Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Rebellion The Ninn Kaggath | Rebellion of Ninn | WotS vs TSE

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Maestus had been in a quiet place, away from the others on the shuttle. Meditating on the Dark Side, manipulating it in preparation for what was to come. She understood the stakes, the possibility of death. But that thrilled her. Riding the razor's edge.

When they hit the atmospheric turbulence, she went sliding down the durasteel flooring and whacked into a wall. Growling, she sat upright, rubbing one of her Lekku that had been squished against the wall. Able to make it to her feet, she just managed to grab a bar as they started to crash.

After a rough and bumpy landing, Maestus began the arduous task of digging herself out. Pushing debris off her head, she climbs forth from the wreckage, and studies Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis and Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren before leaping down to the join. Catching the tail end of the discussion, she eyed the Master of Ren warily.

 

LEGATE ACTUAL
KNIGHT OF THE EMPIRE
Armour | Lightsaber
Engaging: Irina Volkov
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In orbit were the ruins of the First Crusader Fleet.

The means of the New Imperial Order's observation of the growing Sith force on the edge of the Galaxy. A mingling of numerous Sith that the New Order had long been acquainted with. Their advancement into the Ninn System was a number of moves the Crimson Shadow were thought to make, and when they arrived, Kainan had been one of many that had closed in on the Sith.

At first, it had seemed like the fight would be there's. At least, that's what the simulations had been suggesting.

It took time -- shorter than the New Imperials had hoped -- but the tides changed all the same.

To the wind, the bulk of their forces, but those scattered remained. Among their dwindling numbers, Kainan, newly made Knight of the Empire.

Across his shoulders sat his black cloak, tattered, and little more than rags. Typically pristine gauntlets were caked with grime and blood. Light furrows and gouges -- testaments to the cortosis-weave layered in the armour -- covered his forearms. Plastered on his ebony visage, a placid look as he observed the ruins that dotted the horizon. Fallen ships, Sith and Imperial alike. Were he to heed the intercepted transmissions he had overheard on his commlink, he should've expected to find his saber crossing blades with that of the Sith Empire once again.

Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

The broiling Darkness within craved it.

In the wilting sun, his armour glinted.

In his favoured left, the silver hilt of the Imperial.

Ahead of him, a shrouded form stood on its own.

Boldly, the Youthful Knight approached, clenching on that hilt, as if loosening it by any moment would let it slip from his grasp. Far from home, he was surrounded by enemies, and despite the Codex of his Order teaching a utilitarian point of view, his simple lightsabre was his sole companion on the battlefield. And from underneath that pitch black hood that shrouded his melanin features, his icy blue orbs settled firmly on Irina Volkov.

Distance shortened.

A clash of blades; a glimpse into the future. His thumb brushed over the activation in anticipation, threatening ignition.

From an instant summoning of the Force, it flooded his being, the enhancement almost natural at this moment before he sprung forwards. No matter what the distance, he'd cross it. Resplendent beam of silver plasma sprouting out as he hit the ground, and in that final lurch, he was upon her. The placidity in his gaze speaking to his understanding of the situation as it transformed from apathetic to fierce. It wasn't personal, no matter what his teachings would have him think.

For on this planet, between two different Dark Shadows that sought the same, it was kill or be killed.

 

Objective 3: BYOO
The Blue Crest
Tend To The Wounded...
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It had been quite some time since Asha was last face to face with such blatant horrors. Since the sight of a bloodied battlefield spanned the visible horizon, and the stench of death and decay lingered on the air. It was putrid, all-encompassing, darkness seeped into every imaginable crevice. Like a wave it struck her almost as soon as their ship broke through the atmosphere of the world, and only deepened its grip as the boarding ramp lowered to spit them out into the earth.
She drew inward some, breathing in that sickly air, and did with it what she could to try and ensure continued peace of mind. If she could not remain a bastion of hope within their numbers then what hope would the others have of carrying out the task at hand? This was the first true test of their newly formed organization, it would set precedents and form foundations within. She could not allow them to buckle now due to her own inabilities.
Another intake of breath, and then she glanced over the gathered crew. There weren't too many of them in truth, and only some were familiar to her. Sargon Vynea Sargon Vynea was here, having taken up position of head of the organization at her behest, after all she had much to do within the Je'daii, and Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor had insisted on joining so that he could help defend should things turn awry.
There were multiple other volunteers, some bore the distinct red insignia of galactic medics in a more prominent state than the smaller blue of their organization, others who were not trained for such medical tasks bore their blue insignia in its place. No matter what, everyone who had accompanied them had some universal symbol on their person of aid. They were not here to fight, would not do so unless in defense of themselves. They were here to help, those countless bodies which already lay strewn across the field from former battles, those which had come ahead of the present clashing of heads.
Though Sargon was the head, it was Asha who most that were gathered initially looked to. She had set this up, put the pieces into place, and while in time the Iridonian would take over much of what she was doing today in terms of leadership for now she knew she had to be the one to speak. To set them to the task at hand.
"I thank you all for your service this day... I know that it might be overwhelming right now, to look upon this battlefield and those lay within it. To exist among the chaotic fighting which still ensues. I ask that you all remain strong and composed, for the sake of those we have come to help. If you find yourselves unable to remain in such a state, you are free to take a break. Find your center, and then return once more if you are able."
Her eyes fell upon them each and every one, those she knew, those who were new to her, they were one unit. Together they could do great things, make a difference... This she felt certain of.
"I would once more remind you that we are not here to partake in the battle. There are several among our ranks who are here with the purpose of defending our volunteers should the fighting be brought to our feet, and if you are engaged directly by all means defend yourselves. Just try to remember the cause."

She let out a very soft exhale of breath, steeling her own nerves as she tore her eyes away from the volunteers and to the behemoth task at hand.
"Make use of all the resources we've brought with us today, and stay safe out there..."
Already pre-fab buildings were being put up, medical and supply tents, by some of the volunteers. But much of their work would be done out there in the field, she knew. Most would require immediate attention, could not afford to be brought all the way back here. She could only hope that the universal symbol of their station would be enough to deter most from stopping them in the act. Prone bodies were not capable of fighting, after all, they would pose no threat to either side. They were simply men and women who had done their duty and paid the ultimate price.
But it was Sith they were dealing with. That fact had her more concerned than anything else.
Because oftentimes Sith did not play by the same rules as the rest of the Galaxy.

