Faction Reclamation - The Scouring of Korriban (Sith Order)

[Kyraj]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Zal Aditi | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Nwul | Aliris Tremiru | Crix Maden
• [ _Open ]

Kyraj watched in wonder as the storms of lightning cascaded across the valley and the gates rumbled open. The other sith gathered there lashed out against the specters that rose from the sands until they ceased their assault and became seemingly docile. He nodded. Another test. This one it seems they passed more easily.

As Caedes gave the command to advance he again made his way towards the front of the advancing horde and was among the first into the tunnels. He paced warily at the front of the pack his sabers at the ready but still dormant. He did not trust these ghosts of ash and sand.

Soon they reached large stone doors. Darth Caedes identified them as belonging to the temple of Kor Naskor. The fools cowered in a bastion of darkness while praying their feeble light would save them. He felt the despair on the other side of the door. It seems they had realized their predicament. They knew they were doomed and awaited the end. He breathed it in.

The sith lord who led them reached out and pulled in the force opening the great doors. Kyraj contemplated their victims, huddled in the dark and afraid as they turned to see the new arrivals. Clearly they hadn't been expecting an attack on this front. Caedes' plan had worked. Now all that was left was the purge. He saw the faces of children among the crowd and was suddenly taken back to a memory of when he had been young and afraid. NO! They would have no sympathy from him. Survive and grow strong. That was his path now. That was the way of any who would be worthy of life and freedom. Those who had worth would prove themselves. He would be the flame to the crucible that burned away the unworthy. He suspected that none would remain when all was said and done, but perhaps some might rise as he did and embrace the path of strength. He doubted any here had the will.

"Press them down into the temple's depths. Take whatever you find, whatever you want, whatever you have the power to keep. I only ask one thing of you..." Caedes held up a single finger.
"Leave their faces intact..."
​

With a crackling Kyraj's lightsabers ignited and a pink glow filled the tunnel around him. He stepped past Caedes and rushed forward, the dust of the temple swirling in his wake. As he approached the refugees he gathered power in the force and a wave of concussive power washed over those before him launching bodies and barricades alike into the air and scattering them about the temple. He stopped in the middle of the space he had just cleared and assessed. The jedi had braced themselves against his push and still stood in his way. He made eye contact with them all, one by one before raising his blade and pointing to a zabrak jedi with a blue saber.
"Prove your strength or die."

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake stood with two disintegrating bodies of sith spirits hanging from his hands as they turned into naught but ash and sand. The cloying white mist of their minds traveling up his arms and into his spine. He could already hear the whispers growing as one soul after another joined the churning pot of madness in his spirit. It would take time for him to digest all of his victims this day, he was still not proficient enough in the skill to simply acquire the knowledge from his prey. He needed to let it settle and merge with the growing library of lives at his disposal.

Still, there were some tasty morsels here. Dark Side Powers that he craved were being laid bare, martial techniques, sith secrets, and more importantly... His lips curved into a smile as he parsed through to find the one piece of information he needed right now above the rest. All the others could take the time they needed to settle, but a mental map of the cavernous tombs and corridors? Navigation was key if he wanted to get anything out of all of this. The Gates of Garush were laid bare to him in his minds eye.

He was about to snatch up another Sith Spirit to consume after the last dozen or so when they began to back away, growing servile. He glanced at Darth Caedes who imposed his will on the place and his lips thinned. Damn, preying on any more at this point would garner too much negative attention. He'd have to let things lie and- his eyes went wide as they turned towards the chamber. The number of wretched and lost people just beyond the darkness was staggering. Ah, nature was going to be working overtime today. The survival of the fittest indeed. He drank in the elation with a deep breath and let his head fall back for a moment.

He glanced at Caedes when he gave his declaration and his orders. "Whatever I have the power to keep?" He mused thoughtfully and broke into a manic smile. Greed was the emotion of the day. Greed and Desire. Yes, positive emotions were powerful and love gave him great physical strength, but using the emotion tailored to the moment was even better. He kicked off the ground and darted after Kyraj as the flickering lightsabers burst to life. One of the defenders, a male Rattataki, leveled his Lightsaber at Wake as he approached.

Wake took a deep breath and released a burst of concentrated telepathy, forcing an inordinate amount of joy and warmth out and into his target. The man, prepared to defend himself from negativity and violent force attacks, staggered in shock as a smile twisted his face without his consent. His weapon fell to his side just as Wake landed on his chest, driving his hand down on the man's head. Wake drank deeply, feasting on the know- what's this?

"You hid your children?" Wake hissed and looked down into the brain-dead corpses vacant eyes as the battle exploded around him, "Thank you Sher, I'll take good care of them."

He snatched up the man's lightsaber, and drew a throwing knife out of his coat, tossing it into the throat of an oncoming Ashlan defender and drawing it back with telekenesis. He hopped to his feet and felt another wave of memories wash over him. His eyes went wide and he stumbled once, gripping his head as the memories solidified. Sher knew many of the civilians present. Their roles and... specialties. Wake lowered his hand slowly to his side, a faint twitch itching up his muscles. He glanced towards the clusters of civilians, recognizing faces, putting names to them. Academics. Scientists. Scholars. Politicians. Archivists. Librarians. Historians. If he let the other Sith get to them first, if he ran off seeking the prizes deeper inside... he might lose this trove.

"Guess your daughters will have to wait for their rescue, let's hope they survive," Wake mused darkly and darted away from the 'glorious battle' between defenders and Sith. He had only one target as the white mist of his drain knowledge power began to waft off his fingertips. He'd consume every single mind he could, starting with- a woman cried out in terror as Wake landed in front of her, grabbing her face in a iron-like grip. "You're the shipwright, right?' He snarled.

 

[34125]

Maerae hadn't been expecting a history lesson in the middle of a planetary siege, but she supposed that suited Darth Strosius' style. It suited her just fine anyhow: in the short time she'd known the Sith Knight, he'd already taught her more than the academies had in six years. Maybe not about subservience and murder, but the things he did lecture on were of vital importance to a Sith who truly sought to understand their Order and the Dark Side.

"How likely is it that these Jedi will turn this equipment upon us? I understand the Jedi preach pacifism, but these Ashlan Crusaders seem much more... fanatic and militaristic than their counterparts."

A delve into datastores wasn't exactly thrilling nor bound to end with praise, but it was of vital importance. From what she understood of Darth Strosius, he had a tendency to take on the tasks that other Sith ignored, because they were too concerned with their own bloodlust and glory to actually do anything beyond murder and turn heads. He was a true servant of the Sith Order, which was what she aimed to be at this point in her life.

Personal glory could come later, after she had proven herself worthy of it.

Strosius wanted to be the one to find this equipment, though he didn't elaborate on why. She knew, though, that he held disdain for the Kainites, though the reasoning for that escaped her. She supposed it didn't matter. She was in his service, and therefore she fulfilled his whims. If that meant denying Darth Carnifex and his loyalists, then so be it. If they were swift enough, the Sith Lord would never know, and there would be no reason to fear retribution.

