Dominion The Longest Night | EE Dominion of Maya Kovel and Qina

[STRATCOM]

The planets or moons of Maya Kovel and Qina are relatively close to each other, yet in a different solar system. A few parsec away from each other.

One of the planets, Maya Kovel, was just living its golden age and, in hopes of a more peaceful accession, they invited the Eternal Empire to one of their major annual festivals, similar to earlier on Lanteeb, only there is spring, here and autumn was celebrated by the locals. At such times, they dress in costumes and costumes every year to deceive the local spirits.

The dead, family and traditions are remembered at this time of year. They don’t usually welcome strangers at this time, but now they’ve done so and are happy to see friends of the Eternal Empire as well. Participants were able to come to a huge, large-scale ball, which thousands usually attend. It is easy to merge and mingle in the crowd, not to mention that new contacts and acquaintances can also be gained.

In contrast, Qina was nowhere near as lucky. For them, for an unknown reason, a Rakghoul epidemic broke out, for which they were not prepared at all and did not even know what to do. Of course, as soon as the epidemic broke out they asked for help immediately. But remote help can take weeks or months, which they may not have time for.

It is for this reason that the government of the moon, together with the Eternal Empire, quarantined the planet, where only official medical personnel could land and then leave the planet later. No one else is for safety until the antibody arrives. However, because of this, the entire population is threatened with infection because the leaders of the planet are not standing on the heights of the situation and not even allowing the Eternal Empire to land, only to guard the blockade.

This is how the fate of the two nearby places, where one party walks hell and the other heaven…

Objectives​

Objective 1: The Masquerade

The leadership of Maya Kovel invited the Eternal Empire and its friends to this event. This is the first ball, an official non-military event since the Imperial couple disappeared and Ingrid L'lerim became an Empress Regent. Many events have taken place since then, which was a reason to celebrate. The military coup was defeated, the Eternal Empire once again made peace with the Sith Empire. As a result of this peace treaty, an engagement was also made between Empress Regent and AMCO . And they even managed to form new relationships with the Smugglers Alliance.

So there was plenty of opportunity for anyone to come here to relax and have some fun. And as such an event, of course, there has always been an opportunity for those present to form new relationships, acquaintances and acquire such things. But the main goal is to make everyone feel good. All participants must come to the event in costumes or masks.

Objective 2: The Plague

Qina is a moon orbiting a gas giant, where, however, there are quite chaotic states. Even the Eternal Empire would help on the surface, but the Qina government will not allow it all, citing the risk of infection. Presumably, the Eclipse Rebellion is not happy to see that this is neither the case, nor the Black Sun, who has countless connections on the moon.

The only winner of the situation so far is the Smugglers Alliance because they have a lot of work to do. Smuggle medicines and medical equipment to the surface. But a lot of locals also indicated that they would pay large sums to smuggle them or their families off the planet. So there were plenty of business opportunities to choose from.

The forces of the Eternal Empire were ordered by the Empress Regent that if they could not come to terms with the local government, they would even land on the planet by force, at the level of occupation, to help the locals and stop the infection. And the local fleet has even taken this step, resulting in a huge chaos around the planet on the surface and in the atmosphere.

And for Black Sun, the Eclipse Rebellion, and the Smugglers Alliance, it was the perfect opportunity to keep their own interests in mind. And the Loyalists present had a perfect opportunity to make a name for themselves.

Objective 3: BYOO

Bring your own objective, whatever you want.

Spoiler: tag list

Aaran Tafo || Adelle Bastiel || Alondra Lareina || @Alwine Lechner || Alyva Terrix || Anton Delane || Arturo Braga || @Azazel || Bachus || Carter Tymon || Centiro || Cero Pax || @Charlotte Knyte || Darth Aion || Ecthelion Aiglos || Eirene || Eryn || Fimrati Vailyippin || Formorta || Goonch Bagarius Yarrelli || Ilsa Visel || Ingrid L'lerim || Jardann Lancus || Juggernaut || Kainan Wolfe || Kalic Daws || Karma Jayne || Kerstan Blackmoore || Khorde Drago || @Lanebsa || Loreena Arenais-Valhoun || Lorelai Ventira || Lyla Quinn || Malicar || Mythos || Nekana Quane || Nerulic || RadioWhisper || Ranik Delmont || Rath Exigo || Shandria Navin || Taozi Fuyuan || Tela Uolmi || Tiberius Bayne || Vidalu Na'an || Viktor Goetz || @Vol Obaul Di || Vyra Silara || Will Westender || Wulf Orlock || Xiomar Ren || Mitth'rae'leios || Broka the Hutt || Karisa || @Servelus Zambrano || @Kai’el || Kaine Hamilton || @Sabella de Vreis || Race Tolsen || @Miles Morrow || Rumi Dag || Corran Conner || Saabossi || Gerhard Manndorf || Kyle Raymus || VanceCaydence || Edward Ashcard || Galdaart || Lord Malleus || @Rhaego Charon || Gortta Desilijic Tiure || @Roman Calypso || Lora Vekarr || @Tamacti Khan || Neferisa || Krae || Shavara || @Kodomo || Innas Paurs || Salij-Nekt || Rothamir || Eliana Shan || Curtis Learchin || Sterling Kinslayer || @Saga Zinlaggen || 1st Lt. Garrek Kanos || Ben Serrano || QEMD-15 Echo || Farah || Lucas Harvey-White || Saga Linzino || Sentiri || Vexari Kahl || Fiona Graehl || Avolich Erasare || Temasa Ka || Eisenweber || T The Smoking Man || Delila Castillon || Darth Revulsion || Willow & Ivy || Lorne Kantera || Kelsen Ghastt || Deryn Kaaldos || Nikolai Cridu ||

Link: Maya Kovel and Qina

​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Autumn’s ball, Maya Kovel
Attire: Elegant dress | Mask | Tiara | Necklace (Shield talisman)
Tag: Open

Another event, though, was different now than it was before. Until now, she represented the Emperor with her presence at one such event, but now the Eternal Empire itself. It was her first official non-uniform appearance like Empress Regent. She would have been glad to be simply in her uniform and not dressed like that. Ingrid saw no point in light of the fact that neither AMCO nor Tubrok were here. The two men - apart from dating - had never seen her most beautiful dresses.

Of course, Ingrid also arrived with the diplomatic delegation, much better prepared than before for the events at the previous Orellon II. Not to mention that neither STRATCOM would have let her go without major insurance, nor the House L’lerim’s High Command. Thus, quite large military escorts arrived with them, along with a smaller fleet. Once again, they didn’t risk a trap like it was there.

Ingrid had already completed the mandatory introductions and greetings she had to attend. She did these mainly with the leaders of the planet and the nobility and businessmen here. That is, she was already behind a very tiring evening. It would have been great for her now to have a hot bath and a massage, but it was still a long way in the morning and she had to represent the Empire. She walked through the rows to get out onto the large terrace, from which the paths led to a huge garden and a maze of plants.

She could feel the gazes on her own, some of them not only curious and searching, but some when someone was trying to scout the wild. There were those who watched not only because of her rank, but because she was a beautiful woman, alone. It felt like when predators got blood in their eyes because she seemed weak. In her case, they were wrong in this regard. However, high rank also had advantages, everyone stood out of her way as she passed through the crowd. At least that was easy to do.

Outside, a pleasant wind blew, flaunting every red colour thanks to the many iron-based metals on the planet. She wished she had been here with her, her husband, Tubrok Ragal, or her fiancé, AMCO . She leaned against the railing in silence and looked down on the city and the gardens. Her red hair, which looked longer than usual, was caught in the wind - thanks to the treatment she received from her fiancé, she was able to change the length of her hair by shape-shifting. She watched the conversations, listening, as did the noises of the city.

