Dominion Shape of Power || SO Dominion of Maya Kovel

[Master of Terror]

Rell Varso was still negotiating docking fees when the lights over Bay Seven dimmed and failed. He leaned back in his chair and glanced up at the ceiling panels, already irritated by what he assumed was another power fluctuation. Across from him, Jessa Kain folded her arms and waited, her expression fixed somewhere between boredom and suspicion.

“That’s the third outage this week,” Rell said. “If you want priority clearance, the price just went up.”

Jessa opened her mouth to argue, but the deck shuddered beneath them with enough force to rattle the consoles. A deep impact rolled through the structure, followed by a pressure wave that sent loose cargo sliding across the bay. Rell stood slowly, his hand braced against the table, as the station’s ambient noise dropped into an unnatural quiet.

“That wasn’t infrastructure,” he said.

The silence broke when a freighter outside the bay lurched sideways, its engines cutting out as it lost lift and slammed back into the lower docks in a bloom of fire. Jessa took a step back, her confidence finally cracking.

“Who did you sell to this time,” she asked.

Rell did not answer. He was already trying his comm, cycling through channels that returned nothing but static. Around them, dockhands began to shout as they realized the traffic grid was no longer responding. Security personnel raised weapons with uncertain hands while civilians started to move without any clear direction.

The first Sith warship broke through the cloud cover without slowing. Its hull cut across the skyline as if the city beneath it was irrelevant. No transmission followed. No demand was issued. A turbolaser strike tore through the port authority tower and split it apart, sending molten debris cascading into the streets below.

Jessa stared upward. “They didn’t warn us.”

Rell nodded once. “They didn’t come to take the place.”

Sith ground forces deployed within minutes, moving through transit hubs and power centers with precise intent. They ignored districts that offered no resistance and erased those that tried. Negotiation attempts never reached anyone with authority. Evacuation efforts collapsed as exits were sealed and launches were intercepted without hesitation.

Rell ran when the shockwaves reached the docks. He made it several blocks before he was thrown to the ground by another impact. He stayed there, pressed against the pavement, as a transport lifted overhead and vanished in a flash when it was destroyed before clearing the skyline. Above him, smoke rolled across the city while distant structures collapsed under sustained fire.

By the time darkness settled over Maya Kovel, the outcome was clear. The Sith had not come to rule the world or stabilize its chaos. They had passed through it with purpose, leaving behind destruction that could not be mistaken for occupation. Those who survived understood what the neighboring systems soon would as well. This was not consolidation. This was a warning delivered at full force.

Maya Kovel was the first to receive it.

Objective One: Break the Illusion

Maya Kovel survives on the belief that no one power will commit fully to destroying it. That belief must be shattered. Key ports, transit hubs, power relays, and symbols of local authority are to be struck hard and visibly, ensuring no faction can claim control or protection once the advance begins.

This objective is not about holding ground. It is about ensuring that every observer understands that neutrality, distance, and obscurity offer no safety. The illusion that Maya Kovel can endure by remaining useful to everyone must be destroyed along with the structures that support it.

Objective Two: Deny the Exit

As the assault unfolds, escape becomes the most dangerous form of resistance. Smugglers, brokers, and rival operatives will attempt to flee with assets, intelligence, or influence that could be turned against the campaign elsewhere.

All viable exits are to be contested, disrupted, or eliminated. Ships attempting to lift without authorization are to be intercepted. Communications meant to warn nearby systems are to be silenced. What survives Maya Kovel should do so by accident, not design, and nothing of value should leave the world intact.

Darth Strosius Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Darth Tormenta Darth Nefaron CT-312​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Maya Kovel would fall.

But it's people would not know the generosity of Sith rule.

They would know the lash. They would know terror.
​

More importantly, Darth Nefaron would gain a fresh new stock for the ever-hungry forges on Anoat. The orders for this operation were simple: deny those who sought refuge off-world the chance to flee. The Corpse Lord would follow that command to the letter, but he would not do it out of duty to the Empire or the desire to simply kill. Orbiting ships prepared to board fleeing vessels in the name of Nefaron, but the Dark Lord himself had taken to the surface to revel in the smell of fear, to watch the helpless inhabitants experience a full-scale invasion.

But he certainly might do a little killing along the way.

Unfortunately for Nefaron, the competition for this desert-covered rock was fierce, for other Dark Lords descended on the surface for their own purposes. Since the fall of the Tsis'Kaar, the Lords of the Order were growing restless, desiring conquest and power of their own outside of the established system. All sought a name for themselves in the territory abandoned by the Galactic Alliance as it fell apart. While power was part of the path Nefaron walked, in the end, all he desired was to see every living being writhe and scream, and this humble little world would be yet another stone on the path to that goal. In a way, those who died this day were lucky, for those who lived long enough to see Anoat's surface would certainly wish they died this day.

While Corpse Legion raiders spread out, ransacking every nook and cranny for useful slaves, the Terror Lord walked deserted streets as war came down upon the inhabitants. Starfighters engaged in fierce battle above while the sky darkened with the legions of the Sith, all taking different chunks for their own. But to Nefaron, this was a buffet of fresh subjects, for panic had gripped so many that they ignored the gaunt, pale Sith Lord who hobbled about. Of course, some glimpsed his cloaked features and experienced a whole different sort of fear, but they did not live long enough to cry out as they found their windpipe pinched shut or a set of needles driven into their neck that filled their bloodstream with Nefaron's insidious toxin, bringing forth their deepest fears before they were silenced forever. Eventually, though, organized resistance would form, local militia and gangs gathering together if not to resist the Sith then certainly to escort civilians to awaiting ships.

One such group found Nefaron. At least a dozen armed men and double that number of civilians. It seemed they found a smuggler to take them off-world.

How tragic Nefaron found them first.

"Look, old-timer, I don't have time watch you hobble toward the landing platform, so move!"

Nef locked eyes with this man, a middle-aged human of average build. He wore a mask, like most humans who lived on Maya Kovel, to avoid the endless dust kicked up by mining and windstorms. Yet nothing could hide the man's expression when he saw what truly lay beneath Nefaron's cloak.

"I am old, but that doesn't mean I'm slow. I think for your innsolence I will rip you in half and eat your heart."

The man gave Nefaron a bewildered look. That same look remained plastered on his face when a red lightsaber appeared from seemingly nothing and sliced him in two in a single, clean cut at the waist. The remaining milita were too stunned to move for a time, and they watched as the Corpse Lord plunged his withered hand into the man's chest to remove his heart. With his trophy in hand and Corpse Legionaries emerging from the street behind him, Nefaron began his revelations.