But if he caught wind of such a thing... there would be hell to pay, as there always was for treachery.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Zal Aditi | Kyraj | Darth Nwul | Aliris Tremiru | First Sister
• [ _Open ]

Cries of dread and surprise rang out from the crowd of Ashlan survivors. Like ants before fire, crowds of panicked escapees surged backwards in retreat from the oncoming threat. Civilian blasters raised and fired as Kyraj besieged their frontlines, but his approach was undeniable. Summoning power in a brute display of telekinetic might, the apprentice wrenched an arm forward to tear up barricades and hurl warriors bodily through the air, slamming hard against the stone. A second wave of frantic shouting stained the temple's heart as Ashlans broke, snapped, and died. Leaders rose up and commanded retreat, soldiers fell in and raised rifles to their chins. The Jedi flourished and braced themselves against the onslaught, some with more ease than others, but ultimately fell back nevertheless. Maintaining a protective wall and shielding the Ashlan's evacuation efforts, they whipped their blades into renewed guards and prepared themselves for combat.

"Prove your strength or die," Kyraj challenged.​

"You hold no power here, Sith!," replied the Zabrak Master.​

"Your time has already come and passed on this world. Korriban has found the light!"​

"Cowards," cried a teenaged Jedi a couple paces behind. Her green blade quivered, casting an uneasy glow against the fur lining of her shoulders and the bone piercings in her ear's cartilage.​

"Your arrogance will be your undoing!" Bellowed a third as he advanced upon Kyraj.​

A middle aged Jedi with dark features and grey shocks at his temples, he leapt into the air with a physically dominant form. Blatant in his approach, the brutish combatant unleashed an elementary, albeit well honed, string of wide-sweeping attacks, his blue thrumming blade fueled with sheer strength.

In an instant, the others were upon him too, discarding their honor to dispatch the young Sith whilst he stood there, alone. Moving together, the Zabrak and his padawan formed a hard pincer on Kyraj's opposite side, weaving in and out from one another's advances, trading strikes and defensive flourishes against the Sith's orchid blades.

From above and behind, Caedes surveyed the battlefield with a grin on his lips. If Kyraj was a burning star in the Force, then the neophyte, Wake Nayne, was more akin to a black hole. His mind was a wellspring of chaos, his enemies falling before him in tears and enraptured in bliss. He watched the man closely, stretching out his senses and feeling the touch of his bleeding wound in the Force; the cold abyss and the ever so slight tearing in the fabric of the Force which occurred as spirits and mortals alike were bled dry and drank in.

"Get off her, freak!" Said a bruiser with a shock pike, moments before swinging in at Wake.​

​

Recovering, gunners took aim and opened fire upon the aggressors.

Stone doors at the chamber's far side groaned open as an ancient looking Jedi pulled at them in the Force. Like water through a broken dam, the refugees poured into the temple's tunnels and descended to supposed safety at a sprint. Flare torches sizzled to life in the dark hallways beyond as mothers and fathers guided children and the elderly out, painting the walls with the shadows of their fleeing forms.

"Retreat!!"

"Into the tunnels!!" "Retreat!! Retreat!!"​

​

"Get out of here! Let's go!"​

​

"Into the tunnels!!" "We're trapped!!"​

​

"INTO THE TUNNELS!!" "The tunnels!!" "Where to!?"​

​

"Retreat!!" "Hurry!"​

​

"We can't get out!?" "They've BLOCKED the temple's entrance!!"​

"We're trapped!!"​

​

"Into the tunnels!!" "DEEPER!!"​

​

​

"DEEEEEPERRR!!"​

​

​

 

[Darth Nwul]

Wake felt his mind starting to escape him again, he knew he was slipping and a small part of him didn't care. It was so easy just to give in, to embrace the madness of that sinister poison within the dark side. The hate and rage that tainted it like a barely perceptible cloud. Wake could feel the hate burning in his veins, the madness in his movements, he jerked and twitched as his head whipped around to face the bruiser who came in hard-and smiled.

Get off her, freak!"

Wake's eyebrows shot up in his moment of insanity, "Warpike! I've always wanted to know how to use one! Thank you for the meal!" He rasped, his arms moving like boneless whips as he drew out the lightsaber he had taken from Sher in a sudden spin, jumping into the Ataru style of high speed movements. He leaped off the ground about a foot to maintain his momentum as the blade ignited, forming an arc of blue light around him. It struck the warpike and cleaved through it, slicing across the man's abdomen. His eyes flickered with wordless pain until Wake grabbed him by the skull as he dropped to his knees.

Another feast. He pushed the body away and darted towards the screaming and fleeing civilians, he could feel the complications building up in the back of his skull. Emotions beyond hate and rage were causing a cascade of different physiological responses to his body as he used them for fuel for the dark side. His brain's neurons fired and the wildness returned unbidden. He landed on another victim like an animal, another scientist. This one studied the ancient structures and the rituals of the sith. He devoured scholars, politicians, historians, archivists, decades, perhaps even centuries of education eaten like a steak thrown to a hungry dog.

Brain dead bodies littered the ground around Wake as he stood, panting, at the center of the chaos. There was more prey to be had, but he'd already consumed almost a hundred minds it felt like. He gasped and grabbed his head, he needed to calm down. He needed to breathe. A warrior came running at him and without a conscious thought he reached out with the force and drove wonderous memories and feelings of warmth and love into him, then as soon as the man staggered, tears filling his eyes, Wake unconsciously ripped them all out, hollowing out his emotional interior with one ruthless pull.

The man sobbed and without being able to stop himself, dropped to his knees and drove his own weapon into his gut.

Wake coughed, a bit of blood dripping onto his lip from his nose, he turned his eyes on the corpse in wonder, what had he done? "That's new..." He exhaled, trembling, his mind returning to him. He needed to train, he had to train, there was more work to be done. Controlling the emotions, using them and dominating them rather than allowing them to control him. That was the challenge. He glanced up at the others who were fighting the defenders, warriors took more time to kill than civilians after all, and staggered away. He needed to clear his head and gain his first prize.

He staggered towards the leftmost hallway leading out of the space where the refugees had originally gathered before scattering. A few even dared to run past him, he threw knives into their backs as he dragged himself, his muscles screaming from the manic overexertion. He grit his teeth and seethed in the force, letting his emotions out again despite the possible dangers. He let the dark side suffuse his muscles and bones, washing over him in a icy mist that soothed him and gave him refreshed strength. He didn't feel the madness that time. Why?

It didn't matter... he needed to get to the rooms the sith spirit had memories of. There were a few points of interest, the first was along the way to the others.

As he stepped into the dark and heavily muraled spacious hallway, he turned to a small cubby set into the wall and with the force dragged a stone out of the way. Without bothering to crawl inside, he reached out with the force and pulled the two souls inside toward him. There was a squeak and a cry of alarm as two teenage Rattakai came struggling out of the hidden space. Wake's lip twitched; "Hello Yjome, Darya, nice to meet you," He said evenly.

"Wh-" The taller girl gasped only to be silenced by her sister who glared wordlessly at Wake.

