The Final Hammer Blow [TSE Dominion of Ession]

[Darth Carnifex]

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Ession.

The former capital of the Dominion, a government which had heretically tried to blend the teachings of the Light Side and the Dark Side in order to expand their influence across the Tingel Arm. Nestled in the Corporate Sector, Ession benefited greatly from its close proximity to the Hydian Way, its residents growing fat off of the lucrative trade that passed between the deep Corporate Sector and the distant Core Worlds.

This wealth had funded many anti-Imperial organizations throughout the centuries, allowing the ideologies of its leading aristocrats to proliferate through violent and subversive means.

After the fall of the Dominion, many expected Ession to receive the brunt of the Sith Empire’s cruelty thanks to their status as the Dominion’s capital. But puzzling nothing befell Ession, there were no war fleets and no crusading armies threatening to plunge the planet into desolation and ruin.

And so they had waited, growing bolder with each rotation as the Empire seemed content to ignore the industrial world as it gobbled up vast expanses of space beyond the Corporate Sector.

They grew bolder, they thought that they could again wrestle control of the Tingel Arm by funding new organizations, and even aiding the renegade Cedric Grayson with his terrorist activities.

They were wrong.

The Empire had never forgotten Ession, and they had never forgiven.

They had prolonged Ession’s judgment until the time was ripe to redirect their fury upon the corporate world, and the incident at Jaminere had refueled the Empire’s desire to see Ession burn.

Fleets pooled into the space above Ession, hundreds of warships blinking into existence as the Ession early warning sensors failed to properly alert the populace to the suddenly close Imperial threat. Saboteurs, many of them former members of the Dominion Peacekeepers, had purposefully engineered the alert system to shut down once it had received a special Imperial code transmitted from the Behemoth.

Several carriers had emerged from hyperspace dangerously close to the planet’s surface, right underneath the upper atmosphere. Dozens of starfighters, most noticeable Exodus-class Strategic Bombers, clouded the skies above population centers all across the planet. Without hesitation, and without mercy, they began to indiscriminately carpet bomb entire city blocks, atomizing buildings and their occupants in a gruesome display of high explosive carnage.

Only too late was the planetary defense shield raised to protect the capital city.

“They’ve raised the planetary shields, our fighters are trapped.”

Captain Godfris could feel the slightest trickle of perspiration running down his forehead, slipping between his eyes to nestle right on the tip of his nose. The humid tension in the air was uncomfortable, and he chafed as his officer’s dress clung to his body. In front of him was a three-dimensional representation of the planet Ession and the Imperial fleet as well as the Ession defense fleet, which had been caught with its pants around its ankles as the Imperial fleet exited hyperspace practically on top of it.

So far the Ession warships had been dismantled, their ruined hulls smoldering in between the Sith Star Destroyers. Now each of the one-point-eight and a half kilometer long warships began bombarding the outer surface of the planetary shield, though to no avail as their cannons weren’t powerful enough to penetrate.

“That shield is strong enough to deflect any bombardment, my Lord. It would take us hours…”

“It will not take hours, it will only take but a moment of preparation.”

“M-my lord?”

“Watch now.”

Reverting into realspace alongside the Behemoth was the equally as massive dreadnought, the Song of Truth. Though primarily delegated to supporting the other Imperial warships in battle, the Song did possess one weapon that the other hundreds of ships in the Imperial Armada did not.

Energy coursed through the bowels of the dreadnought, ionizing as it was passed through massive luxum crystals over and over again. Once the energy was thoroughly ionized, it was collected in a gargantuan weapon mounted on the Song’s hull and shortly after launched at high velocity towards the raised planetary shield. The ionic energies cascaded over the shield’s surface, destabilizing it long enough for more fighters to breach the gap and bombers already underneath the planetary shield to launch bombing runs on the dish arrays and power generators.

The effect was glorious, as it made it seem that one single blast from the Song was powerful enough to bring down an entire planetary shield.

“I am impressed, magister. You were telling the truth.” From elsewhere on the bridge appeared a group of Ession natives, men who had betrayed their planet, their colleagues, and the Dominion survivors who still called the world below their home in exchange for their lives and their estates. “As was agreed, you and your kin will be allowed to govern what remains of Ession… under direct Imperial oversight.”

The magister made a face, but it was quickly swept away as he bowed deeply before the Sith Emperor and scurried off to whisper amongst his fellow co-conspirators.

Carnifex looked to Captain Godfris, “Inform General [member="Kor Vexen"] to debark all troops for the ground assault, level the residential zones.”

Even as the Emperor spoke his command, the main annihilator cannon of the Behemoth unleashed a single destructive burst of energy that soared down through the clouds above Ession’s capital city, obliterating their central administrative building in one fell swoop.

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Objective I - Industrial Yards
The Empire has come to Ession for one singular purpose, to eradicate any traces of the Dominion still residing planet-side and take control of the planet’s vast industrial potential.

Thusly, the invasion has been divided into two parts.

One-half of the Empire’s martial forces will descend on the massive industrial yards that cover the planet’s surface and rid them of any obstructions that would impede their secession to the Empire. The integrity of the yards is vital and acts of random destruction will be frowned upon by the Emperor.

Objective II - Residential Areas
The Empire has come to Ession for one singular purpose, to eradicate any traces of the Dominion still residing planet-side and take control of the planet’s vast industrial potential.

Thusly, the invasion has been divided into two parts.

The people of Ession sided with our enemies in the past, and have continued to harbor anti-Imperialist elements long after the Dominion government collapsed. Now that we are in a position to secure the planet’s resources, the Emperor and his council have taken stock of the native inhabitants.

And found them expendable. Sweep the residential areas of the planet not atomized in the opening salvo, and exterminate any civilians and military personnel you find.

Objective III - Ession Freedom Front
Before the Graysons and before the Dominion, there had always existed an underground revolutionary group dedicated to keeping Ession clean of foreign influence for centuries.

The Ession Freedom Front.

Now that the Empire has come, and the Dominion remnants which had occupied the planet are on the backfoot, they’ve risen from the underground slums and back alley ghettos to wage a street war against both sides.

