The Mud Barons - TSE Dominion of Jabiim

[Amaya Cardei]

The clouded skies over Jabiim continued to release the monstrosity it called a storm. From Choal City to the mountain tram, and beyond the battle for the planet continued to rage - block by block, the Sith had more men and more armor in which to subjugate the planet. Hardened resistance fighters refuse to abandon their post and died where they stood, they would not give up their Trade Princes. The Prophet and the General lead the Sith-Imperial Legion's charge into the palace and there they fought in a close-quarters battle. While they had been outnumbered forty to one, the soldiers of Jabiim fought with such a ferocity that the battle would not be forgotten. Even as the last drew breath, the Legionnaires were impressed, guns would draw silent and the Trade Princes would be found.

Taken into Sith-Imperial custody, while along the mountains the tram would move and the intruders were dealt with as it continued along. It would hold, it would because the Lady of Secrets willed it so, demanding the tram to continue until it had reached its destination. The Legionnaires with her fought with every ounce of strength they could muster and were thoroughly exhausted when the tram had pulled into its station. Wounded but not broken, they would take the lessons from the ambush with them into future battles.

Above the palace, the Sith Empire's flag unfurled and its emblem could now be seen from across the city. The Sith Empire had set its boot upon the neck of Jabiim and crushed the resistance. Though it was not without error and the failures here would be used to for knowledge.

[OOC: Feel free to continue your stories!]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Sith Muse"] [member="Darth Thuyrn"]

The reveal of the cloaked enemies meant most of their immediate slaughter by the Sith Legionaries... but there were still some that got their revenge in before their demise. Sergeant Dmitri had just sliced through an enemy boarder when the Sith magic unleashed by Darth Arcanix unveiled an enemy next to him. A vibroblade, drawn out of pure instinct, from one of his comrades went through the newly uncovered enemy... but the Force Sensitive mercenary had the last laugh. The beeping was the only warning they had.

"Grenade!" Westera shouted.

The explosion ripped through the car they were in, shrapnel and flames shredding through the Sith Legionaries. When the smoke cleared, Jansen and some of the others got to their feet, coughing. Others were still, among them Westera. Blood was everywhere, limbs and pieces of armor thrown about. Dmitri groaned from where he lay, it was difficult to breathe and it felt like half of his body was on fire. He couldn't hear anything, his ears ringing still from the blast, but a medic was rushing towards him. Blackness crept at the edges of his vision, the last sight he saw was the squad's medic frantically...

At the front of the train, Taeli unleashed one more sphere of dark side energy and the tram track was clear. The ambush had been defeated, and the tram could continue, but the sitrep she received after was damning... at least for the barons' militiamen. Many had died, a few had been revealed as sleeper agents for the rebels. The Legionaries had suffered minor casualties, but had not escaped unscathed. Sergeant Dmitri, one of Fiolette's original men, had been severely injured by a grenade explosion by their hidden attackers. He and others would be sent back up to the waiting Sith ships for stabilization, but she would tag his name for possible inclusion in OPHION.

"We arrive in Choal City Spaceport in twenty minutes, reports are saying the fighting is nearly done, my Lady," Commander Direli reported. He was bleeding from a gash over the eye, his armor pockmarked by glancing blaster hits. "The barons' are already congratulating over the successful delivery."

"Of course they are," she muttered quietly. "And the survivors of our cloaked enemies from the ambush?"

"Already en-route to Amaltanna, my Lady," Direli stated.

"Excellent."

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

Joycelyn casually raised a hand to her side, fingers splayed. The hyal'hask stopped their advance, looking at each other, at her, and then stopping to a casual stance. Joycelyn herself stepped forward, the tip of her weapon falling low to make it look less threatening. it did, however, not remove any of the threat emanating from the vahlacanthix herself.

"Let me instead rephrase."

She moved over to the chair, having to duck a bit to get under rafters in the ceiling. When she put a hand on the chair, it looked like it belonged to a child. She looked down at it, her eyes narrowing in displeasure. She rested Zaudraka on the table next to her as she made herself as comfortable as possible in the relatively tiny chair.

"Who are you and what is this?"