"Your father is dead, girls. The sith are here, I am one of them. I've agreed to protect you from the purge," Wake said simply, "His name was Sher, your mother-rest her soul-was Aira. Is that evidence enough?"

Darya, the scornful one, grew teary eyed; "You'll protect us?"

"Only if you stay close. If you flee from me, I cannot promise that my kin won't end your lives. You live as a servant or die a torturous and painful death in these halls. Choose, because I'm in a hurry," Wake said and turned away, heading down the darkened hallway while drawing a holorecorder out of his coat. Only a moment later did he hear the two sets of obedient footprints behind him. He smiled. Good.

​

​

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Kyraj | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Nwul | First Sister | Aliris Tremiru | Crix Maden

​

The Opening of the Gate

As the powers of the force wielders crescendoed, the ancient ruins unleashed the hungry dead for the final test of might.

Zal spun and tore through the spectral guardians in a vicious dance. She left her blade sheathed - these wraiths would not provide the satisfaction of tearing flesh that their later prey would. Her mind reached out, suppressing the will and vigor of the spirits around her, allowing her close enough to tear through them with force-sharpened talons and the alchemically enhanced metals of her boot blades. Korriban belonged to her, as she belonged to it, and the minds of its ghosts were not so difficult to invade and bend. She did not have the brute strength or speed of most Sith warriors, at least not of her own body, but she nevertheless enjoyed the savage intimacy of melee combat, and she could bring these wisps of sand and shadow down to the level of easy prey - though not so easy she wouldn't have fun.

A frenzied snarl of exhilaration twisted her face as she felt the sensations of her opponents through the mental connection, thrilling in the feel of their defeat. Then, suddenly, she felt a tearing, a cold devouring that made her momentarily falter, her head whipping around to seek the source. One of the wraiths scored a hit in her moment of lost focus, searing pain blossoming against her cheek and scalp. She clamped down her will, the wraiths immediately around her turning their violence on each other as she sought out the source of the strange power. There.

The dark-haired one across the battlefield was, like her, entering the fray with minimal weaponry. She watched with fascination as he ripped the souls from the specters with his bare hands, their very essence travelling up his arms like morning fog. It was a different kind of destruction than the others were wreaking, something more sinister, both a deeper level of obliteration and yet somehow... not. More than death, and yet... the spirits did not feel truly gone.

She marked it - and him - as interesting, but there was work to be done. She narrowed her focus to her immediate vicinity - she did not know what would happen if he devoured a mind she was truly riding - and was preparing to return to the fray as she felt a sudden shift in intent from her Sith master. She felt Caedes' will join hers, flooding through the spirits in true subjugation, bidding them halt and kneel before him. She dropped her battle stance to stand tall, let his power flow through her, became a beacon of it. The shadows beside her bent and lowered themselves to their dominion, and the way to the true battle finally stood clear before them.

 

[Kyraj]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Zal Aditi | Darth Caedes | Darth Nwul | Aliris Tremiru | First Sister
• [ _Open ]

As the weathered jedi leapt into action against Kyraj the sith blocked each of his wide swings. The other two flanked him and he had to split his focus between the three. He wove his blades in a glowing whirlwind as blows rained down on him from all sides. They fought with desperation. He knew that struggle. The jedi would slip. Their practiced calm would give way to the roiling emotions their predicament instilled in them. They could choose to use those emotions for strength. The more aggressive one seemed on the verge of it himself. But no. They would struggle against it. Futilely. Their calm would break and if they didn't give in to passion in extremis then they would fall.

"This place is built of sith power." He parried a thrust from the Zabrak master and countered with a short cut of his own that was blocked in turn. "Korriban has not found the light." He scoffed parrying the green bladed padawan lazily before intercepting another vertical slash from the graying man. "You simply painted over it's truth, like the petty vandals you are." He drew the dark power of the place into himself and stomped hard on the ground sending a burst of lightning from the impact at the legs of all three of his opponents causing them to retreat a pace.

Kyraj leveled one blade at the padawan. "No. No cowards among us here today. Not among the sith anyway. We know the danger and power of this place and face it gladly rather than try to turn it into something it is not." The Zabrak lunged and thrust his blue blade at the apprentice who knocked it aside with a power that defied his stature. "Stop talking and fight sith!" The jedi growled. Kyraj however returned his focus to the girl. "You know fear." He spun and parried a thrust from the other knight. "You know rage." He could see the struggle in her eyes. "Use it or it will use you." He began his own serries of powerful short cuts and thrusts driving back the two jedi who flanked him. He pushed that advantage and drove the Zabrak back and away from the others.

"NO!" The young jedi cried as she dove forward to aid her master. YES. Thought Kyraj. This was the opportunity his taunting had been about. He lifted a finger from his left saber and made a short gesture with it moving a small stone into the padawan's path while twisting away from another thrust by her master. The girl slipped on the sandy stone in her headlong rush and Kyraj seized on the moment unleashing another telekinetic burst to stagger the other and buy him the time he needed to take the girl's head as she struggled to rise from her fall.

As it rolled across the dusty temple floor he paced around her, bringing the other two jedi in front of him and reveling in their shocked and horrified expressions. He raised one saber to the Zabrak as he gaped at the rolling head of his padawan. "You know fear." He raised the other blade to the human. "You know rage. Use them!" With a sharp flick of his wrist he sent the severed head flying directly at the master and lunged to follow it lashing out with a series of powerful overhead attacks as the jedi shielded himself from the gruesome distraction.

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Kyraj | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Nwul | First Sister | Aliris Tremiru | Crix Maden

The Path of Destruction

They advanced into the darkness. Zal let herself fall to the rear, her focus splitting as she reached her mind out to her pack, shared their sense of the enemy. This pathway was new to her, but the tunnels of Korriban were not. The Tuk'ata stirred in the shadows on the other side of their quarry as she approached, made restless by the surges of dark force energy Caedes and the attack force had released above. Then, deeper in the darkness, beneath the heart of the temple, another more ancient mind also stirred.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt it, as it scented the living force, the surge of dark power calling it from its long slumber. So rarely had she seen these great beasts awaken, and never had she seen one rise. But now, summoned by the victory of the Sith that was near at hand, she could feel it shaking off its lightsickness. As Korriban itself was doing. She caressed its mind with hers, bidding it welcome. There would be a fitting feast to celebrate its sacred return.

Before long, the great temple doors were before them. Lost in her connection to her beasts, she had missed most of the details of carvings and sculpture of this hallowed place. No matter. She would return once it had been truly consecrated, examine it at leisure as she had so many of these hidden paths before.

"Press them down into the temple's depths. Take whatever you find, whatever you want, whatever you have the power to keep. I only ask one thing of you..." Caedes raised a long finger, and Zal felt a subtle emphasis directed her way, to make sure she obeyed the next words.
"Leave their faces intact..."
​

She frowned. That would require more finesse than she had planned on. Still, Caedes had a deep grasp of the Dark Side, and she understood the purpose of his order. Indeed, she could not help but admire the artistry of the depth of suffering he had planned for the Ashlans. In fact... yes. It was, on further reflection, quite inspiring. She would adjust her tactics.