"Fight back. It's far more enjoyable that way."

TAGS: OPEN​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Strosius Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Darth Tormenta Darth Nefaron CT-312 [Open]
Location: Maya Kovel [Ground]
____________________________________________________

Nothing was said.

No announcement. No communication…No warning, only, a shift in the air. Pressure crept inward through the ruined skylanes of Maya Kovel that had nothing to do with the turbolaser fire that swept in from the sky. Fires continued to burn. Screams still echoed. Her people still vehemently hunted, performing, as they had been designed to do. None of it stopped—But every Sith Lord present would feel the same, quiet, recalibration.

It meant that she was present, that somewhere, on this sacrificial globe…She had arrived.

Srina stood amid the wreckage with armor slightly scorched, with ash, clinging to her skin. Mercurial orbs reflected the ruin, hollow, as one who accepted what must be for the greater whole. Everything, for her children. Everything.

So…This was the warning.

This was the type of aggression she despised the most, but even she, knew the value of delivering a lesson loudly enough that neighboring systems would learn it without being told. It wasn't conquest, rule, or even cruelty for its own sake. It was a teaching, instruction, for other worlds to learn how to survive. To know that, even while war loomed in their future, none were untouchable. None survived unless the Order allowed it.

Her cold haze drifted skyward to track the shattered silhouettes of fleeing vessels that never made it past the upper atmosphere. Efficient, but excessive.

Untidy in places…But the message would hold.

Her hands rose, delicate and slender, while the phylactery that was usually nestled close to her chest rose in the air. It oozed with a presence that did not quite belong to her, but she could manipulate it all the same. From the death, from the mayhem, she drew the negative energy in and began to convert lost souls to power. "I am here…"

Her whisper was soft, almost gentle, toward the unholy object that sucked down life itself like a dehydrated man in the desert. "I am here."

The phylactery answered.

Not with hunger but with a slow, echoing twang, that rippled through the air like a long-held breath finally being released. Threads of pale, fractured darkness bled from ruined streets and collapsing towers, swirling, toward the phylactery in an endless spiral. She took what remained, their memory, fragments of life, and poured it into the only vessel that could contain it.

Use it.

War was coming.

They needed everything they could get, every advantage, no matter how abhorrent. Her expression remained solemn, almost sad. Her figure was one of a slender angel of death amongst the ruined backdrop with silver-white hair blowing in the wind. The flow did not lessen while she funneled power in its purest form, purposefully, focused on the object in her hands. Darth Carnifex would hear her, sense her, through the sacred vessel that held both damnation and salvation. Her heart beat in her chest, loudly enough that she could hear it. Blood rushed in her ears...They phylactery calling to her for more.

She was indeed the monster that many thought her to be, the creature that many feared behind the Blackwall. She gave the destruction purpose. She gave it something, anything, so that every death was remembered. So that the lesson was not wasteful and empty. All around her, the decimation continued, all around her…

Maya Kovel burned.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kainate destroyers hung low in the atmosphere, their dark, angular silhouettes a portend of doom. Starfighters buzzed around their immense superstructures, darting off only when an unrecognized vessel was detected and then quickly slipping back into formation at the conclusion of the hunt. If at all possible, escaping vessels were disabled with ion cannons and then towed away to be processed. But, more often than not, they were simply blown out of the air, their remains crashing into Maya Kovel's surface like a meteor shower.

It didn't matter how tearfully they pleaded, or what riches they offered. The Sith had come to burn, and no amount of begging could ever persuade them from their task. Not when the Empress was watching, not when the Shadow Shogun too had been put into play. The Dragon and the Tyrant, again entwined in dance.

He heard her from across the stars, for no distance, however vast, could truly separate them. A gust of wind, ripping away a cloud of dust from the sullen earth around her, enough to briefly obscure all vision. The roar of engines overhead as a squadron of Kainate fighters streaked through the air, their harrowing whistle-whine hear for kilometers around; signaling the advent of the world's demise.

Then He was there.

Standing before her, His shadow enveloping her in its dark embrace. He always came when bidden. Not as a dog obeying the whistle of its master, but as something far greater than any could hope to fathom save her; for she knew such truths. His cloak billowed at His back, overlapping Beskar scales catching the light of dying ships plummeting to the earth below. His eyes looked into her own, reflecting not empathy but understanding. He knew how such actions weighed on her.

For now, He said nothing. He only existed.

Elsewhere, another story was unfolding.

Vasha was a world not too far from Maya Kovel, a world of arid deserts and barren rock flats. Like Maya Kovel, the dark shadow of the Sith fell long across the world. Yet, whereas the Sith came with fire and death to Maya Kovel, to Vasha they came with whip and collar. For it was the Kainate that descended upon Vasha, to deliver its people into bondage and drink deep of the riches hidden within the world's bosom. Boundless riches streaked through the crust and mantle of Vasha, with even richer deposits found near the planet's molten core.

Vast lithovores descended onto Vasha, city-sized mobile fortresses that churned and devour the surface geology of wherever they tread. Population centers became the subject of mechanized warfare, rapidly deployed troop formations striking at key centers across the globe. The native Vashans, tireless insectoids, would make the perfect subject. But this was merely the opening gambit, for the Kainate would crack the world open and dig deep of the wealth hidden from sight.

All in due time, for there were none to stop them.

None who could match the might of the Kainate.

Srina Talon | Darth Prazutis | Taeli Raaf
Darth Strosius | Darth Nefaron | Darth Tormenta
CT-312 ​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Srina Talon Darth Carnifex
Objective: 1
Location: Maya Kovel
Outfit

She had never felt so...small. That was the main thought that was going through the Ersansyr's mind. She had done jobs for the Sith before, been amidst their power, strength and even their darkness...but even so, that had been for small periods. Periods of time that she could digest. But this was different. There was nowhere for her to go to recover. To take in a breathe of fresh air. Instead she was surrounded by all sides with the oppressing nature of the darkness. Death.

This had not been the "reward" she had expected for the gift that she had given Him. Reina hadn't expected anything from gifting the holocron to Darth Carnifex . Yet here she was, stood admist his presence, alongside that of the Sith Empress. Someone Reina had seen from afar. Someone important. That was the kicker for the Ersansyr. For someone who had so wanted to be someone, to be known and to be stood near two of the most well known people in the Galaxy. It almost made the oppressive feeling bearing down on her worth it. Almost.