They need to be destroyed, lest they initiate a guerrilla war without end once we have secured control of the planet. Darth Ophidia and her Sith Assassins have been tasked by the Emperor to root out and execute the Freedom Front’s leadership.

Objective IV - BYOO

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Residential Areas, Ession​

Objective II​

Theme​

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Dirty work, that's what this was.

Vestille and his men had made quite the impression upon the Sith Empire, it seemed. After his trial by fire on Voss, his superiors saw fit to bring both Vestille and the men and woman behind him into the fold completely. The Sovereignty was a relic and a place of worth long since lost to history, save for the odd memento that was kept from their previous lives. Instead, they were fully embedded into the Sith Empire as both citizens and soldiers under its banner. They were no longer mercenaries, prowling the holonet for their next target and payoff. They now had a new home, new lives; ones that they could use to climb the ladder to greater glory and achieve what each man under the Gravewalkers secretly wanted; a place to belong. Vestille knew that more than any other, having come somewhat of a nomad when it came to galactic powers. His journey had taken him quite far, added titles, wealth and memories under his pristine belt... If only for the trade off for the torment that he suffered deep within his psyche; haunted by grief and misery that could never be allowed to surface or be revealed into the light of the public eye. The former Commander and Death Trooper before that could only do what he was indoctrinated to do; obey.

This, of course, left a gap the size of a gorge between him and his men in regards to morals and emotions. The now Captain of the newly formed 105th Imperial Shock Infantry had listened intently to the briefing and passed it along to his brothers in arms, to which some seemed hesitant to follow but ultimately obeyed. They were elite, a cut above the lower Imperial soldiers that had also been assigned to join the newly formed unit but even they had their limits. As the titan of a vessel opened fire on the planet below and the troops began to mobilize, Vestille knew all too well what path they were to follow. A callback to his origins, a sense of Pestilence on the tip of his tongue. Old job, new faces... Nevertheless orders were orders and they were to be carried through. As the 105th embarked on their shuttles and made way to the planet below, there was a silence that was more eerie than usual. Truth be told, it was probably the first time that many of those people on board had been sent on a mission where military targets and civilians targets were fair game. Some said their prayers, hoping that some higher entity would give them the strength to carry on. Some simply kept their reservations to themselves, knowing all too well what happened if they were to speak out of term. Perhaps, out of the entire unit, there was one individual that seemed to be fine with what they were about to do.

The Commander himself.

The transports made planet-fall rather quickly, unloading their troops alongside the various other Imperial elements that were delivered to the planet. As the civilians and military alike were scrambling no doubt thanks to the destruction of the admin building, they were quickly fell upon by the 105th and the supporting units. On Voss, the flamethrowers seemed incredibly effective and this was found to be true once again. Those clad in combat armor and carrying rifles to the common man or woman; the flames were like a sweeping tide. A cruel inferno of an introduction to who had landed and their purpose on Ession. It was no surprise that many of them scattered and ran for their hiding spots as the Sith troops rolled over them like a wave. This was no fight, this was an execution; a message to those who wished to defy the Sith Empire and try and raise themselves as upstarts against at titan of a military machine. With the landing zone secure, Vestille raised his hand and ordered his men to advance into the streets; every house was to be searched and every living thing was to be put to the sword.

Innocence, if it ever existed within the men of the 105th, died that day.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Dante Sotari"]

Sentients died by the thousands at once as residential district after district was targeted without mercy or scrutiny. Jairus felt it, even if those he was with did not. Grunts, legionnaire soldiers assigned to him by the Saaraishash in preparation for this mission.

For this little job.

Coruscant had been a success for him, but Ession would be equally good.

A single district, across the turning of the planet, had been spared the initial outburst of destruction. For the moment anyway. Instead... cultists descended down past the ramps of the ships that had carried them.

Their mission was simple.

Snatch, grab, acquire as many worthwile people as possible.

Dante and her people would ensure that the Sith wouldn't mistake them for enemies. "How does it feel being part of the Empire during moments like these, Lieutenant Sotari?" Jairus asked absently as they stood in the middle of a mall. His people were busy, shooting their stun guns, killing or incapacitating those they didn't need.

It was chaos.

Except for this little piece of peace around the Sith Lord next to a shattered fountain. "Quite a contrast to the expansion efforts that are... less destructive, no?"

 

[Dante Sotari]

The armored figure paused beside the towering Sith Lord. He wasn't the first Sith she had been tasked to accompany, and he wouldn't be the last. Her squad was fanned out in pairs around the square, though it was on this rare occasion an odd number. Her own usual partner, [member="Morgan Vance"], was on a different assignment for the Saaraishash today. She didn't know what, but then, neither did he know what hers had been. While they were both members of the Legion, they regularly received orders from outside of that chain. And when they did?

They didn't ask questions.

Reaching up, she pressed on a spot on her helmet, the view plate releasing and rising. She could have spoken through the helmet, of course, but for the moment, this was better.

"This isn't my first rodeo, Lord Starvald."

She hadn't been given his preferred address so she defaulted to safety on it.

"The Empire attempts to bring new planets into the fold through peaceful means when possible. Simple prudence. But some worlds are resistant. Ession... well. Recent history made it all but impossible to bring into the fold the way we usually prefer."

A pause and then-

"I'm a soldier, sir, this is what we do."

And yet....

Dante had been on Mirial. At Thyferra. She had seen the Empire at it's best... and at it's worst. There were no illusions when it came to who she worked for. But there was no casual comfort in this sort of slaughter. She was not horrified, no. But she was not immune either.

I could use a drink.

[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Placeholder 0128]

You must let go of everything you fear to lose.

There were few things Cedric felt any strong feelings toward anymore. The Sith had taken his family, his friends, and destroyed whatever desires for peace he might have held in his heart years ago. Their conquests had forged the boy into a weapon of the light, and his training with the order had helped him to purge himself of any attachments that might sway him from his duties.

But not Ession. Not his people.