Everything seemed so peaceful and calm, mainly due to the slow music filtering out of the background, the indoor room.

​

 

[Kelsen Ghastt]

​

Location: Autumn's Ball, Maya Kovel
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim

To Admiral Keslen Ghastt, duty was everything. There were some duties, however, which she found did not suit her.

Diplomacy was one of them. Kelsen's strengths lay in commands and maneuvers on the battlefield, not in the delicate arts of flattery, ingratiation, and compromise. And yet she understood that the ability to take a world without firing a shot was, in its way, far more powerful than the vast fleet at her command. So here she was, the girl who had grown up on a farm surrounded by pampered nobility and filthy rich businesspeople. If maintaining the order and stability of the Eternal Empire meant putting on a dress instead of her uniform, she would do it.

Still, she would have much preferred to be on the bridge of the Oath of Obedience, overseeing the Fourth Fleet as it took up a position around Qina. Unlike Maya Kovel, which had been wise enough to accept the coming of the Eternal Empire with open arms, that wretched little moon had rejected their offers. They had cited a need to quarantine due to a rakghoul outbreak, but such a crisis should have made them more eager to accept military aid, not less. Kelsen was certain they were hiding something. Rebels, if she had to guess. Her lip curled.

But dealing with recalcitrant worlds was not her role tonight. The Oath was under the command of her second, Commodore Barakis, and she knew he would not fail to bring order to Qina. Instead, she was here for the masquerade, to prove that the Empire's iron fist could wear a velvet glove in the company of its friends. Her job was to look and act refined, to show that the military was a scalpel wielded against threats to order rather than the indiscriminate, bloodstained mallet the Eclipse Rebellion had painted them as. Curse those holos from Bakura.

Kelsen could not remember the last time she had worn a dress; it must have been when her father was alive, and she was not yet seven. Though she felt uncomfortable in anything but her uniform, she had to admit that the artisans of the Empire had done an exquisite job for her. The black and purple gown spread out around her like a swirling pool of shadows, the shimmersilk fabric twirling into new patterns of twilight with each step and turn she took. Her elegant aurodium mask, enameled in three colors, completed the ensemble with an air of mystery.

Focused entirely on her career and what it could accomplish for the Empire, Kelsen had never put much time into personal relationships. She was not naive, however. She knew that she would turn heads tonight. It was one more weapon in her arsenal. She was like stained glass this evening; she was beautiful to look at, but if you touched her roughly, you would find yourself cut and bleeding. That was the message she would send about the Empire as a whole, as well. It was wise to be their friend; to become their enemy, on the other hand, was suicidal.

Striding across the grand hall, Maya Kovel's famous reddish light spilling over her pale skin, Kelsen caught sight of the Empress Regent herself. The admiral's breath caught in her throat. Whatever magic had been worked on her behalf, the Regent had far exceeded it. She was resplendent in red and black, the very vision of a leader of unmatched beauty and terrible power. Sweeping over to her, Kelsen bowed at the hip, military style - though it was awkward in her dress, which was not meant to bend so at the waist. She winced at the misstep.

"Milady Regent," she said, her eyes lowered deferentially. "I wished to express my gratitude for your invitation to be here tonight. The Fourth Fleet is honored to be represented at these festivities."

 

[Rath Nihro]

Objective 2: The Plague

Location: Imperial Blockade, Qina
Equipment: KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle | KC-95 Ace of Spades | Sk-UL MK2 Armor

The ship constantly hummed from the engines constantly spurred with activity. It was a familiar sound that Rath grew up with, but being on a Star Destroyer was still relatively new to the young soldier. The ship was so huge that it would take Rath several minutes to travel from his bunk bed to the bridge. While there was a party taking place in Maya Kovel, there was one hell of a mess going down in Qina. A plague of Rakghouls snared the planet into a strict quarantine to where no one aside from medical personnel was allowed in or out of the planet. Rath heard stories of Rakghouls; monstrous creatures that poisoned anything they touched. He’s never personally seen one though, and frankly he would rather not face them either.

Rath was assigned to the blockade fleet as part of their ground infantry if the need came to light. Of course the alternative was to pilot a starfighter in the case of a fight erupted in space or in the atmosphere. Even so, there was a sea of star destroyers and cruisers surrounding Qina. It was impressive to witness such a sight, but at the same time it was a bit disappointing for the circumstances they were in. A lot of the higher ups want the Eternal Empire to go down and evacuate the uninfected and eradicate the Rakghouls. However the Qina government refused anyone from landing on the planet’s surface with the exception of medical supplies and personnel. From what Rath has witnessed and experienced in the past; with this blockade in effect those same supplies and personnel could take a week or longer before they reached the planet’s surface.

”Have you ever seen a Rakghoul before Private?” A human of short grey hair that sports a nasty claw mark along the left side of his face spoke through the silence as he stood over the young soldier. Rath recognized the scarred soldier to be Sergeant Besin Fallensnow as Rath sat in his bunk bed with his dismantled hybrid strike rifle. As Rath was in the midst of cleaning his rifle as per maintenance for safe measure.

“Only in holograms, sir.” Rath answered, garbed in his uniform with Rath’s Sk-UL armor neatly laid out on his bed. A standard maintenance procedure as Rath made sure everything was operational, and the fact that his rifle alone required maintenance almost on a daily basis. Besin slightly shook his head as his eyes shifted to the rifle.

”Be glad you haven’t. They’re nasty little buggers that many people underestimate. One is not an issue, but a group? That’s where things get messy.” Then the Sergeant gestured with an empty hand over to Rath’s armor.

”That armor for example? I’ve seen men twice the size as you get torn to pieces in that same armor.” Rath was getting the clue that Besin was trying to keep the boy out of the mission in the case they drop down to Qina, and Rath shook his head as he lowered his gaze to continue cleaning out the barrel of his rifle.

“I understand sir.” Rath simply said as the Sergeant crossed his strong arms over his chest.

”How old are you son?” Besin’s tone held a softer tone this time, but there was still strength behind Besin as well. From what Rath could see, Besin might be approaching old age, but the Sergeant certainly doesn’t act or look like it.

“Nineteen sir.” The cleaning cloth was run through the barrel a couple of times until there wasn’t a streak of grease left. After that Rath began to assemble the rifle together.

”Nineteen… Well young man, I don’t know whether or not we’ll drop. But when we do you stick with the team. Don’t go wandering off on your own, and don’t chase after single Rakghouls. Rakghouls don’t run away from their prey, some inherit intelligence to set up ambushes on the unwary. Plus, we more than likely will have to gun down some of the infected as well.” Rath didn’t need to search the Force to sense that Besin spoke from experience. Whether that experience came from his own actions, or someone under his command had done those exact same things and paid for it with their lives. It is a wonder of how Besin has been serving for such a long time, and from what Rath heard Besin was commanding a mercenary corps before pledging his loyalty to the Eternal Emperor.

“Understood sir, but shouldn’t you tell the others in our squad this information as well?” Rath’s question was awarded with a chuckle from the Sergeant, but to the young soldier it was a logical question.

"That’s because I already had told them. See, there is a difference between a debriefing and just talking to each man and woman in the squad. Because it gives me a better idea of how each of you operate, and it gives me confidence to guide us better so that we can live another day to serve the Empire.” Rath actually understood that line of thinking. It was smart for a leader to know how each individual thinks and what their skillset was as it led to better commands and accurate positioning in regards to tactics. The teen nodded his head in agreement, but Rath didn’t add anything verbal wise. The comforting motions of putting together Rath’s strike rifle set his mind at ease, and with a turn of the man’s boot Besin spoke.