To say that she did not quite understand the importance of this moment. It was death. Perhaps needless death. This was the kind of death that Colette had warned Reina against. The kind that her former master was concerned that the Ersansyr would end up committing herself. Was she becoming the monster that members of the Jedi thought she'd become? Was she cruel? Heartless? Did it even quite matter?

In the grand scheme of thing, no. It did not. As her hood billowed with the wind, the redhead did her best to keep it up to conceal herself. She was not normally one to hide. To wait and listen. But in this precise moment, Reina had deemed it best that she should neither be seen nor heard. It was best for her to just simply be there, as her iridescent gaze watched the destruction, watching the flames grow as Maya Kovel burned.

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | Darth Nefaron | Torvald | Reina Daival

Maya Kovel burned because Gerwald Lechner, the Dread Wolf, had willed it. There was no other reason that mattered.

The fall of the Galactic Alliance had left many worlds exposed, borders erased and protection withdrawn. Planetshift had scattered systems into unfamiliar orbits and severed old assumptions of safety. With Firefist secured, the moment had arrived to move beyond the Blackwall. Some voices had spoken against this advance, warning that such an offensive was too chaotic, too uncontrolled to serve the long design of the Order. Gerwald had never understood those permitted near Sith tables who argued for restraint dressed as morality. Such thinking mistook hesitation for wisdom.

Destruction served a purpose. Fire purged what weakness left behind. This was not conquest for its own sake, nor the simple claim of territory. The scourging of Maya Kovel was a declaration, deliberate and unmistakable.

The Sith Order would no longer remain hidden behind its Blackwall.

Worlds would bow. They would bend the knee, but they would not do so without cause. Gerwald’s plan, as he had explained when the Dark Council entrusted him with command, was simple in its honesty. Submission to the Order was preferable to any alternative. Lirka Ka had fulfilled her role. Whatever shadow network the she-elf commanded had provided justification enough for the Dreadborne to tear through the world without restraint. Maya Kovel had offered resistance. That resistance had been answered.

No mercy, no surrender. Only victory and glory.

The Berserkers of the Second Legion lived the cry with ruthless efficiency. Reports streamed into Gerwald’s HUD as the first wave concluded, each confirming what he already knew. The path had been cleared. Those who followed would not fight for ground. They would deliver punctuation to the message already written in fire.

One report drew his focus. Torvald and his berserkers had shattered the defenses of one of the planet’s largest military complexes. The lines had broken. The Old Wolf would claim it soon, which meant the Dread Wolf would as well. Whatever lay within the armories and vaults would be taken intact, stripped from the ashes and offered as tribute to the wintery empress.

She had arrived.

Gerwald sensed her before the announcement reached the comms. Whether through the Force or instinct honed by years at her side, the scent of jasmine and rain cut through the smoke and metal. They had crossed much together. The Confederacy. The rise of the Sith Order. Naedira’s return from death. Srina Talon’s ascent to power. Gerwald remained bound to the woman who had taken him from a broken hound and forged him into a predator worthy of the hunt.

If she had come to the surface, then the truth was simple.

This statement belonged to her.

Maya Kovel burned because she willed it.

Another presence lingered nearby. Darth Carnifex . The bond was not the same as it was with the Dread Queen, but Gerwald understood the debt he carried. His standing within the Order owed as much to the Butcher King as it did to Empyrean. Their clash aboard the Malsheem had forged respect neither needed to speak aloud. Carnifex was a weapon best kept close, not left to turn in unpredictable arcs. Whether their ambitions would always align was a question Gerwald allowed to wait. Where their children were concerned, an understanding remained, even if seeing Aerik Lechner on Dromund Kaas was a burden he endured rather than welcomed.

His focus returned to the present.

Annihilation.

Gerwald opened the command channel, his voice carried across Sith frequencies without strain or flourish.

<<< “The first wave is complete. Maya Kovel now belongs to the Order, to be used as we see fit. We do not occupy it. We break it. This world is our message. They resisted. They rejected our generosity. Now they burn. Let all who consider the same look to Maya Kovel and understand the cost. No mercy, no surrender. Only victory and glory.” >>>

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Tag: Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart | Open​

His father's voice echoed through the comms. Aerik drew in a slow breath as the command settled over him, the weight and authority carried in every syllable. This was not the man he knew within the walls of their home on Stewjon. The voice that addressed fleets and legions belonged to something forged for command, not the warrior who hunted beside his people or stood watch over them in quieter hours. The Dread Wolf was not one thing. He was whatever the moment required, and that truth was as unsettling as it was undeniable.

Aerik did not linger on the thought that this might come as naturally to his father as breathing. War was a language, an art, a way of life, and it was one both his parents spoke with ease. The time he spent with his mother on Brosi had made that much clear. It left him wondering what life was like beyond the Sith Order, among the Confederacy and the Knights Obsidian. Their histories did not begin in the same fires. They had not learned their lessons the same way. Aerik knew that difference well.

There was tension between the great houses again, old and familiar, drawn back to the surface by Darth Prazutis's return to their lives. His claim on Aerik as an apprentice reopened a divide that had never truly healed. What Aerik could not reconcile was his father's willingness to allow it. He doubted this freedom was granted out of trust alone. It was far more likely that both men saw him as a piece on a larger board. If that was the case, they would learn quickly that Aerik Lechner was not a pawn.

Maya Kovel had been marked for destruction. Darth Carnifex had ensured that none would escape, bringing Kainate warriors to see the task completed. Aerik was among them, as was Skadi Lightbane. Time had been scarce since Irina Jesart's unexpected visit, and the balance between the three of them remained unsettled. Aerik believed things with Rin had smoothed over, at least enough that she still wrote to him. Where he stood with Skadi was less certain.

They were partners regardless, and that much was not in question. The hunt on Stewjon had proven how well they moved together, how naturally they fell into rhythm. What continued to catch Aerik off guard was her command of cold and ice. It posed a danger he did not take lightly. He had learned early what happened when the cold took hold, and while the Force offered ways to counter it, he had never tested how far those methods could protect him. He had no intention of finding the limit.

"Look," Aerik said, motioning toward the spaceport where Dreadborne dropships crowded the landing fields. "They've taken control, but some ships are still trying to break away. Let's help."

He did not wait for her answer. Aerik broke into a run, boots pounding against scorched duracrete. If the Second Legion was here, Irina might be as well. Bringing the three of them together again was likely a mistake, but one he was willing to risk. Irina was his closest friend. Skadi was his partner. Neither role was negotiable.

