Regicide

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Home called. A home that needed defending now that Ession was fortified, but Graxin knew he couldn't just return. He had not intended to retain the position of Archlord; only to setup the movement. It seemed the coalition was going to begin quite soon, and the Jedi of the Outer rim working alongside the Mando'ade would help establish order. It was all well and good.

Before Graxin could join the Coalition's armies as a general, another issue needed to be dealt with. Ekul Selah was dead, killed by the hand of a creature only known as the Queen. His last known coordinates were transferred back to Ession in a garbled message, and the Archlord had set out with a task force to deal with this new enemy.

Three Hades assault cruisers and his personal shuttle the Mephirium moved through hyperspace, their destination almost entirely unknown. The Master relied on the force to guide him and his own: it had not steered him wrong thus far.

Both [member="Felicity Mason"] and [member="Rusken Shaxx"] were aboard the Mephirium. The former being his Padawan and in need of some experience with issues such as this, the latter being Graxin's top enforcer and fellow warrior. The two had taken down a Terentatek together, an errant Queen would be no different.

"Dropping out of hyperspace in five."


[member="The Queen"]

 

[Felicity Mason]

Felicity could not have been more thrilled. She loved being out in space. If they weren't in such a hurry, she would have asked if she could go outside the ship in one of the suits. She'd never been on a space walk before. She could just imagine what it would be like, floating in a vast ocean of stars. She'd day dreamed about it, but the opportunity never arose. Maybe when this little field trip was finished.
The blonde teenager held her fathers lightsaber in her palm, carefully running her fingers across the smooth surface. It looked like art to her, made with such great care. Daddy did love to build and create. She smiled to herself, pulling her knees up in her seat. Next to her, in her bag, was her holodiary. She'd been writing in it almost nonstop since coming to train with her big brother. Writing about anything. Daddy liked to make up stories, but Felicity liked to write about real events. She hadn't worked her way up to fiction yet.
Maybe someday she'd show her diary to someone. Maybe Owain. She missed him so much. A dull ache gripped her heart when ever she found her mind going to him. She supposed that was what young love did. Made you sick.

"Dropping out of hyperspace in five."

That snapped Felicity out of her day dreaming immediately. She clipped her saber to her belt, strapping herself into her seat. Safety first, right?

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

Death, death, and more death. If unleashing monstrosities upon innocent people wasn't enough, one of the Ession's own had been put down like a dog. It was humiliating, really, to be given the knowledge about something you have no way of changing. Losing a comrade was one thing Rusken had too much experience with, and he'd be damned if he didn't do something about this one. Those who dare bring forth the fury of a guardian are obligated to be obliterated by any means necessary, and Rusken was armed to the teeth. But despite the tough exterior of the old Jedi, a great sorrow filled his mind and brought back the painful memories of past wars against Sith and the like.

He couldn't save them... he didn't think anyone could.

He was sworn to not exact vengeance and to not break his oath, but this time was different.

He would see their heads roll, and their skulls crushed beneath his seniority. The way of the Jedi Order had lost its touch with the miserable old bastard, but retribution was still on his side.

[member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Felicity Mason"]

 

[HK-17]

"No one comes back the same."

Deep in the Reef Nebula, beyond the galactic disc, rested the Liech System. Beyond any conventional charted hyper routes, so far in the Unknown Regions that even the Chiss knew not of the existence of this system. Surrounded by a miasma of asteroid belts and plasma clouds that coiled around this far-fetching and enigmatic place. Travel alone could take weeks for those who knew the quickest route, and months for those who did not. It was vastly deadly to travel, with no hyperspace beacons or routes, colliding into a star, black hole or any other astronomical object was likely. The plasma clouds distorted scanners and transceivers. The Reef Nebula was not just isolated from the galaxy, it was a black hole from which nothing was heard. To the galaxy at large - this place did not exist.

