The Final Hammer Blow [TSE Dominion of Ession]

[Darth Carnifex]

"You forgot deviant."

As if the Emperor had any room to talk, he lived in a massive palace with eight wives and countless male and female concubines. If there was any deviant among the three of them it was most certainly himself, but he didn't bother dwelling on that fact for long as Carach started to laugh. Carnifex didn't join in, but his face did gradually grow more stoic as he suppressed a bit of his own laughter, instead temporarily diverting his attention to the chaos and destruction that surrounded them.

Even now he could hear the wails of the dying, a chorus of slaughter that rose above the roaring and crackling of the fire that swept through the city streets like a storm. Gutted buildings smoldered before collapsing into useless rubble, dust and debris peppering the air as bombers screamed through the air only to deliver a payload of death several kilometers away, mushroom clouds rising above the cityscape as the ground shook violently.

His observation of their environment coincided with Carach's reminiscing of the old days when they both fought side-by-side in the Core against the Republic. "Those days never ended for me, Carach. When the government collapsed and Coruscant fell to the Alliance, I never stopped planning for our return. I worked tirelessly under the patronage of the First Order to assemble those loyal to my cause before striking out for the Tingel Arm, where I found more sympathizers everywhere I looked. The Alliance brought only disorder to the galaxy when they took Coruscant, plunging it into the molten slag of anarchy. With pirates and brigands running amok unchecked in the Outer Rim, the people cried out for a guiding hand."

And so the Empire had been formed and had brought order to every system that it could as it spread out from the Braxant Run. "But I'm sure you've heard all of my rhetoric before, Carach. It's not a new concept at this point. Besides, I am certain that Lieutenant Sotari could tell you a few new things once she starts working with you."

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

 

[Asher]

“Your silence does not scare me, Inquisitor.” A low rumbling voice staggered through the air at the amused woman that sat in the seat in front of him. “I know that this entire meeting is nothing but a trick meant to coerce me into letting go of my shares in the steelworks, and it won’t work.”

The man shuffled in his seat ever so slightly out of discomfort. Mayhaps it was a discomfort borne out of having his every move being watched by the rigid and precise stare of an Inquisitor, or perhaps it was simply a discomfort stemming from the news feed she had so conveniently opened up before his eyes just a few minutes ago without saying a word.

“The screens do not lie, Mister Bewk. This is not a trick, and I am not here to force you into anything.” She said with a cold yet to-the-point look to her. Her back straightened, her glance staring down at the man from the bridge of her nose with an air of evident superiority. “We merely want the best for you, your friends and your family, as well as something a little extra for ourselves for our efforts.”

“Uh huh, like I said, you want my shares.” Mister Bewk said and gave her an unimpressed glance of his own.

“No, you are thinking too small.” Myn said and sighed. Her head shook and the urge to roll her eyes at this man’s thickheaded inability to see her reasoning grew harder to withhold for each passing second. Alas she had to, for it was her job.

“What we want, Mister Bewk, is your cooperation.” She said and crossed her legs comfortably in her chair. “The Empire is going to need all the resources it can get if we are to bring this pitiful galaxy the peace and order that it needs and deserves.”

“So my share-” The man tried again and Myn lost her cool. Her eyes rolled in their sockets at his insistence. “-will technically be the property of the Sith?”

This was why you never gave power to the unclean common rabble and fools of the untouched society. These people who could never in their lives dream of touching, seeing or feeling, sensing the greatness that surrounded Myn and her companions. They would never understand what it was that she could do to this man in this very moment and the pain it could cause him. They would never understand the true power the she had and commanded at snap of her fingertips and as much as she wanted to make this man an example of what happened when you angered someone like her she had her orders.

“Let me… Re-phrase myself, Mister Bewk.” She said and straightened out the folds in her pants. “We will not take your profits, we won’t do a single thing to you and your money. What we will do is that we will expect your cooperation in delivering quality resources to the Empire, and in return our troops will offer you the security you need to take over this sector of the industry, if you’d so desire and it doesn’t go against our own interests.”

“Why didn’t you just say so then?” He said and leaned back into his seat with a content grin.