Both women held a place beside him that few others would ever be allowed to occupy. Aerik wondered, briefly, what might happen if they ever recognized how formidable they could be together. It was probably a foolish thought, but that had never stopped him from testing an idea. Whether it succeeded would depend on Irina's presence.

If she was not here, then Aerik and Skadi would prove themselves regardless.

He was the son of their Imperator.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Reina Daival //:
//: Srina Talon //: Darth Carnifex //:
//: Attire //:

The burning of a planet was never something that Quinn would ever agree with. She had seen planets burn, she had seen her own planet burn — she almost burned with it. Yet, she was outvoted, and the wolf was released upon the sheep of Maya Korval.

Her jaw was tight as she received the reports of what was happening, her eyes watching her own mother, her own Empress, participate in this slaughter. Frowning, Quinn knew this was something that had to be done, if Srina fought against it — it would only prolong the destruction…

Maybe she was too soft for this. Knowing something was necessary didn't mean she was ready to accept it.

Looking towards Srina, peering under the cold exterior — she hated this as well.

There was another with them, Quinn's eyes lazily glanced over to spy strands of red hair. There were only a few copper-haired individuals that lingered in the Order — one in particular she had pulled into her sphere. Stepping towards the woman, she trailed her fingers up the fabric of Reina's cloak and pulled back the hood slightly.

It seemed Reina had chosen to hide, but for what reason made Quinn curious. Leaning from behind the woman, she let her words caress the shell of Reina's ear, now exposed.

"Why are you hiding?" Her voice, calm yet teasing, was the woman she was familiar with. Quinn pulled away as her body brushed the lightest touch against Reina. She could tell this was something disturbing to her, but it would be to anyone who had walked the path of the light.

"It's necessary…" Quinn started again, her hand carefully finding Reina's. She held it for just a moment, offering a semblance of comfort as the horrors of the acts the Sith were performing continued. A squeeze, then a gentle release, as she stayed watching.

"Unlike the Jedi, who cover up terrible things with lies of Peace… A Sith understands the means to an end…" She shifted where she stood. Like Reina, she wasn't fond of this—but the show of strength would only benefit the Order, the Empire, and the rest of the worlds the Sith sought to conquer.

"They felt the need to fight back, they were lost without the Alliance, and if we allowed this uprising, this fight, more would die, and other worlds would burn…"

Even in her tone, she struggled with the lesson before her.

"A necessary means… sacrifice one… to save many."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Oh how Lirka Ka loved to see a world burn.

There was a certain beautiful and base savagery that came with committing oneself to such a massacre. Most of her fellows wouldn’t grasp the religious significance of it all, they hadn’t walked the Dark Path like she had. What greater show of the sheer meaninglessness that so many within this Galaxy wallowed in then reducing a world to ash and cinder? For the people of Maya Korvel, their world was a beacon and a gem, their livelihood and existence. But to the storm of the Sith that now descended upon them? Mere numbers, an obstacle. Just another world. Just another massacre.

Certainly, Lirka doubted it’d take more than a cycle till the vast majority of the descending marauders forgot about this whole thing. Lirka enjoyed it in the same way one enjoyed any vice, a deluge of gluttonous cruelty to appease her warped and fried dopamine receptors in whatever counted for a brain within the Once-Sephi’s twisted skull.

A chance to relish in ego all the same - for while ultimately, the axe had come down by the command of Gerwald Lechner - Lirka’s own incessant narcissism demanded she feel rather chuffed with herself with the monster’s own suggestions to leave Maya Korval a totem burning brightly for all its neighbors to bare witness.

Yet despite her indulgent massacre, Lirka Ka danced through the battlefield with an almost autonomous boredom to her movements. A dancer that twirled and whirled upon mighty metal feet, for all her hulking size the whirring mechanisms of her suit were shockingly graceful as limbs flew and bodies broke. These people offered little challenge, indeed many would doubtfully be even worth their weight in meat.

But the still fledgling Dzara moved as a unit. Darth Nefaron had descended upon the world, with the shadow of Lirka’s Third Legion not far behind to cast a shroud beneath the plundering forces of Anoat of vague legality. They had understood that to suffocate escape was to walk their other nigh-holy purpose, the declaration that allowed two that were destined to be foes to lock clawed hands as allies.

To feast upon the dreams of the hopeless and meager.

These people would not be allowed to dream of distant lands and the glimmering hopes of rebellious escape - those that would escape the rumbling storm around their world would only do so by her will. The rest? They would drown in dread. Choked by fear, resigned to miserable existence behind the wall.

For while the Corpse Legionaries marched to their lord, the rumbling thud of Lirka Ka’s own form followed suit. Flicking crimson gore from her mighty machete, the rumbling distortion from her helmet jested out to her fellow -

“They say you’re not supposed to play with your food, O’ Lord of Anoat. It’s unbecoming.”

She knew just how ironic it was, considering the Once-Sephi damn near lived and breathed for the general annoyance of prodding, poking, jesting, and tormenting anyone weaker than herself.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Darth Carnifex
​

For the first foray of the Sadow Campaign, outside of the conquering of Chalcedon as a forward base, the Dread Wolf had planned to make the first world an example of the sort of raiding and destruction the Sith could unleash on their path towards the Core Worlds. His selected target, as Supreme Commander of the campaign, had been Maya Kovel. The Lady of Secrets had little to no interest in the desert planet beyond acquiring some of the native Ayrou for her studies, and her absence from the first world to be put to the torch would convey her thoughts on such a tactic. She and Quinn Varanin had been aligned in that regard, and even now, one of her ravens would alight onto the young Queen's shoulder so she would know her Master was watching and supporting her.

She had not been idle, however, and her oldest friend had identified a much better target than Maya Kovel. Vasha held great mineral wealth, and the local insectoids were tireless workers who could be useful for a new labor force. Even now, standing on the bridge of Kainate destroyer and overseeing the initial stages of the subjugation and extraction from the holographic displays of the planet, she was already preparing how her own power base and the Empire itself would benefit from this particular world's... fate.

The recent events with the SIBC had only underscored to the Lady of Secrets that the current system was inefficient, and she absolutely loathed inefficiency. She had suspected her old friend was subtly behind that particular organization of their domestic front, as it also allowed a high degree of controlled corruption and constrained social mobility, while allowing his influence to permeate. The others would rush out to conquer, but she would mainly remain within the borders of the Empire and her other haunts to quietly rework and streamline the system.

Vasha would be the starting point for that, and it would not just be Kainate forces descending to the world. Soldiers in knightly appearing armor would be taking other sites around the world, claiming them for the Order of Arcane Syn and hand in hand with their oldest allies.