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Krayzen Dratos Krayzen Dratos Vhondryl Gallaer Kal Kal / Any other Je'daii/Blue Crest folk.​
If you want to join in on our mini-objective feel free. Just tag me so I can keep up to date with posts :)
 
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Tags: none for now, Je'daii.

In the presence of this already devastating battle gave a chilling reminder to the darkness of the galaxy. In a unsettling way the death around him was something that refreshed Varloc. War and fighting seemed to be the only thing Varloc was good at and had any real experience.

Varloc exited the craft he descended in and immediately was hit by the smell of death and smoke, things that Varloc all to well knew. As multiple of his travel mates made them selves useful, Varloc made his way to a high point. From his view the destruction that had already been dealt could be called monstrous, but even that would be a understatement. Two powers were tearing eachother apart, one faction that Varloc years ago would call his brethren, or at another point his enemies. But now he came not to fight, for once in his cursed life.

His purpose here was to help, he would help the wounded, though his healing was limited. But deep down inside he was almost hoping for someone to mess with him, a fight always seemed to relieve the pain, the physical and the mental kind. He looked at his covered forearm, the same place where years before, where his sith Master would slit open his arm for failing a test, or just when he wanted to. After hundreds of times, it never really healed, a reminder of the cruelty of the galaxy.

Tossing away the thoughts Varloc went to help the others, but continuing to keep an eye out, for the a-hole sith.
 

Ashin Cardé Varanin

Couple bodies in the garden where the grass grows

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THE POMOJEMA
DEEP SPACE
Darth Daiara Darth Daiara

"Yes, I suppose it is," Ashin said. "I do have one more principle, you might say: punch up, not down. There's something deeply contemptible about the way the New Order and the Galactic Alliance have combined to crush the Sith Empire relentlessly. Not as contemptible as the Empire's many atrocities and cowardices and petty vanities, of course - but still. This war is no contest of equals. I appreciate an underdog. If not for the Empire's abject and irredeemable worthlessness I'd back it to the hilt."

She smiled thinly.

"I believe the Empire's leaders thought they were seizing the opportunity to punch down for once when they crossed us at Ninn. A planet where we, the Warlords, had just finished crushing our second consecutive New Order incursion. The Sith Empire is by no means the New Order's most committed and promising enemy.

"I won't say we're paragons of honor - but the Warlords have earned my loyalty and respect. I want that authenticity for the ones like you, the next generation doomed to die so the Zambrano cult can perpetrate its last few aimless, flailing genocides for sport."




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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Closed​


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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE

"Thank you for joining me, Darth Daiara Darth Daiara . I'm happy we could handle this face to face."

The cavernous training room stank of smoke and cleaning chemicals. The place had a deep chill, an aura of the Dark Side. Aradia would have trained here more than once.


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Ashin walked up to the central platform, which was large enough for a duel all by itself. Around the platform, steam hissed up from vents fed by alchemical furnaces elsewhere. She wore the sword Jentaral at her hip - her usual daily carry, not an explicit threat or invitation to violence.

"You made the cut to stand among the knights and masters who study in this...non-denominational academy of the Dark Side. You've grown since we met at Lake Krul. And you understand, I'm sure, that my friendship with your first teacher earned you no special consideration. You are here because you deserve it.

"Sadly," she added without the slightest indication of sadness, "other than you, how many of the Zambrano dynasty's loyalists have dared to apply, let alone succeeded? The answer is three, as it happens, none of them currently studying here. At the moment you are the sole representative of the Sith Empire in this academy.

"I'm no ethicist, Aradia, but I do find value in one principle: if an action is contemptible, I generally don't do it. I would submit that the Sith Empire is not good enough for you. Its principles and practices don't deserve your loyalty. Can we discuss?"




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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Closed​


Aradia stood at the edge of the room, not claiming the center of the platform with Ashin. She had no reason to mistrust the woman, even if the two empires did clash lightyears below their feet. The word friend wasn't easily given out by Kaalia, but when it was used, Aradia didn't easily forget it.

It was wise to know who might lend a hand in a world of deadly absolutes. Still, Aradia didn't approach the Sith Lord who had summoned her. The chill of the room reminded her of the secrets she held. She took in a deep breath and listened to the Ashin's address.

"I'm no ethicist, Aradia, but I do find value in one principle: if an action is contemptible, I generally don't do it. I would submit that the Sith Empire is not good enough for you. Its principles and practices don't deserve your loyalty. Can we discuss?"

Her rigid spine slowly released, her hands falling amicably at her side. "Usually it's the Jedi trying to convert me," she mused, no smile on her lips as she looked Ashin over.

A beat.

She tipped her chin and stepped onto the platform. "If I'm a loyalist though, the Empire is screwed." As Darth Pollix could contest... She grimaced and folded her arms around her front. "I'm just trying to keep the keep the Imperials back."

"It's the right thing to do."




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THE POMOJEMA
DEEP SPACE
Darth Daiara Darth Daiara

"Yes, I suppose it is," Ashin said. "I do have one more principle, you might say: punch up, not down. There's something deeply contemptible about the way the New Order and the Galactic Alliance have combined to crush the Sith Empire relentlessly. Not as contemptible as the Empire's many atrocities and cowardices and petty vanities, of course - but still. This war is no contest of equals. I appreciate an underdog. If not for the Empire's abject and irredeemable worthlessness I'd back it to the hilt."

She smiled thinly.

"I believe the Empire's leaders thought they were seizing the opportunity to punch down for once when they crossed us at Ninn. A planet where we, the Warlords, had just finished crushing our second consecutive New Order incursion. The Sith Empire is by no means the New Order's most committed and promising enemy.

"I won't say we're paragons of honor - but the Warlords have earned my loyalty and respect. I want that authenticity for the ones like you, the next generation doomed to die so the Zambrano cult can perpetrate its last few aimless, flailing genocides for sport."