Myn wanted to punch him. She wanted to punch this weak idiot so bad but orders were orders.

“So you are agreeing to meeting with one of our negotiators then? We can have your steelworks?”

“No, no, hold on now. I didn’t say you could have my-”

Myn snapped. Her fists clenched and she unleashed a wave of kinetic energy that sent both the man and his desk flying out the panorama window behind him. A dozen Sith guards stormed the office and lined up behind Myn just a few seconds later. Their surprise at the now wide-open and destroyed window was evident even through their masks.

“He drew a gun, it was self-defense.” Myn lied through her teeth and they had no choice but to buy it. “Tell the Lords to find someone more compatible with these lowly morons the next time they need a negotiator.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The captain saluted her.

“Now let’s go see about claiming this steel plant for the empire by any means necessary, yeah?” She groaned and rolled her eyes once more with a shake of her head in disbelief. “Fething idiots. Surrounded by them.”

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: Ession

MISSION: Eliminate Corvys Gray

There are many types of silence. There can be the excited silence of a held breath before unleashing the surprise of a birthday party well planned. There can be the bated, electric silence of young lovers before there first kiss. Silence can run the gamut from joyous to cantankerous to grim and macabre. It was the latter most set of feelings that filled the air within the local bar. The mix of fear, anger, and hate filled the air within, drifting out on the aetheric winds of the Force as the Assassin neared.

Only at this point did Nhar'qual pause, his face breaking into a grin as he faced the door. It was recessed with a fabric overhang protecting the stairwell running down to it from inclement weather. The door was a bright red, if a bit chipped here and there, with a single head level window to see through it.

Nhar'qual took a breath, the grin still present on his face, as he grasped his sabers from his hips. It was at this point that some would call out for their quarry to face them. Offers of clemency for the other inhabitants, just for the one insignificant life. This Assassin, however, did not parlay with the friends of those he hunted. None would be safeguarded from his wrath if they aided his prey.

The wind stilled for a moment as Nhar'qual drew the Force about him, a dark, nebulous energy suffused the energy will fel energy. He fed the darkness his hate, his anger, even his fear at being bested and failing his task. His eyes grew a darker shade of yellow, and his nostrils flared as he stoked his own fires within.

His boot stepped upon the top step, and a thunderous crash of energy hit the door, splintering it inward. Almost as if on cue, blasters lit up his form with bolts from within the bar. The sabers lit with the cruel red glow and seemed to move separate from each other, and separate from his body as he maneuvered them to intercept the blaster bolts. The smell of singed armor reached his nose as some bolts got passed his guard, stoking his anger, fear, and hate even more.

His next step took him to the bottom of the stairwell in a single leap, turning his momentum into a quick succession of steps until he was within the blasted door frame, sabers still moving in and out.

He let out a second blast of the Force, sending a telekinetic pulse out from his center. Stools, tables, chairs, and misguided miscreants flew from where they had been, and the blaster bolts stopped for a moment.

Nhar'qual lunged to his left, and began to paint the inside of the bar in a far stickier substance than stale beer and peanut shells.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Dante chose. Honesty when asked a direct question by the Dark Lord of the fething Sith. Apparently she chose correctly. She had honestly been unsure. She did not count on her status to protect her from retribution if she ruffled feathers here. While yes, citizens could not be the target of a sith's whims, that did not mean she was safe from them. Especially if she tweaked someone the wrong way.

The legionnaire did not relax when Jairus started laughing. She didn't think she'd relax until she was out of here and off duty. And even then, not likely until she had a beer in her hand.

Better make that a whisky.

She didn't not respond to their quips about sin or deviancy. Honestly, all she wanted was for them to go back to their discussion and leave her out of it.

No such luck.

With the tacit approval of the Emperor, it was unlikely Dante would be able to appeal such a request. That didn't mean she wouldn't try. For now she was silent, counting down the minutes until today was over. She'd worry about the request for her aid (what even did a Sith Lord need with a Lieutenant anyway?) when it came. If she was lucky, he'd forget once she was gone. Out of sight out of mind. Or something. Hopefully he was that sort.

But then, when had luck ever been with Dante Sotari?