”Be ready in one hour, Private Nihro.” Besin ordered as the footsteps receded from the crew member’s chambers. It was a big room that could easily house a dozen people comfortably, and each had their own footlocker to stow personal items and clothes. The hiss of the thick metal door opened to let Sergeant Besin out, and it was followed with a second hiss as the door closed behind him. All the while Rath finished up on assembling his strike rifle before he leaned the rifle against the side of his bed.

 

[Lorne Kantera]

​

Location: Inicus Mont, Qina
Tags: Open

In his years roaming the galaxy, Lorne had found that a lot of planets had a greatly exaggerated sense of their own importance.

Qina was a good example. It wasn't even a planet, just one of several moons drifting around an insignificant gas giant in an insignificant system at the edge of an insignificant sector. But feth him if it didn't see some traffic. The insectoid Vashans, native to a nearby planet that was also of no real importance, had decided that the moon was holy. It'd been home to some religious figure called Antikra the Egglayer, who had nested in the caves of a tall limestone mountain called Inicus Mont. Vashan priests had been buried in those catacombs ever since.

It wasn't the kind of place Lorne would normally have any interest in. He'd encountered a hundred religions and more in his travels, and none of them did much for him - unless he could turn a profit fleecing their adherents with fake relics or made-up prophecies. But things had changed on Qina lately, and not for the better. The planet had suffered an outbreak of rakghoul disease, the mutagenic plague that just about everyone across the galaxy had heard of... and feared. Quarantine had stranded countless pilgrims, and their desperation meant opportunity.

Lorne had slipped in just before the blockade went up, the cargo hold of the Wayward Wyrm filled to the bulkheads with medical supplies. None of it would cure rakghoul disease - the serum for that was incredibly rare, and Lorne didn't know how to get any - but it might hold off infection, and desperate people would spend their credits on whatever they could get. Finding buyers had been just as easy as he'd predicted. With rakghouls roaming the towns and wilderness alike, survivors had holed up in a few easily-defensible locations.

One of them was the Cave of Sanctuary, one of the catacombs carved into the side of Inicus Mont. Lorne had set the Wyrm down just outside the cave and made his way inside. In his left hand, held over his head to shed maximum illumination, was a glow rod. In his right, just to be safe, was his heavy blaster pistol. The eerie blue-green light of the rod showed him stone steps, oddly angled and spaced; they had clearly not been carved with human feet in mind. He descended them carefully, trying not to slip on the damp, uneven surface.

The ghostly glow next washed over tall, ridged urns, carved with the faces of bohdis - Vashan priests, the leaders of their strange insectoid religion. He couldn't help but shiver as he passed them; their compound eyes had been carved in terrifying detail, and seemed to follow him as he moved. Finally, beyond the strange tombs, he saw what he'd come for - the glow of fusion lanterns. He'd found the survivors. "Looks like you all could use a hand," Lorne said, shattering the silence of the catacomb. He grinned. "It's a real mess out there."

Hesitantly at first, then with mounting relief, the group of Vashans scuttled toward him, their four lower limbs making little tic-tic-tic sounds as they clambered over the stone. "Thank Antikra you have come," one of them said, its mandibles clacking out the words in heavily-accented basic. "The monsters are... killing everything. We must leave this place at once and find treatment for our injured." Lorne smiled even wider; this couldn't have worked out any better. "Then it's your lucky day, pal. For a small fee, I can be your express trip offworld."

He was about to explain that he'd even brought plenty of medical supplies when Beebo's high-pitched trills squawked out of his comlink. Lorne's smile vanished. "Aaaand it's time to go. We've got rakghouls headed this way." He turned to leave, but one of the Vashans caught him by the arm. "It is too late to flee, outlander," it wailed. "They have the mountain surrounded! They smell us, and they are closing in!" Lorne frowned, checking his blaster's charge. "Yep. They're already almost at my ship. They'll hit the cave mouth soon."

He pulled free of the Vashan's grip. "Hope you gentlebeings can fight, because we're gonna have to shoot our way out."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Autumn’s ball, Maya Kovel
Attire: Elegant dress | Mask | Tiara | Necklace (Shield talisman)
Tag: Kelsen Ghastt | Open

While she was out on the balcony, Ingrid could still feel the gaze on herself. In the meantime, she thought, carrying a heavy burden on herself, to carry on the legacy of Kainan Wolfe , that is, rather the Eternal Empire and conquer. If all is true and the sun rises, two more planets will join them, one on a more peaceful path, the other through occupation. There were quite a few worries on her shoulders, including what would happen if the Emperor ever returned.

Ingrid was not the person intoxicated by the power, but at the peace treaty, the Sith Empire, especially AMCO , explained that the Sith did not really want the Emperor to re-enter the Eternal throne. In the interest of the Eternal Empire, Ingrid turned a blind eye to the fact that the Emperor had in fact also betrayed the Eternal Empire, not just the TSE. She never brought up to the man that he had bypassed STRATCOM and had not initiated them into an alliance with the NIO or a betrayal of the TSE, only at the last minute. The man may have been the emperor, but he circumvented the laws while he always said no one could stand above them.

If the Overlord acts in accordance with the law, she must arrest the ruler when he appears. But that would show that she wanted the throne, which was not true. The people were still a little confused about the coup. Nor, however, could she let Tacitus act against the Empire once more. She was loyal to the Emperor, who was her friend, ally, and mentor. But still, for her, the Eternal Empire was the first. She was grounded between these two things, if she acts against the Emperor and accuses him of treason, she must replace him. Failure to do so will endanger the whole Eternal Empire.

And she couldn’t share those thoughts with anyone else, Tubrok didn’t want to have a say in it, it was Ingrid’s case, and the woman couldn’t tell Adrian because TSE was the first for the Sith Lord. After that, did anyone still wonder why the woman felt lonely? There may have been two great men in her life, but she was always left alone with her duties. As she thought about these, she watched her surroundings, which is why she heard someone approaching her. In vain, she was a spy, without such attention she would not have been alive.

The Overlord turned and saw Admiral Kelsen Ghastt . Apparently the woman didn't feel particularly good in the prom dress either, although it was common for Ingrid to wear something like that. She was obliged to do the same from her noble rank. There may have been soldiers here, but outside the Eternal Empire she was “only” noble. She greeted her with an elegant, noble nod.

<”Feel free to salute if it's more convenient for you, Admiral. Nothing is more natural than this, you have always done a great service to the Eternal Empire in recent years. Especially recently at Orellon II.”>

Her voice, as always, is cold and distant, but not hostile at all. She sounded more like a mere soldier, like when she used to talk to others about her official affairs.

<”Admiral Ghastt, have you considered a political career in addition to a military career?”>

​

 

[Kelsen Ghastt]

Location: Autumn's Ball, Maya Kovel
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim

Recovering from her less than successful attempt at a bow - should she have curtsied? No one had ever taught her how - Kelsen was grateful to be offered the opportunity to salute instead. That was something she understood. They had gone over it again and again during basic training, the instructors drilling the correct angle and crispness of movement into their heads multiple times a day. And so Admiral Ghastt saluted the Empress Regent, though the perfect click of her heels snapping together was lost in the folds of her flowing dress.

"Thank you, your highness," Kelsen replied, accepting the praise she was due for her actions at Orellon II. "The Fourth Fleet was proud to serve." The admiral suspected that it was her timely arrival over the rebellious world, providing fire support to cover the retreat of the Imperial delegation, that had secured her invitation to the masquerade; few military personnel were present. But perhaps it was not the rescue but the sanctioned vengeance that was being rewarded tonight. There were few who could oversee the burning of a world.

Kelsen had proven that she was one of those few. Orellon II had paid a high price for defying the Eternal Empire.

The Empress Regent's question caught Kelsen off-guard, and she paused a moment before replying, considering her words carefully. "I had not, your highness," she said, and it was the truth. "I fear that diplomacy is not among my talents. The military has been my life for twenty years, and while I understand my role there, I find myself unfamiliar and off-balance in situations such as this." She gestured around at the masquerade, where masked and costumed crowds rubbed elbows, made connections, and plotted dealings.