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"Or--" Aradia countered, "The Empire was trying to shore up their territory to prevent the Imperials from cutting the it off at the neck."

She bit her own tongue and considered Ashin. Self-expression wasn't an easy trait for a once-was slave. The Academies certainly hadn't encouraged it either. It was one thing to open up and speak her mind, it was another to disagree with a superior.

Come to think of it, it was easier to duel a jedi than was it was to hold Ashin's gaze and elaborate further. But she did, speaking with slow intention as she explained her perspective.

"They will be back for Ziost. I haven't seen any sign of their resources showing strain, it's unnatural. They want that territory, and if they get it? The rest of the Empire falls dark. All of those worlds--

"Purged."


Her fingers tightened on her arms, her words flowing freer as passion entered her tone. "Ninn would stop that, wouldn't it? They could establish secure trade routes, move troops-- continue to fight back. Which you should want. Master, the more of us there are out there, the safer we are. They're not going to stop at the The Empire. Imagine, the full force of the Imperials and Jedi coming down on your little warlords-"

A short, pained laugh escaped her.

"There's no honor out there."

 
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This all seemed so familiar, almost home in the saddest of ways. He felt comfortable as distant explosions sent plumes of flame into the sky. Far more comfortable then he had hoped he would in truth. The dark side of the force vibrated in the air empowering the combatants as Asha began her speech. She was taking on the role of leadership admirably, and at times he was near bursting with pride for her. Now though his attention was swept away as he let his awareness flow over the battlefield picking up presences in the force, and those in need.

One presence in particular gave him pause as he looked up for a moment. He should have been more surprised, but he wasn't. He'd chosen his fate long ago to be tied into her own, why would that change now. Nodding his head towards the unseen far into the heavens Sargon sent a single message of greetings to Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin My Queen.

Not so long ago they'd worked together to raise her wife, and the trip had cost Sargon more then he'd thought it would. Still he'd have gone even had he known. The effects within him were already waning though as actually doing something to help had brought him great relief. "Sector two has several life signs faltering, lets get a team out there first. Looks like a crashed transport from the earlier battle."

Even as he spoke he had to remind himself he was no general here, and these weren't soldiers. Just volunteers trying to make a difference in a broken galaxy. He glanced over to his left as a team prepared to head out pleased that the battlefield there at least wasn't active yet. Looking back he nodded to Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor their designated security for the operation. He'd heard good things about him, but he did worry the man's reputation would actually bring the problems too them. Everyone liked a challenge.

Taking a few steps over to the holo he watched the Sith ships start to land as the battle began in earnest. The volunteers knew to avoid the battle lines in this engagement a Sith deep into passion had no care for accidental deaths. Still what he wouldn't give some professional soldiers. "Asha, you should stay at camp with Cotan, and if things turn sideways do an old man a favor. Get out."

Krayzen Dratos Krayzen Dratos Vhondryl Gallaer Kal Kal
 

Darth Ananta

Guest
D


Murder.

She could hear it on the breeze, smell it in the air, the wretched scent of iron and the screams of plasma tearing through the sky. If conflict was a storm then Rynn's Hollow was certain to be the wall of the eye - the eerie calm broken by a wave of destruction that would reshape the very planet itself with each clash. The ignoble stares of killing intent were everywhere, a truly fearsome haze that would have been sure to blind an inexperienced wielder of the light with sensory overload, and the sixth sense a wielder of the force might rely on to protect themselves from danger on the approach was muddied and made opaque.

Her trek was slow, deliberate, almost drunken even, with an awkward gait, like she'd been limping or hesitant with each step, that only slowed as a terrible darkness fell not quite so far from them - the arrival of her other half, Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex . She smiled, even as Kainan Kainan neared, and came to a halt. The canvas was no place for an observer to watch a work of art come to life, to see a mural made from the strewn bodies painted over its coarse, gritty, surface. She turned as her silent hunter seemed to catch her unawares, the saber in her hand suddenly igniting as it came up in an arc to parry at his. Long silver strands swung loose at the sides of her head, neck, and shoulders as she allowed the momentum of the blow she caught to carry her several feet back, but the face it framed was far from drained - life was still in those corrupt eyes, serpentine though they may be.


"May the afterlife have mercy on your soul."

Her words were soft, if not pitched high, as color began to drain from the corners of their world.

"Because I have none to spare."
 

Ashin Cardé Varanin

Couple bodies in the garden where the grass grows

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THE POMOJEMA
DEEP SPACE

"What I should want, hmm? Understand, Aradia, there's no circumstance where I'd piss on the Sith Empire leadership if it was on fire. I hold contempt for the New Order as well, for their stupid waste and hypocrisy and most of all getting my wife killed, but the Sith Empire is who actually killed her. These are many of the same core people who served the One Sith - who turned a blind eye when their lords kidnapped and tortured Spencer. There was betrayal, both then and thirty years ago. It's all the same cadre, all the same faces, convincing the best and the brightest of each generation to waste themselves. Their best interests are not yours."

Ashin spread her hands in a disarming kind of way.

"But let's focus on what matters to you: defeating the New Imperial Order. Let's consider Ninn a microcosm of everything wrong with the Empire, and why I believe you'd find more success with us.

"The Empire
moved to take control of Ninn through economic talks - veiled pillaging to feed the war machine and the next great Zambrano palace.

"Meanwhile, our forces - the 'little Warlords,' as you put it -
defeated a major New Order incursion both groundside and in orbit. We beat them in two more engagements at Brosi just before that. I'll always remember taking and holding the Nihun Bridge as real Sith Lords drove back the Imperial Knights. In a couple of weeks, we've had more solid victories against the New Order than the Empire's past year. Why? Because the leaders you follow are clinging to their thrones for a little reprieve before they're average Sith again. And they will throw your life away for that reprieve."