The system was seemingly devoid of life. Asteroids tumbled endlessly through the void, unhindered. On the farthest reaches of the system, a great graveyard of starcraft floated. An entire fleet pulverised into ash and empty carcasses by an unknown threat. Amongst this nothingness, a single solitary starfighter manoeuvred around the plasma clouds, excelling in speeds beyond that which the eye could follow. Deflector shields were on, and in a matter of minutes, this starfighter was slicing through the atmosphere of Tuas. A planet without population centres, without a capital, there were no cities. The entire planet was a wasteland where an entire civilisation had been made extinct by the whim of a single woman; The Host Lord. The starfighter burst out from the cloud cover, deflector shields vanished, and the landing gears began to drop.

The starfighter landed in an alcove, amongst the ruin and carnage. The hatch popped open, and out clambered The Queen. Her very appearance could win the hearts of many a man, and yet bring despair. She moved with afforded grace, but seeped an aura of dominance, power and respect. She fell to a knee, reached under what appeared to be a speeder with four wheels and pulled out a large sheet of canvas. She threw it over the starfighter, masking it. She moved through the city streets like a foreign interloper that did not belong there, moving with haste. She delved into a building on the right, the door ajar and blaster scorches tattooing the metal. She moved into the basement where a hole of great size had been dug out, and further she delved into the darkness below.

The tunnel went for hundreds of meters. It was pitch black, and the cobwebs of spiders dotted the walls and floor. A light at the end of the tunnel shone bright, and when she emerged in the light, thousands of Mynerysh and a few dozen Gen'Dai stood in a large cavern. It was carved out as an underground city of epic proportions. There were few tidbits of technology but the cavern was largely fitted with tents from which families slept beneath. Children ran past, laughing joyously, and the women sat in groups as they sowed. The men fought in sparring matches as they tested their strength for the honour of their Queen, and others were garbed in exotic armor that flared at its tips, providing a truly alien appearance. These guardsmen flanked her, and brought her to her throne.

Ikora was surprised to see someone here, and it was clear that Haras, her emissary, had not informed her of the arrival of the Primeval's dictator. The Queen did not bow, but she nodded her head curtly. She afforded Anja little respect, but enough that she herself would not find herself with a head on a spike. Ikora moved for her throne, she turned and sat, gripping the edges of the armrests. Beside the throne was a deactivated lightsaber; Ekul Selah's. It sat there like an unwanted ornament. Her guardsmen flanked her, and she offered Anja to speak, but before she would be given the chance, someone spoke up. It was Haras, and her voice was venomous, her tongue licked her dried and parched lips that cracked. A black ink-like substance dripped down her cheeks like an un-ending flow of tears from the strange three eyes hidden behind her blindfold.

The former Jedi had been a captive of the Primeval for many years, she was fourteen when she discovered the Primeval, and ever since then the Jedi Order had proclaimed her as deceased. She resurfaced on Tuas at the age of twenty-three, and she was innately corrupted. Her very presence was a cancerous attack on the Force. Something had happened to her, but even the Queen did not dare or wish to know. Ikora allowed the emissary of the Primeval to speak. "My Queen," Haras the Miscreation hissed from clenched teeth, she stood hunched, and spoke in a thin voice, "There has been a hyperspace disturbance on the far border." She seemed to relax in some form of meditation before speaking again, "Your enemies are coming."

"Did you lead them here?" Ikora asked Anja, half-threat and half-rage, but she would never outright challenge the Host Lord. The Queen was powerful in her realm, and she could strike down Anja on the spot, but the Host Lord's fleets were numberless, and her warlords were many. Ikora would never survive such a war. She waved the notion away and looked to Haras, and drew Ekul Selah's lightsaber, tossing it towards the young girl, "You did not receive the gift to use the Force so you could babble wise words. Go forth, and burn our enemy." Haras caught the lightsaber, but seemed to tremble at the thought of fighting, she bowed and made her departure. Ikora looked to one of her guardsmen, "Bring the other Jedi to me. I will show these heathens an example they will not forget. If they have come to exact vengeance for their friend, another Jedi death will be on their hands, this time."