Her lip curled in disgust as her eyes swept across the huddled mass of pathetic souls, those who would consider themselves "innocents". Academics and graverobbers cowering helplessly behind families, too stupid to put their knowledge and learning to any use. Children clinging to their parents, mindlessly trusting their protection and guidance, fattened on the self-righteous hypocrisy of Ashlan ideology. Brainwashed and unquestioning, staring up at their mothers with wide eyes, no power or thought of their own. Like trained dogs. Like pets.

As the others swept forward in a mad rush of violence, she stepped quietly to the side, retreating to the shadows of one of the open doors. She had retrieved her cloak and rifle before the descent, and as the music of chaos erupted in the chamber before her, she took a quiet moment to pull the garment up around her shoulders and raise the hood over her head.

​

Reaching to the small of her back, she drew her blade. She kneeled in the shadows, holding it ready on her lap before her. It was an ancient thing, once a great war sword, but its blade had been sheared in half centuries upon centuries ago. She had made it her own, honing the edge to make something more like a gladius or dirk, less heavy and more personal. She had learned much from the remnants of dark magic the blade held, had used that knowledge to enhance them. Reaching through the bedlam with her mind, she closed her eyes.

The consciousness of a child was easy enough to pick out. There was a specific tone to the terror of one naieve, young enough to have never encountered something like this before - an edge of stupid hope and trust that somehow, their parents would protect them, would save them as they had promised to. The comparison to a pet was a good one. She selected a mind, a young girl thrown aside by Kyraj's burst of power, stumbling to her feet and running to see if her mother bad been injured by the blast.

Zal kept her touch on the feeble young mind light at first, merely riding it. She made a small push, and the girl stooped briefly on her way to scoop up a fallen knife in the rubble, thinking it was her own idea to arm herself for safety. Why did she have to, though? Zal put the question in her head, trying to help the pathetic creature think, possibly for the first time in its existence. Why did she have to protect herself, when her mother had promised that everything would be all right? How could she have been brought here, to this hellish death trap, to this evil planet?

The girl's steps slowed as the pain caught in her throat, her family's lies and betrayal beginning to be understood. Zal watched through her eyes as she continued towards her mother, as the woman sat up, trying to stand and shake off the stupor of the impact. What was so important here on Korriban? What had this woman deemed more important than the life of her daughter, than the safety of her family, than her responsibility as a parent? Zal could taste the bitterness rising in the little girl's throat as she finally reached the woman's side. By then, the relief in her mother's eyes as she saw the child evoked nothing more than a spike of repulsion at the hypocrisy. Relief? That she wasn't hurt? When this woman, and her decision to follow these fanatics, was the whole reason that the child was about to die?

Like a master guiding an apprentice through the most basic forms of combat, Zal gently pressed the girl forward and into the woman's embrace. For a moment the warmth and comfort made the thing question the truth she had been shown, but Zal increased her pressure, and the girl's knowledge hardened. With one final surge of guidance, the child's hand slipped forward, and her weapon struck true, biting into the mother's side in just the right spot. The woman pulled away in confusion and pain, her eyes searching her daughter's face, but she found no remorse, no hint of an accident. The girl's eyes held only righteous pain and accusation as her small hand adjusted her grip on the knife, ripping the now blood-slick blade from her mother's side and plunging it deep into her heart to complete the punishment for her failure as a parent.

----------

----------

In the shadows, Zal smiled in satisfaction. She released her hold on the child's mind, but lingered a moment to see if the lesson would stick. Alas, as her guidance retreated, confusion and horror flooded in to take its place. Oh well. Some were simply too stupid to understand - true insight was rare. Their agony would feed the darkness just as sweetly.

She moved on. Perhaps the next one would do better.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Multiply and Replenish
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: 3 34125 Open!

​

"Make no mistake Acolyte, the Ashlan Jedi and the Alliance's Jedi are not all that different. The difference is that the Alliance's preaches peace whilst doing nothing but waging war, and the Ashlans simply tossed aside that lie to instead wage all out war given that they had no Alliance to hold them back. They're all the same in the end."

It wasn't like the Galactic Alliance had spared any more of the Sith Empire than the Ashlans had after all. "As for the weapons, I'm sure they have far bigger problems and enemies to turn them against than ourselves. Carnifex himself and his precious Malsheem are here in old Sith Space, they will deploy their main efforts against him."

Soon enough the group, both Sith and the squad, had arrived before a door at one of the far ends of the main room that they had entered onto. "Besides, the Kainites did break their armies before we even arrived. There won't be much resistance left on Korriban for us to run up against." Alisteri tapped on door's console and clicked his tongue at the lack of a reaction.

"Yes it is as I suspected, not even the backup power is on. We'll have to get the reserve banks and generators up and running. Hopefully they weren't too damaged or sabotaged during the fighting." That would make accessing the data he desired far more difficult than he had intended. He wasted no time in simply carving into the door and kicking it from the doorway, revealing a dark stairwell and destroyed elevator as the door flew into the empty shaft and tumbled down with a series of crashes.

Before Alisteri could step past the doorway and begin the descent into the lower levels, he paused and idly craned his head to the side as if something had caught his ear. "I sense someone below...a Jedi yet lives in the depths. We must find them and-" Suddenly and explosion rocked the front of the building, tearing a new hole in the entrance and sending half a squad of Legionnaires that were near it flying.

:"Contact Contact! They're emerging from below! I repeat they're coming from-": Blaster fire both from the Legionnaires and their attackers soon lit up the capitol building's courtyard, the masked man looking back at his soldiers with a frustrated growl. "It's a fething trap!" His gaze snapped to the squad of technicians and he gestured to the stairwell. "Get down there and get power back online now, if this place has any defenses left then I want them online and under our control!"

Then he looked to the Acolyte. "I want you to find that Jedi and ensure they don't erase the archive once the power comes back on. I must command the battle here." Without much further ado he began to stride right back towards the entrance as the Legionnaires took up defensive positions within the building. He did pause for a moment though to glance back at Maerae. "I trust that you will not let this chance slip by. If you can prove that you can act in my stead, then you will have proven yourself worthy as my apprentice. Now go!"

 

[Darth Nwul]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Kyraj | Darth Caedes | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | First Sister | Aliris Tremiru | Crix Maden

The two young women kept close as he traipsed his way through the dark corridor. Both of them staring at the back of his head with mixed feelings swirling around them. There was a deep hatred there, he'd killed their father. But he'd known their mothers name somehow, and had agreed to protect them rather than turn them over to the ravenous sith he was allied with. Not only that, but he showed no interest in them other than having them tag along. Instead, the strange sith hummed a jaunty tune and chuckled at the empty air now and then as if he were seeing things that they could not readily percieve. Perhaps he was insane? Maybe they should leave now while they still had a chance. The deep tremor of misgiving turning into panic rocked its way through the force.

He glanced back at them, "I'm probably a little crazy," He admitted, as if he were reading his thoughts. "Running may not be a bad decision. Are you strong enough to fight off the other sith or the frenzied and terrified Ashlans running down the corridor behind us right now?" Wake asked, genuinely curious. "Seems to me like your dear father intentionally squashed your training to keep you from becoming warriors. Did it ever feel like he was holding out on you?"