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Vhondryl Gallaer

Guest
V
B L U E_C R E S T
If it wasn't one thing it was another.
Vhondryl only learned one thing, two things really, war was war and chaos was chaos and of the two war was the worst. Those who went to chaos deserved to be there, war? War was chock full of innocents who didn't need to be caught up in the crossfire. Vhondryl knew a thing or two about getting caught in the crossfire. Her homeworld was right in the Brynadul's line of sight and made orphans out of her and her sister, refugees who ended up on a transport bound for the First Order.
Not that she didn't appreciate the helping hand, it just wasn't how anyone thought things were going to pan out. Vhon's reasonings for being out here were mostly to repay the generosity showed to her and her sister Ariadne Gallaer and the set up of Mynock Distribution and Transport was perfect. A company that was here to help others, and so she cast a leary gaze toward Krayzen Dratos Krayzen Dratos the Imperial Knight who had elected on their own to show up to help.
Help those who called Ninn home and were now suddenly caught up in a rebellion between two warring Sith powers. Sith. Sith were no better than the Brynadul, but her job wasn't here to cross blaster and blades with them. Vhon's purpose was to get the innocents off this kriffing-netherhole and somewhere safe. The call of war was beyond them for now, but the way the Sith were landing troops and acolytes, it was only a matter of time.
"Avoid the broody glowstick brigade and get the civilians out of here, got it."
 

Darth Maleva

Guest
D


Pale fingers trailed along the plating of the onyx armor. Her thoughts raced as she waited on the bridge. At one time, she would of feared the might of the Sith Empire; a sith only lives as long as Maleva had by knowing the limits to their own power. No more was the case. Their strength waned as the Imperial dogs rose up against them, and they to even muster the grit to defeat their rebellion. The naïve idealism that their empire would stand despite all indications it had begun to crumble spoke volumes of their true nature. Pride was the downfall of many a once great Sith, and it would be no different for the nation that challenged the Warlords today. The Sith Lord had bided her time, waiting for the call. It was never more welcome than it was today, as the Dark Sovereign's orders had cut through the boredom that held her hostage. Her anger and disgust were reignited in a deadly combination. It was almost adorable they had come to move against the growing might of the Warlord's. Perhaps they wished to prove themselves; but they had already failed. The new era would be ushered in as the Warlord's proved that to them today; the darkside willed it.

"The shuttle is ready." The officer behind her stated.

A cruel smile danced across her face. Golden orbs looked to the fellow Sith Lord beside her.

"Let us not waste time." She purred to him.

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The smell of death hung heavy in the air, yet it's presence was even stronger in the force. Through the pain and suffering, the darkness grew. Though turbulent to navigate, Maleva's centuries of practice prepared her. As she exited the shuttle, she could hear the cries and blaster fire rang for miles through the plains. The small hill they stood upon overlooked the raging battle. Flurries of scarlet plasma and chalky duraplast, deadly dances between foes. It had been far longer than she intended since she had last seen real battle, yet the high was still just as intoxicating as her first, so long ago.

She turned away from the bewitching sight, gaze finding Luminoth instead. A rogue thought filled with worry crept in, yet she shoved it out in the same motion. She enjoyed his presence, and cared for him; the passion that stemmed from that left her stronger. Maleva expected him to know how to handle himself, and though it would pain her if he couldn't, it was the way of the sith- the weak fell to the strong. Her lingering stare fell away, instead turning on her heel. No words were needed as she began the descent towards the clash.
 



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S H O W S T O P P E R
NINN
RIFLE | VAMBRACES | LIGHTSABER | JETPACK
TO ENGAGE: Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze
ALLIES: Rynn Vizsla Rynn Vizsla
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The path forward had been fully exposed to the light.

The Mandalorian's subsequent goal to vanquish the Sith had always stuck with Jair, from his introduction to the culture to the present day. However, his personal motivation to stop the terror that the Sith spread with every inch of territory they cross had begun to take shape decades before. From adolescence, he had been taught by his past Jedi peers what true evils the Sith sought out to spread. Even with his change of allegiance, the sentiment still remained the same.

Before the gathering of the Sith on Ninn, the Death Watch and their Crusaders that he stood alongside had fought against the Jedi on Tython. It was a mere distraction from the true goal and it proved great as a place to rearm. It had been the first time Jair had fought Jedi after his fall from grace, and it served as a perfect wake-up call that his skills weren't as up to par as he believed. His lightsaber combat was still sloppy at best due to years of not training with it, and his reaction to Force-based attacks was simply too slow to ever go head to head with someone who had meddled in the Force every single day of their lives. He would never touch the Force again for his own reasons, but he needed to prove that he would be ready to best any Force User capable of brandishing a weapon against him and his brothers.

Rumors fell throughout the Death Watch Crusade about a large gathering of Sith on a planet he had never heard of. The reason for which they were gathering remained unknown, but known to all of the Crusaders was the fact the opportunity was perfect to line up attacks against the Sith. They spent no time in preparing their own assault, and with them stood Jair also preparing. He wanted to be back into the action once again. He needed to show the Sith what they deserved. He wasted no time in getting ready.


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The Mandalorian looked at all of the gear that was laid out on the table and took a deep breath. Each individual weapon had been clean and cleared for battle before the battle, but he took one last look to verify. He picked up the weapons and inspected them, making sure they were truly perfect, and each piece of hardware passed their inspection. He began to put his gear back into place, grabbing his lightsaber too and clipping it onto his belt without hesitation. Tython showed him that being prepared was the thing that counts, so he made sure to repeat as before.

Soon, the signal sounding the time for the attack was engaged. Jair along with his Crusader brethren stood overjoyed at the sight of the action, and he stood at the heart of the charge ready to attack the main front. The war of attrition between the Sith and the Mandalorians had been ongoing for centuries, but it would see a major win this day. As the assault ramp touched down to the surface of Ninn, the Mandalorian did not look back. To his past, to his brothers, none of it he looked back to.

Because the only way necessary was forward.


 
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Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
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Location: Halfway to the spaceport, Ninn
Objective II.: IN THE STORM OF DURASTEEL
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Rynn Vizsla Rynn Vizsla | Romund Sro Romund Sro
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The city, somewhere halfway between the city and the spaceport, was the place where the red-haired woman landed. The fights are mainly around the spaceport. Saw streets where the fight was going on endlessly. On the ground she saw countless Sith and their soldiers, and those who fought against both sides. The enemies of the Sith also seemed to have found this place and had given their intention to take advantage of the fighting. Clever! The woman would not have chosen a better timing to this attack as a soldier.