A terrible darkness had gripped his heart for the past day or so. It was a lingering sense of foreboding, one that had called him home if only to make sure things were running smoothly. He had arrived to see the senate functioning as it always had, the people calm and at peace despite the encroaching advance of the Sith Empire.

And then that peace had been shattered.

A fleet of Sith warships made quick work of the Essonian PDF. Cedric's battle meditation had helped to harden their resolve, but the defense frigates were no match for imperial star destroyers. One by one, the Jedi Knight felt the lives of his people being snuffed out in the stars above.

The people had prepared for an invasion. Civilians were evacuated as best they could via the handful of blockade runners on the planet, and the rest were ushered quickly into underground shelters hidden throughout the planet's cities. Unfortunately for the inhabitants of Ession, that invasion never came: they were given a slaughter.

The knight was momentarily blinded as a beam of light fell from the sky. Thousands of lives were snuffed out in a matter of seconds; the tremors that reverberated throughout the force had sent Cedric to his knees.

"Lord Grayson, their armies have made landfall. They're not hitting our hard targets - they're going after the civilians," said one of the nearby soldiers. "I...I never expected them to do something like this."

"They're Sith. They don't have any sense of morality ensign - people like to say that evil does not truly exist, but they embody it," The knight replied automatically. The words that spilled from his lips came without thought, and were tinged with a pain greater than any caused by a physical wound.

Cedric watched from the Grand Temple's highest atrium as his city burned. Everything he had fought for, everything his family had died for, rendered naught but ash by a madman and his sycophants. "This is what they do," a foreign bitterness tinged the Jedi Knight's voice. "Ensign, gather what men you can and head to the residential districts. Getting everyone to safety is our top priority, and send a message to the other Jedi across the galaxy. They need to know what their inaction has caused."

He drew in a sharp breath, and rose to his feet.

"What are you going to do?" The ensign asked, dropping all pretense of rank and formality. The two sons of Ession were equal in the face of this tragedy.

Cedric finally tore his gaze from the destruction, and met the ensign's eyes. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he spoke, "I was born to protect you. All of you. I will do that until I can't any longer. We don't have any more time."

The ensign snapped off a salute, his lower lip quivering. "It's been an honor Lord Grayson."

Cedric could only nod, "Yes, it has. Now go."

The soldier did not speak another word. Cedric heard the door close behind him.

Alone now, the knight reached for the weapon at his side. The lightsaber felt comforting in his hand, its positive presence steeling Cedric's resolve.

"Are you afraid?" The voice was a whisper in the back of Cedric's mind.

"Of course I'm afraid," the knight rumbled with rueful laughter, "But fear isn't going to stop me."

"You'll die if you don't leave now Cedric. The alliance needs you." The apparition of his ancestor coalesced before him. Vicarion Grayson's specter regarded his progeny pitifully.

"Ession needs me more." Came the boy's reply. Vicarion parted his ethereal lips to speak, but a gesture of mental will banished him entirely.

"Okay," Cedric said to himself. "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this." He repeated as he turned toward the nearby elevator. The ride down was a silent one; an odd thing considering the massive destruction that ravaged everything around the temple. When it reached the ground floor, Cedric was not surprised to find the halls empty. The soldiers that had remained had already moved on toward the residential districts. He strode in silence toward the great doors, parted them, and walked calmly down the temple steps.

He was greeted by total chaos.

Without a word, the Blade of Ruusan came to life, its cyan blade shining in contrast to the violent hues of orange and red that now filled the skies. It shone like a beacon amidst all this death; a shining light that dared to stand against the certainty of total annihilation. It would crop up on the radar of every force sensitive in the city: the sole font of the Ashla left within Ession's capital city.

Sith soldiers turned their attentions toward the last knight of Ession. They had only seconds to register the Jedi's presence before they were cut down by the weapon, an entire squad decimated in a span of seconds. There Cedric remained standing above the corpses, a living challenge to the Sith's dominance of his homeworld.

Come and face judgement.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective II/IV - Clear the residential areas AND test subjects for certain genetic markers for later experiments

Well... who was she to argue with what the Dark Lord had decreed to happen to this world. The planet of Ession, and its people, had been supporting rebel and heretical factions for some time and now the bill had come due in the when the Emperor ordered the planet to be taken, its people exterminated. They were to finally find out what their support of the Dominion and the rebels would bring. Death and destruction for the lucky ones. For the unlucky ones... well they had a worse fate coming for the Lady of Secrets desired test subjects for a new project.

And what better place to obtain them than a planet slated for the Sith's wrath.

She had arrived in the first wave of the attack, before the planetary defenders had risen the shield, with a handpicked team of her personal operatives and Legion troopers. Their goal was simple. Capture as many of the population as they could, scan them for a certain genetic marker she was looking for. Those that had it would be tagged for bureaucratic purposes and then transported to a new lab she was establishing. Those that did not have the desired marker would be exterminated, their deaths and identities also logged with the Sith bureaucracy.

"Search the next building," she ordered. It had partially survived the initial bombardment by the bombers and ships in orbit, a perfect place to find injured civilians, civilians trying to help their friends from the rubble, and emergency/military personnel attempting to assist.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Ession | Industrial District ​

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One particular corporation's tower was close enough to the manufacturing section to avoid the worst of the bombing. As a result, its employees were fully able to evacuate into the Imperial troopers' gunfire.

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"Ession," the pale figure whispered atop the skyscraper, peering down at the panorama of smoke, of scattered, fleeing, squirming, dying insects, of panic and fire, of hell raining down from the sky. It was as he last saw it, at a certain slave's attack on the Dominion. He smiled warmly. It's rare to have the privilege of watching a world crumble and squirm and perish twice. He made a mental note to try to find whichever parts of the world that wretched Jedi Lord most liked, so he would know where to lay the foundations of his corporation's new facility here. "It's so good to see you again. Have you missed me?"

He was answered by the rapport of blaster fire raining down to melt the surface to slag. He glanced up at the towering fumes of sentient's ashes and shattered works, imagining them twisting into the spires of the city that they would raise in this place: great, dark, terrible. Lashed to another's ego, tragically, but he would have a hand in it. It would be beautiful.