The more timid girl, Darya, whipped her head in the direction of the oncoming tunnel before looking back at her sister; "Yjome! If we're seen with him, they'll kill us too!"

"Probably kill you anyway, trample you," Wake said with a shrug, picking at his ear.

Yjome scowled at him, clenching her fists, "How did you know?"

"Know what?" Wake asked, glancing back at her, "Go on, say it."

He stopped in front of a darkened archway and rounded on the two of them, shoving his hands into his pockets. They paid no mind to the space beyond it, instead focused on him. Yjome's lips parted, closed, and parted again. She trembled with frustration; "Father wanted us to be flowers on a desert world! Wasted, weak!" Yjome insisted, "We are strong! I know it! How did you know he was holding out on us?"

Wake's lip twiched; "I ate his mind. I know everything about you, your family, him, his feelings, disgusting. I wouldn't remember him fondly if I were you, not that I can prove it," Wake said bluntly, "You asked, I answered, what are you going to do, Yjome?" He asked.

Silence fell over them, deep enough that the distant sounds of battle began to rise in volume, or were they perhaps the coming waves of fleeing Ashlans. Darya squeezed her hands together, tears forming in her eyes. She looked down at the ground and chewed on her lip. Yjome looked away, her eyes shut and her jaw tight. Their feelings swirled in the air until finally Yjome looked back to Wake; "So what are you going to do with us?"

"I already answered that question, protect you during this purge. After that? Teach you, train you, take you in. You're strong in the force, I can feel that much, and killing you would be a tragic waste. You deserve a much better life than the life of a monk," He said in disgust, "I'm not going to try to convince you to stick around again, I have better things to do and in a few moments those Ashlans are going to come pouring into this part of the halls. Final chance."

Yjome hesitated, it was Darya who took a step forward and stood at Wake's side. "You know what father wanted from us," She said, "This will be better," Wake smiled at the girl and pat her on the shoulder before turning away, he would wait no longer. He stepped through the darkened archway and into the room beyond, vanishing into the shadows with Darya. Yjome only waited another half second before darting in to join them. Just in time to avoid the screaming horde of Ashlans that ran past, harried by the sith that danced about them in a tapestry of slaughter.

​

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Kyraj | Zal Aditi | Elmindra Xitaar
• [ _Open ]

NNNNNOOOOOOO!!
Vaask—! No! Don't let hi—! The Zabrak Master stuttered, struck by something hard and wet.​

Veteran Jarohm Vaask, Ashlan Jedi Warrior, enraged and in despair, charged at Kyraj, alone. As he leapt over the Padawan's remains, he summoned her blade to one hand and threw it like a boomerang, bellowing. Snapping open into a sizzling green disc and spinning through the air towards the Sith, its guided blade whipped round to Kyraj's flank, striking low. Then, like a boulder falling from a mountain, the Jedi descended, all rage and strength and vengeance. Blades sparked and spat molten color as they beat against one another.

Like a breaking wave, Rajakzânkut leapt onto and toppled the Ashlans lines of defense, sporadic blaster-fire and the shrieks marking an eruption of new deaths. They snapped necks or drove daggers into stomachs. Some dug their claws through abdomens, snarling and drooling as they reached their talons inside. Yet their faces were preserved into death, gaping and stretched with horror.

Amidst the chaos, leadership figures stood resolute, their voices resonant as they directed the frightened civilians deeper into the temple's depths. Whispers of trepidation filled the air alongside the panicked screaming, for tales were told of these unexplored regions, untouched since the very inception of this accursed planet's dominion. Yet, in this moment, any place was deemed safer than their current perilous refuge.

Behind them, the echoes of terrified footsteps reverberated through the ancient corridors. The Ashlan Jedi, remnants of a once-proud culture, pressed onward, their spirits flickering like fading stars in the oppressive darkness of Korriban's subterranean labyrinth.

As they fled, vocal warriors took charge, their lightsabers ignited and blasters held high in defiance. Battle-hardened veterans formed protective shields around the vulnerable, their hearts burning with the false fire of hope. Leading the charge were the military commanders and historians, their minds racing to find the path to salvation.

Across precarious bridges suspended over bottomless chasms and through sacrificial chambers, the Ashlans ran. Their faith in the Force now their only guiding light amidst the encroaching darkness, they ran. Clutching children to their chests, stumbling to be trampled under hysteric feet, they ran. Desperation fueled their every step, and a fierce determination burned within them, knowing that they carried the last hopes of their fallen brethren and the endangered legacy of their Ashlan Jedi Order.

 

[Kyraj]

• Korriban
• Valley of Golg
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Darth Caedes | Zal Aditi | Elmindra Xitaar | Aliris Tremiru | First Sister
• [ _Open ]

Heavy overhand strikes rained down on the Zabrak master. His guard held for a moment before his saber was knocked away. Kyraj seized the opportunity and thrust both his blades at the jedi who leapt backward to avoid the strike. Before the sith apprentice could pursue he felt the threat of the other knight approaching from his flank. He leapt spinning into the air over the padawan's thrown saber using his momentum to knock it hard into the ground with both sabers. Landing above it he cleaved it in half with a quick cut removing it from play. The other blade rising to intercept the aggression of the older jedi.

Blow after blow rained down on Kyraj, intercepted time and again by crackling blades. One knocked away, the second rising to meet another blow, the first rising again to intercept as the strikes continued. Finally he caught the knight's blade on both of his own stopping the assault.
"See! Now you're getting it!" He crowed with a savage grin disengaging one saber to parry a thrust from the other side as the master rushed to take advantage of the perceived opening. He twisted knocking both jedi blades away and lashed out with a kick as he did sweeping his raging opponent's legs from under him.

Kyraj roared and lunged toward the master, but turned it into a feint as he spun again and threw his own ornate lightsaber and his downed opponent. The radiant pink blade plunged straight through the knight's wrist causing him to lose his grip on his own saber. The sith pulled his weapon back to him with a mental command and turned to intercept a series of thrusts from the zabrak. The master had begun to favor form two. A style Kyraj was intimately familiar with as it was the form preferred by his own master. The jedi was quite proficient but Kyraj twisted and parried again and again circling away from the other jedi.

During his seeming retreat he reached out with his mind and seized one of the barricades hurling it atop the rising jedi knocking him prone once again.
"You, master jedi, seem made of sterner stuff than your idiotic companions." He disengaged creating space between the two of them. Reaching out two fingers from each hilt he sent a torrent of violet lightning cascading towards both his opponents. The master intercepted the crackling bolts with his lightsaber but his companion, pinned as he was, writhed in pain his clothes smoking as the lightning scorched skin beneath. "It won't save you though. One after another you will fall." He sent another surge of lightning at his opponents, keeping the pressure on them. Gritting his teeth the zabrak master advanced against the onslaught, but before he could reach Kyraj the sith apprentice ceased the lightning flowing into the jedi writhing on the ground threw an orchid blade again at him spearing through the fallen barricade and into the knight's chest. His golden orange eyes locked on his remaining opponent as they advanced relentlessly against the coursing lightning. "And then there was one." He ceased the lightning and rushed forward to meet his rival knocking his blade away to the right with a powerful swipe and spun past on the left calling his thrown saber back to him and adopting a stance from form two himself as he came to a stop on the opposite side.

