Populate The Coast of High Barbary | SO Populate of Isis

[Darth Empyrean]

Little Minos Run Hyperlane
900 ABY

Following the Assembly meeting, the nomination for who would lead the campaign against the threat of the Kathol Resistance became known. In contrast to the singular leadership often found in Sith systems, it was decided by merit or by infighting that the campaign would be led by three distinct individuals. Each powerful in their own right, but divided in purpose - to share the glory amongst themselves.​

​

Given a detachment of ships, funded by the Emperor, the Triumvirate set out to break the Kathol Resistance in a sustained campaign to drive them from our worlds and their hidden outposts. Weeks of bloody and brutal warfare snapped the control the Kathol Resistance held on the worlds near the Little Minos Run. Only as their pirate fleets began to retreat to their reinforced asteroid fields did trade begin to flow again - albeit slowly, having a tangible impact on the Forge Worlds near Jutrand.​

​

With it, more forces begin to move into the region uncontrolled until now - great fleets preparing themselves on the border of the Rimward Trade League for a campaign against them as well. It is this expeditionary force solidifying our infrastructure that is building the very foundation of our invasion of our neighboring enemy. The stars slowly align to our design - and it is due to the strength of Sith we continue to grow.​

​

This support only added to the flames of their combined success, pushing them further towards the eventual goal of eliminating them entirely from the region. Each was given a task in this regard, now more important than ever as their campaign came to its apex.​

​

Objective I: Xeykard’s Ploy​

​

The Sith Xeykard had proven themselves a ruthless general. Ships under their campaign boarded pirate ship after pirate ship, bringing them back for questioning and torture. Those that could not be boarded were blown to ashes in the void of space - and his name became all the more known for the people of the Little Minos Run. Most victories were directly a result of his leadership - drawing the eyes of more than a few Sith from across the Empire.​

​

With the assistance of his peers, Xeykard has managed to discover the location of a Jedi General leading their forces. A Jedi Master known as Talon Vosra has been drawing support from would be force sensitives, assisting in making pseudo jedi to destabilize our rule. It can not be allowed to persist - and for this sin, they have called a great force down upon them.​

​

Hidden among an asteroid, surrounded by an unknown amount of hostile outposts, Xeykard is both aware of the dangers posed and all the more committed to ensuring this Jedi is removed. A dozen ships begin their assault on the asteroid belt with a violent efficiency, while corvettes and frigates patrol the nearby rocks to ensure no surprises take them. The distant, low hum of encrypted radio chatter tells them there are others waiting and watching in the void - but to what purpose?​

​

Kill the Jedi, and make sure that the Rebels can’t go through with whatever it is they’re planning.​

​

Objective II: The Terror of Darth Nefaron​

​

While Xeykard had made a name for themself by destroying ships and breaking the military apparatus of the rebellion, it was Darth Nefaron that had led the interrogation and psychological warfare aspect of the campaign. All those ships boarded had gotten him a large cadre of subjects - many of which he fed misinformation, let them escape, and then used that to assist Xeykard in setting up their ambushes and battles on better terms.​

​

It was through this, that the recent victory had been achieved in capturing Hal Holt - an ex-Mandalorian Supercommando who had helped lead the incursions on Sith space. Thus far, the man has proved resilient to their techniques, but Nefaron is not a man to give up lightly. Inside this man’s head is a thousand secrets - and they will all be known to the Lord of Terror.​

​

Plan your way to crack him, and ensure the fear Nefaron has spread fills every crevice of this man’s mind.​

​

Objective III: Trayze’s Duty​

​

While the other had built themselves as Strategic, or Fear incarnate, Trayze had moved through the familiar avenues of local worlds. On each he had set up sympathetic networks of snitches, undercover police, and stalwart patriots feeding information back to the Campaign. Where there were worlds that couldn’t allow the fleets of Xeykard, or the torture and warfare of Nefaron, it was Trayze that led the scalpel against the cancer that festered on friendly worlds.​

​

On numerous planets, he had already worked alongside Inquisitorial agents to drive rebellion and sedition from the Empire. Today would be no different - using the information Xeykard and Nefaron had helped collect, Trayze now armed himself and others to raid a warehouse filled with arms and ammunition. A key outpost from all that they had learned in the war effort against the Sith.​

​

They don’t know the raid that is about to come and meet them in their home, but it is up to you as Sith to ensure none of them escape. Let this be the end of their corruption of Sith arms, and show them what true strength looks like.​

 

[Annika Starfire]

Location: interrogarion chamber
Objective: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
Tags: Darth Nefaron
Gear: in bio

Wearing: this but with her hat

Annika had come to these interrogations as her skills with emotions and manipulation grew ever stronger. She had been involved in three such interrogations today and as she rinsed blood from her hair from the last one that had gone wrong, she looked in the mirror. She barely recognised the face that looked back at her. When she had been picked up by Darth Wallgof she had been just a holotuber, she had gone to that strange tournament and been terrified. She remembered that was her first kill, the man who had set on her and the other girl with a lust that would tolerate no rejection.

No, that scared girl was gone, she looked back at the strong and powerful woman and wondered how much time left she had as an acolyte, she was Sith now and she knew her future would only give her more and more power. She smiled, she was where she needed to be. She placed her bloody finger on the mirror and dragged it in a heart shape before writing below it.