[member="Parmi Miemant"]
[member="Anja Aj'Rou"]
[member="Rusken Shaxx"]
[member="Felicity Mason"]
[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

[Boethiah]

The Queen was afforded a certain luxury as a Warlord. She was free to rule in her own realm, take from her own land, and give sparingly to The Primeval except in fleets or armies during the times of war and crusades. So it would be expected that this given luxury would not lessen arrogance. "Do not speak out of place...", she said never addressing whom she deemed lesser by name -- ever -- except in insulation or high praise, not in a situation like this to say the least. Anja was not particularly wanting of disobedience but neither was she looking to outright challenge [member="The Queen"] , after all she was quite loyal when need be. A threat to her was a threat to The Primeval just as much the vice versa; for it was only them who kept their secrets safe and provided the means to protect them from far larger scale threats like the Sith whom now allied with The Primeval mean that The Queen is even more fortified in her dark reaches of space. "I did not come to see you so upset by such a petty threat; I assume this has something to do with you broadcasting your victories.", the Host Lord paced side to side as she spoke, one of her servants robed sat behind her quietly and seemed malnourished.

"You should show greater humility before the Gods, not boasting your kills.", the ridicule was not meant as a contest but almost a sense of wrath -- considering it an offense against the Gods themselves, to bring such risk to The Primeval at large. Although this meeting would be kept short, Anja had no intention of leaving the system until this threat was dealt with. "You will see to it that you do not fail.", she added as a digress. There was no real concern in her mind that this would be a swift victory but one could not be certain what kind of firepower the enemy -- whoever they were -- was bringing with them and what their true objective was. Anja stopped a few feet away from the throne chair, "I hope you have a plan.", she said almost slyly as if they wouldn't provide any strategic support on their part, only to remain witness and lurk in the shadow like a fox after burying its prey. This world was destroyed by The Primeval before and she suspected The Queen would never forget that. Part of having such Warlords is knowing which ones to keep under through reward and the others through fear but The Queen was far too complicated for that. Her ambitions were beyond their own, so keeping her in check required a balance of both. Letting her have what she wants but dagger close to the throat.

Everything would soon reveal itself and the pieces would fall into place. It was time to see who The Queen really was and how valuable she truly was to their cause. This enemy that was approaching would bear witness to her ingenuity and Anja Aj'Rou would watch, calculate, and determine the final course of action. If they were indeed with the Jedi whom was killed by The Queen then things would become all too certain; a war was brewing and there would be an enemy in the way of them and their Gods.

[member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Parmi Miemant"] [member="Felicity Mason"]

 

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The trip was a tedious necessity. Graxin had no idea what mind of forces the Queen had at her disposal--the Primeval were a passing thought delivered by [member="The Shadow King"], a young man whose representatives had painted in an utterly horrid light at the Coalition. The Shadow Empire had made fools of themselves, and that was a shame, they'd had potential. In turn, their reports on the Primeval were skimmed over or dismissed as skepticism.

The Queen was a real threat, corporeal and proven to be true. If her title was anything to use as reference, then she would have a force to repel the Ession contingent. The Archlord was coming prepared.

The Hades assault cruisers were some of the most advanced weapons of war on the outer rim. Smaller than capital ships or their escorts, the Hades could move swiftly, deliver its payload, of which could easily flatten kilometers of Coruscant, in a matter of seconds. It's shields lacked somewhat, but the many tons of durasteel between itself and those inside was more than enough ward off an attack.

The Mephirum was a smaller shuttle used privately by Graxin and his companions. It was equipped with stealth technologies forged from Stygium retrieved when Darth Vulcanus was killed, but otherwise boasted little threat to any kind of capital ship.