She saw Mandalorian warriors in the sky; she had had several clashes with these, having fought them before. The blood of one of Alors, one of the clan leaders dried on the woman's hands, she executed, killed the man herself during their great fight on Mandalore, when the TSE lost that planet last time. To tell the truth, she respected their culture; just as any other warrior cultures in general, since she also came from one of these. Such an opponent is always worthy to be good to deal with.

For the time being, she was walking completely invisibly on the street among the fighters, hiding her presence in the Force, so she could not be seen or perceived with technology, eyes or with the Force. The perfect disguise for an assassin. The invisible death who walks among the warriors and soldiers, brings death in such a way that almost no one perceives it, nothing. But now she had not yet found any opponent who would have suited her, who would have been worthy.

After a good few minutes walking down the street, following the suggestion of the Force -which is ironic since the woman had an inheritance from the Emperor that one day she had to destroy the Force - she first found a Mandalorian, Rynn Vizsla Rynn Vizsla , he was the to whom the Force led the woman, and a few moments later she noticed an enemy Sith too, Romund Sro Romund Sro . Two opponents?

This day seemed more and more interesting…

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LEGATE ACTUAL
KNIGHT OF THE EMPIRE
Armour | Lightsaber
Engaging: Irina Volkov
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His upper lip raised into a sneer when her blade sparked to life and caught his initial attack. The suddenness of his attack forced her to react, her previously concealed hair falling out of place and out of her hood. A singular dark brow, carefully crafted over his eye, raised. An elderly? Kainan thought, as those corrupted eyes stared back at him. Pale blue orbs shot daggers at the woman as she slid back from him. If he could with a look alone, he would've frozen her on the spot, for those pale blue eyes possessed a frigidness that rivaled the frozen oceans of Hoth.

And now that he earned a moment to eye the shrouded being, he took in all that he could.

Small. Undoubtedly fast. A rival to my own speed? His nostrils flared in anticipation.

Around the hilt his hand flexed as the Sith spoke.

"You can't kill..."

He answered drily, the voice emanating from his own hood youthful.

How many of the Sith's ilk had he slain to get where he was at now? Bastion? The number was countless. Brosi? The Sith numbers dwindled wherever the New Order had sent him. This Sith may have been greater than him, or she would die like the other Sith he had come across. But the stories of these great Sith rarely ended with death.

"A weapon," he finished.

Lurching forwards at her, he spun in a full 360. His saber spinning around with him, coupled with the gathered momentum and gravity bringing down his saber, he sought to effectively crush her via his superior physical strength.
 
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There is a time in which many men, would falter. Many would find daunting or fearful of any situation. No man could truly be without fear. Fear even in the smallest forms can be a powerful tool. Fear can drive many to actions they would otherwise not take. It was this fear, a singular emotion upon which many can draw from, that Vora Kaar, the Dark Sovereign of Strength, Rage, and Hatred found himself being witness to. The black clad man was known among the Warlords and even those of the three Dark Sovereigns to be held back in his appearances. Rarely showing himself to others. Vora only gave this presence as a gift. A chance to be in view of a man who could channel hatred, fear, rage in such a fashion, it made any others seem like a child's tantrum.

The sight of so many Imperial Sith Vessels within the sky, a visage of the kind of threat the Warlords faced, was only a testament to how the Empire FEARED this splinter cell of Sith. Attacking the Warlords of the Sith at a point when they would otherwise be downtroden. To attempt a strike when the Warlords could be at their weakest. Already facing off against the forces of the New Imperial Order's Imperial Knights. Vora smiled brightly underneath his dark dome. Seeing a particular ship just outside the veil of the planet's atmosphere. It made no mistake of who was here.

"The Great One."

A self-imposed title of a lord who by all rights, was removed from his throne of fear. It was his "Rule of Order" that had been a catalyst for so much of Vora's exploits. Joining the Keepers of the Sith, The New Imperial Order, fighting alongside would be enemies for the spite of this Ex-Emperor of the Sith Empire. It was not unknown to Vora that this man has removed himself to have an Eternal Rule. One that was very... copy and paste of Darth Sidious and Vitiate, Valkorion, Tenebrae. Proclaiming himself to be an Eternal Emperor of a sorts. All the Dark Sovereign could do was chuckle loudly as a shower of metal and flesh came down from the heavens. It was not mistakeable that this man wished to come to the surface of Ninn for the explicit purpose of taking it over for his Empire. Using it for his own design.

Oh did Vora wish to face this himself. Chuckling, Cackling, Laughing in the face of this imposed great one. As though his titles have not come from the imagination of a Pureblood Child. It would not be difficult to find where he landed. In fact, it seemed as though it were the fate of the force that these two individuals who had left the Sith Empire, making their own Kingdoms of the Sith, be the ones to face each other.

Many of the natives that would be near a vessel that fell down to the celestial planet of Ninn, found themselves ripped away in a sudden exertion of the force. An unknown ability. Able to rip the force from beings? As if that had not been done before. One more, a man who reached for the stars. Attempting to control all, would often find themselves stumbling after a simple piece of straw.

Impressive it may be to exert one's will over the force, yet it seemed to only be an act of power. Wishing to impose fear upon those who saw these darkened warriors expose themselves. This fear, this hatred, this rampant and uncontrollable emotions empowered Vora. Feasting upon them as this "Great One" exposed himself to the light of the sun. This power was drawn upon. With ease, this Sphere of Power reached out with a single hand. A twist would reveal great pain to all of the Eternal's Sith Warriors. Inflicting them with the darkness of the force itself. Ripping them as if each one were being pulled in multiple directions. Every particle of a being shredded. Turning to Ash as they drew close to the Dark Lord. If this Eternal Emperor wanted this planet, then he very well will have to fight for it.

"Exposing your face after so long in the shadows? Must be the second coming of the Sith'ari! Though, which version of this proclaimed god are you? Dread Ascendency? Sith Empire? Sith Eternal? Brotherhood? Sorry, Confused on your legitimacy."