"I love you all"

Annika turned her back to the mirror and took out her device, checking her filters and then snapping the shot. It came out beautifully. She was not scared any more, but she still Anni-K. She slipped the device into her top and went to work.

........

Darth Nefaron was a grisly looking creature, and his very presence made the room feel darker. Annika looked at him and nodded politely. "Darth Nefaron, I am Acolyte Starfire, I've come to see how our approaches might compliment each other."

She looked at the mandalorian, she could feel his emotions, stoic and stable due to his training. She couldn't possibly crack him where the darth was struggling could she? She looked for chinks in his armour as she walked around him. He caught sight of her and his eyes followed her too, a little ripple in his undefended surface emotions followed too, perhaps relief, perhaps curiosity at what this new arrival might entail... no... it was.. "I think he recognises me, I can't feel where or why, but I just get a feeling I am triggering some form of recognition in his mind.

Hmmm, have we met mandalorian? No.... maybe you've seen me on the holonet?" she placed her fingers on her chin and tapped them a few times, still trying to figure out his emotional state. Her research brief was that Nefaron was a master of fear, was there another crack in the door that they could exoloit?

 

[Vestara VII]

Location: Bathroom -> Interrogation Chamber
Objective: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
Dialogue Legend: “Galactic Basic” │ <“ur-Kittât”>
Equipment and Attire: Healer’s Outfit │ Electro-Whip │ CS MicroLab 06B │ PT-C 'Penitent' Control Collar w/ Incorporated G1 OmniLink │ IT-0 Interrogator │ Multiple Vials of Supernal Infusion, Mgehye ot Lloig, Devaronian Blood-Poison, and Paralysis Toxin
Tag: Annika Starfire Darth Nefaron

The day had been one interrogation after another for Vestara, most of which had seen her mending broken bodies so that they might suffer anew, administering various poisons and toxins, and even providing comfort—all part of an array of complex psychological tactics designed to optimize the extraction of information from uncooperative prisoners. Thus far, the efforts of Darth Nefaron’s interrogators had been largely successful in yielding fresh, usable information. However, in spite of the valuable intelligence that had already been accrued, the questioning of Hal Holt—an ex-Mandalorian Supercommando—would be far the most important. Without access to the thousand secrets that lay within the Mandalorian’s mind, almost none of the information that had already been acquired from other prisoners would be of much use.

As she finished cleaning herself up after the last interrogation, Vestara watched with a wide, yet slightly uneasy gaze as Annika Starfire painted the mirror with blood. The healer recognized the blood instantly, from the previous interrogation. It had belonged to a particularly resilient Zabrak Mandalorian who had demanded quite a bit more brute force than a typical subject due to his high pain tolerance. That particular interrogation had been a failure, with the Zabrak suffering so much blood loss that he had passed out, forcing a premature end to the questioning.

With that failure still fresh in her mind, Vestara murmured a short prayer to the Eternal Father in guttural ur-Kittât as Annika snapped her selfie. Had there been more time, the healer would have done more, but her brief invocation would have to suffice.

Regardless, Vestara did not intend for this interrogation to end like the last.

A heavy, stifling aura of darkness surrounded the twisted, shrouded form of the Lord of Terror. He was a man broken and malformed at a fundamental, metaphysical level, to such an extent that Vestara sensed that his malformities were likely beyond even her ability to mend. Nevertheless, the strand-cast gave him the proper respect as befitting a powerful Sith Lord—a deferential bow and a polite manner.

“My Lord, I am called Acolyte Vestara.” The healer introduced herself, before looking to the Mandalorian as Annika walked around him. As a healer, her role in interrogations was chiefly the prolonging of pain. There were few Sith who possessed her skillset and fewer still who truly specialized in it as she had. It made her somewhat valuable in this context—a useful foil to that could compensate for any excesses or mistakes.

Nevertheless, unless otherwise asked, Vestara would allow the others to guide the procedure while she monitored the health of the prisoner.

 

[Talon Vosra]

"The Sith won't stop, General," the aging former admiral said as they stood, heads together leaning over a glowing star map. Blue light underlit their grim faces as they poured over options.

"I'm well aware of what the sith will and won't do, old friend." The Zelosian Jedi said as he worked through escape routes for his people, "I was one once, unless you've forgotten Metallorn so quickly and the angry young man that spent a month of hyperspace in your brig."

"I remember, and you're still has stubborn as you ever were." The Kel Dor replied, "We need to evacuate, they're too close we've already lost all of our plants."

"We...can't evacuate. You and our people need to fall back to our safe houses delta 3 through zeta 4 and ensure we have a good mix for each cell. We have one more operative that is going to need to be handled before she's burned. And she's too valuable to lose."

"We need you, Talon." He said, "You've been at the head of this resistance for the last thirty years!"

"And if I'm the only thing driving it then we were doomed before we even started." He replied calmly and put a hand on the Kel Dor's shoulder. "Follow the orders and trust in the force, I'll see you on Terminus to re group."

"Yes, General." The man said, holding fast to an old title he hadn't used in decades.

The Kel Dor marched from the small duracrete room and Vosra picked up an old wooden case from beneath the table. He blew the dust from the top and watched a moment as the dust danced in the blue glow of the star map.