"Of course," the Admiral quickly continued, "your wish is my command. Should you require political duties of me, I will turn my full focus on mastering them. No matter my role, I will accept nothing less from myself than proving a valuable asset to the Empire." Kelsen wondered: was this idle chatter, or did the Empress Regent have a position in mind? The fact that she could not tell was further proof that she belonged out on the battlefield, among rocket fuel and laser bolts, rather than mired in inscrutable webs of words.

But she had meant what she said. Loyalty was everything. If the Regent commanded her to walk into space without a suit, she would.

 

[Nikolai Cridu]

​

Location: Quarantined Spaceport, Qina
Tags: Open

Nik could feel them. He hadn't seen one yet, had never even seen a picture before, but he knew what they were.

Through the Force, the young Jedi could sense the rakghouls stalking around the spaceport's perimeter fence, trying to find gaps in the electrified wall. Their presence was a mass of slimy shadows; reaching out to their auras reminded him of brushing up against a blind cave fish, feeling that rubbery flesh glide by in the dark. He could sense that what had turned them was no ordinary disease. The stain of the dark side was heavy on each of them, woven into their twisted flesh, an ancient curse that kept on spreading millennia after its creation.

Beneath it all, Nik heard the faint screaming of the people they had been before they'd turned. It was hard not to throw up.

He stood in the midst of a crowd of refugees, the few who had managed to make it to one of the fortified quarantine zones as the rakghouls overtook the streets. This one had been set up around the spaceport, but only government craft were allowed to use it; none of the desperate people here were permitted to take shuttles or ships elsewhere, no matter how they pleaded or how much money they offered. They were stranded, stuck here until the crisis was over... or until the monsters outside broke through and killed them all.

Though he tried not to, Nik sometimes resented the pull of the Living Force. It still guided him in dreams, dreams that his teachers in the Hidden Enclave insisted he follow and learn from. But when those dreams brought him to a place like Qina, where terror and pain lay heavy in the air, suffocating his newly-awakened senses, it was hard to be grateful for the gift. But he was here now, and there was no way for him to get anywhere else, so he did his best to make himself useful. There were plenty of injured to treat, and he had the skills to do so.

"All done," he said, withdrawing the hypo from the wide-eyed Nautolan's arm and pressing a gauze pad to the injection site. "Make that hand into a fist for me, and keep it elevated." He took the woman's other hand and pressed it over the gauze pad. "Keep firm pressure there. It'll clot in a minute or two. Keep breathing, slow and steady. You're going to be just fine." The injection would relax her while it purged her body of toxins and sped her healing process. So long as she hadn't contracted rakghoul disease, she'd be okay.

Many Jedi, Nik knew, could heal with their hands, passing the energy of the Living Force through themselves and using it to mend wounds and banish disease. But he was still new at this, very new, and while he could feel the Force, he couldn't touch it, couldn't direct it to do all of the incredible things that people revered the Jedi Knights for. He hoped that he would get there someday, becoming a great Jedi who could heal and protect and bring peace, but first he had to listen and learn. So for now, traditional medical supplies would have to suffice.

There was a loud zap at the perimeter fence, and the lights flickered inside the spaceport. Everyone flinched; several people screamed. Another rakghoul must have thrown itself at the electrified wall, getting fried but draining a little more power in the process. Soon, the generators might well fail, and then the horde would come. But there was nothing Nik could do about that. He could only trust in the Force and keep doing what was within his ability. Standing, he moved to the next patient, forcing his face into a calm smile. "Where does it hurt?"

 

[Arturo Braga]

Site Two, Qina
Tags: Open
Gear: KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle, KC-77N Hybrid Pistol, Sk-AR Mk.1 Armor

The shuttle rattled as it continued it's steady descent through Qina's skies. Overcast and bleak, the sky reflected perfectly the mood hanging over the strike team as they sat hunched over in their seats, motionless, brooding. Twenty in all, half of those who filled the compartment were Suns; the other half consisted of Etties from a bunch of different units. Arturo didn't know the specifics, exactly, but what he did know was that a few of the Empire's men were explosives experts. Which made sense, really.

Since their objective was to infiltrate deep into a rakghoul hive and blow it to smithereens.

No easy feat by most standards. Still, High Command must've had faith, otherwise they wouldn't of arranged this... clandestine affair in the first place. Sitting up in his seat, Arturo watched and waited and listened as the soldiers talked amongst themselves. Armed to the teeth, the group looked every inch the average professionals. When compared to his own bunch of misfits, they looked much akin to warrior-gods. But looks could be deceiving, the mercenary knew. For all their oddities, he knew his team to be a just as competent and effective as the soldiers no doubt were. Perhaps moreso.

Of course, he didn't share that opinion with the mean-looking sergeant sat across from him.

Poking his head out from around the corner of his seat, the pilot called back to them. "ETA: Five minutes. Best prepare yourselves." Nodding, Arturo gestured for his people to put their buckets on. Picking up his own helmet from where it rested between his feet, the mercenary proceeded to slide it on. Calm, he watched as the HUD blinked into life, relaying several bits of information as well as his crew's vital signs. Once, he had found the sight to be overwhelming, and downright nauseating. Now, however, it didn't bother him in the slightest.

Standing, Arturo moved towards the cockpit to gaze out through the viewscreen. The world beyond painted a bleak, hopeless picture; not for the first time, the mercenary began to wonder whether he'd made the right choice, volunteering for this mission. Too late now, he thought, musing on what was to come. Their destination was a town called New Rythou. He had no idea what had happened to the original Rythou, but what he did know was that it was a mining town, one with a relatively small populace of about six to seven thousand. At least, that had been the case as of a week ago

Now, it was nearing the thirty thousand mark, mostly due to an influx of refugees fleeing the plague. Evidently, it had followed them here.

And now here we are, flying right into the middle of it all with blasters and a big kriffing bomb. Arturo couldn't help but shake his head. It seemed he'd bartered his rationality away for a hefty stack of credits. Not a bad trade, truth be told. Turning, Arturo slapped the shoulder of one of his men as he returned to his seat, waking the man from his slumber. No doubt he was getting a few sacred minutes of shuteye before they touched down.

Smart, considering the fact that what was coming next would most likely haunt all their dreams for the rest of their lives.

 

[Rath Nihro]

Objective 2: The Plague

Location: Imperial Gunship, Qina’s Atmosphere
Equipment: KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle | KC-95 Ace of Spades | Sk-UL MK2 Armor
Tags: Lorne Kantera

While Rath was given an hour to prepare himself. That time was cut short as Rath just finished maintaining his armor’s effectiveness when he heard the familiar voice of the Captain over the intercoms.

”Attention all ground infantry, rendezvous with your squads in your designated hangars at this time. Attention all ground infantry, rendezvous with your squads in your designated hangars at this time.” It only had been half an hour after Sergeant Besin had left the chamber, but it wasn’t like Rath didn’t expect the call. Rather he was keeping himself occupied until the time came for action. The mere fact that they are being called to the hangar meant only one thing, and that was because diplomacy with the Qina government had failed. So the Eternal Empire decided to take matters into their own hands by forced entry of the moon. Whether this was by the will of the Force, or some other sinister hand that guides their actions from the shadows. Rath took comfort in the former conclusion as he had no proof for the latter.

In a quick precision of time and effort, Rath donned his armor including the placement of his helmet over his head. With a hiss, the helmet sealed with the armor and the HUD came to life before his eyes. The metallic sound of heavy steps could be heard over the helmet, but it was dampened compared to how loud it really was. Still Rath grabbed his vibrodagger and attached the clip onto his belt over the right side. With his pistol holstered over to his left side, Rath picked up his rifle before the soldier turned to travel from the chambers to the hangars.