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Strosius | Darth Carnifex [ | Darth Prazutis | Darth Tormenta | Darth Nefaron | CT-312 | Taeli Raaf | Lirka Ka | Reina Daival |} Quinn Varanin [Open]
Location: Maya Kovel [Ground]
____________________________________________________

She felt them without looking.

Quinn Varanin always lingered on the edge of her mind, not of her blood, but her eldest daughter all the same. Her heart often beat for the newly crowned Echani Queen and in moments such as these…They were often of a similar mentality. Neither enjoyed senseless death, neither, advocated for burning planets without blatant cause—But as sovereigns, they were required to accept that they wouldn't always get what they wanted.

Gerwald Lechner 's nearness was also noted. His presence in the Force was something she had memorized long before crowns and titles of this magnitude hardened around her name. He knew her better than most and knew that his speech would make her teeth bare. It was propaganda…Everyone knew it. But he had a duty, a purpose, as did she.

Reina Daival was less familiar to her, but her presence was quieter. Tucked inward…With unease that was sharp and bright. She couldn't possibly have known what she was thinking without trying to breach her privacy, but she had an idea. What sort of example did she set for them, standing tall, while this planet came under siege? Why did she have to grind her teeth to continue? Her heart was cold and made of stone, she was a creature, a thing, an eldritch beast, and so completely removed from what it meant to be near-human…

Did she still deserve to draw breath?

It was a good thing that it wasn't down to a matter of who was "deserving" and who was not. It was only a matter of strength. Power. She lived and breathed because none yet had the ability or the gall to try to remove her from the game board.

Srina did not turn toward them, not because they were not worthy of her sight but because her eyes would have revealed far too much. She hated this kind of war, not because it was violent, but because it was indiscriminate. Violence was an honest language…But this was loud and wasteful. Cruel in ways that taught not only fear, but seeds of rebellion, where fractures bred insurrection and rot. Then…They had to cut away more.

She took the same approach to this that she had taken to Alvaria not so long ago. If a planet suffered, burned, she would ensure that it wasn't for nothing. She held the phylactery aloft without touching it as she drew in the residue of power that shaped from the dead and dying. Sealing them away with care instead of hunger. For a long moment, she said nothing and remained quiet, only looking up at the Butcher King.

He demanded nothing of her. He did not judge her—He did not call her discipline weakness.

That was why she had grown to trust him over time, learning the intricacies of what it meant to have the eyes of the galaxy constantly watching her. Others might try to fill the silence with reassurance or approval, eager, to soften what could not be softened. Eager to lie to her. Darth Carnifex didn't do any of that. He simply stood—And she knew, she was seen.

"They are coming…"

Of course…He knew. Her voice was low, almost lost beneath the distant thunder of collapsing structures. The wind tugged at her hair, silver-white strands lifting and falling between them like gossamer bits of silken spider web. "They all but said it during the negotiations with the Mandalorian Empire. They will try to seize our Holy Worlds again. Soon. I have transmitted what information I have to Madrona A’Mia …Perhaps, our installations will be able to track their movements. We are not long returned from Atrisia…"

This was the reason she had traveled to the Northern Systems after the Crucifixion.

For intelligence.

"I am not the Empress they want…", she murmured, still, barely raising her voice above a whisper. Her eyes closed for a moment while she continued to draw power into the artifact that seemed to have an almost limitless ability to contain raw energy. It was not bound to her the way it was bound to the Dark Lord who was standing not two feet away from her. She could have reached out and touched him if she weren't draining this city of life before it could swirl down the mortal coil. "I do not enjoy this…Or your other activities."

Her eyes opened again, golden, and knowing…But not calling for the acquisition of Vasha to stop. Their resources were too valuable, and the war machine, was starving. Her Master had taught her long ago, what it was, to prepare for war. That while some did so with speeches…Sith prepared with weapons. Alchemy, ships. Anything that might give them leverage over the enemy. This was no different than creating tools from her Master's blood forge.

"But I am, for the moment, the one you have…I will do my duty."

She would do her duty.

She would make use of the acts she despised, so that the nation, did not forget their sovereign had rows of very sharp teeth that were primed to devour anything that stood in their way. Her eyes held his…Searching his face. Sheltered within the black presence, within his shadow, while ash and soot turned alabaster skin a shade of gray. One hand moved away from the phylactery and hovered near his chest for the briefest moment. She wasn't looking for comfort or anything so pedestrian. She sought a connection, an anchor. The eyes that knew her imperfections and accepted her as Empress regardless.

"Will you stand with me?"

It should have been…Will you stand with me "again" rather than ending it early. She would ask this of him again and again…over and over.

 

[Skadi Lightbane]

Sadow Campaign

Tags: Aerik Lechner // Irina Jesart // Open​

Skadi knew the time would come when she would need to prove her mettle, prove her worth to those who sought to use her as just another tool in their arsenal. While she hated the idea of being used as a pawn, she knew it was necessary for the time being - and so she kept her mouth shut and forged ahead despite her personal grumblings.

Today, she would get to show those around her and those in command of her that she could and would do what was asked of her, and how well she could work alongside others. Like her fellow co-apprentice and comrade, Aerik Lechner.

Truthfully, she was just excited that she would get to bash skulls alongside him and do her part to help conquer worlds in the name of the Sith.

Maya Kovel was one such world; it had been decided by greater authorities that this world would burn - and so it would. She heard the words of Aerik’s father; the world belonged to the Sith now, do with it as they pleased. It was not to be spared for Maya Kovel had resisted and rejected the Sith - a fatal error on their part. Skadi had come to learn that if the Sith Order extended a hand, it was wise not to spurn it.

Thus, this world and its people would serve as a reminder to all others the price of defying the Sith.

No mercy. No surrender. Only victory and glory. Now that was something Skadi could adhere to, for it was the way of her people too.

“Look.” Aerik’s voice cut through the thrum of her pulse that pounded in her ears, and Skadi’s turned bright and fierce eyes towards him, then towards the spaceport that was under Sith control…though a few ships still tried to flee the planet. "They've taken control, but some ships are still trying to break away. Let's help."

He didn’t wait for her to acknowledge his words before he broke into a fast run. Skadi was quick on his heels, relishing the feeling of air being pulled into her lungs from the exertion and the rhythmic pounding of her feet on duracrete. Idly, Skadi wondered if she would be here as well - the girl who had tried to burn her to death in Aerik’s quarters. Irina.