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

 

[Ria Misrani]

Wisps of crimson wafted into the air as the stench of death marred the land. "Add this one to the pile," Alvarex said at the corpse that laid at his feet. Ashes would be all that remained of these people. Perhaps in death, they could better serve the Empire as their ashes fed the grounds of Ession. Those that had been marked for the shuttles were now secure, his thoughts turned to the boy he found. The Blackblade turned his helmet and faced the living, he pointed his gun in their direction, "ready." All they could hear were the garbles of a monster trapped in the form of this death dealer. "Aim," he continued, "fire."

Bodies went limp, blaster bolts scorched through their flesh. "Make another pile with them."

He turned his back to the gore and headed for the shuttles. Embers of fire rose from the ground punctuating what had been done on this day. Alvarex crossed the fields until he reached the shuttle with the boy. "We've ready the boy for transport, where should we send him? Korriban?"

"No."

Alvarex entered the shuttle hunched over as to not hit the tops of it, he knelt down before the boy. A hand grasp the child's chin firmly, "you're angry, that's good - let it fester and feed the darkness inside of you. If you're worth the spit of life that the Force tells me you are then you will do well..." To the boy, all he heard was noise, muttered unintelligible noise. Alvarex turned to the other Blackblades. "Take him to the Bastion Academy, see to it that he's cleaned up and given a proper meal. I'll check in with his Overseer when I return."

"As you wish mi'lord."

The Epicanthix descended the shuttle and stood tall rotating his shoulders as he looked over at the other transports. "Secure them to the Empresses."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

OBJECTIVE III
CAPTURE AND KILL

 

[AMCO]

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

---

Leaning back in his chair, Adrian allowed the trio to confer amongst themselves. Using the break in the negotiations for all it was worth, he activated his earpiece, silently receiving a briefing from one of his observers.

---

---

It was bad, very bad. For the people of Ession, at least. Entire cities had been reduced to slag, with residential areas especially heavily hit. The only thing that had been spared was rural areas and industrial zones, and even those still faced the wrath of the occasional squadron of starfighters and infantry complement respectively. He had hoped the Empire would be more lenient, but he had been preparing for the worst. Besides, more destruction meant a bigger contract for his company, so it wasn't all bad. Not to mention that the sheer scope of the destruction would allow him to tear down the old and leave a more orderly cityscape in his wake. Yes, this could certainly be turned to his advantage, if he played his cards right.

"What, exactly, are your terms, Mr. Vandiir?" It was subtle, but it was there. The tone of suspicion. The nagging sense of right and wrong that was such a hassle when trying to do business with people who knew he was a Sith. Especially when his fellow Sith were busily massacring the populace of the planet beneath them. It was a hassle, but he had no reason to complain; after all, the pros of being Sith far outweighed the cons. Especially compared to the Jedi and their silly rules.

"There will, of course, be a hefty price involved, though its hard to give any numbers until the exact scope of the operation is known. Additionally, I expect that your government will be... helpful. At times." At that last part, he smiled cheerfully, though a sufficiently observant individual might note a certain predatory quality to the seemingly amiable gesture. Helpful indeed. Credits were important, but the young Acolyte had found that building a network was even more valuable, in the long run. Besides, he had no doubt that he would be able to get the Empire to subsidize their little enterprise. It was, after all, in its best interests to return the planet to a productive state in a timely manner.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

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

Jairus accepted Kaine's correction easily, because... well, it was true, no?

Whilst his fellow Sith Lord had continued their life without interruption or break, Jairus had attempted a different path. For many years it had been rather successful too and even now he was wondering if this was a good idea. Oh, he liked it. But addicts enjoyed their vices as well. It never ended well for them- one only needed to watch Dante Sotari and see the path that was in front of her.

If she didn't get her shet together.

"And now you have more rebels biting at your ankles. The eternal cycle continues on and on..." Jai replied with a shrug, before the gleam in his eye shone bright. For a few moments he hadn't been sure if Kaine would allow his request.

But then it was accepted without fanfare.

A smirk burned bright.

