Siren's Song [TSE Dom of Iego Hex AJ,29]

[Vestille Thumahra]

DRIZOTH​

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Iego​

Objective II: MEET THE FAMILY​

Challenging: [member="Darth Carnifex"]​

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Pain. Oh the pain.

How he had longed to feel it once more.

As the Emperor allowed his influence to manifest as lightning and held nothing back, the current surged through Drizoth like he were made from water. Hatred, anger, all that which consisted of the Dark Side of the Force rushed through the demon's possessed body. Nothing held back, nothing barred from being allowed to scorch through the demon's physical anchor and, by the sounds of it, the demon roared with pain. Yet this pain, the one that vibrated the very ground with the sound-waves produced, held a tinge of relish in the fact-- Something suggesting that the pain, whilst being innately negative, held something positive wrapped in all that was reactionary to the torment of being burned by the lightning produced from the Emperor's hand. A feeling that had been lost for countless decades, rekindled by the snaking energy that circulated through Drizoth's veins. A glutton for not only hunger but also the pain that came from such actions-- Drizoth was a demon, a spirit of masochism as pure as it came. The skin burned, the bone blackened but this was merely a side note to the demon-- The body would wither and die, that much was certain but ultimately, he would survive and endure... For that was his plan and his purpose.

The body was torn asunder, smoking and charred... Yet Drizoth was not finished with it, not yet.

The demon stumbled back, letting out a hearty chuckle; "WELL STRUCK, CARNIFEX! THE BODY OF THE ONE YOU CALL VESTILLE IS DESTROYED, THERE WILL BE NO RETURN, NOT FOR HIM! YOU PROCEED MY PLANS, JUST AS I INTENDED." the demon held out both his hands, sword still in his grasp as the near maniacal chuckle that came from that maw never ceased. If there was any sense of self-preservation, the demon would have laid down his arms and accepted surrender yet... That was wishful thinking. Drizoth instead sent himself forward, Executor high in the air as it seemed that the demon was being foolish enough to charge the Emperor head on. A final stand, utilizing a body that by all rights had nothing left in it. A suicidal charge, one last hoorah into death. All seemed certain upon the death of the one named Drizoth, the spirit from Nathema that had laid dormant for countless years, all now to be put down by the Butcher King.

Yet, the demon had a plan up his sleeve. All it took was the final swing.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: III Toong'L
Gear: Sith Imperial Cadet Uniform | Lightsaber | Dagger | Wristlink
NPC Forces: AT-SP | AT-HAW | TIE Fighters | Stormtroopers

[ the siege of toong'l ]​

The kitten rode in the back of an Iota-class heavy transport.

Sipping on some fruit juice, the young Cathar reviewed the last status report that they had received from the ground. It seemed that the forces of [member="Ela Saako"] were continuing their own assault on the ground.

The last remnants of resistance were being swept away. Soon, Toong'L would be another planet in the grip of the Immortal Sith Emperor.

The Sith were making their base camp outside of the energy shield's perimeter, forming a makeshift base out of modular containers. Walker carriers were dropping the siege vehicles inside the rudimentary forward operating base, as TIE fighters circled like vultures overhead.

Disembarking from the transport, the boy filed out behind the column of stormtroopers that were now moving out in preparation for the long road march ahead of them.

Meanwhile, the boy made his way over toward where the singular All-Terrain Siege Platform rose like an iron giant over the staging area, surrounded by the smaller two-legged heavy artillery walkers.

If all went well, the repairs to the orbital assault ships would be complete and Captain Ghazikhanian would be standing by for the order to strike by the time that Micah had dispensed with the shield generators protecting the ion cannon.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"A pity."

The callous words of the Sith Emperor rung out across the battle-scorned square, his eyes hard and absolute in their certainty. Hatred boiled inside of him, the door of his furnace heart opened just a sliver to allow the intolerable heat of his anger sally forth and condense into true power. With his left arm still raised the Emperor poured that hate and anger into his limb, the skin smoldering as the coagulated power took an immediate toll on his body.

"Sutta Chwituskak!"

All of that collected energy was suddenly released, taking on form and substance as a sphere of congealed black and red discoloration that flew through the air out from the Emperor's outstretched hand. The energy collided with the demon's body directly, and the effect was immediate. Physical material was blown apart, scattered across the square as ashes, while the energy detonated with the intensity of an exploding star, the nearby stone melting into molten slag as a wave of air flattened everything around the point of impact for several meters.

Only the Emperor withstood the blast, himself protected by his own mastery of the forces he had unleashed.

By the end, all that remained was a crater of smoldering ruin where the demon once stood. Though his physical body was vanquished, the Emperor did not doubt for a second that this wasn't the last we'd see of that creature. The fiends of the Netherworld of the Force were trickier than that, much like he had become since his first dip into that chaotic realm. Still, he stymied the creature's schemes at this juncture, and that was satisfactory for now.