 


He could not feel his hand wrap around warm flesh, he could not feel the windpipe squeeze and collapse within his grasp, nor could he feel the futile struggle of balled fists slamming against the arm connected to his constricting fingers. He could only observe with cold indifference as the man sputtered and gasped for air, his legs kicking wildly as blood rushed to his face in a flush of purple discoloration. Without much effort, he could have applied more pressure and broke the man's neck as easily as he would have struck down an insect.
But instead, he watched the man suffer and writhe.
So easily was a life taken by his whim, so readily was death delivered. Whatever they had done in life and whatever they had planned for their futures played no part in how they came to this sickly end. They were mere victims enthralled by the arbitrary cruelty of a mad tyrant.
The man took his final breath and then fell limp, arms and legs dangling freely from a body that could no longer move them. Dark power seeped into the man as the last vestiges of life faded away from him, tearing all that he had been and all that he would ever be screaming from the edge of oblivion and up through the arm which had so callously taken his life. Skin melted away as bone turned brittle and fell away into dust. Tendrils of green energy vacated the crumbling body through the eyes and mouth, drawn towards the dark being which still held the body in its iron clutches.
All that remained was dust and scraps of desiccated cloth.
Carnifex breathed out slowly, quickly parceling through the absorbed thoughts, experiences, and memories of the man he had so ruthlessly ended. He disseminated through an entire lifetime in the span of a few seconds; childhood, adolescence, adulthood, and finally the convulsing vestiges of middle-age in which the man had lost his life by his hand. Every nostalgic memory, every fond recollection, and every embarrassment passed through his mind in seeming unintelligible flashes. Carnifex discarded them all, finding that the man's life had been woefully mundane and was not worth remembering. Such was the fate of most who were absorbed by the Lich-Lord of the Sith.
The self-proclaimed Sith'ari.
The Great One.
The Black Iron Tyrant.
He glanced down at his hand, the one he had used to throttle the life from the man. He flexed each individual digit, clutching his hand into a fist before he let his arm fall back to his side. It was a meager scrap of Living Force, but it would suffice. The total sum of this world was paltry in comparison to his previous feasts but substantial enough to constitute his arrival. Had this world possessed more people than it currently did, he would have dispatched the cultists of the Eclipse to rot the world from the inside out, weakening the planet in preparation for his arrival much as he did on Elrood and Bespin. The warfare between the Sith Empire and Voyance's sycophants was enough to cause enough chaos was it stood, and there had been no need to lay such meticulous groundwork.
"Exposing your face after so long in the shadows? Must be the second coming of the Sith'ari! Though, which version of this proclaimed god are you? Dread Ascendency? Sith Empire? Sith Eternal? Brotherhood? Sorry, Confused on your legitimacy."
Carnifex inclined his head towards the voice, catching the sight of the masked warrior from the periphery of his eye. He did not recognize the warrior, but that wasn't unexpected in a galaxy this large and with how removed from mainstream politics he had become since he had departed his throne for greater things. Another one who had blinded themselves with Voyance's lies no doubt, there seemed to be no shortage of those who contented themselves by following another's lead.
He turned to now face this masked man, the full weight of his gaze descending upon him without distraction. His eyes could peer beyond the composite construction of the helmet to look upon the face of the man who stood before him, to peer into his eyes; one emerald and the other sapphire, as if there was nothing standing between them but open air.
Carnifex reached up to the hem of his hood and pulled it back, revealing the half-helm he wore over his face in the visage of a skull. The helmet absorbed and magnified the negative energy in the environment, allowing the wearer to access the energy like he would electricity or heat. His arrival notwithstanding, Ninn was practically bathed in negative energy from one pole to the other. The air literally brimmed with dark energy, random discharges of electrical energy sending sparks flying through the odorous sky. It was particularly concentrated around him, though there were other convergences which rivaled or even exceeded the darkness which coalesced in this spot.
And as the Lich-Lord peered past the dark warrior's mask, a womanly voice whispered a name from the darkest aether of the Force. It was the voice of the Eye, who in her power could peer deep into the past, present, and future of the Cosmic Force. Though the future was shifting, ever-changing, the past was solid and still. She had seen this face, seen where it had once been and all the steps which led it to this point in time.
The convergence of so many shatterpoints.
"Vora..." spoke Carnifex after a fashion, his voice methodical in pronunciation as if he was testing the word's authenticity. "Kaar."
There, he had it now. "Vora Kaar," he repeated.
"Vora Kaar," and once more with firm resolution.
Without warning, a massive sword burst free from the cover of a nearby structure and raced towards Vora Kaar's body. The blade was very large, nearly as long as Vora Kaar was tall, and was inscribed with geometric runes along the flat. It moved guided by an insidious will, dark power suffusing every molecule and driving it towards brutality and violence. It cut a terrible swath through the air, blade angled to bisect Vora Kaar from his left shoulder to his right hip in one clean swipe.
Carnifex only watched, face impassive, as his weapon danced to the tune of his willpower.

 
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A staredown. One that could only allow transmission of thoughts, emotions, and rampant energies of the force flow through the two of them. Any words spoken towards this Sith were left in the dust. All expected of an individual who believed themselves to be a god among all. Claiming a secondary title of one that is above all in a different tongue. It was expected for one to figure the name of Vora. A moniker in which he had held for years now. However, to see a mask covering the man's face, one that seemed to give knowledge purveying the battle between these two? It was clear he drew power from many sources.

It was strange to see that a sword summoned from the thickened air around the individual, was shot out towards Vora. It seems that while he was a man who enjoyed a nice blade or sword, he wasn't the only one who could summon a blade to him. A greatswords construction. Built to remove limbs and heads with ease came down upon him within the distance between the two. Being of its master's calling that it moved, Vora took no action to control the blade. Rather would act to prevent it from reaching him.

A red Halo wrapped around the man's wrist and upper arm. Runes floating around his armorweave with twisting motions. Flowing with his wrist and open palm. Creating a field of frozen air around the leviathanistic blade. Knowledge of moving objects through the force was a past time of the Sovereign's. An open sigh echoed with metallic rings of his own helmet. While the Ex-Emperor may have been able to deduce who Vora was by signature of the force alone, the man would not find purchase within the mind. A feat that Vora knew that only the strongest could bypass.