Today, he wasn't going to be turning loose beasts. Too messy. Too inconvenient to clean up, which only means it's worthwhile if you aren't going to be moving in afterwards. Crossing his legs on his favorite hoverchair, wind catching silvery hair, black robes fluttering in the wind, he closed his eyes and unhinged his perception from his body, loosing his mind on Ession. Battle meditation, turned backwards - sowing strife, despair, confusion, conflict. His specialty.

He could feel each drop of it. When a comrade, heart racing, slicked with sweat, locked his hands around a fellow soldier's throat, screaming at shadows only he could see, squeezing until movement stopped, he felt his rage. When, seeing their home lit with fire, a cloud of despair moved a group of fleeing workers to simply stand and wait for a death that came quickly in a hail of plasma, he felt their sorrow. Eyes clawed out, voices screamed silent, disharmony.

"Peace was always a lie," he whispered, voice silken, "now wake up from you dream."

And, eyes bloodshot, flesh torn, they did.

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[Darth Bellum]

Kor Vexen

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Residential Areas, Ession
Sanitize the Residential Sector

Vexen stood aboard the command bridge of The Baal, a Ferrata Class Corps Assault Carrier that was the flagship of the Gehenna Fleet, an invasion force commanded by both him and Vice Admiral Jaisal Koruuna. The two stood, observing the area below as they came close to the planet's orbit, observing the initial salvo that would cleanse the drop point for his troops to land and begin sanitizing the entirety of the residential block. No man, woman, or child would be spared on this day. When they looked to the skies expecting hope and salvation, all they would see is death and despair befall them. Today would once again mark another slaughter of those who dared to conspire against their Empire and with it, a clear message to the Galaxy at large that death and destruction would be all that would come for them should they fall under the Empire's resentful gaze.

Vexen's arms would be crossed over his chest, adversely Jaisal's would be crossed behind his back at a parade rest stance, neither saying a word though the Vice Admiral wore that usual smirk of his as he watched cities get carpet bombed. An officer would approach the two, offering a salute before speaking, "General Vexen. The Emperor has ordered the troops to be deployed for ground assault." Vexen's armored figure would shift as he nodded before turning to Jaisal, "Prep all transports and fighters for deployment Vice Admiral. I leave the technicalities of support in your hands." The Vice Admiral would nod as he began to walk off while Vexen exited the bridge. Though it was not a task that required much effort, he thought it be prudent to show first hand the full might of the Legion under his command whilst on the ground. He'd make for the hangar bays as hundreds upon thousands of troopers began to rapidly make for their assigned transports, vehicles and walkers being loaded as Vexen entered a shuttle full of troopers. The transports would begin their flight as they flew down to the planet's atmosphere, accompanied by swarms of fighters.

Transports and fighters descended on the planet like a swarm of locust, spreading out to cover a large area around the residential areas, essentially boxing the area off as troops and walkers began to deploy. Droids would begin to march through the city streets, gunning down any civilian or soldier foolish enough to be caught out in the open without remorse as Legion soldiers began to systematically sweep ruined or untouched buildings for survivors. Men, women, and children were dragged out onto the streets, those putting up resistance simply being shot and left to lay there while those who were too fearful to act were lined up against the walls to be executed by firing squads. Vexen stood amongst his Legion, observing the cold-hearted efficiency of his army. He was ruthless in his assault, relentless in the pursuit of his goals and merciless in its execution.

Screams and cries of terror along with the constant wail of blaster fire was heard as the residential area burned. The flames of the burning buildings, some of which still had survivors within them, cast an ominous glow against the Sith General's armor, who watched without remorse. A mother would stumble out of a burning building coughing as she crawled to Vexen's feet, cries for mercy and begging that her children be spared. Vexen simply looked down upon the woman as he reached a hand back, drawing a large ornate mullinine sword that he had brought for such an occasion. He'd raise it up before thrusting it forward, piercing the woman's chest as the blade skewered her through. The woman would freeze, a look of terror on her face as blood spurted out of her mouth. Vexen would wrench the blade from her chest as she fell forward, her screaming children only being able to watch as their mother was murdered in cold blood before being executed by Vexen's soldiers.

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[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Dante Sotari"]

He watched around them as innocent civilians were yanked out of their existence.

Some to be killed, others to be turned for his own purposes.

Thousands upon thousands more simply dying in a fiery death from one moment to the next. For what? Because some star nation had designated this planet as their capital and the leaders mistook acceptance for some sort of misplaced zeal? No, Jairus knew that these people had nothing to do with the Grayson movement, nor with the Dominion that they housed so many years ago. The point of this campaign was different- he could practically read Kaine's hand in it.

Destroy them.

Kill them.

Annihilate the traces off the planet and let it serve as a message. Those that are loyal to the enemies of the Sith or simply even accept their presence amidst them? They'd be destroyed. Maybe not that same year or the next, but a decade from now... when they thought everything was okay. When they were simply shopping in the mall.

All their dreams would shatter. Just. like. that.

"I see." She would note his long dragging gaze from one scene to the next as they surveyed. In that context the see took on another meaning. "How long have you been with this Empire, Lieutenant? Since the beginning? Or were you part of the recruitment drive in the newly-acquired territories?" There was something there within her. Oh, the alcoholism was clear. It was a weakness within her that made her hands shake and if Jairus was not mistaken she already had at least a sniff up.

Just to steady herself, of course.

"What were you, before a staunch soldier of the Sith Empire?"

The scrutiny increased on her as his gaze settled itself on her.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Dante gave him a sidelong glance.

She and her squad had been tasked with two things. Making sure the Sith Lord, newly involved in the workings of the Empire, and his men were not mistaken for enemies.... and keeping an eye on him. His history with the One Sith and connections to powerful men and women in the Empire had given him the in, but the Saaraishash was not as simple as that. While her superiors did not actively distrust the man, neither did they active trust him. That was yet to be earned.