Returning to the King's Palace, the Emperor again met with the newly crowned King of Iego. They spoke at length to the meaning of Iego's induction into the Empire, and finally, they settled on a compromise. Iego and its thousand moons would become a protectorate of the Sith Empire. A degree of autonomy would be granted to them in exchange for loyalty and a percentage of their warriors conscripted into the Sith-Imperial Legion.

Several of the moons would be converted into Imperial bases to maintain and project the Emperor's authority, a constant reminder as to who the Maelibus truly paid service to in this new age.

[member="Vestille Thumahra"]​

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Why yes, it was mildly irritating to see other Sith capture their foes so efficiently.

Actually, it was mortifyingly embarassing.

And that had the fortunate effect of making Er'in very angry indeed.

Her purple eyes blazed and she gestured casually with one hand, sending an arc of lightning raking out into the creature, strong enough to stun, but not enough to kill it. The beast howled and staggered back, and Er'in advanced, lightsaber forgotten in her irate fury. She ignored the blows the creature struck against her - jagged rents in her flesh that wept blood and - for some reason - sparking purple lightning.

"Kneel." She snapped, her tone imperious.

Naturally the creature refused, screaming its melodic defiance.

She raised one hand, then brought it down with force of will she didn't entirely know she possessed, the telekinetic force grabbing the creature and slamming it to the ground in a forced kneeling position.

"I said kneel. You should be thankful, demon. I'm about to exalt you beyond your kinds weaknesses." Plans flashed through her head faster than she could focus on, mixed up images, diagrams and ideas for modification of this creature that were driven as much by instinct and temper as intellect.

She needed space and time. There was an old spell, from that text she'd found in that tediously boring asteroid...

"Kinta Nelaise!"

Lines of light radiated out from the creature along the ground, cracks of purple that faded to infinite darkness as they fed on Er'in's pain. They wrapped up with perfect geometry, forming a sphere around the demon, then spreading out to encompass it, an orb roughly bigger than the now invisible creature, a perfect event horizon into Er'in's manifest pain and hatred.

Which shrank, steadily, until it became a gemstone of infinite blackness hanging in the air before her, which she plucked with bloody but elegantly manicured nails.

Carbonite is for Hutts and bounty hunters.

 

[Ela Saako]

OBJECTIVE III - PART IV - [member="Micah"]

Ela's forces were barreling on their goal. The natives were being slaughtered like animals. As her blades whirred like lumber droids, she began to wonder whether or not she could enslave them and make butt loads of money doing so. They seemed quite easy to subdue given enough power and they seemed at least somewhat intelligent. Great money, indeed.

Finally, after something like a dozen hours of fighting, they finally arrived at their destination. They were within striking distance, however Ela decided it might be wiser not to waste precious soldiers to do so. She contacted the fleet.

"Saako to orbit fleet. We are out our goal. Do we invade or do we wait for you to blow them to pieces?"

As she asked, a missive came in from her connections inside the quartermaster's department. They needed someone to analyze the locals in order to enslave them. This was her chance. She gave command of her troops to a dedicated Imperial officer and jumped on a ship to the processing plant.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Objective I: Establish a military presence on Gand and find the Findsmen
Location: Gand Settlement
[member="Nidus"] [member="Darth Eversor"]

Fire, bright yellow and furious crimson, whirled around Joycelyn as it snaked its way through the building. It busted open barred windows and curled through before diving back into the building like the lashes of a sun or a hungry serpent invading a nest. Smoke rose from the ceiling and buildings nearby creaked from the sudden evaporation of moisture; paint curled and peeled from the walls, and even the legionnaires had to shield themselves from the intense heat.

And as quickly as it had been summoned, the serpent of fire dissipated.

In the middle of the ruined floor level of the estate stood the black armoured Darth Vornskr the Second, sabre in hand. The blackened floor lightened in a circle around her feet where the fire had not touched it. The sabrestaff in her hand was untouched, and with the barest flick of her wrist, she pushed the one inch of Zaudraka's unsheathed steel back into his black scabbard.

"Advance to the next fortification."

-She ordered her troops as she looked up at the charred corpses littering the stairs and the ashes of the barricades to which they had entrusted their lives. Her armoured boots challenged the integrity of the duracrete as she climbed the stairs and crushed charred bones underfoot as she ascended. The hallway split into two new stairs, leading to the third and final floor, and she climbed those as well.

At the top there were more bodies strewn throughout the floor; they were curled in pain and terror, arched against the phantom flames.

But at the end, under one of the windows, there was a single Gand still alive. Half his body was burned beyond function, but he still lived. With his still-whole hand, he lifted his blaster, but could not aim for the violent shakes.