The utterance of Vora's name just left the man there without much to say. Just retorting back at the proclaimed fame.

"Carnifex."

It was a given. Names mean nothing. They can be changed, molded, created, or self imposed upon one's self. Vora's own name was such. True history of the man that would be, is not for anyone to take. Let alone a man who abdicated his throne to a child. Steps, easy sauntering paces set forth towards the tyrant. Drawing a forcesaber. The cruciform shape of the weapon, owing to many swords of old that were once held by many cultures. The crackling blade erupted with a wroth into the air. Vora could feel the flooding of his veins. Pain, hatred, agony pierced his very shell. Allowing Vora to draw from yet another source of power. Much like this Eternal entity.

"I invoke the ritual of a Kaggath."

Closing the distance between the two, Vora sought to face the man head on. While the Great One may believe Vora a follower of any individual, He would be wrong to assume such. Vora needed no Warlord. No Order of the Few. Vora needed only himself to challenge this being. Vora wanted to incite the very code that this man should beholden too. One that would end with Carnifex's name rewritten to never be spoken again. So that this false god would no longer be slandering the throne of any who call themselves a Sith.


 
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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Closed​


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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE

"Thank you for joining me, Darth Daiara Darth Daiara . I'm happy we could handle this face to face."

The cavernous training room stank of smoke and cleaning chemicals. The place had a deep chill, an aura of the Dark Side. Aradia would have trained here more than once.


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Ashin walked up to the central platform, which was large enough for a duel all by itself. Around the platform, steam hissed up from vents fed by alchemical furnaces elsewhere. She wore the sword Jentaral at her hip - her usual daily carry, not an explicit threat or invitation to violence.

"You made the cut to stand among the knights and masters who study in this...non-denominational academy of the Dark Side. You've grown since we met at Lake Krul. And you understand, I'm sure, that my friendship with your first teacher earned you no special consideration. You are here because you deserve it.

"Sadly," she added without the slightest indication of sadness, "other than you, how many of the Zambrano dynasty's loyalists have dared to apply, let alone succeeded? The answer is three, as it happens, none of them currently studying here. At the moment you are the sole representative of the Sith Empire in this academy.

"I'm no ethicist, Aradia, but I do find value in one principle: if an action is contemptible, I generally don't do it. I would submit that the Sith Empire is not good enough for you. Its principles and practices don't deserve your loyalty. Can we discuss?"




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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Closed​


Aradia stood at the edge of the room, not claiming the center of the platform with Ashin. She had no reason to mistrust the woman, even if the two empires did clash lightyears below their feet. The word friend wasn't easily given out by Kaalia, but when it was used, Aradia didn't easily forget it.

It was wise to know who might lend a hand in a world of deadly absolutes. Still, Aradia didn't approach the Sith Lord who had summoned her. The chill of the room reminded her of the secrets she held. She took in a deep breath and listened to the Ashin's address.

"I'm no ethicist, Aradia, but I do find value in one principle: if an action is contemptible, I generally don't do it. I would submit that the Sith Empire is not good enough for you. Its principles and practices don't deserve your loyalty. Can we discuss?"

Her rigid spine slowly released, her hands falling amicably at her side. "Usually it's the Jedi trying to convert me," she mused, no smile on her lips as she looked Ashin over.

A beat.

She tipped her chin and stepped onto the platform. "If I'm a loyalist though, the Empire is screwed." As Darth Pollix could contest... She grimaced and folded her arms around her front. "I'm just trying to keep the keep the Imperials back."

"It's the right thing to do."




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THE POMOJEMA
DEEP SPACE
Darth Daiara Darth Daiara

"Yes, I suppose it is," Ashin said. "I do have one more principle, you might say: punch up, not down. There's something deeply contemptible about the way the New Order and the Galactic Alliance have combined to crush the Sith Empire relentlessly. Not as contemptible as the Empire's many atrocities and cowardices and petty vanities, of course - but still. This war is no contest of equals. I appreciate an underdog. If not for the Empire's abject and irredeemable worthlessness I'd back it to the hilt."

She smiled thinly.

"I believe the Empire's leaders thought they were seizing the opportunity to punch down for once when they crossed us at Ninn. A planet where we, the Warlords, had just finished crushing our second consecutive New Order incursion. The Sith Empire is by no means the New Order's most committed and promising enemy.

"I won't say we're paragons of honor - but the Warlords have earned my loyalty and respect. I want that authenticity for the ones like you, the next generation doomed to die so the Zambrano cult can perpetrate its last few aimless, flailing genocides for sport."





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THE POMOJEMA
MOBILE SITH ACADEMY OF HIGHER LEARNING
DEEP SPACE
Ashin Cardé Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin | Closed​


"Or--" Aradia countered, "The Empire was trying to shore up their territory to prevent the Imperials from cutting the it off at the neck."

She bit her own tongue and considered Ashin. Self-expression wasn't an easy trait for a once-was slave. The Academies certainly hadn't encouraged it either. It was one thing to open up and speak her mind, it was another to disagree with a superior.

Come to think of it, it was easier to duel a jedi than was it was to hold Ashin's gaze and elaborate further. But she did, speaking with slow intention as she explained her perspective.

"They will be back for Ziost. I haven't seen any sign of their resources showing strain, it's unnatural. They want that territory, and if they get it? The rest of the Empire falls dark. All of those worlds--

"Purged."


Her fingers tightened on her arms, her words flowing freer as passion entered her tone. "Ninn would stop that, wouldn't it? They could establish secure trade routes, move troops-- continue to fight back. Which you should want. Master, the more of us there are out there, the safer we are. They're not going to stop at the The Empire. Imagine, the full force of the Imperials and Jedi coming down on your little warlords-"

A short, pained laugh escaped her.

"There's no honor out there."