There was a moment as she mulled his question- not because it was a difficult answer but because how far did she feel like responding? He was not her superior officer in the here and now- oh that could change, and she knew it. In a heartbeat. While the Legion was primarily made up of mundanes and they could climb the ranks, it was an Empire run by and for the Sith. The ladder was easier for them to climb.

Which was just fine with Dante.

She had denied a promotion once already, much to the bafflement of her superiors. Handling a squad was one thing. More? No. She had no desire to be responsible for other people at all, let alone more other people.

"Neither," she answered succinctly. "I was recruited by an operative, little more than a year and a half ago." She did not elaborate on who. [member="Cait Falcor"], a friend. A fellow soldier. Gone now. Recruited to the Legion, yes. But to the Saaraishash first.

She felt his eyes on her and a small frown flickered over her lips. Disliking the scrutiny. If she might have considered answering his last in detail, the weight of that gaze shattered any chance of it. She disliked when people showed too much interest in her past. It made her itch. And for good reason.

"Before that I was a soldier too, Lord Starvald," she said, looking away. "There's not much difference from war to war. Just a matter of perspective.'

Through all of this, since they had set foot on Ession, the muscles in her jaw had been slowly twisting toward tension. One thing Dante was very, very good at was shoving down her feelings on things. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring hard just how much she hated everything happening here today. Dante was a soldier, yes. She had no problem killing enemy combatants. But what was happening here on Ession was anything but. She had felt it on Thyferra, and it burbled in slow, viscous bubbles down in the depths. Collateral damage was one thing. This was anything but.

[member="Jairus Starvald"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Dante Sotari"]

The smile broadened at the discomfort, the deflection and the lack of candor.

None of it was unexpected, but it only made Jairus more curious than less.

"Oh, I wouldn't know about that, Lieutenant." The Sith Lord calmly replied as his gaze swept back towards the mall. Right now two cultists were dragging out a young man from a sneaker shop. His... wife? sister? friend? crying and trying to stop them, before the butt of a rifle knocked her in the face and to the ground. She didn't move after that. "I have waged war from the Core to the Outer Rim, the Unknown Regions and back, in my experience every battlefield is different. Every war a different taste, different cadence and rhythm." His voice did not suggest that he had been enamored by it. There wasn't any desire or hunger to return to those moments or joy at the memories.

Just bemused recollection at a younger man with... deeper and yet shallower expectations.

"Though I do agree on one point- the victims are always the same group of people." He had felt it within her.

The anger and resentment at this mission. No, not just specifically this mission, but the entire purpose of Ession here. Targeting the civilians specifically to send a message to any future supporters of their enemies. Do it and you will be destroyed without mercy.

Effective, but... perhaps just a little bit uncreative.

"Would you like me to spare those I have no need of here?" Jairus asked her curiously but without specifically glancing at her. Perhaps he would if she asked him to- but right now the Sith Lord was simply curious what her response would be. Verbally, but even more importantly internally. What kind of reaction would it inspire? It were these moments where he honestly thrived the most. Coaxing out reactions, watching them and perhaps subtly pushing people here or there.

It was fascinating.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective II/IV - Clear the residential areas AND test subjects for certain genetic markers for later experiments

"Genetic Marker RFLP detected."

The person who had just been tested was moved to one side, among a small huddled group being guarded by one of her Adepts and a few soldiers. The rest of her people were sorting through the people they found in the building. Those that had been tested and did not have the marker she was looking for were split off into another group, also guarded by an Adept and a squad of soldiers. Watching the flames and destruction consume this part of the area, she was feeling... reflective. Such punitive lessons were necessary, but a habit must not be made.

"Genetic Marker RFLP detected."

A decent sample size so far, but she wanted a much larger pool of test subjects for her latest experiments. If all went according to expectations, these subjects would serve the Empire in time. They just might not be the same as they were now, but they would be unendingly loyal to the Sith and the dark side. Plus, she always enjoyed expanding on the work of past Sith Lords, and if Karness Murr could see what she had planned for his modus operandi, he might actually appreciate it. An evolution of his precious virus.

"Genetic Marker RFLP detected."

"My Lady, that was the last subject for this group."

She looked over at the small group of people she had, and then at the much larger one that had been rejected. With a gesture, the group of soon to be test subjects were herded away towards waiting transports, their yells and cries for mercy disappearing in the wake of blaster fire and destruction as the rejected group were liquidated.

"Log the IDs with the Saaraishash, and let's move on."

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

---

---

​

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Residental Areas, Ession​

Objective II​

Theme​

​

Their superiors were watching.

The 105th were like dogs hot on the heels of vermin; their opening barrage had sent the crowd scattering and running for their lives, at least what remained of them. The sounds of blaster fire, the screams of those chosen to be sentenced and the marching of boot and war machine alike filled the air with a soundscape of horror. No wonder that, as Vestille made his way down the street with his routine whilst the rest of the 105th swept the buildings and alleyways, the ratio of droids to organic combatants seemed to favor those that were bodies of metal and minds of programming over the bodies of flesh and blood. Droids were reliable and weren't about to put their conscience in the way of their assigned tasks. Organic troops, on the other hand, were unpredictable and unreliable when orders of a questionable nature were issued. There was no doubt internal turmoil within most troops had been sent down to Ession for this task but where many saw doubt and the remorse that would surely follow after the deed was done, Vestille saw this as an opportunity to prove himself and his unit to his superiors. Where others would shy away, the 105th would be the ones that marched into hell with their heads held high; the ones who delivered the final blow to the enemies of the Sith Empire, even if they were nothing more than civilian plotters and rebel sympathizers.

That, if nothing else, would garner the eye of his superiors, a chance to build a level of trust with those that created and sent the orders down the chain. A unit of soldiers that could be trusted to carry out their duty even when the mission in question relied upon moral compasses being thrown into the dirt and stomped upon. It was this that drove the Commander onward, leaving a trail of bodies and ashes in his wake.