”Bravo Squad, rendezvous at Hangar B16 within five minutes.” Another voice spoke through the comms within Rath’s helmet, and Rath recognized that voice to be Sergeant Besin. As he was told, Rath went over to the Hangar B16 where there were several soldiers that stood at attention with Sergeant Besin armored up with an Sk-UL model as well. Rath got in line as Sergeant briefed them on the situation.

”Now that everyone is here, I’ll make this quick. Our scanners picked up a cluster of lifeforms located within the heart of a mountain, and these lifeforms are believed to be refugees from their pandemic. The problem is that about fifteen minutes ago our scanners also picked up a herd of lifeforms rapidly approaching the refugees. Our mission today is to go down there, get these refugees out, and make sure any Rakghoul you see is a dead one. Everyone understand that?” In unison, everyone in the squad confirmed this with only two words that resonated from the docking bay’s walls. Loomed over them was a stationary gunship that could easily hold their entire squad plus some. From what Rath had gathered, there was supposed to be two more gunships accompanying them to their destination. Strength in numbers and all that.

Sergeant Besin smirked as he liked the response of everyone being on the same page. It made his job a lot easier, and it meant that there won’t be any casualties on their end. The Eternal Empire can’t afford to lose a substantial amount of soldiers in this endeavor, but at the very least they tried to keep the casualties to no more than a dozen. At the end of it, everyone boarded their respective ships, and like a sea there were hundreds of starships descending from their freighters to Qina.

On one hand, traveling to another planet that’s not like the eternal winter of Kaldan was exciting, but on the other hand Rath knew they were still dealing with the aftermath of Sith Alchemy that corrupted the lifeforms that are known even to that day as Rakghoul. What’s even worse was the fact that Rakghouls could be found in various planets. To make matters worse, even a single bite or scratch could be fatal for that person.

A nudge could be felt on Rath’s shoulder as he sat on one of the seats. Rath turned his helmet’s vision over to the source to find another soldier armored up to the teeth, yet a voice that spoke to Rath suggested this soldier was perhaps as young as Rath if not younger.

”First time dropping from space?” The problem with the helmets was that if someone made an expression, nobody would be able to see it. So it might have been a little intimidating, but Rath replied with little expression.

“No.” A turbulence shook the ship as some of the lights dimmed for a moment, but that alone seemed to have stressed the young warrior as he frantically looked around. Gauged each other’s reaction, or what little the lad could see as no one aside from him was worried.

“Relax, it’s just the turbulence. What’s your name.” Rath spoke in a statement, not a question of what the soldier’s name was. Of course Rath’s tone was practically the same as someone with a stoic expression would say.

”R-Rex sir.” Something told Rath that this either was Rex’s first mission, or perhaps Rex just doesn’t like flying. If Rath had to choose either from those poisons, Rath hoped it was the latter.

“I’m Rath Nihro. Stick with the team and you will be fine.” Truthfully Rath didn’t really had any words of encouragement. He never was good with those, but Rath spoke the truth even if he reflected Sergeant Besin’s words to Rex. If anything, it increased Rex’s chance of survival, and perhaps it will keep Rex from doing something reckless.

 

[Lorne Kantera]

​

Location: Inicus Mont, Qina
Tags: Rath Nihro

By the time the band of refugees and their would-be savior had made it halfway back to the cave mouth, the tapping of their insectoid feet and the squeak of Lorne's boots weren't the only sounds echoing through the Cavern of Sanctuary. Something new had joined them, a wet, rubbery flap... scrrrrrape... flap.... scrrrrrape, as if raw meat were being thrown down and then dragged over the stones. Lorne gripped his blaster tighter. He was all for new experiences, but seeing a rakghoul up close wasn't exactly at the top of his list.

He had to believe that this was only a few of them, a pack that had pulled ahead of the others; if the entire horde had arrived, he and the others were well and truly fethed. "We are just simple pilgrims," the Vashan behind him click-wailed, despair evident in its alien voice. "We cannot fight monsters!" "Shut up," Lorne hissed, listening intently. The new sounds were closing in. He could see dark shapes moving at the edge of his glow rod's light, their motions jerky and unnatural. Phlegmy growls echoed out of the shadows. The Vashans whimpered.

The rakghouls burst forward all at once, four of them, their pallid, slimy bodies streaking into the circle of light. They were all coming straight for Lorne, giving him scant seconds to react. He couldn't shoot them all in time. Instinctively he dropped the glow rod, took one step back, and reached for his belt. While his right hand rose, guiding his blaster to put a hole through the lead rakghoul's head with a streak of crimson light, his left closed around a cylinder slightly longer than his fist. Raising it in front of him, he pushed the button.

There was no time to warn the Vashans, but surely they'd rather be hurt but alive than ripped apart. Lorne squeezed his eyes shut.

The flashbang cylinder burst out deafening sound and pulsed with blinding light, so bright that Lorne could see afterimages even through his eyelids. Only the frequency-calibrated sonic dampers in the smuggler's ears kept his eardrums from bursting. Rakghouls howled, and the Vashans screamed in pain and terror. Lorne opened his eyes again. The attacking monsters, their senses overwhelmed at the last moment, had sailed past him. They rolled on the cavern floor, trying to find their feet, wet little mewling sounds coming from their fanged mouths.

Lorne walked over to each one in turn and shot it, two blaster bolts in the chest, one in the head. It paid to make sure.

The Vashans had been a little further away from him than the rakghouls, and their sight and hearing was beginning to return. Lorne had no time to explain or apologize, and they weren't really in any condition to listen anyway. "Let's go!" he shouted, pulling at the closest one's arm and then moving back to the one behind it, steering them all up the steps at the cave entrance. All at once they were outside again, standing on the rocky trail ascending Inicus Mont. A light rain had begun to fall, the cold droplets a shock after the humid heat of the cavern.

In front of them was a scene of horror: hundreds of rakghouls were scaling the mountain's limestone slopes, saliva dripping from their jagged teeth, their filthy claws digging into stone and moss as they climbed. Lorne swore; they were moving fast, on a pace to cut the little band of refugees off before they could reach the Wayward Wyrm and escape. "Come on, move!" he yelled at the Vashans, trying to force the disoriented aliens into a sprint. But there was no way. Even if he left them behind now, the Wyrm was too far to reach in time.

Something caught Lorne's eye, descending from the sky high above. They looked like military gunships - to Lorne, they looked like a chance to survive the next five minutes. He pulled another gadget off his belt and activated it - a bright red flare. He waved the flare over his head, jumping up and down and spinning his arm in circles, trying to drawn the pilots' eyes. "Down here!" he screamed, though there was no way they could hear him. But if they spotted him, if they came his way, they might just arrive in time to keep him from becoming rakghoul bait.

The first mutant poked its head over the lip of the cliff, and Lorne shot it clean off. "C'mon," he hissed. "C'mon, soldier boys."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Autumn’s ball, Maya Kovel
Attire: Elegant dress | Mask | Tiara | Necklace (Shield talisman)
Tag: Kelsen Ghastt | Open

Highness; even she had never called Tacitus like this, she remained much more than the rank and address she was accustomed to in the military. Not mention, she didn’t even have that title, not here only in the CIS, but she was resigned. She was just a regent, even if so many wanted to see her as ruler. It would have been almost a betrayal, but it was not the woman who was the first and only one to call her in that rank. She was just a baroness, that was plenty of her ranks, she wouldn't really need ranks to serve the Eternal Empire.

”You honour me that you think of me as highness, but I am still not the ruler. Only under the law is the regent until the Emperor returns. My rank or address didn’t really change with the regent title. “My Lord,” or the Overlord, is still my address. I am a soldier like you, Admiral.”