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THE POMOJEMA
DEEP SPACE

"What I should want, hmm? Understand, Aradia, there's no circumstance where I'd piss on the Sith Empire leadership if it was on fire. I hold contempt for the New Order as well, for their stupid waste and hypocrisy and most of all getting my wife killed, but the Sith Empire is who actually killed her. These are many of the same core people who served the One Sith - who turned a blind eye when their lords kidnapped and tortured Spencer. There was betrayal, both then and thirty years ago. It's all the same cadre, all the same faces, convincing the best and the brightest of each generation to waste themselves. Their best interests are not yours."

Ashin spread her hands in a disarming kind of way.

"But let's focus on what matters to you: defeating the New Imperial Order. Let's consider Ninn a microcosm of everything wrong with the Empire, and why I believe you'd find more success with us.

"The Empire
moved to take control of Ninn through economic talks - veiled pillaging to feed the war machine and the next great Zambrano palace.

"Meanwhile, our forces - the 'little Warlords,' as you put it -
defeated a major New Order incursion both groundside and in orbit. We beat them in two more engagements at Brosi just before that. I'll always remember taking and holding the Nihun Bridge as real Sith Lords drove back the Imperial Knights. In a couple of weeks, we've had more solid victories against the New Order than the Empire's past year. Why? Because the leaders you follow are clinging to their thrones for a little reprieve before they're average Sith again. And they will throw your life away for that reprieve."


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"Meanwhile, our forces - the 'little Warlords,' as you put it"
-- Aradia grimaced, shifting her weight onto her back leg. She opted to fall silent, half absorbed with facts she hadn't known and half enticed, yes, with the news the Imperials were being beaten back.

"...I dont care about the Empire," she finally stated, her voice nearly hushed. She might not be a loyalist now, but she had been raised as one-- schooled as one. She did not find it so easy to out right disown the entity that had once made up her whole world. "I know it's flawed. I know it'd sooner step on my back to keep ahead.

"I understand how this works."


She looked around them, then stepped forward again, confiding, "They don't have my loyalty anymore. But I don't see how that changes anything. Tell me, you've seen empires fall before. What will those nations do once they've won?"

 
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Location: Crashed Warlords Warship, Ninn
Objective: In the Storm of Durasteel
Allies: TSE
Enemies: WotS (Apkari)

Red-armored forms were hunched over in prayer in the field of crashed Star Destroyers, the strand-cast soldiers of the Great One readying themselves for the ritual of war, one to be waged against yet more legions of heretic Sith. The low, yet harmonious voice of a Prophet of Eternal Rule led them in prayer, singing of salvation, rebirth, the Dark, and the perfection of his Eternal Will.

Just as the Eternal Lord had led the Sith to greatness, he would soon cast them into oblivion, there to be raised towards heights previously inconceivable.

As the Prophet finished his prayer, the man called forth to the congregation of soldiers, beseeching them to fight for his Eclipsing Mission and the salvation that awaited the servants of the Great One.

“Brothers, sisters, and children of our Eternal Lord, we are called to make manifest his Eclipsing Mission! Our industry will see to his ascension over the stars, but this will not come without collective struggle and sacrifice. These heretics we face today may march under the same banner, but they fight for their own ambitions, as a divided force. We will expose the weakness of their pride and show them our collective strength, together! May His Will Eclipse the Stars!”

Standing among her brothers and sisters, UX-0626 raised her arm in salute to the Prophet’s message, then moved to ready herself for battle after the group was dismissed. Her helmet was sealed over her cyan hair, the red mask presenting a faceless image to the outside world as her HUD illuminated itself in front of her eyes. Then, 626 pulled the pulse cannon from the magnetic point on her back, giving the weapon one last check before joining her comrades in moving towards the wreck of the downed battlecruiser where heretic legions had already been engaged.

It was only moments until they made contact with enemy forces at the opposite end of the crater. Upon seeing them, 626 acted immediately, utilizing her pulse cannon to rain down precise fire upon the enemy in order to cover the entrance of her brothers and sisters into the downed vessel. Three bolts of burning fusion plasma were cast forth from her weapon, each aimed for three different targets. When the last of her comrades entered the mangled husk of the battlecruiser, 626 activated her energy shield and followed them inside, there to meet the enemy face to face.


 

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OBJECTIVE 1: THE NINN KAGGATH​
Location: At the front, Engaging Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru
Called Targets: Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru [Open to Additional Opponents As well]​
Allies In Vicinity: Sith Warlords​

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The red blade erupted from within the Sith Imperial Trooper, bursting through the carapace of his back armor. The Trooper had misjudged the draw distance between him and the blurred vision of Darth Voyance’s Force sped assault. She had lunged past his levelling blaster rifle and come in close to impale him with the ignited first blade of her double-sided lightsaber. Before he could register what had happened to him, she had fled his position and in the same blur that doomed him met his companion trooper in a swiping slash that severed both his forearms from his body. A lateral swipe decapitated him and Voyance vanished again. The only evidence of her presence was the dirt kicked up from her powered steps and the corpse she left behind. The battle around her was brutal and sodden with blaster fire and explosions. Voyance, with her speed targeted the vanguard of the advancing Sith looking to cut an opening for her Red Son Battle Chapter Troopers to rush.​

A sudden stray laser cannon round from a landing Sith Gunship consumed the wreckage of a downed Imperial starfighter, lighting it’s still running power reactor. The starfighter exploded right beside Voyance and threw her into the air. Flying through the air, Voyance retracted her limbs and used the Force to spin herself into a controlled fall as she spiralled back down into a crouching landing. She looked up and pointed to a nearby Red Son. “The rocket launchers! Set up kill zones behind rubble and down those turrets!” Voyance screamed. The Red Son nodded and rushed to his Chapter Platoon, shouting Voyance’s relay.​

Voyance stood up to march back into the fight when out from the corner of her eye a spear tip of plasma and fury erupted to skewer her. She had not sensed it. The only confirmation was the visual catch of the thrust behind it. The Force, still in her command, bled with her thoughts as they were commanded by her combat reflexes. Voyance used the Force to lurch backwards in a grotesquely inhuman angle and then swerve her stance, swing her body around the body of the spear to emerge suddenly in a flank. Voyance use of Makashi with Force Speed before switched into a defending Niman style. Planted by the would-be attacker’s flank she spat out her hand and blast a burst of telekinetic Force to make distance between themselves.​

 

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