By now Rajakzânkut swarmed around them ripping apart civilians and warriors alike. Again he breathed in the powerful energy of the dark side that suffused this place. Its essence seasoned with the roiling emotions on both sides of the conflict. His expression still a savage grin he exulted in his impending triumph as the last of the three jedi crept cautiously forward, preparing again to engage. There would be more to do after this, but for the moment his focus remained with this last and almost worthy opponent.

 

[Darth Nwul]

Darya and Yjome peered out into the melee just beyond the shadows that seemed to conceal the nigh-invisible room that their new master had lured them into. The massive reptilian warriors of the sith carved through the civilians while they watched. The young women had never seen such monstrosities before. Yjome swallowed as one carved through a warrior, ripping the man's sword arm off and stabbing him with it. Darya winced and looked away, her expression becoming pale. Yjome grabbed her arm and squeezed, and Darya turned her eyes back to the slaughter as the fleeing Ashlan passed. They shared a look. They'd made their choice, they had to face the consequences.

Wake, for his part, had already wandered into the room and begun appreciating the murals on the wall. A dozen small podiums were spaced througout the room with oddly shaped crystalline objects set atop them. Wake stopped by one and eyed it, a holocron? No, something close though, like a half-baked attempt at a holocron. Probably a storage for more esoteric information rather than the deep thoughts trapped by a guardian. He picked up one and rolled it between his fingers, using the force to plumb its depths. Ah! Metallurgy. He turned to looked up at the murals again and squinted, were those schematics?

"M-master?" Yjome stuttered, "What are those things?'

Wake glanced over his shoulder, "Hmm? Ah, what were those things called, Rajata, no, rajakaka, no rajakz... hmmm, oh right! Rajakzânkut," Wake struggled for a moment before turning with a pleased expression on them. "I believe Lord Caedes made them, though I don't know much. They're not exactly talkative," He rambled, playing with one of the artifacts and almost dropping it before scrambling to pick it up.

The two of them stared at him with blank looks of disappointment. This was the man they'd be following around for the forseeable future? Their moment of annoyance was interrupted as a man was thrown into the room, one of the great reptiles hurling him at the illusory wall. He slid to a stop, letting out a cry of pain before looking up and around in confusion.

"Where? Who- Darya! Yjome! What are you two doing here? I though-" He froze, his eyes falling on Wake, his expression darkening. Rage boiled beneath the veneer of calm and serenity. "You, I saw you, the man eater, what have you done to these helpless girls?"

Wake blinked at him, "Helpless? These two? Have you actually met them? Wake asked in confusion, he snorted and rested his back against one of the murals behind him. He crossed his arms.

"I knew their father, we were friends," The Ashlan rumbled.

"Oh... Rashal, that was your name, right?" Wake mumbled, "Friend sounds like an attachment, I didn't know you all dealt in attachments, interesting!"

Rashal paled, "How did you-"

"I know your friend better than you ever did," Wake said darkly, "All of his sick thoughts, all of his secrets, all of his feelings. His intentions for his own daughters, why he kept them weak. Just like I can taste the hatred and rage hiding behind your rather pathetic mask of calm."

"MONSTER!" The man howled, glancing around as if he was looking for something before darting to his feet and charging at Wake, hands bared to gouge out the Sith's eyes. The last thing he saw was Wake's gentle smile as a sharp pain exploded in his chest. He looked down and saw his personal blade jutting out of his chest. He coughted up blood and looked back into the teary eyes of Yjome. "Yjome...wh-"

He collapsed, sluffing off the blade and falling face first onto the ground. Wake straightened up and looked down at the body, he looked away from it without comment and back at the two girls. Darya was already moving the corpse out of the way with what telekinesis she could muster, disgust plain on her face. He could sense their fall already, the slow breaking of their spirits before they were reforged. "I can't wait to introduce you two to Darth Caedes..."

Darth Caedes Zal Aditi Aliris Tremiru First Sister Elmindra Xitaar Kyraj

 

[Darth Caedes]

<< Jedi Master, Roddeek Paal, Zabrak Ashlan last seen at the Defense of Kor Naskor, Korriban. >>
​

• Korriban
• Ashlan Temple — Kor Naskor
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Elmindra Xitaar | Kyraj | Zal Aditi |
• [ _Open ]

"You would have made for a powerful Jedi, boy," the Zabrak Master admitted, saluting with his azure blade.​

"But you lack mastery." He sounded tired and disappointed.​

"I suppose I have time for one last lesson..."​

With a sudden, back-handed thrust of his palm, the Ashlan Jedi reached through the Force to make it his weapon. His Padawan's lightsaber lay nearby, its hilt bisected and smoking, having spilt the shattered remains of emerald kyber onto the dark stone floors underneath. Still glowing, clinging to the light, those shards raised between the Zabrak and Kyraj, glimmering and sparkling, then launched themselves like a shotgun blast in the direction of the Sith. The Master was all smooth motion and practiced calm, the hum of his lightsaber painting the temple walls purple and blue as he battled.

Next, the Padawan's hilt rose, twisting and unscrewing, hinges opening and layers unfolding into a new field of fragmented debris. He fired them next, sharp metal edges transformed into a haze of cutting pain. One attack flowed into the next, the Master's feet light against the stone, his prowess in Niman tempered with the necessity of the moment. Behind him, the last of the Ashlan refugees drained into the tunnels, the majority of their civilian body depleted and laying dead in bulky piles about the temple floors.

Jarohm's blade whipped up into the air, snapping alight and landing in the outstretched hand of the Zabrak Master. He brandished both towards Kyraj, grimacing with determination, then charged to attack, his face slick with sweat.

 

[Zal Aditi]

• Korriban
• Ashlan Temple — Kor Naskor
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Elmindra Xitaar | Kyraj | Darth Caedes |

Zal stood as their quarry began to flee deeper into the heart of Korriban's darkness. It would not do to return her blade to its sheath unwetted.

Her cloak flared around her as she moved in a sudden, unnatural burst of speed, appearing at the side of a young Nautolan boy who had, moments before and under her tutelage, shot down both his father and older sister. He stood there as the crowd flowed past, frozen in disbelief, not even truly understanding what he had done. She knelt beside him, eased the blaster from his small fingers and tucked it into her belt. The contact seemed to break his stupor, and tears started welling, spilling over blotchy green cheeks in huge, round drops. "P-papa?" he called helplessly. "Papa, wake up..."

"Your papa isn't going to wake up, child. He's dead, just like you wanted."

He collapsed to the ground, falling against her, waves of despair rolling out into the force. She took his shoulders to hold him upright, examining his face. "No... That's not.... Wh-what at am I gonna do?"