Click.

He opened the case and removed a pair of smooth metalic cylinders. And clipped one to his utility belt. He reached down and disconnected the data stick from the holo table bathing the room in darkness.

Snap hisssss

Yellow light sprung to life from the remaining lightsaber in his hand.

"One more time old friend." He said to the empty room before turning to go cover for his last operative among the hoard.

Darth Empyrean

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 3: TRAYZE'S DUTY

---

CURRENT MISSION - Assemble a Squadron...
Immediate Goals -
1: Ascertain persons of interest

BLUFOR - Unknown

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Relevant Sith Allies

---

Trayze fancied himself a "man of the people" - being born and raised among Bantha herders, and had, for the most part, presented himself as a "mere" captain. Knight or no, he preferred that his service to the Empire and her people be done through deeds rather than pontification in the Assembly, and for the beleaguered people of Kathol, he had his purpose.

Xeykard was the scythe that sundered and swept aside the worst and mightiest elements of the resistance, and the one who Trayze had respected despite his clear disdain to the Kiffar. He trusted him and his open disdain more than Darth Nefaron , despite his usefulness as an interrogator. While it was under his intel that Trayze and his associates operated to rip out the remaining roots of the Resistance, Trayze, as well as his benefactor and lordly-cousin, Darth Malum of House Marr , had wanted to present themselves benevolently. After all, if the people live well, rebellion would be childish.

But that will come later, his mind's eye lingering on the "yet to bes" while stretching his aura across the breadth of the field, sampling the intel that was given to him as he wordlessly pieced together on the holotable a stratagem that his ad hoc "SWAT" team would use. Their mission, raid a warehouse of munitions that the Resistance would utilize for their operations.

"You... you want to wait until anyone else arrives?" one lieutenant, a man who volunteered for this mission. It was important that some of the locals were on side, and would partake in some of these raids, to sew loyalty to the Order in its common citizenry. Trayze took a moment to open the bloody-burgundy irises, blinking away the mental fog that hazed his mind as he pieced together the mission.

"Not like that there will be more." a surlier soldier sneered. "All who can fight are with Xeykard. Fighting alongside us? That's not good enough for the other two Triumvirs."

Trayze Tesar kept his piece, allowing the tendrils of his aura to linger on the ready-room, and those that may lay beyond.

 

[Xeykard]

Talon Vosra | Objective I​

Most of the campaign had been swift executions. His forces, already accustomed to smaller-unit tactics, became more accustomed to these deployments under his watchful eye. Loathe as he was to admit it, both Nefaron and Tesar were effective and useful. Xeykard could not be everywhere at once. The screams coming from Nefaron's laboratories had provided them with actionable intel, whilst Tesar's careful movements widened the openings found by the other Sith.

In truth, he could not complain. While they did necessary and important work, they still lurked in the shadows, while the blaze of battle kept Xeykard illuminated. It was strange, being observed in this political way, but it was what he'd sought. Or, what had been sought for him.

The fighting thus far had been smooth. The Emperor's legion was as deadly as promised; so loyal were they that they threw themselves at any task Xeykard pointed to, dying and returning as many times as it took to take whatever hill they needed. These were not his men -- he could be more liberal in their deployments. Yet, these were no fodder; they reliably overcame difficult odds, situations that Xeykard hesitated to send his own men into.

He kept their deployments deliberate, cutting a swathe through the rebel cells all the way down the Run. Now he was inches away from triumph; the asteroid where key rebel depots were holed up, as well as much of the resistance's leadership. And not just any leadership -- Jedi.

Landing ships swarmed every pad, inserting legionnaires both the Emperor's and his own. His troops took the main hangar, blaster fire erupting as they made contact. He put his worries about the signals and comms chatter to rest; his focus was brought close once more. As he set foot in the rebel base, his presence exploded outwards, a roaring challenge for the Jedi and his students.

"Find Vosra."

The crown was here, ripe for the taking.

 

[Von-Kri]

Objective 1​

Tag: Xeykard // Talon Vosra​

​

He had witnessed the Emperor's forces deployed on a number of occasion, even before they were the Emperor's legion. Back during the warlord state following Odavessa, Von-Kri had witnessed the brutal efficiency of all the Sith Lord's forces, against Jedi and against eachother. It was always an interesting view to witness such zealous forces fighting, dying, and fighting again as priests rose them to serve the Order even in death. Morbid, on some level, but the scriptures they followed spoke that it was the highest honor.​

​

Von-Kri coughed into his arm as the disease in his body racked him in pain. He was used to it, spent months and years channeling that pain into power he could hold onto - but that didn't mean he didn't feel terrible doing it. Sickness had enveloped him in its entirety for as long as he could remember, and only the power of the Dark Side kept it from consuming him outright. Twisting, pushing, ensuring it could never destroy any singular part of him at once.​

​

Following the temporary Legate Xeykard, Von-Kri followed him down the landing ramp into a ship overrun with rebel forces - most of which now lay dead as the combined strength of their forces pushed deeper into the base. He looked to Xeykard as he gave his command. Find Vosra. The unsaid part was most likely killing the Jedi - but Von-Kri held no illusions it would be him taking the man's life.​

