the shadows tilt and lean, prod and pull. The thousand minds that weighed upon Empyrean manifested before them, lifting shadow blades towards the butcher king.​

​

Then they struck in unison, some up, some down, all with the intent to kill and maim.​

​

Darth Carnifex​

 

[Darth Xyrah]

Objective 1 - Duel of the Fates
Location: Klegger Corp Mining Facility
Post: 2

Saryn continued surveying the battle reports flooding into his command centre with great interest. His stategy on the surface had gone flawlessly. Casualty numbers for Empyrean's loyal troops were rising exponentially. This master stroke would undoubtedly seal his reputation amongst the Sith Order. Yet he had intentionally allowed a small pocket of resistance near his command post to survive. His scouts had reported that Darth Temerant and Darth Solipsis had both survived their landing with a small number of hardened troops.

Saryn grinned wickedly. "....Just as planned.", he muttered to himself, before turning to one of his Tactical Droids. "Enact phase two. Pull the droids assaulting their position back and lure them into our trap here. Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.", he said, smirking mischievously, glancing towards the entrance to the conference room in the command center. ".....And my surprise is waiting for them."

Darth Temerant
Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Temerant]

​

Objective I: Duel of the Fates
Location: Legion Camps, Mustafar, Ground Level
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Xyrah

Temerant quirked a brow at the man's response, offering him a dip of his chin in acknowledgement as he stood to meet him. It was undeniable that he looked tired and worse for wear, but still, he matched Alisteri's posture as they came face to face.

"Ever the optimist, I see," he gruffed with subdued amusement. "If you'll excuse the language, we're getting our bloody arses kicked out there, and the Mors Mon may fall, shall this keep up," he grumbled. "That place is practically a bloody city. If it does, so does the morale of all our troops."

He let out a gruff exhale at that. "I am en route to infiltrate the mining facility. I've got a plan, and the Legate has green-lit it. I will not lie to you, Darth Strosius, the chances of success are low. And even if it does work, I have little hopes of making it out of there alive..."

Temerant gave a brief look around, then proceeded to explain the minutiae of the operation to his peer. In the meantime, the Legion forces began their assault on the mining facility. However, they did not seem entirely willing to hit them with full force, keeping the thick of their numbers in wait. There were, after all, other fronts all over the planet to consider, and perhaps they had caught wind of the lure being set, weary of engaging them fully.

"...So as you can imagine, I could use a competent partner in this," Temerant finished explaining his plan to Alisteri. "My own task force is set to provide further distractions. Their own infiltration will hopefully provide some cover for our real goals, even as they work to establish key positions and off-set the balance in our favour..."

"There you are, Master!" a droid made its way towards them. He was a strange thing, clearly inspired in some other protocol models, yet very heavily modified, to the point where it was hard to vislumbrate any part of him that wasn't original to an extent. Clearly, not your standard issue. "Ah, and Darth Strosius, yes? What a pleasant surprise! Big fan, big fan! It is so rarely I get to meet one of Master's peers, and he once told me he did not hate working with you, which let me tell you, is high praise if there ever was..."

"X3..." Temerant pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperated fashion.

"Of course, of course. Here you are, Master," the droid handed him a pair of data rods, which Alisteri would recognize after Temerant's debriefing.

The Knight Inquisitor looked to the Tsis'Kaar then. "So what do you say? Are you in?" he queried.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Duel of Fates
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Darth Temerant / Darth Xyrah

Alisteri returned the little nod and idly rolled his shoulders as he crossed his arms behind his back. He never needed too much of a break from the constant fighting but going nonstop did take a toll. Not even he was inexhaustible. Temerant's assessment of the situation wasn't that far from his own, all in all the Legion was fighting to stay alive just as much as it was fighting for the planet itself. The fleet in orbit had a chance at turning the tide if they could beat back the Kainites there but the guns on the ground were no doubt tearing holes in their ships and squadrons. "It's quite a mess we've been thrown into this time."

His head inclined as the mention of an infiltration was made, listening intently with only the occasional tilt of his head serving as his response during the explanation. It was risky, but given the situation so was any other option or plan. Survival was far from guaranteed even if they did succeed, he didn't expect the droids would be taking prisoners after all. But if it did work then regardless of whether they survived or not both the fleet and the First Legion would have a fighting chance. Provided that the Eternalists themselves didn't squander that chance or pull any other risky stunts.

"That you will. Just getting inside is going to be a nightmare, of that I have little doubt." The Knight glanced to his side as a droid approached them, raising an eyebrow in surprise as it addressed him. It even went so far as to compliment him, perhaps it was a diplomatic droid of some sort? "...Thank you. I enjoyed my mission alongside your master, he's competent and efficient." He regarded the construct with a small nod.

Alisteri pondered on the plan for a moment, idly tapping a finger against the bottom of his mask as he rolled the question around in his mind. What choice did they have? Sit by and let the endless droids keep shooting at them? Even if he didn't accompany Temerant the plan would go off anyway and he'd be subjected to the results of it regardless.

Then his mind drifted to the fleet in orbit, to the Mors Mon and its escorts that were getting torn apart by other ships and the planetary defenses. But if those guns were offline then strikes against the droid armies could be made, and other targets as well. Other targets... "Yes. I shall not stand by and allow our forces to simply attrition to nothing. I shall accompany you on this mission Inquisitor Temerant. I shall assist in disabling whatever they're hammering our ships with, that will even the odds a bit. Lead on."