"Walk into another horde lesser." The Sith Lord's voice boomed. The sport of Vulcanus was bound to Graxin, and it spoke only to him when it so desired. "It will be Drunkenwell once again. I tell you this not out of desire to torment-- The ethereal Graug rumbled. "--but out of a desire to see my successor succeed. Glass the world."

....and then it was gone.

Graxin shivered and shook his head. He maintained some form of composure as he turned about in his chair. "I'll be deploying the Graug hordes. Peacekeepers and Dreadguard will follow if the fighting proves to be too much.
Shaxx, you and I will hunt the Queen."

He cast Felicity a wary glance. "You have control of the Mephirium Felicity. I'm afraid you'll be hurt if we take you down wherever they are. You don't need to manually fly it, just give commands to the ship's dumb AI and keep the stealth generator online. I can trust you to do that?"

It was a big responsibility. The Mephirium might end up being their only means of escape--he would trust no one else with that responsibility.

It was then that the small Ession fleet came out of hyperspace to an unknown part of space. Graxin had no name for the place, but the ring of shattered ships and shuttles that suddenly flew into view gave him a bit of a clue. They had entered some form of nebulae.

"Shab, evasive action!" He snapped into the FleetCom.

The three Hades ships exited shortly after the Mephirium. The personal ship was small enough to skirt around the debris with ease, but the Hades were much to big. The ship at the forefront was speared by a shattered cruiser, while the other two luckily avoided extensive damage by means of their kinetic shields.

Then the speared Hades unleashed part of its payload on the cruiser. The wreck blew apart in a bout of flames that scorched the Hades, and in then freed it. Graxin could see the gap closing thanks to emergency life support systems.

"This is H-1." The familiar rumbling voice of the ship's captain, Tetry'kal boomed. "Bloodied our nose, but we're still capable. Lost some engineers to the void. Destination?"

Graxin fell silent for a long moment. He glanced out past the graveyard to an entirely unfamiliar world. There, on the Navcomp. Move the fleet there."












[member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="The Queen"] [member="Rusken Shaxx"] [member="Felicity Mason"]

 

[Felicity Mason]

The girl stared at her brother in complete shock. He could not be serious.

"Y-you're leaving me behind!?" she blurted out, "But! You can't just leave me! How am I supposed to learn if I just stay on the ship all the time?"

That was the only objection she was able to spit out though. Before she could say any more, Graxin was shouting orders. She crossed her arms, clamped her mouth shut. This was humiliating. She would do as she was asked, but she was not about to be happy about it.

 

[Rusken Shaxx]

It seemed like they were all on their own, and the graveyard just outside wasn't a helpful indicator of what was to unfold. Rusken looked to Graxin and noticed the subtle ticks, furrowing his brow with an inkling of suspicion. But now wasn't the right time to raise questions against his ally, they had a war to wage. For Rusken, it felt reinvigorating to be back in the forefront of battle. To express his might as he once had in the days of old where the Republic used to actually protect and triumph; but now, they've fallen. And so had Rusken. Vengeance was on his mind, and he knew that it was wrong of him to even be content with this notion, yet it was a necessity for the current predicament. He then looked to the girl who was whining about not being able to experience action firsthand with a soft sigh and a gentle frown.

"Kid, there's things you don't want to see. There's places you won't want to go."

He stopped himself, shaking his head and sighing yet again. He needed a smoke to carry on with his speech, reaching down into his cigarette pouch and putting a single stogie in-between his lips. Lighting it with a lighter procured from the same pouch. He took a drag and then exhaled, the smoke having a reeking odor to it. A habit that needed to die, but he'd live on.

"You ask how you're supposed to learn... and quite honestly, if you were my child, I'd slap you across the mouth. You need to understand, first of all, what's to be lost out there when you decide to take on the mantle of protector or to service your people for whatever good you think you'll be dong. But hey, who am I to tell you what's what? You truly want to learn? Suit yourself."

He reverted back to dragging on his cigarette, exhaling plooms of smoke.

[member="Felicity Mason"] [member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Anja Aj'Rou"] [member="The Queen"]