​

He simply didn't have the fortitude. So he restrained another cough as he looked towards the vents and life support systems.​

​

"Legate - if I may. I'm a virologist under the employ of Taeli Raaf . Were I able, I could deploy one of the diseases in the life support system with minimal casualities to our own forces. I abide by your command in all things, however.", he said, bowing his head slightly. To be given command of this operation to this extent was clear enough of a warning to him that Xeykard was nothing to play at. Challenging his order, or testing it, would likely see him killed if not by the Legate standing, but another Sith that backed them.​

​

Politics ran deep in the Order, and Von-Kri had no intentions of falling into a clearly labelled spike trap.​

 

[Diodoros]

Location - Little Minos Run Hyperlane
Objective: 1 (Kinda)

​

Diodoros had been a bit preoccupied lately with other matters within the outer rim. Mainly with what was happening on Tund. So he was a bit late and ignorant to the conflict in this part of space. But he’d heard that there were pirates causing the Sith some trouble. The man saw this as a golden opportunity for him to test his metal against others in the same profession as himself. Maybe if he got to go toe to toe with some pirates, he’d be able to prove that he wasn’t just some lousy upstart piggybacking of the power of The Sith.

Currently Diodoros’s plan was working and it was quite simple. Pirates loved picking on easy targets. He sought to use that to his advantage. Despite captaining a warship, it was very dated and better easy to commandeer it for themselves and envelop it into their own forces. Add in a distress call and he looked like easy prey for the opportunists here in the hyperlane…

. . .​

Things went poorly. Very Very poorly, for the pirates that had decided to commandeer Diodoros’s ship. Like moths to a flame they came and docked with his ship, only to find out that it’s crew and captain were not weary Sith officers retreating from a prior engagement.

After realizing they’d been baited they tried to make a hasty escape. Rushing through corridors to get back to their own ship and undock. All the while Diodoros was eagerly chasing them down back to their own vessel. Leaving some of their own behind in the panic to fall victim to the golden privateer’s gleeful wrath and the screeching of his mechanical weapon.

Fearing that they couldn’t waste another second they closed the hatch between the two ships to try and disconnect them and abandon the boarding action. But it was too late…

The metallic scream of scraping metal pierced the air as the hatch connecting the ships. Now compromised as the rotating blades of a large vibrosaw began to cut through. Automatic safety mechanism kept the retreating crew from detaching since if they did it would jettison them and their air out into the vacuum of space. They could no longer retreat.

They scrambled away from the hatch in fear as the large saw blade began to cleave through the metal. Once it was weakened enough Diodoros managed to bash through with his body. After the golden giant stepped into their ship flashed his enemies a cocky grin. In his hand he still held the puttering vibro-saw that he just used to board their ship. Behind him members of his own crew readied themselves to rush into and take the ship in this “country-boarding” operation of theirs.​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Objective II: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
​

Deep within the hull of a modified Marr-class Star Destroyer, Darth Nefaron had already taken to his bloody work. Already an old vessel, this particular ship was more lab than a warship, most of the vessel had been gutted and replaced with various labs, and whole decks were dedicated to the storage of creatures, sentient or otherwise, that the Lord of Terror could use to his heart's content. Droids of all varieties moved about the ship, the only living creatures outside of the prisoners were the Sith Lord and members of the Emperor’s Legion, only a token force as the rest had been given to his fellow triumvir Xeykard as a token of goodwill. As for Trayze Tesar , Nefaron had little interest in one of Darth Malum's dogs. Plans were in motion, this campaign was only the start of a grand design that had been long in the making.

But that was the future. For the time being, he would honor his role in the triumvirate and had already done so for his allies. It would have been so wonderful to use those captured during the campaign as test subjects for his latest toxin, but they had a greater purpose than to have their minds broken. Nefaron played the fool, drawing from the captives whatever small bit of information they would offer up and in return, he would clumsily let spill secrets of his own, battleplans that the enemies of the Sith might use to slow the ever-advancing tide of darkness. In reality, those who were allowed to flee brought what little pockets of resistance remained out of hiding for his fellow triumvirs to destroy, though of course, Xeykard had seen far greater success in this regard. But this new subject was different, he would never see the outside of the Sith vessel again, instead, he was to be broken, to have his mind opened and all his secrets examined.

Mandalorians were strong and capable creatures, forged in war from the moment they could form a fist with their hand. Their mind, much like their body, was a fortress few could ever crack. Hal Holt, formerly a super-commando, was a challenge that Nefaron was more than happy to take on, simply for his own personal enjoyment. Whatever was in the man's head was simply a bonus, perhaps he would be far more useful than anyone could imagine.

"Twelve hours, nineteen minutes, thirty-five seconds"

Nefaron spoke, as if to no one at all. Within the sealed chamber, the Dark Lord monitored his charge as he remained firmly restrained, the mechanical table raised as if the man were standing up, though of course his arms and feet were bound so firmly that any movement was futile. To the Mandalorian's credit, he made no comment to the walking corpse before him. He simply stared ahead, unflinching, even as several new needles and tubes pierced his skin. For now, they did nothing but monitor his vital signs as Nefaron continued his work.

"Twelve hours, nineteen minutes, thirty-five seconds. You have been restrained here, and yet you haven't spoken a word. It's quite remarkable, even in the face of inevitable suffering you choose to say nothing that might save yourself from what is coming."