Her eyes flicked to the steaming cup of brown liquid, to the persons sitting around the table, and finally to the purple man. There, her yellow eyes fixed hard on his red. While she was uncertain and cautious, she showed no sign of fear toward this strange man. Was it some kind of mind trick? Perhaps. Her natural resistance to it made it difficult for her to identify it as well. Then again- She looked down at the tea -Perhaps it was much more simple than that.

 

[Collector]

Objective - 1 b.

The Mad Party

---

---

---

---

​

---

Nearby - [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

His eyes shifted just a moment to the long blade that now rested on the table, a mix of curiosity and perhaps just a hint of recognition made up his countenance before shifting back into that pleasant mask and red met with gold. He sank further into his seat, one leg crossing on top of the other as if he were hosting a get together for old friends rather than a collection of strangers and playthings.

"That is the big question, isn't it?" he mused, head cocking to the side as if he had to ponder the question himself. "I've gone by many names in the past. Curiosity, the Moonweaver. These days, they call me the Collector." Another sip of his drink, was followed by another grand gesture toward the table itself. "And this, unless the term's been lost to the modern world, is what we call a tea party."

"But enough of me. Eat, drink. We're all friends here, no? Tell me more of this nameless figure who joins my table, bearing with them a small entourage and such a curious blade." Once more, red eyes shifted to Zaudraka and then back to its wielder.

"Won't you give me your name?"​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

There was definitely something about this Curiosity, Moonweaver, Collector. She did not trust him, his tea, nor his words. Yet, she knew she could play these games with him, and she could win. He had given her three names.

"I can give you three."

She put her hands on the table and leaned in.

"Élyn Cuiléin" "Joycelyn Zambrano" "Darth Vornskr the Second"

One of her hands touched Zaudraka, not aggressively, but as if she was reassuring it she was there. She did not feel the intense aggression it had against jedi, rather it cared very little for the persons in the room. She let her eyes glide over the other persons in the room before settling on the Collector.

"I am looking for a prince of coin, but you do not look the sort." She leaned an elbow on the table. "So what are you doing here?"

 

[Collector]

Objective - 1 b.

The Mad Party

---

---

​

---

Nearby - [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

"Fair names, all of them. Though a word of advice, from one friend to another." He leaned forward as if to match her own posture. "Names have power, my dear, in both what they grant and inspire. So tell me, what do you hope to inspire in those?"

"Myself, no, that would be a fair assumption. Some of my guests, however." Switching his wine from one hand to the other, the now-free hand moved to pat the shoulder of the man seated next to him. "Unfortunately, I can't say they do much in terms of conversation. Dreadfully boring, really. I myself come and go as I please, to wherever and whatever best suits my collection." His eyes shifted once more, focusing on the blade in her grasp.

"That sword, for example. Tell me, what is it?"

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

[member="Zazrael Lux"]

"Enlightenment"

A singular word with many potential interpretations in this context. She was enlightening him about her position, her disposition, and her connections to dark and sorcerous things one does not readily oppose.

Her hand reflexively closed around Zaudraka when the Collector eyed it so.

"It is a friend." A faint wisp of smoke rose around her hand, curling around her palm as if the sword was gripping her in return. "To lay low those who have wronged me and mine."

Destroyer -The sword almost whispered. It was a blade made, not to build, but to break and cut down. It sought to destroy and ruin a particular group, and it saw kinship and family in the hand that held it. Joycelyn was of the Vahla and of the dark side, and she needed no persuasion to Zaudraka's cause. It only wanted the cause done faster, sooner, now.

"I can tell you about him, if you let me leave with the Prince."

 

[Collector]

"Fascinating."

And it was. The Collector had encountered a Zambrano or two before. Just as he'd known many a Sith in his time. They were often such fun to nurture, to build up above their station. Just as they were such fun to watch burn by their own hand.

"Oh?" A purple brow raised at her explanation and remained raised for her offer. His eyes narrowed a fraction, the muscles around his mouth and forehead tightening a fraction as he focused attention beyond just the passing glance on the blade. Was that? Quite possibly, though he couldn't be certain. If he could touch the blade, perhaps, he'd get a better read on it.

"A tempting offer, certainly, but perhaps imbalanced. What more would you offer?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​