The plan was simple, like sheepdogs, the Imperials would round up and ensure the survivors all ran towards the one singular spot, a square that was considering the central location of the residential areas. What remained was to be either slaughtered or spared, though it seemed as if the former was to be the more likely of the two outcomes; Vestille knew that the Saaraishash and Sith alike were planet side looking for people to snatch from their families for whatever happened behind closed doors; the Captain of the 105th didn't care to pry into the details of such matters, it wasn't his place. His place was here, on the ground, delivering the sentence to these vermin in the name of the Sith Empire. The 105th kept up their march, forcing the civilians and military units that were in total anarchy to be forced into a corner, the end goal of boxing in the final survivors into a nice little package left to the mercy of the Sith Lords seeming to be nothing short of a cake walk. The sooner they were able to achieve that goal, the sooner they could leave; even if the blood of the innocent would never truly wash away entirely.

"Sir?"

The silence, save from the sound of guns and the thrust of flames was broken as an Imperial trooper had ran up to the Captain, to which he silently turned his head and looked over the trooper for a moment; it was one of his, the voice marking him as roughly nineteen, maybe twenty at most. The poor lad was probably petrified and trying his best to hide his horror away from his superior but it stood out like a bonfire built on the plains. As the trooper seemed to try and clear his throat and catch his breath, he'd pull himself up, if only to add;

"You should come see this."

With a wave of his hand, ordering the rest of his routine to advance and proceed with the mission ahead, Vestille nodded to the lone trooper as he led his superior through the back alleys. After perhaps a minute or two of walking, they eventually caught up to two Imperial troopers and a single Gravewalker watching over what appeared to be three young children. It wasn't until the Commander stepped forward and realized that, although the group of children had been restrained, a single Imperial trooper laid dead upon the floor, his neck twisted at a funny angle. Vestille knew the signs all too well; a child couldn't have done the deed alone but a Force Sensitive? In a moment of panic, reaching out to the power that he didn't know he had? That seemed more logical. As the trooper rejoined his comrades with the intent to look away from the body of what used to be a friend, the Captain stepped past them all and took a knee before the three young, two boys and a girl as he silently observed. It was in that moment, he could see the innocence in their eyes, the confusion and terror that their still developing minds must be experiencing as the once blue skies were now full of smoke and fire, what used to be a reasonable and happy populace being put down in the streets by a sweeping tide of merciless killers. Whilst he didn't empathize with it, Vestille could at least understand and identify their emotions. Their one-use trick resulted in the death of an Imperial soldier which, to many, might seem easy but to a child? It showed potential.

The Captain raised to his feet and brought up his communication, speaking into the channel clearly and with a voice that delivered a message that was blunt and to the point. There was no sense in honeying words, after all;

"This is Vestille to any Saaraishash personnel within the residential sector; reporting three children, suspected force sensitive. Recovery coordinates are being uploaded to the tacmap now, my men will keep them secure until you arrive. Out."

And that was all there was to it. The small team of Imperial troops nodded and kept their sights on the prisoners who would leave one world of misery and enter another. It was highly unlikely that any of them would ever survive in the ever demanding and challenging role of being a Sith. And so Vestille marched on, deeper into the bodies and the smoke. He had either saved those children or simply set them up for a world of torment that'd only lead to their death. He knew that it wouldn't be the last time he would send someone so young to their death today.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Behemoth moved into Ession's thermosphere, ventral cannons never relenting in their continuous downpour of death and destruction as entire city blocks were completely demolished by the barrages. By utilizing advanced biometric scanning technology, the gunners of the Behemoth were able to completely avoid areas inhabited by members of the Imperial Legion or the various Sith sub-groups. Their accuracy was so precise and so controlled, they were able to completely eradicate structures in close proximity to the Imperial Legion without even running the risk of friendly fire. This was only achieved by the state-of-the-art targeting systems installed throughout the dreadnought and was considered impossible otherwise.

Captain Godfris had been given secondary command of the Emperor's flagship under the oversight of Aquila, the artificial intelligence that served as the primary captain of the dreadnought. The Emperor had already departed the moment his cruiser had entered the atmosphere, making his way down to his personal hangar to board the Crestfallen.

Fire and smoke rose high into the night sky, creating massive spires of smog and scattering embers over a wide area in a beautiful display of carnage. The Crestfallen passed through several of these thick plumes to reach its desired landing zone, which was one of the Imperial Legion's controlled assembly areas where Legionnaires and accompanying ground vehicles were deployed and redeployed throughout the city. A battalion of soldiers was awaiting the Emperor's arrival, falling to one knee in respect and obedience as he and his litter of guards and advisors meandered down the debarking ramp.

He raised a hand, bidding the soldiers rise. "You are the swords of the Empire, the method in which order and justice are meted out to those who align with chaos. We have come to Ession to unleash a justice long in its deliverance, and by the end of the cycle, there will be none left in the galaxy that would question the superiority of the Empire in which we all serve. They will see your deeds done here today, and will quiver at your might. They will look upon you and see a warrior, unfettered by their weak morality or pitiful sense of ethics, they will see killers unbound by fear and strengthened by their conviction to a cause greater than any life in the galaxy. Go forth and bring peace to Ession."

The Emperor's Peace was death, unrelenting and absolute. The soldiers cheered as they were expected to, and sharply turned to join their brothers and sisters in the slaughter. Carnifex watched them disappear into the conflagration before he and his procession moved on through the wasted city, receiving cheers and proud salutes by the soldiers and officers they passed by on their trek through gehenna. Their destination appeared before them, a little slice of the capital city that had been allotted to a man that the Sith Emperor had once fought alongside as an equal in the old regime. Now their paths had diverged, but the respect remained.

"Carach, you old fool," bellowed the Emperor as he appeared just over the ridge, his massive form surging forth with well-calculated and confident strides towards the other Sith Lord, his hand extended to grasp Jairus' arm and shake it heartily. "You never call, you never write... Unless you require something of my Empire, it seems."

[member="Jairus Starvald"] | [member="Dante Sotari"]​

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: Ession
MISSION: Eliminate Corvys Gray

The being whose only name was an epithet to his duty, and an insult to his heritage knelt at his master's feet as the lander settled to the ground on the former Dominion homeworld, Ession.