Again, not a word passed the man's lips, even as Nefaron moved away from his console and stood before him. Though his face was a broken patchwork of dead skin, what little remained seemed to have formed a slight smile. Nefaron enjoyed the challenge, he had done nothing to the man besides ensure he was restrained. Toxin was available, no one could resist a concentrated dose in these conditions but that was simply too easy. Besides, a broken mind was one that was difficult to pry secrets from, the babbling fools in the lower decks were prime examples of what happened to prolonged toxin exposure. Instead, Nefaron was eager to see the work of others who knew the arts of pain and fear.

The vessel had served as a testing ground for many new acolytes, those who sought to use their power to explore the secrets found in mind and flesh. Two such candidates stood out to Nefaron, two whom he sought to offer an opportunity.

Nefaron turned, welcoming the first of the Acolytes into the chamber with what might amount to a smile for one such as him.

"Welcome, Acolyte. Your eagerness is oh-so infectious, though our guest appears to be rather displeased by our hospitality."

The Dark Lord took a step back, watching as the Acolyte set to work, attempting to find some loose thread that might be of some use. Though the Mandalorian remained silent, it appeared as if the introduction of one such as Acolyte Starfire roused within him some emotion that Nefaron's rather unsettling visage failed to draw out. He approached the pair, standing at the Acolyte's side as she pondered a potential connection between the pair, though he had an alternative theory that played off the strand of emotion that she recognized. Reaching out, his pale hand forcibly turned the Mandaloran's head so that he might again look upon the Acolyte. Though he resisted at first, there was little hope in avoiding the inevitable.

"Perhaps he does not recognize you directly. The Acolyte is rather beautiful, wouldn't you agree Hal? Perhaps she reminds you of someone... special? A wife? A lover?"

For just a moment, the Mandalorian let his mental defense fall. He reacted, rage and loss slipping through before he clamped down on his own mind, ending with him unsuccessfully spitting at the Acolyte. The Corpse Lord chuckled, lowering his hand as he looked to his companion.

"It seems we struck a nerve. Already we see results from your interaction, what more might we draw out in time?"

Before the true fun could begin, another Acolyte entered the chamber, though this one possessed an entirely different set of skills. To heal was an art, but for one to do so solely to ensure further suffering? Nefaron had immense respect for such a being. He met the respectful strand-cast as she entered the chamber, one of his hands gesturing to the console that connected to the various monitors and tubes that ran into the Mandalorian.

"Welcome, Acolyte Vestara. We will have need of your skills momentarily. We have found our thread, and now we must follow it to its source. While simple pain may yield results, I believe it is time to test my latest toxin. Only a small amount, enough to ease his mind allows us to explore just what lingers in that fortified mind."

With a wave of his hand, the machines activated and a small amount of a dark orange liquid entered into the Mandalorian's bloodstream, the initial pained expression on his face soon turned into actual speech, a good sign to be sure.

"T-This is all you have!? You'd be better off k-killing me because you won't ge-t anything from me!"

TAGS: Annika Starfire Vestara VII ​

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Ready Room
Objective: Trayze’s Duty
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Trayze Tesar

CI-6660 stepped into the ready room right in the midst of the ongoing conversation between one of the lieutenants and a soldier, drawing the glances of both men as they took in the short-statured, elfin figure who had arrived mere minutes before the raid was set to begin. While the half-mask on the Cipher Agent’s face concealed most of her features, her eyes—luminescent and piercing in their intensity—swiftly swept across the room. Then, her gaze narrowed as she took in the projection on the holotable, before committing its details to her augmented memory in a flash of a second.

“Captain Tesar.” CI-6660 acknowledged the triumvir with the appropriate respect, though she reframed from a full formal greeting. The Aetharian knew that his reputation as a “man of the people” was carefully constructed, so she took extra care to not do anything that would compromise it.

“I apologize for my tardiness.” 666 continued, in spite of the fact that she had arrived just as planned. “All of my preparations for the raid are complete.” She continued. “Is there anyone else who has yet to arrive, or are we set to commence the operation?”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• EP-7 Elemental Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Combination Power Cell, CryoBan Cell, and Fuel Cell Pre-Charged Magazine (4)

 

[Vestara VII]

Location: Interrogation Chamber
Objective: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
Dialogue Legend: “Galactic Basic” │ <“ur-Kittât”>
Equipment and Attire: Healer’s Outfit │ Electro-Whip │ CS MicroLab 06B │ PT-C 'Penitent' Control Collar w/ Incorporated G1 OmniLink │ IT-0 Interrogator │ Multiple Vials of Supernal Infusion, Mgehye ot Lloig, Devaronian Blood-Poison, and Paralysis Toxin
Tag: Annika Starfire Darth Nefaron

Vestara quickly set to work, first reviewing the prisoner’s vital signs (which were in the normal range for a man subject to prolonged torture) and assessing his physical status. Once that was done, the healer monitored the “patient” as the toxin was injected into his bloodstream.

The Mind Breaker.

Vestara had, of course, done her research on the Lord of Terror's newest, most potent toxin prior to her arrival. She had read his papers on it (or any that had been made available to her) and she had reviewed any applicable data. Accordingly, the healer quickly recognized the prisoner’s initial responses to the drug and thereby, deduced that his body was handling it as anticipated.