"Whatever you want. You're free." She took his chin, analyzing his expression with cold curiosity as she spoke. She saw only helplessness, a lost child. Her voice was naturally soft and melodic, but the words were hard, and held no pity. "Free to survive, if you can. Free to think for yourself. Your life is yours now, if you can keep it." She raised her blade gently, placed the angled tip against his cheek, tightened her grip on his face.

He went rigid, a cold shard of fear entering his big wet eyes. With deft movements she carved a mark into his cheek - a wound to leave a scar, for remembrance. The blood welled for a moment, then twisted in the air, drawn into the honed metal. She sheathed the blade, tipping the boy's head to the side to examine her work before nodding in satisfaction and releasing him. He fell backwards, scrambling across the ground away from her.

She rose to her feet, looked down at the trembling thing. She could feel her packs calling to her as their prey ran into the depths, could taste their bloodlust in her throat. They moved alongside the mob unseen, shadows racing silently along the high ridges and cavern walls, waiting only for her signal to pounce. It was time to leave this place. The next phase would soon be upon them. She turned her eyes to the path ahead as she offered the child one final piece of advice. "The Ashlan defilers flee, but their lives are already forfeit. You should decide now if you wish to join them, or if you wish to make use of the chance you have been given."

Then, with another burst of speed, she was gone, swallowed like the crusaders by the shadows of the tomb.

 

[Kyraj]

• Korriban
• Ashlan Temple — Kor Naskor
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Caedes | Zal Aditi |
• [ _Open ]

"I suppose I have time for one last lesson..."
​

No, Kyraj thought as the shards of emerald kyber rose into the air, you have nothing left to teach. As the hail of crystals blasted towards him the sith apprentice let the force flow into both his muscles and the space around him and dove sideways with supernatural speed evading the attack. He watched patiently as the jedi dismantled his padawan's lightsaber to create his impromptu ammunition. The first piece of metal sent slicing his way was batted aside with an orchid blade. The next he swayed to evade. The third and fourth together he buried in the ground with a crushing telekinetic wave. The fifth and sixth he leapt over and spun through the air dodging both. The master saw him abandon his footing and thinking to take advantage sent the rest of the shards but they froze in the air two feet in front of their target as Kyraj caught them with a thought before landing again.
"I would have made and incredibly powerful jedi. But the sith are making me more than I ever could have been as one of you. Already I am greater than a master such as yourself." With a thought he sent all of the remaining shards careening back in the direction of the jedi who evaded with that same supernatural speed Kyraj had displayed but a moment ago.

The lightsaber of his fallen compatriot slapped into the zabrak's outstretched hand and he charged the young sith. They traded blow after blow. The chaos of the battle around them falling away as their focus honed in on each other. "You make claims of greatness before the battle is over. No. I only see a frightened boy lashing out against a world of injustice." Kyraj's grin turned into a snarl as the words hit home, and his blows came heavier and faster. "You're all anger at those who hurt you, but they're not here for you to punish so you strike at whomever comes across your path." Hacking cuts rained down from the high guard as the younger man gave himself over to the passion that was quickly suffusing him. Letting his rage at the jedi's all too accurate words move him through the powerful motions of Juyo. "Your fear has twisted you. You've become a cruel monster just like the one you..." But the jedi's words were cut short as Kyraj knocked both of his blades aside with a powerful stroke and cut back across his opponent's gut.

Eyes wide the master fell to his knees dropping both lightsabers. Panting heavily with a scowl on his face Kyraj crouched in front of him. Looking him directly in the eyes he all but spat. "You know NOTHING about me. You talk of monsters while jedi roam the galaxy killing just as freely as sith. Where were YOU when I needed a way out?" He shook his head. "No. There were no jedi to save people like me. I found my freedom the only way I could." Weakly the zabrak reached out and called his lightsaber to his hand but before skin met hilt his hand was cut clean off. Kyraj sneered at the feeble attempt. Then he composed himself and smiled. "I don't need to justify myself to a hypocrite like you." And with that he plunged both of his glowing blades into the jedi's chest before letting the corpse slump to the ground.

He stood and doused his blades clipping them to his belt before calling the lightsabers of the fallen jedi to his hands and clipping them beside his own. He took in the room around him. What remained of the ashlan here were dead or dying. It seemed that during his fun he'd missed the rout. Oh well. It had been fun.

​

 

[34125]

So, the Ashlan Crusaders were simply Jedi that had discarded their hypocrisy. That was almost respectable, in a way. Of course, they were still Jedi, and therefore not deserving of her admiration, but they didn't hide their intentions behind false veils of pacifism. They fought a far more honest fight, and at the very least, Maerae could appreciate that. There were few things she hated more than facades.

They would still have to die, of course. The Jedi, no matter what name they went by, stood between the Sith and their goal of true dominion of the galaxy.

It was good to know that she didn't need to worry about the Crusaders using their own weapons against them. As Strosius explained, with Darth Carnifex and his invasion force around, it was far more likely that any advanced weaponry would be used against the Kainites. Fine by her, as that was one less obstacle for Maerae to worry about.

"Deploying their weapons elsewhere is advantageous for us, at least. That's one less obstacle—"

Naturally, that was when the front of the building exploded.

Debris scattered across the room, and Maerae had to duck behind a terminal to avoid being skewered by stone and steel. She clambered to her feet, ears still ringing from the explosion, and tried to assess the situation through the hazy smoke. Legionnaires lay dead about the room, and the familiar flashes of blaster fire in the courtyard could be seen through the new hole in the building.

To top all of that off, Darth Strosius had mentioned a living Jedi in the depths below, only moments before the explosion.

Authority carrying in his voice as it always did, Strosius ordered a squad down into the depths, to reactivate whatever defenses this building might have had. Confusion filled her for a moment, because there was still a Jedi down there, and no single squad of soldiers would be enough to overcome such an obstacle. Clarity came a moment later, as he ordered her down there as well, to reunite the Jedi with the Force.

"As you command," she offered no argument.

She didn't understand why he was sending her to deal with the Jedi. He stood a far better chance, and he would have been efficient and decisive. She could have commanded the battle long enough for him to dispose of the Ashlan, restore power and control to the defenses, and return to the field. Even so, she knew better than to question his orders.

And she didn't need to anyhow. Moments later, his true purpose was revealed: this was her test. The test.

"I will not fail you."

And then she was gone, descending down the stairs with the Legionnaires.

---

Darth Strosius

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Korriban
• Ashlan Temple — Kor Naskor
• Objective III — Dash Them Against The Stones
• Tags — Darth Nwul | Kyraj | Zal Aditi | Elmindra Xitaar
• [ _Open ]

Darth Caedes stood tall on the precipice of Kor Naskor. Swathed in Sith robes adorned with intricate golden runes, he exuded an aura of grim pride. As he gazed down upon the desecrated temple and the fleeing Ashlan, the failed Jedi, a twisted grin crept across his lips. Below, chaos reigned as the final remnants of the Ashlan Jedi Order, their loved ones in tow, fled in terror, the air echoing with anguished cries for help!