"Oh, I am sure Lieutenant Sotari and me will have plenty of time to educate me on certain things. Isn't that right, Lieutenant?" A glance past Kaine and to the soldier once again. It was always amusing how hard she did her best to stay out of sight and mind. Trying to escape notice. That was partially why he kept engaging her throughout the conversation.

Amusement.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Objective III - Ession Freedom Front
Post – Three

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IhyMvQ_N7Zc

Jantar peeked around the corner, spotting at least a dozen more freedom fighters approaching the entrance. Whatever the bartender had, they wanted it pretty bad.

She grabbed the reloaded grenade launcher from next to the bartender's body. Lifting it up, she fired the weapon out the door, then sprinted back into the kitchen as the stun grenade exploded. She was rewarded by a few muted screams.

“That ought to buy us some time,” she said.

But the freedom fighters were still coming. With another group of their comrades down, though, the approach was more cautious. Jantar gently urged the young man to move. “Head out back.” As advice goes, it was weak – as if they’d risk exiting via the front. But it got them moving again.

They sprinted through a messy kitchen and headed toward the back door. Jantar accessed the control panel and the door swung open.

“Wait here.” Jantar stepped outside, saber hilt in hand. She checked one end of the alley. A solid wall told her they weren’t going that way.

The Sith turned to examine the other. It led out to the street – where a dozen more freedom fighters were exiting a speeder.

“Well?” the young man demanded to know, sticking his head out of the door.

Jantar leaped back into the kitchen, barely avoiding being roasted by a volley of blaster bolts, and pulled the door closed behind them.

“I’d say we rule out that exit.”

“This is some rescue!”

Jantar glanced around, looking over his shoulder at the storage closets. When he saw the sign that read ‘Danger – Toxic Substances’ she grinned. “Come on. We're getting out of here!”

Jantar opened the closet door, pushed the young man in and then pulled the door closed and locked it.

A small glow-lamp flickered weakly, offering poor illumination at best.

The young man glanced around. He saw the warnings posted on the containers and the wall and frowned. “You picked a wonderful spot, too. If they don't get us, our hiding place will.”

“Do you ever do anything but complain?” Jantar climbed on top of a container. She reached up with her saber hilt, and extended it towards the ceiling, which she began to poke at.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you know about toxic substances?”

“They’re toxic?”

“And?”

“What is this, Cantina Quiz night?”

“In concentrated amounts, some vapor can be lethal.”

“And this makes me feel better how?”

Jantar continued to poke and prod in the shadows, “It's a known hazard. So, you have to take precautions. Like a sealed door and…” She paused as she heard the hilt hit something hollow and metallic.

She pressed further, and raising up with it was a one-metre square grille, full of holes. It covered a shaft of similar size leading up into dim light.

“Plenty of ventilation,” Jantar finished, and grinned.

###​

She knocked the top grille free and proceeded to crawl out of the open shaft onto the roof of the bar. She glanced down the shaft. “We'd better get moving. It's not going to take them long to figure out where we disappeared to.”

Jantar peeked out over the edge of the roof. Two more speeders were parked out front. Frowning, the Sith moved silently over the roof and checked the back of the building. The speeder she had spotted earlier at the mouth of the alley was still there. She could see two freedom fighters watching the back door.

Jantar motioned the young man over and gestured at the vehicle. “Can you pilot one of those things?”

He nodded. “Why?”

Jantar grinned, taking the saber hilt in two hands. She grinned, then turned and jumped off the roof. She landed right between the freedom fighters, who weren't expecting any company to drop in.

In a fraction of a second, Jantar activated the saber with a double snap-hiss and was striking them down.

The first guard took the saber blow right to the head, sending him crumpled to the floor. The second managed to lift his blaster, but Jantar was way faster. The tip of her saber struck the fighter’s gun, severing the business end. She then delivered two quick strikes to the defenceless guard's gut, dropping him like a rock.

Without missing a beat, she did a cartwheel just as the strike speeder pilot exited his craft, blaster pistol in hand. The pilot took two quick slashes from Jantar’s saber and tumbled to the ground.

The Sith spun back around to stare up at the young man and bowed theatrically. As she lifted back up, she was utterly shocked to see the young man holding a small holdout blaster pointed right at her. Before she could even move a centimetre, the blaster fired.