Part of her hoped so, and part of her hoped not. Either way, Skadi refused to let her emotions cloud her mind this time. They had a job to do; their petty squabbles could wait for another day. She just hoped the hothead felt the same way too.

The spaceport loomed closer; Skadi saw one ship that did not belong to Gerwald’s Dreadborne, trying to load up personnel and other items. She noticed that the ship was armed, though lightly so.

“There! They are still grounded but their engines are hot and ready to go. Looks like their ship has minor guns that could do some damage to our ground forces! Let us secure that one first and turn their guns to our advantage!” She called to Aerik, shifting her direction as she ran. Perhaps they could commandeer this ship and turn it upon the others that were still trying to escape the spaceport…

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | @Darth Neferon | Torvald | Reina Daival | Quinn Varanin | Lirka Ka | Taeli Raaf | Aerik Lechner | Skadi Lightbane

Gerwald sensed them as the fire continued to spread.

Quinn Varanin rested within his awareness with the familiarity of something long known. Not of his blood, but bound to him all the same. He did not need proximity to know she was present. Her presence carried restraint rather than abandon, resolve held in check rather than loosed. He had helped shape her before crowns hardened around her name, and he trusted that the Echani Queen would endure what sovereignty demanded, even when it ran counter to her nature.

Lirka Ka was exactly where she was meant to be.

Her presence burned hot and unrestrained, aligned cleanly with what had been discussed before the first strike was ordered. There was no uncertainty in her execution, no deviation from intent. Whatever justification had been required had been supplied, and she carried it forward without hesitation. Maya Kovel would not be remembered as a battlefield. Under the Dread Wolf’s command, it would be remembered as a warning.

Another weight entered the field, quieter and more deliberate.

@Taeli Raaf’s arrival registered not as force, but as a calculation. Gerwald did not turn toward it. He did not need to. The Lady of Secrets never arrived without purpose, and she never wasted attention on inefficiency. If she was here, then her gaze was already fixed beyond the flames of Maya Kovel. The Lord Commander allowed himself a brief flicker of curiosity at what target had earned her interest, then dismissed it. Whatever she was preparing would reveal itself in time.

Reina Daival’s presence remained muted, drawn inward and neasy. Gerwald did not press against it. Some lessons could not be taught through command or explanation. If she endured this, she would change. If she did not, the galaxy would continue regardless.

Srina Talon anchored the storm.

Her presence carried aversion rather than doubt, not to violence, but to waste. Gerwald felt it as clearly as he knew her fragrance. Indiscriminate destruction grated against her sense of control and long design. She would despise the word choice of his broadcast. He accepted that without apology. They did not always share methods, but they would forever share the same purpose. When the Dread Wolf wielded fear openly, the Dread Queen ensured that even this slaughter would serve something beyond terror.

Darth Carnifex remained close, his presence steady and unmistakable. Gerwald felt no judgment there, only awareness. Carnifex did not mistake restraint for weakness, nor silence for hesitation. He understood the weight of being watched by the galaxy, and that understanding was why the Supreme Commander preferred him near rather than distant. He had grown to respect the Butcher King.

Gerwald did not wait for words that would not come.

His attention lifted beyond Maya Kovel, already moving the board forward.

<<< “This is not the end of the message,” >>> he said across command frequencies. <<< “It is the opening statement. Signal the Legions to maintain readiness beyond this world. I want them ready to move beyond Maya Kovel.” >>>

A brief pause followed as reports continued to scroll through his HUD.

<<< “Maya Kovel is broken. Extraction teams will secure what remains useful. The rest will be reduced to ash. From here, we advance.” >>>

The wolf did not linger.

There were more worlds yet to learn.

Gerwald shifted channels without ceremony.

<<< “Torvlad,” >>> the Dread Wolf said, his voice carrying the expectation of results rather than inquiry. <<< “Report. Status of the primary complex, resistance encountered, and estimated time until full control is secured.” >>>

A brief pause followed as data continued to stream across his HUD.

<<< “I want the armories intact.. If the defenders are still capable of coordinated resistance, break them decisively. If not, finish it and move on.” >>>

 

[Torvald]

OBJ:1​

Maya Kovel. A planet rich with iron and plagued by wind storms. Torvald was no stranger to such conditions. The defenses of the assault on the fortress started with an uncommon phenomenon. Frost had fallen over their walls and a chill had crawled into the air. Soldiers posted up at the entrances and exits looked toward each other in confusion. Ahead the silent approach of a battle ship decorated in legion paint and runes began to fire down towards the walls. Prodding at the defenses, taking the main attention and the brunt of the punishment. But the ship laid empty. Only acting on automated offense, firing blindly into the enemy walls.

The Scourge waited with intimidating patience. Behind him were his platoon of battle hardened raiders. A smaller force but one not to be trifled with.

The red iron like ground began to bleed as the frost fall collected over it.

Torvalds lips developed a blood thirsty grin as The Old Wolf turned to his men.

“Fellas, tonight we have been called.”

The explosions of cannon fire and retaliation echoed from the distance as Torvald stood before his men.

“These poor bastards have drawn the attention of our great legion. Warriors of battle and bloodlust. Where other soldiers merely work for or defend their precious goods, we take them!”

He clenched his fist as his icy blue eyes ran over each man and woman's face around him. His armor clacked as he paced, the fur outer lining that clung to his shoulders were that of a skinned and tanned wookie warrior. Upon his shoulder strapped a pauldron of bone, the skull of a Nexu. Strapped upon his back was a massive double headed axe that he drew. He pressed the button and the edges flared with a crimson red.

“Tonight the ground of Iron will drink more iron! We will water this ground with the life blood of those who stand against us! Show no mercy! Flank their walls! Silence their war party! Bring glory to the legion!”

The platoon slammed their fists over their chest plates with an aggressive “ooah!” then they separated out.

Torvald raised his bracer closer to his face as he typed in a command. The ship began to fall.

“Their walls are built for mortar fire, but can it resist a ship falling on it? I wonder.”

That was when he received a call from Gerwald.

“Aaaah, Lad. You know me. We are just now opening the door.”

The feed in the background echoed a loud massive explosion as the ship collided with the wall.

“However. We may need a pick up. The men are moving in to clean up the trash inside now as we speak.”

A hearty laugh escaped him.

“They're also shooting in the wrong fething direction! Ooh they're greenhorns!”

He took a quick breath.

“Resistance? Son, they can't even shoot straight with braces. They're all shaking like leaves! We will have this fort and whatever it holds for you in no time.”

He lowered his bracer as a small squad of opposing soldiers drew nearer to him, guns trained on his body.