"The Findsmen"

Joycelyn asked, the red eyes of her helm focusing on the singular Gand.

"Gone. Beyond your reach." "Pity."

Joycelyn looked down and reached up to her helmet, touching the toothy seam, which parted and unveiled her face. Clicking metal retracted and sealing-foam fizzled away. She set her eyes on the Gand and focused on their form, hatred flowing through her gaze as they seized in a staring contest. The air tensed between them and smoke rose from the Gand's skin. He winced, but did not lower his blaster.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: III Toong'L
Gear: Sith Imperial Cadet Uniform | Lightsaber | Dagger | Wristlink
NPC Forces: AT-SP | AT-HAW | TIE Fighters | Stormtroopers

[ the siege of toong'l ]​

The young Cathar was riding shotgun inside the mobile siege platform.

Catching up on the communications, the kitten was sorting through the various bits of information when he saw the message from [member="Ela Saako"] come across the grid.

"Do we invade or do we wait for you to blow them to pieces?"

It'd be nice if there was still an operational fleet in orbit. Sadly, they were still working to repair that. "Proceed with the invasion," the boy responded, without explanation. What's done was done. Let's be solution oriented.

In front of the Cathar's forces, the AT-HAWs were peppering the resistance as they fled before the stormtroopers columns that moved before where the kitten's forces were advancing on the shield generators.

Before him, the technicians were checking to monitor the progress of the advance into firing range.

Step by step, slowly, the shield generator crept ever closer to the firing distance of the walker. As the kitten watched, the red rolled over green as the distance closed to within firing distance.

"Target, maximum firepower."

 

[Ela Saako]

OBJECTIVE II - PART I

[member="Micah"] had ordered Saako's brigade into battle and had begun bombardment. This was good. Ela, on the other hand, was rushing to the processing center to get a hold of as many slaves as possible. She needed them to get a good bit of leverage come time to start her indenture corporation.

As she arrived at the processing plant, Captain Talia had told her that the brigade had successfully taken over the fort. Woop tee doo. Carnifex was surely going to congratulate her for it.

The processing plant was full of merchandise. Quite good merchandise, as Ela's slaver instincts told her. Many could likely work as miners. Some as farm help. Others could even be bullied onto the battle line in exchange for their freedom.

"To whom go the spoils of war?" Ela said calmly.

The head slaver would smile, recognizing this as a term of art among slavers. Saako was one of his own.

"To anyone whom command dictates," he responded

"May I study the merchandise in the mean time?"

"You may."

Ela would then have her anatomy equipment brought in. She would measure anatomical measurements, have slaves lift weights, as well as do medical experiments. These natives had to be studied in depth before they could be sold at a large price.

 

[Amseth Typho]

Objective: I- Handle the Findsmen
Allies: N/A

As the bombing and shooting continued, Amseth wrapped up his pitch to the clan leaders. "So in conclusion, gentlemen, while I know it goes against your better instincts, I assure you that full cooperation with the Sith Empire and the Court will be in the best interest of the Gand. Your people are an invaluable asset, with both your unique physiology and special talents, and can play a core part in the new Imperial Vision. Let us advance onwards, together." There was applause, thunderous applause from the audience. The Gand had been intrigued by his demonstration of Project Clemency's results, and truly enthralled by Amseth's proposed future projects. The Sentinel plan was something Amseth was proud to announced, primarily because he knew it would appeal to the Findsmen. He knew that even as their people were massacred around them, the Gand would come around to his way of thinking. It was perfectly set in stone, everything was exactly as foreseen. Not through the force, of course, but his own plans and predictions.

How utterly boring.

As he returned to the shuttle, Amseth sighed in disappointment. There were rumblings of a "crusade", perhaps he could go partake in that. No, no, best that he stay at home and keep watch over the Sentinel Plan. With the Gand almost certain to be on board, development on that one would advance considerably. Father had already said that the slave would represent the house in that affair. Well, he wouldn't be the slave any more, he was set to be freed upon knighthood. It was a sore spot between the two, granting Tehkyram peerage as part of House Typho.

Frustrating.

Exhausting.

Why did Amseth feel so tired? He had won yet again. What was he missing? Why were his victories so hollow? When would he finally have a genuine challenge?

 

[Ela Saako]

OBJECTIVE II - PART II

Ela was overjoyed at what she was seeing. However immoral it may seem, she was going to make a butt load of money off of this merchandise. Not only that, her friendly relationship with the head slaver, mixed with her Sithishness, meant that the higher-ups would be far more likely to give them to her. After all, Sith are all about strength.

As she proceeded to analyze the anatomical properties of the natives, she began to start wondering who she could sell them too. The Sygerrians maybe? The Hutts? Adrian Vandiir? Some buyer from the purse worlds? Or maybe she could use them for her own purposes. All good possibilities.