“The drug is taking effect as expected, my Lord.” Vestara reported, as she quickly charted down her observations in her OmniLink. All the while, the healer began to open herself to the currents of the ex-Supercommando’s emotions—defiance, determination, and…

There. A small hint of rising fear.

"T-This is all you have!? You'd be better off k-killing me because you won't ge-t anything from me!"

“You wish for us to kill you, is that correct, Moridinazid?” Vestara asked, as she placed a small, delicate hand on the Mandalorian’s arm—a cruel mimicry of the techniques of therapeutic communications. “Can you talk to me about that? What is it that makes you desire such a thing?” The healer continued, her voice a gentle purr as the words left her lips.

 

[Annika Starfire]

Location: interrogarion chamber
Objective: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
Tags: Darth Nefaron Vestara VII
Gear: in bio

Wearing: this but with her hat

Annika listened to the Sith Master, discussing his pain discussing his time under the interrogation, manipulating his fear, trying to break him. The Mandalorian was strong, he was holding out against the pain and against the fear that he was enduring.

"Perhaps he does not recognize you directly. The Acolyte is rather beautiful, wouldn't you agree Hal? Perhaps she reminds you of someone... special? A wife? A lover?"

”I think you are right? There is an affectionate recall when he sees my face.” she said as the other acolyte administered her own care. She looked at the woman's outfit and considered how his mood was affected, how he might perceive the voluptuous and soft spoken acolyte. ”I notice he doesn't respond in the same way to acolyte Vestara, so I don't think it's my… beauty.

May I?”

She walked closer to the Mandalorian who watched her closely, she approached closely to the man and whispered something breathlessly in his ear… no, nothing. She walked over to Vestara and asked her quietly. ”Mind Breaker makes people susceptible to hallucinations right, what is that word that mandalorians use for their parents, begins with a B I think?”

“Buir.” Vestara answered, her voice suddenly turning venomous as the word left her lips. The healer shuddered, already feeling gross at having spoken just a single phrase of such a savage language. Nevertheless, the Hapan quickly collected herself and offered the Moridinazid a gentle smile in turn.

”Thank you.”

She turned back to the mandalorian and approached a little closer, keeping her outstretched arm on Vestara's table.

She dropped her voice a little ”Buir… what's happening?” his heart spiked and Annika felt his emotions changing, a grin appeared on her face as she felt him panicking. ”Buir… who are these people, what are they doing to us… help me buir.”

She turned just slightly towards Vestara and spoke in ur-kittat ~~”Give me something nasty, something no parent wants to see… but don't kill me yeah.”~~ What was she doing, her vanity and her pride for finding this link was intoxicating her, she might regret this.

Vestara’s eyes widened with surprise as turned to her fellow acolyte, doing so in such a way that her face was hidden from the prisoner. A flicker of doubt seized her awareness as she processed Annika’s request. Nevertheless, the healer quickly registered the confident, ruthless glint in the half-Zeltron’s purple-hued gaze. She wanted this. Needed it, in fact, in order for her plan to work.

“Blood poison.” Vestara whispered softly in Annika’s ear, spoken as a warning. Then, the healer turned towards the Moridinazid with a wicked smile struck across her pale features, before drawing a small dose of blood-poison from one of her vials.

“Do you know what is inside this needle, Moridinazid?” The healer began in a soft, yet icy tone. “Do you know what it will do to your ad, when I deliver the injection into her body?” She continued. “You don’t need me to tell you, do you?”

Then, a pause.

“Maybe it will help if I show you, instead.”

Suddenly, Vestara punched the needle into Annika’s upper arm and injected its contents into the body of her fellow Acolyte.

"NOO!! Manda NO!"

He called out at the two acolytes as Annika winced, her face turning white as she screeched in pain herself "BUIR!!... IT HURTS.... SO MUCH!!" she struggled to get out, almost sick with the pain as it coursed through her blood. He looked at Vestara, then looked at Nefaron, pure terror in his eyes. Annika would be loving the affect she was having if she didn't wish she could die right now. She looked as Vestara with a look that could kill a lesser person. But it was what she had asked for in every sense of the word, the pain the power, the passion.

Thank you Vestara VII for help with the post

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Objective 1 //:
//: Enemies //: Xeykard //: Von-Kri //:
//: Allies //: Talon Vosra //:

Being a part of the Assembly meeting, Allyson had been given a heads-up about the Sith's desire to wipe out the Kathol Outback. She had to move quickly and quietly so that the Sith Order didn't find it strange that an assembly member had not been appointed to this triumvirate mission. Allyson slipped through a group and removed the Sith mask from her face. She would never get used to the view of the blue skin fading to her own lighter tone.

Crouching, Allyson hid behind a few large crates and barrels as she tapped into a comms network. She knew some people were being evacuated; she had already caught that message- but an operative was left. Cursing under her breath, Allyson did her best to navigate through the coded communications to try and figure out where he was located. Like her, this operative had been in this region for a long time - he was considered disposable. Allyson knew she shouldn't be here and should have taken the information she collected from the Assembly home - but she couldn't. Something in her core wanted to make sure Talon escaped.