 

[Lord Reficite]

Objective ???: Resurrection
Tags: Open
Equipment: Tattered Cloak of Converting, Helm of Force Phantasm, Personal Double-Bladed Lightsaber​

The crackle of lightning struck around Darth Reficite, each one threatening to tear a hole into the reality itself. The Runes shook nearby, each moment seemed to pass on by with another tidal wave of dark side energy. Far from this place, it could be felt, that Dark Side ebbing and flowing at a near constant rate. All the while, he could feel such immense power coming from the other side....not just a former marauder coming, but another being almost, if not more stronger than his old marauder.

Finally, the ritual reached its apex as the lightsaber opened up for a brief moment to show the red crystal inside. Swirling rather fast, the Force blinded everyone nearby as the runes shattered from all around, the souls consumed in a vastly hungry attempt to devour all it could. With it...two beings fell out, each being vastly different from the other as they collapsed. Darth Reficite stood with his helmet almost caked in blood, looking down at the two individuals as a simple motion brought to them clothing...one of his unique talents, the use of Force Teleport. Slowly the one that appeared to be a human, rose up from the floor and took a cloak from one of the two groups of clothing.

"Arise my old...apprentice. Marauder Somnium...welcome to the land of the living once more."

"It has been a long time...is the Galaxy ready?"

"The Galaxy has been long ready...I had been lazy and not seeking...tell me, who is the other on the ground?"

"I do not know...he came along, we were fighting in the endless field of blades, I-"

"Can you corrupt him? Do you have your strength?"

"I certainly can...I feel more than ready."

"Good...corrupt him, we will need strong ones like him to our side...Lord Somnium."

There was a strange look from the other but nodded with a small gleeful smirk, a sickening smirk as he turned and placed both hands onto the others head. Within only a few short moments, there was a loud scream with the pair knelt over the other, both using their abilities to twist the other into their control. The one was powerless to stop them, having been resurrected without understanding why...or knowing what is happening. Soon within minutes, Darth Reficite knew everything about him, stripping him of what made him who the other was...and molded into what he desired. It would end as the chant of High Sith erupted, putting an old Force Artifact, a helmet onto the other as it bounded to the other user.

"You will listen to me...you will spread your emotion, you will spread what you consider the worst of yourself, the experience of life and death, you have taken and given to others like myself...you are under me...you will follow my will, you will rise..."

"Darth Luctus"
​

Slowly the other, almost in a zombie like state, in a trance would follow the words after attempting to resist, after the mental torture given. Standing, Darth Reficite merely pointed to the side and made his intention known. Slowly, the newly christened Darth would walk towards where he was going to be told...a warrior once again risen from the grave.

"Come Lord Somnium...we have work to do."

 

[Darth Luctus]

Objective 1: Duel of Fates
Enemies: Everyone?!
Tags: Darth Strosius Darth Temerant Darth Xyrah
Equipment: Crossguard Lightsaber, Armour of the Forgotten​

"The trap has been set! All our forces will be victorious!"

That was possibly what a series of B1 Kainite thought...or even said before a singular one ran over one of the hills. The screech cry, one of terror from possibly one of the quirkiest moments given as it ran past the other droids, arms up in the air as it had no longer a weapon.

"RUN! RUN!!!"

That was all the droid probably could say before a large Armored Assault Tank flew over the hillside, turning dangerously into the air before impacting onto the other side into a small group of battle droids. Skidding over now upslide down, several droids fired over the hillside at what possibly was a small task force...but instead was just one individual. This singular individual walked in destroyed like armor, clothing that seemed not to make sense and a mask that seemed shrouded in the Dark Side, not even visible to the naked eye.

Walking over, a violently running crossguard lightsaber in red, a former Kainite weapon, starts to flick side to side violently in expert fashion, throwing blaster bolts back at every single target with precision that only those of the mastery of Form III and Form V would ever achieve. One by one, a droid would fall from simple deflection shot, a harsh slash down the side of various different droids. When one even hit the outfit, it bounced off harmlessly. All around, blaster fire would converge yet it did not even seem to phase this strange anomaly of the battlefield.

A STAP would even come by, attempting to fire with repeating cannons to hopefully take down this rogue Sith. Deflecting what he could, some shots impacted onto the armor and stung directly into a small crevice, burning into his body and making a wound on the side. Infuriated, the Sith raised his left hand and grasped onto the STAP, violently throwing it towards a group of Droidikas as it impacted violently, destroying them and walked with authority further towards the lines, towards a singular Kainite Sith.

It was almost watching a horror movie, targeting the singular individual with a majority of the droids being destroyed. While reinforcements would keep pouring in to reinforce, it almost made little different. The Force was now used, the Pushes and Pulls were considered waves, violent waves as it smashed them into the nearest landscape or thrown small groups into the air further away when outnumbered. Finally getting towards the Kainite Sith, they would clash only for a brief moment before like the others, get thrown violently forward once more into a nearby wall.

Grasping his throat with his left hand, he used the Force to drain the very Life Force out of the Sith. Unable to stop him, the Sith would drain even the Force through him...all in view of Darth Temerant and Darth Strosius just a bit far away, just enough to notice from afar the destruction that this one had caused. Dropping the Husk of the Former Sith Kainite, it healed the blaster would inflicted earlier as its head looked up, before twisting to give a crack that could be heard from anyone that got closer...right towards the duos group of soldiers, Sith...A word would escape the Siths mask, moving with authority and violently towards the new group.

"SOULS!"​