The bolt sailed right over Jantar’s head and a pained grunt sounded from behind her. The Sith whirled around to see another guard, dressed similarly to the pilot, go down. The man was holding his chest with one hand and in the other held the blaster pistol that would have shot her in the back.

“You forgot the co-pilot, laser brain,” the young man said as he hopped down to join her.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"They are a minor nuisance."

One of the bombers flying overhead delivered payload right into the base of a nearby skyscraper, causing a cataclysmic eruption of steel, glass, and permacrete as the building listed ruefully to one side before crashing down into the nearby cityscape with a tumultuous dying boom. Biometric scanning had shown a considerable amount of living entities hiding within the structure, most likely office workers or craftsman of some other profession important to Ession's industrial society. Almost all of them had perished in the fall, with those that miraculously survived being targeting by the Imperial Legionnaires that waited on the ground to sift through the rubble and execute any survivors.

Another nearby building was being assaulted by a squad of Imperial Flame-Legionnaires, their incinerator flamethrowers roaring as belching fire engulfed several storefronts ringing a large fountain plaza. The glass exploded inward from the heat, and the flames quickly flowed up to the higher levels to scorch the owner's personal residences. Upstair windows were broken out as their occupants flung themselves to the cobblestone below, most of them already on fire as they slammed against the hard ground with a sickening flop.

Like before, any that survived or teetered on the verge of death was quickly taken care of by the callous Legionnaires that waited below.

"Whatever fools they sent to harry us will meet an ignominious fate, as will any that decide to throw their lot in with terrorists. We offer the people what the rebels never could, security, infrastructure, and sustenance."

The Sith Empire had always driven forward a policy of integration when annexing new territories, allowing the native peoples to continue practicing their own traditions and culture while the Empire carefully wove Sith-Imperialism into the fabric of everyday life through the Imperial Mission. Gradually this tactic of integration has created a tightly-knit and highly loyal core territory centered around Bastion and the Sith Worlds, gradually losing strength towards the fringes of the Empire's territory, but nonetheless effective in converting new systems to the Empire's political religion.

"You should come to Bastion more often, Carach. You've been out of the Imperial spotlight for too long, old friend."

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

 

[Taeli Raaf]

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

The hospital might have been even more defended than the community center, with plenty of actual soldiers dug in with some heavy weaponry, but it had fallen all the same. Apparently, it had been the last functioning hospital in the sector, blissfully avoiding most of the bombardment by the Sith fleet and bombers. She couldn't say that was the case any longer. When she had seen the defenses arrayed around it, she had decided not to waste the lives of the Legionaries in an assault that would cost far too many lives, but summoned an airstrike to soften them up. Sure some parts of the hospital might have been damaged, patients and medical personnel joining the soldiers in death, but it was a small sacrifice.

The hospital had tons of potential subjects for her research. Easily more than those that had hidden at the community center, hoping for rescue. There was no rescue coming for any of these people. The Sith had decided extermination was all these people deserved for the transgressions done against them. At least for her captives, they would find higher meaning.

"Genetic Marker RFLP detected."

Music to her ears as she walked through the hallways. If someone was found not to have the genetic marker, there was no herding of them to an isolated location. They would be executed on the spot, their identities logged. Those with the marker were being herded outside to waiting transports to take them back to her facility in the Kanz sector.

"Genetic Marker RFLP detected."

 

[AMCO]

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

---

It was almost imperceptible, but it was there. The squinting of the eyes. The growing suspicion. The trio didn't trust him, not one bit. A shame, but that was how things were.

---

---

Nevertheless, their response was one of acceptance, if of the muted variant. They took no pleasure in this, in working with him as their planet burned under the baleful gaze of his Sith brethren. They took no pleasure in it, but in the end, they had little choice. They could refuse, but everyone involved knew that that would delay aid significantly, something VCH's PR division would be all too eager to hammer into the mind of Ession's surviving populace. Their positions were already tenuous: The Empire put little value in their lives aside from practical concerns and the planet's population would likely hold them accountable for what had happened on this dark day. They needed every piece of goodwill they could scrape together and everyone knew it.