"You have your assignment, Nhar'qual," the Sith Lords' voice was modulated behind his mask, but the Olys Corellisi phrase he had named his favorite slave cum apprentice was uttered without hesitation, "be about it."

"As you wish. My Master."

Nhar'qual, once a waifish orphan found in a Corellian refugee camp, and now a towering presence fueled by anger and hate, stood smoothly, turning as he did, and strode down the descending ramp. To his knowledge, this was his first time on Ession, but he was at the point that planets were more alike than different. Dirt, air, and people of varying qualities on every planet, and always a mark to end.

His mind pulled the image of his mark to the forefront, he had memorized the information he was given. He was looking for an average height near-human male by the name of Corvys Gray. He was a lieutenant in the Ession Freedom Front, and purported to be the bastard byblow of some member of the former ruling family of Ession.

Corvys Gray was known to haunt the bars and brothels of one of the furthest suburbs of the planets capital. It was nearing the time of day for those places to be frequented, so it was the first place Nhar'qual would look.

It had become far from surprising to the assassin, the loyalty patrons of such places had in them and the vices they tended. Even with the Sith Empire invading, he would put even money on finding his mark in the first bar he walked into as not.

And if he wasn't, the assassin would surely pick up his scent and hunt him down.

 

[Dante Sotari]

"I am sure that some people would feel that way about it, yes," slipped out before she reigned it in. "Sir. What I mean is that from the top I am certain that is the case. For those of us at the bottom, one killing field is much the same as another."

Not entirely true but the last thing she wanted to do was get into a conversation about the different flavors of killing with a fething Sith. In truth, Dante didn't have much interactions with them directly and she was perfectly content with that. They tended to make things messier and more complicated than they needed to be....

Exhibited quite clearly a moment later.

There was a flicker of surprise, which Dante tamped down on her face a moment later.

"I am not authorized to make that call," she responded, eyes straight ahead. "Orders are orders."

Spoiler

She didn't see his smile, but she could hear it. His voice pitched low and for her alone just as the rising cheer greeting them over the ridge.

"Oh, please, Lieutenant. That is the coward's way out. Point towards a higher-up and decline responsibility. Let me rephrase it- if you ask me, I will spare them. If not, I will have them all tortured before they die."

"I-"

The arrival of the Dark Lord stirred up the courtyard. While those of the Legion actively involved in their mission would not blindly take a knee (they had been trained better than that), Dante was not so occupied. Without hesitation, she brought her fist up to her chest, going down to one knee.

She froze there beside him, silent and unmoving as the Emperor approached. Even keel on the exterior, her mind was racing.

[member="Jairus Starvald"] [member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[AMCO]

Location: The Behemoth
Objective IV: One man's genocide is another man's profit.
Post I

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Another day, another world in flames.

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Alderaan had been horrifying, Coruscant sickening. Now? Now all he felt was a vague unease, quickly replaced by the promise of personal gain. Perhaps it was the distance, or perhaps he was getting used to the senseless slaughter. Some might see that as a warning sign to trigger a moral awakening, but Adrian welcomed it. If he wasn't the one giving the order, then why would he feel guilty about it? The human mind was odd sometimes, but it was nothing if not adaptable.

The people he would be meeting shortly, he suspected, had similar tendencies. It took a certain amount of ruthlessness to sell out one's own people, even if their doom was inevitable. Even if whatever resistance they could have mustered would only have delayed the Sith briefly. No, these were people willing to compromise, willing to do whatever it took to secure their own position. He could respect that. He could work with that.

With a soft hiss, the cold durasteel door slid open and a finely dressed trio entered, at their head, the magister. All had dark rings around their eyes, all did their best to hide the loathing they felt for their new Sith overlords. He would need to do something about that, to shift that attention away from himself. After all, as a mere Acolyte, he would suffer all the ill-will with close to none of the influence. That would make a poor starting point for their talks indeed.

"Welcome, gentlebeings. I am pleased you could join me. It is a shame about the hardships facing your world and its people, but there is nothing any of us can do about that. What we can do is alleviate the consequences that will inevitably arise. Together, we can rebuild a soon-to-be-broken world, but only if we are willing to leave behind petty squabbles for the greater good."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]

"Mmm, saved by the bell, Lieutenant. We will continue this." Jairus murmured softly as he watched Kaine Zambrano, Dark Lord of the Sith approach. Had anyone ever even considered it likely that Kaine would once more ascend as Sith Emperor? What's more... Emperor of an empire that had done so much more than the old Sith Empire or even the One Sith could boast off.

The Free Worlds Coalition destroyed.

The Galactic Alliance vanquished.

The Silver Jedi Order fled from their ancient homes, where they had grown fat and decadent.

"Vornskr, old friend or is it Carnifex, Lord of the Sith, now?" Their hands clasped in the old warrior fashion and Jairus grinned. For a moment he was returned to the old days, when everything seemed... just a little bit more simple. It was them versus the rest of the Galaxy. Shedding blood, destroying worlds, until all would fold under the dominion of the Sith.

Happy days, no?

"And what can I say you have forged a lovely Empire here out on the Tingel Arm, with..." The glance brushed past Kaine and settled for a moment on the still-kneeling form of the Lieutenant Sotari. "...staunch loyalists at your side. I am impressed."

He was.

Carach had never disliked Kaine, even had a fondness for him, but nobody had ever accused the Butcher King of being a builder.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, of course. You are well. Yes?"

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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​

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Residential Areas, Ession​

Objective II​

Theme​

A city turned into a realm of nightmares. This was the otherworld, the place where demons and shades made their home. Whatever was good about this place was burning away into the atmosphere.