Darth Caedes leaned to observe the machinations of the Omen's Sith. Kyraj, a whirlwind of destruction and embodiment of the dark side's fury, showcased both his battle prowess and an unyielding dominion over the Force. The hopeful neophyte, Nayne, devoured the weak-but-wise, their souls screaming out into the Force to send shivers down the back of Caedes' neck. Yet it was Zal Aditi, the Voice of Hunger, whom Caedes thought reveled in the truest essence and terror of the dark side. A manipulator of minds, the young Omwati delighted in plunging her victims into the depths of their own fears and ultimate freedoms, flooding them with wisdom and potential in one moment, starving them of it all in the next. The innocent emotions of fragile children flared with their ghastly moment of recognition, the purity and exquisite flavor of their confusion and pain unparalleled. Once, Caedes himself had delighted in the play of his powers and the fragile snap of lesser minds. Once, he too had tested the strength of the dark side's influence against such lofty ideals as Love and Family and Friendship. Soon, he would again.

Caedes reveled in their power.

"You know NOTHING about me," Kyraj seethed, the Jedi broken at his feet.​

"You talk of monsters while Jedi roam the galaxy killing just as freely as Sith. Where were YOU when I needed a way out?"​

Pushing off from the precipice edge, Darth Caedes descended like a specter of death and black silk from behind Kyraj. He was silent as he touched down upon cold stone, his gaze forming daggers of ice, his rictus snarl one of gloating and mockery for the sputtering Ashlan Master.

"No. There were no Jedi to save people like me. I found my freedom the only way I could."​

​

Around him, reptilian warriors bit necks and snapped bones, a maddening chorus of hissings and thuds, and wet explosions. Caedes' grin pushed wider and wider still, meeting his ears and stretching further. The dark side of the Force thrummed, pulsing and swelling, reaching ever upwards and outwards, suffusing him with chilly power. Death, everywhere. Below him, the Ashlans descended further into Kor Naskor's depths, oblivious of the fates awaiting them. Within the shadows, Korriban's beasts stirred, their primal instincts sharpened by an insatiable hunger and the vengeance of the long silenced. Before him, the Jedi gaped and moaned, his quivering presence in the Force diminishing with the gradual acceptance of defeat. In those final moments, before the searing heat of orchid blades bit deep into his flesh, the Zabrak Jedi sent a wave of forgiveness to Kyraj, closing his eyes as if to say I'm ready. Death, there was death everywhere.

"I don't need to justify myself to a hypocrite like you."​

​

Darth Caedes raised a hand and let the Force flow through him, breathing it in, turning his eyes and veins black. All at once, as if heeding some silent call, the Rajakzânkut withdrew from their grim work, heaving themselves off of bodies, standing, and becoming silent. Drawing upon the essence of the freshly slain Jedi, Darth Caedes reached into the abyss of the dark side to unleash the Tsaiwonokka Hoyakut. With a grim determination, he extended his gnarled hands towards the fallen warriors around him, their corpses scattered throughout this and adjacent chambers, down labyrinthine tunnels, and along now-silent, dark walkways.

The dark side of the Force responded, and through its conduit he reached into the corpses of the freshly felled Ashlans and filled them with renewed purpose. Gradually, slowly at first, his spell took hold. Bones snapped back into place, teeth clacked, muscles flexed once more, and the eyes of the dead flickered to life. One by one, hundreds of corpses rose from the blood-stained ground, their faces eerily preserved, frozen in a now eternal semblance of life. Jedi, leaders, daughters, grandmothers, they rose one after another, sons, cousins, apprentices, newly weds. Rise.

"This is sufficient for my purposes, Apprentice," he said, the dead nearest Zal echoing his words with their own, dried voices.​

"The Ashlans above were prepared to face warriors in combat, but they will never stand a chance against this. Let your family sate itself without restraint. The feast is upon us..."​

With another flourish of his wrist, Darth Caedes sent the horde sprinting and clamoring upward, hungry for flesh, eager to reunite with their kin and guardians. Above, at the temple's entrance, unsuspecting mothers and fathers, sisters and uncles, battled with everything they had against the Omen's siege, their backs turned and necks exposed, the sound of their violence drawing on the unearthly horde.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They'd thought to mask their presence by hiding behind those that already lay dead upon the red sand, lying in wait for those who would next trespass through their crumbling dominion. Leaping up from the sand, they wore the garb of the Ashlan, but sullied by grime and weathered tear. Lightsabers sprung to life, a kaleidoscope of greens, blues, and yellows, while red snap-hissed in answer. There were no words given, only determined glances as the two forces met with all the tumult and fury of a raging solar storm.

Carnifex was chief among the Sith, moving like a ferocious shadow as His blade snapped at the Ashlan's. They recognized Him for what He was, and sought to surround and overwhelm Him. But His bladework was too refined, too quick even when a dozen or more came at Him from every direction. The other Sith moved to reinforce His flanks and His backs, putting themselves in harm's way to protect their Lord and Master; their Eternal Father.

"Drive them back, my children, let the tuk'ata feast upon what remains."

With a lightning-fast backhand, Carnifex shattered the jawbone of one of the Ashlans and sent the man careening back into his fellows. With another, He concaved the chest of another assailant, the woman only managing a gurgling wheeze before she collapsed to the ground and began to suffocate. His lightsaber hewed limbs and heads without pause, a pile of the dead slowly accumulating at His feet.

"Blessed Quintessa, to me! We shall cut a path through them to the temple!"

Quintessa Lirka Ka ​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Multiply and Replenish
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: 3 34125

​

As the blaster fire, soon joined by the telltale sound of a lightsaber carving through something that began screaming, grew further with each step down the stairs so too did it seem to grow darker. Colder as well. By the time that the Legionnaires and the Acolyte had reached the bottom of the stairs the only source of light was the flashlights coming from their weapons and whatever small lights dotted their other equipment. It was remarkably cold as well, with one able to see their breath if they weren't wearing some sort of helmet or mask.

After sweeping the immediate area to ensure that there were no additional hostiles at the base of the stairs, one of the Legionnaires turned to face the Acolyte. Seemingly the leader of the squad based on their slightly more ornate markings on their helmet and pauldrons, the soldier produced a datapad from one of the pockets lining their belt and offered it to her.

"Schematics for the lower levels ma'am, should be able to serve as a map and allow you to find the archives." With a tap on the screen the datapad flashed to life, displaying what must have been the layout of the lower levels that they now found themselves in. At the center of the screen was a small, blinking dot. "That represents this device. The archives should be at the far left of the building."

The Legionnaire seemed both formal and slightly hesitant at the same time, as if they were unsure of why the Acolyte was there at all. Perhaps they were simply used to the Sith Knight handling such matters. "The generators should be roughly in the center of the building. If you need aid then call for us on the comms and I shall send all that I can spare to assist you. May the Force bless you ma'am."

With a deep bow of her head the soldier then turned to gesture for her squad to move forward, in the opposite direction of where Maerae would be heading. "Keep tight and keep your eyes out. The High Priest has given us an order and no Jedi will prevent us from accomplishing it. Move out!" Without hesitation the Legionnaires marched into the darkness in a tight and secure formation, watching their corners and blindspots as best as they could with so little light available.