She did not say out loud that she hoped that the day would never come when she would have to officially take the place of Tacitus, and not just as a regent to lead the Empire. The situation the woman outlined in her response was terribly familiar to Ingrid. She thought so too, even though she was trained in politics, diplomacy, and the shadow games. But for her, playing it was completely different, with no stakes in it, because it only plays a role, that was a past. But now all her actions have a weight on the state.

”It is fortunate that politics here is mainly about military tasks.”

Like the Moffs, that position in the Eternal Empire is only called a baron, possibly a baroness. She nodded clearly and firmly at the woman's further words. She was sympathetic to the way how the admiral thinking. Based on the files read about her, she thought they were similar and thought similarly anyway, and it meant that they could even be great allies if that happened. And maybe now is the time to do that.

”You also know that during “The Night of Truth,” the Eternal Truth rebel group was able to capture and execute countless military leaders. Countless barons and baronesses fell victim to that night. I’m not going to lie, but you’re on the list of people who are potentially fit to fill one of the vacancies.”

And who receives this honour may have represented in the so-called Senate of the Eternal Empire the planet - in the case of Kalidan, the city - where he/she ruled. There was not much honour in the Eternal Empire, and since they were a militaristic state, it was the greatest honour of a military career.

​

 

[Kelsen Ghastt]

​

Location: Autumn's Ball, Maya Kovel
Tag: Ingrid L'lerim

Kelsen winced at her misstep. She had not meant to call attention to the Emperor's absence, only to show respect. "Please accept my apologies, my lord," she replied, inclining her head since she could not easily bow. "I fully understand your point." Nuances like this were exactly why she was better suited to the battlefield than the negotiation table. Kelsen knew she was an excellent commander, fully capable of finishing a war, but she did not want to accidentally start one. Again she wished she was back on the bridge of the Oath.

The Empress Regent raised a good point, however, in noting that the politics of the Eternal Empire were mostly military matters - at least for the moment. With terrorism and insurgency raging throughout their territory, every decision involved the allocation of troops, supplies, and the heavy hand of Imperial justice. For now, the Empire was relatively isolated from other galactic powers, but given their participation in the wars to the galactic east, there was no telling when outside threats might become a problem as well. There would always be work for her.

As the Regent's words turned to the "Night of Truth" and its consequences, Kelsen listened carefully. She had an inkling from the beginning of where the conversation was going, and it set her heart racing. A farm girl from Timora becoming a Baroness... it was something out of a fantasy holo, one that Kelsen would have laughed at. She didn't have the social graces of those raised in the refined upper classes, no private school education or family connections to support her position. Admiral Ghastt knew destruction far better than administration.

But then, perhaps she would be better at such a role than she thought. As the youngest ever commander of Timora's planetary defenses, she had whipped the frontier militia into effective fighting shape, proving herself to be an able organizer and efficiency expert. What could she do if she were given command of an entire planet? She would need advisors, people who better understood the areas in which her experience was lacking, but if she heeded their advice and used her own natural talents to the fullest... Perhaps that was a role in which she might excel.

"I am honored that you would consider me, my lord," Kelsen replied, bowing her head again. "If such a position is what the Empire requires of me, it would be my privilege to serve." Still, the admiral doubted that any such appointment would come too soon. Her military experience was needed across Imperial territory, hunting down and rooting out the Eclipse Rebellion... along with the criminals profiting from the chaos they caused. The Empire's stability had to be preserved. It was why she had joined the Navy in the first place.

 

[Nikolai Cridu]

​

Location: Quarantined Spaceport, New Rythou, Qina
Tags: Arturo Braga

The currents of the Living Force shifted, and Nikolai Cridu sensed something new. Someone - or rather, a large group of someones - was descending toward the town. At first they were a blur, an indistinct mass of steely resolve and professional detachment, but they resolved into individual shapes as the vessel carrying them drew closer. Nik could feel the drive behind them... and the impending violence. These were hard men, soldiers and mercenaries, accustomed to killing. Yet even they looked down at Qina with apprehension.

They were bringing something with them, he sensed, something that would change New Rythou's destiny.

Nik finished fastening a quick-seal splint around a Rodian man's twisted leg and straightened up, his eyes closed as he looked at a scene that was still far away. He couldn't quite make out the object the men were bringing, but he could see glimpses of the squad themselves - perhaps twenty of them, heavily armed, lethal-looking. If there was anyone on the planet who could cut through the rakghouls beating down the walls of New Rythou Spaceport, it was them. Nik wondered who had sent them; he doubted Qina's government could afford their services.

At the edge of his awareness, the young Jedi felt a pull, a sense of urgency that he had learned to trust. His eyes snapped open, but the direction of the approaching soldiers remained fixed in his mind. Nik walked out of the makeshift infirmary, heading for the landing pad at the edge of the spaceport's electrified perimeter fence. It was probably the only safe place for a shuttle to touch down that was left in New Rythou, so it was a good bet that the incoming squad would land there before deploying to pursue whatever mission had brought them here.

Somehow, though he didn't even know what their mission was, Nik knew that it had to succeed. Unless they accomplished their goal, delivering the destiny-laden object they had brought with them, the last civilian holdouts in New Rythou would be overwhelmed by rakghouls. He was no fighter; he had never killed anything larger than a bug, and could not wield a lightsaber or throw foes around using the raw power of the Force. But his Force-enhanced senses made him an excellent guide, able to navigate where even sophisticated electronics failed.

And he could sense that the deep, dark place these men were about to enter would be a true maze of horrors.

There was no telling what they would think when they touched down and saw him there, dressed in simple civilian clothing and totally unarmed. He was relatively young, not quite thirty, and had none of the discipline or muscle that every last one of the hardened fighters above could boast of. Given all that, and given that he wasn't actually a local, Nik wasn't quite sure how he would convince the soldiers to let him guide them. But he trusted in the Living Force. If this was what he was meant to do, then he would find a way, no matter what it took.

 

[Sanguine Nocturnal]

L O C A T I O N | The ball
O B J E C T I V E | Masquerade
T A G S | Soon.
G E A R | Lightsabers, outfit, mask. ​

She hated events like this, the very smell of that room made Sanguine's stomach wrap, not because of the smell of food but because of the scent of its occupants. All perfumed with exotic essences, all there to lick someone else's boots, all almost begging for her 'Please, Sanguine, pluck our limbs and replace with a tentacle or a Ssi-Ruu's leg.', But how could she be different from any of them? Sanguine was also there to lick boots, a task she did in an almost exemplary way, even better than some nobles of the empire. Her only problem was the new leadership of the Empire, once governed by the meddling dirty man with white hair, they were now governed by the poisoned silk wrist of a woman with red hair, not that she hated red, red was Sanguine's favorite color, a color that involved the best things in the universe for her. (Blood, guts, ketchup, tomato soup, herself and gamorreans after she injected them with the wildboar virus) The problem was that Sanguine wasn't good licking a woman's shoes, women in her opinion were too complicated and too stable to be predicted in a precise calculation.​

Worst of all, she felt little aspiration for more from that young empress and so there was little to offer her new suzerain in exchange for the freedom to conduct her unhealthy (and obviously illegal even for the empire) experiments and research in peace. The department she had been assigned now was hers, the crimson woman called Section XIII, Iscariot, in honor of the name of the godfather she had had many years ago; there were still Barnabas to deal with when the time came and much to covet. .Dressed like a stray dog, ragged and exhaling the scent of morphine, she entered the room with an equally crimson mask, stolen from one of the guests she escorted to the bathroom where she introduced him to Mordante, her assistant. Her vibrant, irrational eyes roamed the room, behind the mask a smile formed.​