Talon's comms were silent. It meant he was either dead or he was done communicating and had decided to make his last stand. Feth. She felt the panic as she pulled the Force over her. Disappearing from view, the Force Cloak shrouded the woman, and she moved quickly until she found another cluster of shadows to hide in. A hand reached up to her ear as she tapped into an old line that was only known to those who had ties with the original Alliance and the Silver Jedi. Talon had once worked with her, which had given him access to the secret line.

<Talon> Allyson started, her voice hushed into the comm device. <What are your coordinates? I'm here to extract you. I'm not leaving here without you.>


No shadow left behind.

 

[Talon Vosra]

He stalked through the tunnels leading from the hidden war room. His bare feet shushing silently over the polished duracrete floor. The tunnels were dark and that meant Vosra as a zelosian was completely blind. A downside of his botanical biology. But he knew these tunnels like he knew many of his people would be well on their way out of the sector.

He wrapped himself in light as he neared a junction, the disciples of twilight may not have been a large group but they had taught him well many years ago, and his ability to bend the light around himself and form a cloak of shadows was impeccable. He paused to let a cleaning droid disappear down a tunnel, right on time, and quickly crossed the space when his ear piece vibrated.

<Talon> Allyson started, her voice hushed into the comm device. <What are your coordinates? I'm here to extract you. I'm not leaving here without you.>

"Lockett Sockett?" He asked using a name he usually only said about her when she was far away but she was the last person he thought would be in range, "Not this time. I left a holocron with Svora and we need our last person extracted. It's more important than me."


He ducked into an alcove.

"Besides have you seen what all this dark does to my skin?" He tried to joke, to ease the tension. They both knew he wasn't leaving here alive. Not this time. "All wrinkles and chit."

However, he wanted his mission completed if he didn't make it. So...he lied.

"Storage bunker 16 has a false floor." He knew the operative would go there, "I'll tuck inside."

He closed the channel and made for the main tunnels.

Sorry, kid.

 

[Xeykard]

Von-Kri Allyson Locke Talon Vosra ​

"No," he said, glaring at the virologist. It wasn't that the acolyte's method was poor; if anything, time spent in contact with Darth Nefaron had warmed Xeykard to the use of chemical and biological warfare. But now was not the time -- if by some stroke of poor luck, Vosra was killed by some lowly acolyte and not Xeykard himself, the lost glory and influence would be significant, even if it was at his order.

"You may clear the storage rooms. Flush out the deeper parts of the base -- but the main corridor is this one's." He waved a hand, dismissing the diseased man.

The other benefit of not having anything airborne flooding the base was he did not need to neuter his sense of smell. As he led his forces into the asteroid's tunnels, the light scent of something... floral... wafted towards him. This was a barren rock.

"Vosra," he said, moments before the Jedi came into view. The main tunnel was relatively broad, wide enough for Xeykard to move comfortably in -- though, not quite tall enough for his liking.

He raised his saber and ignited it, the long blade stretching out in front of him. His men stood back, or took other routes.

"Your resistance comes to an end. Come and die." Xeykard drew his energy inwards, then charged forward.

 

[Talon Vosra]

He stopped in the center of the tunnel, bright green eyes alive with a dozen thoughts as he heard the heavy confident steps and voices of his would be pursuers. Sith, liked their pecking orders, like school kids with laser swords, but less inclined to think that they were definitely on bottom. He dropped his cloak, his operative should be well on their way to the extraction point by now and through a twist of fate, so was Allyson Locke .

The Sith rounded the corner and positioned themselves in his path and immediately began talking. Talon like to talk too, he wouldn't postulate anything else but if the sith weren't either doing their make up or darth angst cosplay, they were talking.

"Did you write that down just in case we met in a random hallway or practice it in a mirror for a while?" He said already letting the force move through him, "Because it was really good. I mean it. Very menacing."

He activated his light saber, just the one for now, and began closing the gap, then he did the second dumbest thing he could think of and sped up. The gap was closed in fractions of a second as he brought his glowing yellow blade across in front of himself painting a horizontal line in the air aimed at the lightsaber hilt of Xeykard in a vain but honest attempt to spare his life.

 

[Von-Kri]

Objective 1​

Tag: Xeykard // Talon Vosra // Allyson Locke​

​

Von-Kri offered no resistance to the dismissal, he simply nodded and stifled a knotting cough forming in his chest. Only when Xeykard turned away, moved towards the main tunnel, did he let out his withheld irritation in the form of a wet, phlegm lined exasperation. When he covered his mouth to stifle the cough, it was covered in splatterings of blood, forcing him to look upon it for a debilitating second before wiping it off on his long-coat.​

​

A servant seemed to appear out of nowhere as he turned towards the storage rooms;​

​

"Is all well, m'lord?", he asked.​

​

It was common practice for all Sith in the Empire to be treated as royalty, even if Von-Kri was nothing exceptional by any measure nor did he have the wealth to afford such a being. Servants to Sith were often those zealous enough to work without pay, sacrificing liberty for the rewarding work of serving the tide-breakers, fate-deniers. Von-Kri looked at the man and simply shook his head;​