Rising smoothly from his seat, Adrian reached out to grasp their hands one by one, ending with the magister. His hand was cold, it was sweaty, but the grip was firm. The young Acolyte couldn't help but admire the man's strength of will, his determination to overcome anything standing in the way of him and his position. Perhaps, in another life, he could have made a good Sith.

"Excellent. Emergency support is already en route and the planning of the reconstruction effort will commence without delay. Ession will be rebuilt, my friends, you have assured as much today."

Nodding amiably, he took his leave, rancor leather boots threading sharply across the polished floor. There was much to be done: Resources had to be procured, favours called in. Then there were negotiations with various parts of the vast Sith-Imperial bureaucracy that needed to be handled, political contacts to appease. Important milestones all, but the young man was optimistic. Delighted, even. The contract would be profitable, that much was true, but more importantly, it would solidify his company's bond to the Sith Empire. Simultaneously, it would help him combat the PR problems arising from his status as a Sith. He would profit, Ession would be rebuilt, and the Sith Empire would benefit in the form of increased industrial output and taxation. As untold innocents perished in blood and fire, Adrian smiled to himself. Today... was a good day.

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: Ession


MISSION: Eliminate Corvys Gray

Rage and hate simmered, flowing out of the Assassin in waves. The air around him was filled with the hum of his twin lightsabers, the whine of blaster bolts, the crash of bodies hitting furniture and walls, and the pleading screams of the dying. Nhar'qual was a whirlwind, always moving, turning to face the next closest threat. His arms moved to both intercept bolts and carve through limbs as they got close. When an enemy slipped inside his guard, it was knees, elbows, and headbutts. Always pushing, his seething dark side aura pulsing in time with a hidden music.

He was not impervious, though. His left hand lightsaber was blown from his hand in a lucky shot. The Assassin continued to assault the room with only his right hand blade. His left hand shot out with force pushes and pulls. His armor was scorched where bolts had hit him, including a laceration on his left hip where enough of the armor had been burned away to hit flesh.

Then, there was only clapping.

All around Nhar'qual, bodies steamed as the fatal wounds cooled. The blood splatters from where he had killed without his sabers formed a tableau of crimson artwork that would likely fetch a lot of money on the art market. The Assassin, looked from his most recent masterpiece to see his mark, leaning against the bar, clapping. Directly before him was Nhar'quals lost saber, and Corvys just grinned as the Assassin noticed it.

"Nicely done, lad." Corvys spoke softly, a glint in his eye as he grasped the saber hilt and stood. "I was told you'd be formidable, but the disdain with which he spoke made me think I'd brought enough to take you out." Corvys looked around himself and shrugged, seeming to be entirely unconcerned with the corpses around him.

Nhar'qual's anger spiked, and red rimmed his vision. It was only a small leap of logic to grasp of whom Corvys spoke. This wouldn't be the first test the Assassin had been forced to go through by his Master. Every one of them was designed to test him, push him to grow with the dark side. Every one of them had succeeded in both that, and watering the seed of hate for his Master.

"I see you understand." Corvys grinned and ignited the lightsaber. "I'll let him know that you knew before I killed yo...."

Nhar'qual pushed out with his hate and anger, pushing the dark side to coalesce into an aura of fear. This caused Corvys to stop short in his gloating as his eyes widened suddenly. Falteringly, the man tried to rush forward and attack. The Assassin reached out through the Force, and stopped him dead in his tracks, gripping the man by the neck in a Force grip. Corvys's legs kicked as he was dragged into the air, choking.

Nhar'qual stalked forward, his left hand tightening the Force grip on his quarry's neck. Without saying a word, he shoved his lightsaber up through his opponents groin, pushing until the tip of his saber burned it's way out of Corvys's skull. Then he pulled his hands apart all of the way, slicing the back out of the now corpse and tossing it to the ground.

Then he turned on his heel, silencing his blade as he pulled the second one to his hand, then attaching them to his belt. He force pulled all of the alcohol from the wall behind the bar, and sent a simple jolt of electricity into the mix to start it burning.

His steps then took him out of the scene of his latest test as his mind worked on how best to return the favor to his erstwhile Master.