Worst of all, she felt little aspiration for more from that young empress and so there was little to offer her new suzerain in exchange for the freedom to conduct her unhealthy (and obviously illegal even for the empire) experiments and research in peace. The department she had been assigned now was hers, the crimson woman called it Section XIII, Iscariot, in honor of the name of the godfather she had had many years ago, there were still Barnabas to deal with when the time came and much to covet. .​

Dressed like a stray dog, ragged and exhaling the scent of morphine, she entered the room with an equally crimson mask, stolen from one of the guests she escorted to the bathroom where she introduced him to Mordant, her assistant. Her vibrant, irrational eyes roamed the room, behind the mask a smile formed. His fingers roamed the veiled lightsaber behind her coat, there was greed in her actions, there was greed embedded in her soul.​

 

[Rath Nihro]

Objective 2: The Plague

Location: Inicus Mont, Qina
Equipment: KC-47 Hybrid Strike Rifle | KC-95 Ace of Spades | Sk-UL MK2 Armor
Tags: Lorne Kantera

”Sir, we got a red flare at three o’clock.” The pilot spoke to Sergeant Besin who stood up and walked to the cockpit. Sure enough there was a smoking red flare and considered the dark lighting it was very apparent. From what could be seen was a single humanoid with a cluster of insectoid creatures at the opening of a cave.

”Get us down there and open the ramps.” Besin ordered, and as the pilot acknowledged the order the ship tilted to fly over to the edge of the cliff. Rex clenched tightly on a handle bar next to his seat as the ship angled. Rath just leaned back as he picked up his rifle and seemed to be unphased from the shift. Honestly, Rath began to wonder how someone like Rex managed to get through the training regiment was beyond him. However if Rex was a good shot then perhaps there was some worth to the young one after all. That’s just a cold hard fact, either they excel expectations and get the ambition to climb through the ranks, or forever be used as a dispensable pawn.

”Alright everyone, listen up. We just got some refugees with a flare so we’re going to pick up as many of them as possible. However the Rakghouls are high on their ass, so the second that ramp goes down I want Private Nihro, Private Blackwood, and Private Strum to disembark with me and provide cover fire for the refugees. Hold the line like the unyielding might we are!” Besin roared the words of encouragement to bolster the morale of the squad. Then the sergeant barked orders for the rest of the squadron to assist any of the refugees in boarding the gunship. Rex released his grip on the handle as he seemed to regain his composure.

”We’re… We’re going to hold the line? Against those monsters?” Rex hesitantly spoke the obvious.

“That’s right. Of course if some get past us, there’s still enough of us in this ship that can deal with them. But if even one gets through it could be the death of another. So let’s just do our best in not letting a single Rakghoul past, alright?” Rath answered the question in hopes that it would dissolve the uncertainty that Rex held within himself. To Rath, this soldier was too green for that kind of job.

The deafening roar of wind blew in from the opened ramp at the rear with Rath, Rex, Besin, and another soldier armed and armored standing with their rifles lowered to the ground. The gunship had spun for the ramp to extend close to the refugees so that they may board, and the sides of the gunship opened up to reveal two troopers on each side as they opened fire against the Rakghoul that climbed over the cliff. Besin and Rath were the first to disembark as they bellowed for the refugees to haste their way to the ship. Turned out they weren’t the only gunship that decided to come down as two more also landed some meters away from each other.

Rath covered the port side of the gunship with Rex who followed after him. A couple of Rakghouls climbed over the cliff and began to sprint to the refugees. Thankfully both Rath and Rex gunned the Rakghouls down before they could snatch their prey. Besin’s side was roughly the same outcome as they worked to keep the swarm at bay. That was of course, until Rex’s rifle suddenly jammed and in the soldier’s rising panic tried to eject the mag.

“Just use your sidearm! Worry about that later.” Rath ordered as he gunned down two more of the Rakghouls, and with a click from his rifle Rath realized that he was out of blaster bolts. Even so, with a toggle of the trigger Rath switched the ammunition to slugs and fired a slug into a charging Rakghoul. Rex hurriedly dropped his rifle and drew out a standard pistol from the holster. It didn’t have as much power with each bolt, but the rate of fire was noticeably higher.

In the midst of the chaos that was ensuing upon the situation, some of the Rakghouls managed to snatch a couple of the refugees before they could escape and were hopelessly dragged off into the dark cave. With the near deafening sounds of gunfire that erupted the night, it was difficult to hear the sickening sounds that followed afterwards in the cave.

 

[Lorne Kantera]

​

Location: Inicus Mont, Qina
Tags: Rath Nihro

Lorne breathed a sigh of relief as the gunships began to descend in his direction; his desperate ploy had worked. He dropped the flare to the ground, freeing his other hand to steady his aim, and kept firing. The Vashans pressed themselves back against the rock face, staying as far back from the monsters scaling the cliffside as they could. Strange little whimper-clicks passed through their mouthparts, and a strange, acidic smell filled the air. Lorne wondered if that was the Vashans' equivalent of wetting themselves. He didn't blame them.

The gunships pulled up along the narrow trail, hovering between the refugees and the oncoming rakghouls. Without a word from the soldiers inside, they lowered their ramps to allow the Vashans to climb on. "Go!" Lorne shouted, waving them forward. "Get those four feet moving!" Aboard the gunships, the soldiers were already beginning to run dry of ammunition; Lorne could see them cycling firing modes or switching to sidearms. And still the rakghouls came on, an unending tide of monstrous flesh, hungry for their blood.

If they'd been facing this horde over open ground, instead of firing down at them, they would already have been overwhelmed.

As the Vashans began climbing aboard the gunships, Lorne accepted that he had gambled a little too much this time, been a little too cocky. There was no way he was getting anyone back to the Wyrm right now, so he wasn't getting paid for the rescue. He wasn't sure if the gunships would take the refugees off-world or not, so maybe he could still get chartered for that, but he wasn't going to count on it. On this run, he'd be lucky to escape with his life. At least it'd make for a damn good cantina story. Might get him a round or two of free drinks.

"Beebo," the smuggler shouted into his comlink, "get the Wyrm out of here and take her into low orbit. I'll send coordinates where you can meet me when we're off this blasted mountain." The droid responded with a long series of harsh whistles and trills. "Yeah, well, you were right, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? This was a bad idea. I admit it. Now get my ship out of here, you jumble of jabbering servos!" Beebo beeped smugly, and then Lorne could hear the Wyrm lifting off in the background. She was safe for now.

While he'd been talking, though, the situation had gone from bad to worse. In the chaos of the firefight, a pack of rakghouls had slipped around the perimeter of gunships, climbing the cliffs above the Cave of Sanctuary to bypass the soldiers and their deadly weapons. Before Lorne even knew what was happening, masses of rubbery flesh jumped down on him and the last two Vashans, smashing them to the rocky ground. Lorne could hear the two Vashans screaming as they were dragged away, back into the cave, but he had problems of his own.

The rakghoul on top of him had hit him from behind, planting its mutated body on his back and trapping his blaster between his chest and the ground. It was surprisingly heavy and muscular for such a rubbery thing, and no matter how he thrashed he couldn't wriggle loose. The thing leaned down and sank its teeth into his shoulder, a certain death sentence one way or another... or it would have been, if not for his armored jacket. The rakghoul's fangs ripped through the leatheris, but stopped dead when they clanged against the ceramite plate inside.

With his left hand, still free while his right was trapped, Lorne reached down and pulled a vibroshiv out of his boot. He toggled the weapon on, tripling its cutting power with the vibration of its razor edge, and plunged it blindly behind him. The knife struck the rakghoul's left leg and bit deep, surprising the creature enough that it let go with its teeth. Lorne managed to get his legs beneath him and kick hard against the ground, throwing his unwanted passenger off. Rolling into a crouch, he found himself staring directly into a slavering maw.