​

"The Legate has asked us to clear the storage rooms. We will do that, and only that. Collect Squad's 3F through 4B.", he said, motioning for the secondary and auxillery units to join him. He seemed to hunch, if not deflate as he moved towards the side passage, annoyed that he was sent away but accepting he had no power to fight against it.​

​

A petulant move would be to release a disease anyway, let Xeykard and the rest suffer just the same; but he knew that unless he truly wiped out their forces altogether, it would mean nothing. Fear kept him in line, in that regard, a Sith with less sense and more passion might've let the consideration become reality. For him, it would be nothing more than a death sentence.​

​

So he moved towards the storage rooms, as he was ordered. Like a good Sith did.​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

Objective II: The Terror of Darth Nefaron
​

Nefaron was more than happy to step back and allow the acolytes to take the lead. It did bring him great joy to see the youth of the Sith explore their more creative side, though he wasn't entirely convinced the women shared his views for a galaxy consumed by fear. This was a means to an end to them, not a beautiful display of terror that was to be cherished, held up as a prime example of what every being in the galaxy should experience. Perhaps they would understand once this was done, but a quick peek into their minds showed otherwise. Still, seeing them work was a nice change of pace.

Silently, Nefaron watched from the shadows as the Mandalorian was revealed to be a loving father, a rather common weakness shared by trillions in the galaxy, so this was but a prelude to what was coming to every world, every nation, every single living creature that could experience fear. As Hal unraveled, a rather interesting course of events began as the acolytes, seemingly of one mind, decided to play into the man's delusions and show him "child" suffering as he did, a poison coursing through her veins as he was powerless to do anything but watch her suffer. A horrid smile appeared on Nefarons face as he stepped from the shadows, delivering a mental command to Vestara.

"Do nothing, let her suffering continue a bit longer. Your choice of poison was masterful."

As this command passed from his mind to her's the Dark Lord approached the bound Mandalorian, hovering at his side so that he may whisper in his ear, very much the devil on his shoulder guiding him to his child's relief and the deaths of all those who he led into Sith space.

"Look at her suffering, Hal. She will die if you don't help... you have followers, men and women who are willing to die for you. You must tell her how to reach them, they can end her suffering, you can save her!"

The Mandalorian seemed confused, terror spreading over him as he desperately attempted to grasp reality from his jumbled mind. Part of him wanted to resist, but in his heart, he could not bear to see his child suffering a moment longer.

"Save her... tell her where to go... tell her everything."

TAGS: Annika Starfire Vestara VII ​

 

[Dresden]

Location: Approaching Trayze Tesar 's position
Objective: Trayze's Duty
Equipment: In Bio
Tags: Open
Status: Hired

A sinking feeling stirred within Dresden. His heart rate increased as he kept a calm composure on the surface, his face holding an expression of confidence, unbothered by the internal conflict boiling up within his skull. Beneath his right arm he carried his helmet, observing the locals before him as they looked back, their eyes holding a specific wonder and slight unease. He knew what he was doing, he knew it was wrong, or so he felt.

This was another job. Another culture being absorbed into the sphere of Sith influence, another stake in their claim across the stars. There was a necessary evil to be done sometimes, a cruelty and indifference required to face the cold reality of achieving a future that cannot exist otherwise. This was one that called for blood, sacrifice, and determination. He refused to die being careful.

Upon arriving at the coordinates provided, Dresden approached wordlessly, his gaze scanning around as he gave a brief but respectful nod. He cleared his throat. "I'm assuming this is the place? Seems fitting enough." He attempted to appear casual, informality suiting him more naturally than trying at being a proper soldier.

None of these people before him would know he hated them, or what they stood for. Under the banner of madmen and elitists that prey upon the vulnerable. Today he'd be helping to dispose of munitions - weapons to help fight against the Sith and their agenda, soon to be wiped away and forgotten. What was a ripple to an ocean? This was a small price to pay for Dresden's moral values, another night he'll sleep away as credits line his pockets.

Everything has a price.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Another red lightsabre entered the fray, its ignition almost instantaneous as out of seemingly nothing, a masked figure appeared, cloak and stealth abandoned, as standing parallel to the two charging figures, in the last second before their dramatic battle could take place, his blade extended, pushing with all his strength and speed to parry away the Jedi's attack, preparing to sidestep out of the way of the charging Barabel.

His posture revealed little, as he shifted guard, blade pointing in the direction of the Jedi, his mask revealed even less, apart from of course, that it was a replica of the great Darth Marr's.

"My apologies, Lord Xeykard ," A modulated voice spoke through the mask in the centre of the room, facing his opponent, eyes no doubt tracking every movement, every motion, careful, and cautious, "The higher powers believe you too valuable to risk against one looking to kill himself, while you no doubt need no assistance, it has come regardless, you are a man of utility, you would not throw away advantage for pride, I hope."

He did not wait for an answer, as with the speed rivalling his Mistress, the great Darth Ophidia, he charged after the Jedi, blade extended, aiming to cut the man's head straight off, end this as soon as he could, and then escape into the shadows, cut the head of the snake, and put an end to this resistance.

His words were not entirely false, Malum viewed Xeykard with great importance, too much to let him fall to one as infamous as Talon Vosra, and though he could not help Trayze Tesar directly upon the campaign he had set out on.

No matter what, the Kathol Resistance died today.

Von-Kri Allyson Locke