“You best not be doing that lads.”

He slowly raised his hands.

“But if you insist.”

A gale of wind cut in front of them kicking frost into their eyes. As they wiped away the dust and frost they saw Torvald was not there. A deep howling echoed around them as snow began to pick up.

The men looked around, their barrels pointed forward.

SLASH

SLASH

Two of the three men fell over, a cauterized wound glowed over their chests. The last man looked around his breath quickening, weapon shaking.

He heard a small sound and turned around to see a massive white wolf standing before him. Snarling, teeth bared. The man began to back away slowly.

Torvald pounced. Growls and tearing of flesh echoed around them as the soldiers screams carried along the wind like music.

Gerwald Lechner | Darth Carnifex | Srina Talon | Darth Nefaron | Quinn Varanin | Reina Daival | Lirka Ka | Taeli Raaf | Skadi Lightbane | Aerik Lechner​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

TAGS: Lirka Ka

The Corpse Lord was as horrid as his ghastly appearance let on.
​

Caked in blood, black robes billowed in the forsaken winds of a world not damned to fall to the worst horrors of the Sith. For too long, the Order had acted as mere tyrants, tightening its grip on all the worlds veiled behind the Blackwall. Yet even now, the true wrath of the Sith was contained by the trappings of law, the facade of a stable government. Yet Maya Kovel would act as a monument to the end of the charade, when the Sith unmasked themselves as the beasts that they were and brought forth a war unlike any other upon the galaxy.

Even the Empress, carrying with her the burden and trappings of Empire, could do little but give direction to the slaughter.

They were all monsters.

Nefaron would have it no other way.​

He'd quickly dispatched his prey, allowing his Legionaires to slaughter and chain those who remained in this group. Yet the Terror Lord had not come unaccompanied, for the Empire's newest Imperator had come with the same glee for slaughter that Nefaron possessed, despite her attempting to chastise him for his apparent lack of manners playfully.

"Imperator Ka, I simply embrace the joy of life. The Dark Side is always rewarding in that regard."

Crimson saber in hand, the Corpse Lord watched as fires raged, as Sith bombers sparked great fires, and an endless wave of transports delivered fresh warriors to battle. While this pathetic rock was no jewel, it was a first step toward torching the worlds of the Core. It mattered not who controlled these pampered, corrupt systems, for the Sith would come to spread fear and hate to every living soul who thought themselves safe behind the lightsabers of the Jedi or the might of the fallen Empire.

"Even you, one who remains a void to the force, must feel what is being unleashed here today. The Empress has come; she lets the carefully constructed mask fall away to reveal the monster within."

With a hand extended, Nefaron used his terrible power to rip a father away from his family and pull him into his rotten grasp, only to plunge his lightsaber into the poor man's heart and watch as the life left his eyes.

"This, Lirka Ka, is what we must goad the Sith into. We must drive them to mad frenzy, the Empress, Strosius, all of them. We will scramble over every world from here to the Core and by the time we reach the gates of Coruscant, we will have made our enlightened masters into frenzied beasts. Then they will turn on each other, and we shall be there to build our kingdom in the ashes."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Tags - Darth Nefaron

There came a time when murder became an all but autonomous thing. Lirka had crossed the precipice decades ago - it was indulgent now, sapping what little joys she could from fried dopamine receptors that seemed to ripple only by sadism. Maya Korval was nostalgic more than it was pleasurable, in days well forgotten now, the Grand Moff Lirka
Ka had marred many a world like they did today. Gems to be ground down into dust as statement of might.

Some things never changed.

She had crossed that precipice into butchery, certainly. But how many of their fellows had? How shriveled and black were the hearts that thumped within the Order? In narcissism, she’d say no heart was blacker than her own. But in a kindness perhaps most rare, she looked fondly enough out to her kindred that they too had the horrid shriveled souls of one capable of walking the Dark Path beneath the Primordial Darkness from beyond.

She did not feel much great compulsion to murder as she walked. Nefaron and his menagerie would see to that - the dead would be the lucky ones, after all.

A humorless chuckle garbled from the monster’s helm. The lord of Anoat would be subject to much the same prattling and jesting that poor Helix had to put up with when the Councillor found herself in good company.

“The indulgences of the wolf, rampaging among sheep. Though I can certainly not fault you for it - a shame we do not have finer prey in front of us.”

Using her massive machete as an almost accusatory finger, she haphazardly gestured towards the huddled masses of rabble that still remained. It may have been an inanimate object but the general disgust behind its gestures were barely hidden.

“This lot is barely worth the meat on their bones. Poor stock. They’ll burn out quickly - if they make it back behind the Wall, that is.”

Many a year had Lirka Ka spent a slaver. Most living things were judged only in their value to her ends. It had become a small pool of worthy souls that she deemed threats, allies, and the shadowy realm in between the two where most Sith fell. She may have been dead to the Force that shackled the Sith to traditionalism, but Lirka Ka was wise to matters far more esoteric and intangible. But one didn’t need to be Force Sensitive to understand what Nefaron meant.

“Cruelty ripples like waves, it is the will of the Darkness Beyond Darkness. The galaxy pulsates with the swelling of evil, the light dims and in its place, darkness. A great many Lords and Ladies have come to this system to indulge in the rampant butchery that “our” Supreme Commander Gerwald Lechner has bid for this place.”

When true humor came to her words, it was an airy and unnatural thing. Two butchers taking a leisurely stroll through their handiwork.

“Believe it or not, I didn’t even need to pitch this pyre particularly hard at all. The hunger for bloodshed is here, the hornets are buzzing. One good kick, and the nest shall come to life. Let them taste of the bloody ichor of a dead world and they shall come to find the same pleasure we have - Maya Korval’s dreams, a delectable demise.”

Nefaron was quite the fire starter, she had respect for that. At least his goals were more wise than the screaming prattle that the Wonosans threw in her face with all of Strosius’s would-be-freedom-fighter malarkey. He was a lunatic, of course (the irony of that statement, all but certainly, lost in the madness of Lirka Ka) - but he was a lunatic with vision. Kindred spirits the two of them, if they weren’t in some form or fashion destined to throttle the other.

“The Sith are a fascinating bunch, we play as nobles and lords but when the vision is focused. The hounds are loose, and the cruelty within the nature of the Code is set free.”

Even in a massacre, Lirka Ka would mull theology. But there was a glint to her words, ever so slight, the machinations of politics.

“So does this Empire need a new focus. A new foe, indulgent butchery of the Alliance’s old holdings will only satiate for so long.”