So he calmly raised his blaster and put two shots straight through it. So long, sleemo. And you really were slimy.

Staring back into the cave mouth, Lorne sighed. There was almost certainly nothing he could do for the two Vashans who had been dragged off. The rakghoul plague, he had heard, affected different species differently, and he really didn't want to find out what it did to Vashans - assuming they weren't just killed and eaten. But it seemed too heartless, even for him, to just leave them to a slow death. Tugging a grenade from his belt and priming it, the smuggler tossed it down the steps of the cave. There was a flash, a boom, and the screaming went silent.

Sprinting back to the gunships, Lorne climbed aboard the nearest one. "That's everyone that's left! Let's go!"

 

[Arturo Braga]

Location: New Rythou
Tags: Nikolai Cridu

New Rythou was a mining town; it had been since it's conception over a century ago. Since then, the place had grown, and the locals had seen to tapping some hidden mineral wealth that dwelt far beneath the planet's surface. Great swathes of earth had been excavated over the years, innumerable tunnels bored through rock and compacted dirt, byways to the natural resources just waiting to be had. Dark, dimly-lit places, a great number of them had been abandoned, whilst others had been extended, and, as far as Arturo knew, they continued to grow deeper and deeper with each twist and turn. Perfect, really.

Not really.

The mines were now infested with rakghouls. Thousands upon thousands of them had gathered, creating a sort of colony on top of the dead husk on New Rythou. Milling about below the shuttle as it circled, they gathered in great grotesque clumps, their howls and growls of hunger enough to send a shiver down the mercenary's back. Above the rumble of the shuttle's repulsors, Arturo could practically hear them calling out to him, whispering his name. He grit his teeth, disquieted by the sights and sounds of a town lost to the plague. "Boy, there's a lot of them." One of his men grumbled, the voice quivering everso slightly. "There's more we can't see," another one chimed in, pointing as they circled once more. "Look there! See them?" Peeling his eyes, Arturo followed the finger to watch as more rakghouls appeared from holes in the rock faces to gaze up at the shuttle, adding their own howls to the choir of damned voices.

"So few of us..." One of the ultranauts whispered, joining them by the ramp, "to face so many. How-... How do we defeat them?" He asked. Indeed. How do you defeat so many? Arturo thought, grimacing beneath his helm. "With these." He said after a time, hefting his rifle for all to see, the familiar weight giving heart to his words. "And with that." He turned to point at the small, compact warhead nestled between two of the demolition experts. An unassuming, minuscule thing, it looked to be no bigger than Arturo's arm. Yet, the mercenary and the men handling it knew it to be capable of such unfathomable destruction. In all honesty, it was quite funny. It would've terrified him had he not been so scared already.

"When we touch down, keep your heads. No breaking formation and running off on your own, unless you're looking to die painfully. Stick together, watch each other's backs, and when we engage, watch your ammo. It'll be gone before you know it." Gazing about, Arturo gauged the men as best he could, noting the straight backs and clenched fists. "Clear?" He growled. "Yes, boss!" He got back from his own men. He even got a few 'sirs' from the enlisted men, too.

"Nice speech." The Ettie sergeant said, his voice betraying what he really thought. Paying him no mind, Arturo left his crew to walk to the cockpit, sticking his head in long enough to hear the pilot's verdict. "We'll get swarmed as soon as we touchdown. Landing here won't do." He summed up his report with a shake of his, gesturing out the viewscreen. "There's a small spaceport nearby that might suffice. Reports stated that it was relatively free of hostiles, and mentioned that there were signs of survivors held up there. Whether they're still there is a mystery." Looking up at Arturo, he said, "it's our best bet. And I for one would prefer to keep my bird rakghoul free, thank you."

"All right, then." Arturo said, his thoughts racing. "Let's go take a look."

---

As it turned out, the spaceport was clear of ghouls after all. To a degree, at least. The perimeter fence showed some signs of attack, dead rakghouls lying scattered here and there, little more than specs through his helmet's visor as the world spun around him. They flew from his mind as the pilot -true to his word- swept in low to drop them on a landing pad close to a cluster of buildings. Running down the ramp, Arturo went to a knee as the contractors and mercenaries quickly formed a semi-circle, their blasters leveled. The soldiers followed. Then, the men escorting the bomb.

With one final wave goodbye, the shuttle lifted off, leaving them alone on the landing pad. A figure stood not far away, hard to make out in the near-dark. From what Arturo could make out, the figure was a civilian. Infected? He didn't reckon so. Standing, the mercenary approached the man, his comrades followed close behind.

"Hello?-" He began, a sudden jolt as something struck him on the shoulder cutting him short. Turning his head, Arturo grit his teeth as the sergeant pressed him aside, his blaster raised. "You there! Identify yourself." He came to stop a few from the man Nikolai Cridu , his weapon ready to fire, his voice iron. "Now!"

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Autumn’s ball, Maya Kovel
Attire: Gildenweave Elegant dress | Mask | Tiara | Necklace (Shield talisman)
Tag: Kelsen Ghastt | Open

<”No problem Admiral, I know you are not at home in the noble circles.”>

She tried to reassure the other woman, though in that cold, military voice she might not have succeeded. The point was, Ingrid understood the other, that she didn't have to be so polite, but plenty enough to talk to her military superior. With this, Ingrid was perfectly satisfied in the Eternal Empire. However, an actual noble court was different. It is true that a real noble court within the Eternal Empire was not to be expected, so it was not to be expected of the military to know how to behave there.

Ingrid watched her react to what she had just told her. She remembered how shocked she was when the Emperor again recognized the L’lerim clan as a noble house at Nelvaan and that’s when House L’lerim was founded. The woman opposite her was also very good at hiding her feelings and thoughts, though Ingrid could feel, thanks to the Force, what was turning in the other's head. Of course, nothing concrete, she was not a real telepath, but the strong feelings and thoughts were discernible. Mainly by learning to read in movements and facial expressions as an agent.

<”No need to thank, you accomplished this with your actions and aptitude. Had it not been so, your name would not have come up on behalf of STRATCOM. Expect your appointment in the coming months. This will also happen if the Emperor returns in the meantime. The appointment is independent of his presence.”>

Here she paused for a moment so that she could think through what the Overlord had told her or digest it all. The other woman will probably need a few days. But it is important to note that in the Eternal Empire, merit mattered the most, and the Admiral had quite a few of that.

<”If we talk to each other anyway, I'd be interested in your opinion, Admiral. In which direction do you think we should continue to expand after the accession of these two planets? I wonder what an experienced admiral thinks about this.”>

​

 

[Ben Craig]

Ben Craig
Chairman of the Zweihander Union ; CEO of N&Z Umbrella Corporation ; Director of Advanced Weapons Research​

Location: Autumn’s ball, Maya Kovel
Objective: 1
Dress: Link
Tags: Open

​

The Eternal Empire was one of the Zweihander Union's earliest allies and supporter. Ben Craig had been one of the non-Eternal Empire members to be invited to the ball, and he was rather surprised and impressed that he had been invited. It was interesting that both the Union and the Eternal Empire had new leaders with both former leaders unfortunately "disappearing". While the Union's former leader was intentionally removed, Ben was unsure if the Eternal Empire's was. Nevertheless, the new leader of the Eternal Empire was a cunning and astute woman. Someone Ben had only met once and had a good impression of. He was rather ashamed that his first impression was not a good one.

Wearing his director's military outfit, he passed through security and made his way through the crowds. He smiled and nodded to several Eternal Empire politician and military officers he had met at the previous ball he attended. This would be the first event that he attended as the now leader of the Zweihander Union. Hopefully he would be able to make new friends within the Empire and speak with the Empress and make a better impression. Image was everything afterall.