The Captain of the 105th had since he had made the call to alert the Saaraishash of the presence of the force sensitive children, who were no doubt being collected and pulled away from the sweeping arcs of projectile flame and blaster bolts, made his way back to his advancing lines from the South as they made the push North. He knew that his men had been busy, all he had to do was follow the visible body trail that had been left in the wake of his subordinates. So far, this whole operation had seemed like cutting through wheat with a scythe and not a single inch of resistance had been given in return. Were the military of Ession simply going to run and flee like the civilians? The comms were alive with chatter, reporting how block by block, it seemed as if the constant push was going ahead without consequence. Normally, this would result in a relaxed atmosphere, save for the details and objectives of their mission. Whilst many kept their grumbling to themselves further still, especially with the fact that reports started coming in that the Emperor had made planet fall and was present amid the Legion's operations within the residential area and not wanting to fall prey to his ire, the Captain of the 105th was worried about something else entirely.

They were doing too well.

A complete rout of the enemy straight off the bat was understandable; their administrative building had been destroyed by a single shot delivered by the Song of Truth; their units were probably scattered and all over the place, their terror no doubt only built onto with the sheer amount of firepower being thrown at them with little discrimination between combatants and non-combatants but Vestille knew that sooner or later, they would be forced to make a stand. A rat with it's back to a wall and surrounded will fight the fiercest and whilst Vestille knew that they'd be no match for the superior firepower and manpower fielded by the Sith Empire; the Captain of the 105th knew that maximum efficiency with minimal losses was the vital component of a successful operation. As the flamethrower infantry backed up by regular infantry carrying both standard blaster rifles, pulse rifles and repeating blasters, their advance was brought to a much slower pace; not out of incompetency or hurdles in one sense, their movements became far more tactical and more aware of their surroundings, watching for hidden pathways or shifting shadows. The civilians and military alike had quite the run through the fire and blood but there was not a single doubt in Vestille's mind that the people Ession would become united, every man woman and child fighting to save themselves or face annihilation. This couldn't be allowed to pass.

And yet, the comms that had seemed so confident just moments ago, were now singing a different tune. It seemed that the military forces of Ession had regained their senses and began to make a stand. Any guard post from the slowly shrinking encirclement line to the plaza was no doubt being emptied to the last round of ammunition and carried off to the plaza and the hastily made lines of defense. The people of Ession wanted retaliation and war; the Sith Empire would give them what they desired and more so, for they were doomed.

Vestille, having brought the 105th into a slower advance, had seemingly made the right move. As they moved from their last cleared block to the next, it was clear that numerous military personnel and hastily formed militia had begun to block the road and create cover with whatever they could find; tables, bookcases, speeders. Whatever possessions these people once had were now thrown in as materials for the desperate bid to fight for their lives. It seemed that Vestille and his men had the advantage, with half of the enemy seemingly focused on forming makeshift defenses and the other half covering them with a mix-match of blaster rifles and pistols. This, of course, was an opportunity to break through this line of defense, one that could help spearhead the push North and help link up and assist with the other assault groups on the other cardinal directions. As the 105th moved into positions and kept to cover, all done with the hammering of boot and hand signals, the yelling between militiamen and military personnel alike seemed to suggest that this was the third line of defense; the outer ring to buy the other two and the main plaza itself some time. These people seemed to want to delay the Empire for as long as possible, cause as much damage to the invading force as they could before they were crushed underfoot.

It was admirable, damn near heroic, but it ultimately wouldn't save them.

As the troops were in position, all it took was a singular clenched fist that remained up in the air to be brought firmly down to the ground... Acting as the signal for all hell to break loose. Repeating blasters and regular rifles set up in squads began hammering the Ession resistance's position; numerous men and women of both militia and official military alike were cut down as they scrambled to create their cover. Those that were left did their best to keep holding, throwing several stun grenades mixed in with thermal detonators across the street though it was clear that the situation was against the resistance; their shaking hands and the firepower coming down in their heads making for inaccurate throws and the fact that the 105th saw the thrown grenades coming and easily re-positioned themselves out of the blast radius. It was this wide spread arc of fire that kept the resistance suppressed and allowed the men of the show to advance; the flamethrowers. Urban fighting could be a double edged sword but, with such close proximity for an environment, the swift advance of the flamethrowers meant that they were upon the barely completed third line of defense; a gust of liquid death sprayed over those that remained, those who tried to retreat were cut down by blaster fire.

The next hurdle wouldn't be so easy. The people of Ession knew that they were coming and were no doubt preparing for a fight to the death. Fortunately for the men of the 105th, every fight for them was a fight to the death. There would be no surrender, no sense of mercy. They either went home alive or in a body bag. As they stepped over the burning remains of the so-called line of defense, Vestille waved his men onward still, their sole target and objective in mind. All the while, communications suggested that the third line of defense had been cleared on most sides and the advance was proceeding as planned.

The day would not be done until the flag of the Sith Empire was risen high above the plaza.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"It is easy to inspire loyalty when you practice what you preach, Carach. Something the Jedi have been unable to understand."

Oh yes, it was easy to cultivate such loyalty when there was no other option. The Silver Jedi had all but fled the region, and those that remained behind were little better than brigands and terrorists. Any other self-proclaimed 'freedom' organization was just as bad, often going against their very creeds by attempting to fight fire with fire. Yet what set them and the Empire apart was that, though often destructive, the Empire never raised arms against its own people save for instances of dissent and rebellion; which were few and far between these days.

Now, the people of other countries and star systems? Their lives were often forfeit, as could be exemplified with the current operation on Ession. However, such cruelty was only reserved for after initial diplomatic measures had fallen through, as the Empire saw it prudent to absorb and integrate its neighbors rather than acquire them through sheer brute force.

But there had been times when such force was necessary. Planets like Gravlex Med still bore the scars of the Emperor's fury, and would likely continue for many years to come.

"I am jubilant, old friend. The Alliance has fallen and one-third of its former military now belongs to us, there is no power in the galaxy strong enough to contend with us any longer." His eyes momentarily swept over to cast a cursory glance at the lieutenant still kneeling in his presence, his gloved hand motioning for her and others to rise and stand at attention. "Though I do apologize if anything of yours was broken during our attack on Coruscant, the Empire will compensate if need be."

[member="Jairus Starvald"] | [member="Dante Sotari"]​