​

​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"It is in their nature to die futilely at the feet of their betters."

He'd been anticipating this moment for a long time, He knew the mentality of these impotent Imperials quite well. They'd have no recourse but to push forward again, to throw themselves into the slaughter for pitiful ideals. Their recent squabbles with the Mandalorian Empire had laid bare their inadequacies, and now they thought they could again strike at the Sith when their flank was thus compromised? Foolish and ignorant, these Imperials. The second sons of second sons.

She then spoke of enjoyment, or the lack thereof, in the course of carrying out her duties and obligations as Empress. Carnifex understood what she meant, He'd held the throne not once, but twice. The last time He'd given it up by His own decree, having finally come to the realization that the throne meant very little. The Dark Side's infinite mysteries were of greater importance to Him, and so He'd abandoned His empire in all but name to pursue them. That it had fallen not long afterwards without His stern guidance was unsurprising.

Even though she was not seeking comfort, He nonetheless took her hand in His. He brought it to His lips, and graced her knuckles with the faintest, softest kiss. His eyes never wavered, never strayed from staring directly into hers. "I will always stand with you." There was no other answer that He could give, nothing else was appropriate or true. She never had to ask, but she did, and He would always answer the same.

The Tyrant and the Dragon.

"I find no enjoyment in what I must do, but neither do I find it displeasurable. I am that which they fear, you are that which they love. It can be no other way."

Srina Talon | Quinn Varanin | Gerwald Lechner
Reina Daival | Taeli Raaf ​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag Srina Talon Darth Carnifex Quinn Varanin
Objective: 1
Location: Maya Kovel
Outfit

Her heart insisted that these people were innocent. The wrong place. Wrong time. The Alliance was meant to have protected them. But then her mind reminded her how the Alliance was meant to have protected her. The Jedi were meant to have done that. Yet here she was, in the nest of vipers themselves...

Yet her gaze was ripped away from the flames, as she felt her hood being pulled back, her eyes narrowing in concern before she heard Quinn's voice which only just seemed to bring a smile to the redhead's face...until she heard the Echani's question. Why was she hiding? Reina thought it would have been obvious.

"I don't...belong here. Amongst such greats. Such giants."

The Empress, Srina Talon might have believed Reina had been afraid of her. Perhaps even felt disgusted to be amidst her presence, but the truth couldn't be farther. Reina admired her. The strength the woman had. Of course there was fear. The same opinion was given to Darth Carnifex as well. They were strong. Powerful. Everything Reina had wanted to be herself, but believed was so far from her grasp.

She could understand how it would be necessary. Fear. Pain. Suffering. It made most people fall in line. Reina had not been one of those people however. Every encounter she had with Serina. Every bit of pain, every injury she had went through had only fuelled her frustration. Her stubbornness. Her denial. The stress that was building within her was put somewhat at ease as Quinn squeezed the redhead's hand, bringing her back into the moment.

"...I was lost without the alliance."

It wasn't something she had wanted to admit. But it had been the truth. The Jedi, under the Alliance, had taken her under the wing. Taught her that which she had little understanding of. Reading. How to speak to people. How to have respect. Yet once that ship had began to sink, Reina was one of the first to abandon it. Wandered through the Galaxy. Until she had found what she believed was her place now. Reaching out to squeeze Quinn's hand this time, running her thumb along the Echani's knuckles.

"...But I think I've found where I belong."

Her gaze flickered away back over towards Him and the Empress however, listening to their conversation. They Are Coming. Did she mean the Imperials? As He spoke, saying that it was in their nature, and that he would stand with her, Reina debated to herself. Was now the time for her to speak? She took in a deep breath, steadying her heart before she took a step forward, clearing her throat.

"They attempted to hire me. Offered me access to Ossus in exchange for my trust."

And they knew she had contacts in the Sith. That she'd be able to give whatever she found on Ossus to. It would have been the perfect choice for her, to work both sides, but she had chosen otherwise.

"They told me that working with the Imperials would help to secure my future. That I would be investing my faith in them. I would rather put my faith and future in your hands."

At that, she lowered her head, staring down at the ground. She might simply be a mercenary who dreamed of being something more, but this moment was perhaps the exact moment that she decided to align herself with the Sith.
​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | @Darth Neferon | Torvald | Reina Daival | Quinn Varanin | Lirka Ka | Taeli Raaf | Aerik Lechner | Skadi Lightbane

Gerwald listened in silence as the report came through, the background noise of detonations and wind distortion bleeding through the channel without interruption. Torvald sounded exactly as he always did when battle was going well, somewhere between amusement and appetite.

“The door sounds thoroughly opened,” Gerwald said, his tone even.

He watched the tactical display as Maya Kovel’s fortress perimeter updated in real time, defensive signatures collapsing in sequence as Torvald’s raiders pushed inward. The falling contact marker of the automated vessel registered along the wall, exactly where expected. Predictable destruction had its uses.

“Hold the interior once secured. I want whatever command structure they have intact if possible. If not, records will suffice.”

A brief pause followed as another spike of interference rolled across the channel.

“I am dispatching a shuttle to your position. It will arrive once you have established a landing zone. Signal when the walls are no longer contested.”

His gaze lingered on the shifting icons, then he allowed the faintest hint of dry amusement to touch his voice.

“And Torvald… try to leave something standing. It saves time later.”

 

[Aerik Lechner]

TAG: Skadi Lightbane | Irina Jesart​

Aerik adjusted his pace as Skadi angled toward the grounded transport, his attention already moving across the spaceport with practiced efficiency. The engines’ rising whine carried across the duracrete, sharp and impatient, the sound of people who still believed they might slip through the tightening net.

“Agreed,” he said, voice steady despite the urgency of their movement. “If they lift, they become a problem for someone else. Better they remain ours.”

His gaze tracked the loading ramp, the silhouettes moving in hurried bursts, the nervous energy of a crew trying to leave before the noose fully tightened. He could feel the tension in the air, the residue of fear mixing with the distant thunder of bombardment across the horizon.

He glanced briefly toward Skadi, a faint curve touching the corner of his mouth that never quite became a smile.

“Take the ramp. I will deal with the cockpit.”

There was no need to say more. They had fought together enough that the rhythm came naturally now, movement and intent aligning without effort. Aerik drew his blade in one smooth motion, the blue glow casting steady light across the ground as he broke into a faster stride.

“Keep them from scuttling it,” he added, already angling toward the forward access hatch. “We will make use of their haste.”

The transport loomed ahead, engines screaming as if protesting the inevitable.