Dominion The Pit | DE Dominion of Yinchorr

[DARKCOM]

The Pit - A COREWARD STORY

​

After their pyrrhic victory of Coruscant, the free peoples of the GALACTIC ALLIANCE have successfully blunted the advance of the sinister DARK EMPIRE. Their heroic actions, even if temporarily, have safeguarded the heart of the galaxy from the treacherous grasp of the SITH'ARI. But this had merely only been the first salvo, the CORE WARS had only just begun.

YINCHORR - Seeking to recoup their resources, the Empire moves to rebuild the ancient Yinchorr citadel. A structure that once instructed members of Palpatine's personal Royal Guard, while smaller adjoining complexes trained officers of the Imperial riot troopers and other stormtrooper divisions. Alas, they are not alone. Remnants of the New Imperial Order, the Imperial Military Protectorate have occupied various regions of the planet and now pose a threat to the burgeoning Galactic Empire.

Elsewhere, the Imperial Ruling Council gathers to discuss their next move, one of which will spell disaster for the CORE WORLDS.

​

The Dark Empire has successfully restored the ancient Imperial Royal Academy on Yinchorr, a hallowed ground where the galaxy's most promising warriors are trained. The Academy serves as the crucible for the Emperor's Royal Guard, and it is here that the Empire's elite prospects are honed into unparalleled combatants. The ultimate goal for every cadet is to emerge victorious over the deadly Squall, a brutal pit where failure means death. Those who survive may earn a place as one of the Emperor's Royal Guard, with the most exceptional to one day become an Imperial Sovereign Protector.

After surviving trials designed to push your characters to your physical and mental limits: extreme physical exertion, complex tactical scenarios, and psychological tests. Prospective Cadets must battle to the death for the right to become a Royal Guardsman.

• Combat: Combat is resolved through dice rolls, reflecting the high stakes and unpredictability of the Squall.
• Character Death: Death is a real possibility, should you chose to participate in this objective as a combatant. Accept the risks as part of the honor and peril of seeking a place among the Emperor's elite. Character Death is highly encouraged for maximum story immersion.
• Signups: To sign your character up in the tournament bracket, reach out to DE staff!

The Dark Empire, under the unyielding rule of the Emperor, has restored the Imperial Royal Academy on Yinchorr, reinforcing its dominance and training a new generation of elite warriors. However, the Imperial Military Protectorate, a treacherous faction of Imperial remnants, rejects the Emperor's authority and has established a foothold on the opposite side of Yinchorr. Their presence is a direct challenge to the Empire's power. Your mission is clear: eradicate these traitors and reaffirm the Emperor's uncontested rule. Leave no traitorous Imperial alive! Engage in search and destroy operations, hunt down the Imperial Remnants that refuse to acknowledge our superiority!

The Galactic Empire has suffered a setback with the Galactic Alliance's defense of Coruscant, but the Emperor's resolve remains unshaken. Having now used Operation: ECLIPSE as a live testbed, the greatest minds of the Empire set to work, and in the imposing halls of Citadel Caelitus on Carlac, the Imperial Ruling Council convenes under the leadership of Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf. This high-stakes meeting, attended by the Empire's most powerful and influential figures, is called to formulate the next steps in achieving dominance over the galaxy. Orders from the Emperor Himself will shape the future course of the Empire.

​

 

[Karkosuchus]

The New Imperial Order had repeaed substantial profits from their venture on the Planet of Yinchorr, owing to the Yinchorri Crisis with the Galactic Alliance so many years ago, now, these resources would be incorporated into the continuously expanding realm of the Dark Empire. Which was determined to retaliate following a slight setback inflicted by the Alliance on Coruscant, the symbolic capital of the galaxy. And when such an offensive occured, it would be at the back and call of the never-ending pursuit of industrial expansion.

The disappearance of the Trade Federation's informant within the Imperial Ruling Council on Zygerria has resulted in a lack of representation for the faction within the expanding ranks and this had been rectified by sending another represenative of the Commanding Viceroy to attend an emergency session of the Council on the Imperial Capital of Carlac.

"Sir, the transports have arrived near sector A-333-BH-3 near the system of Cademimu V." came the sound of the Trade Baron nearby, walking with the entourage. "Proceed then, we shall begin shipping the substance across the Alliance Hyperspace Lanes towards the Dark Empire's Holdings." A short reply was given, and that was that as the Viceroy proceeded.

The Skakoan glided through the corridors of Citadel Caelitus, resembling a specter with hands clasped together and the continuous sound of the machinery inside the pressure suit. Without stopping at the entrance, there was no delay in stepping into the chamber, for this space was simply another meeting room.

A seat was taken without narry a word, just the glancing of eyes behind armored googles.

(Temporary Minister of COMLIT - In place of Nute Griimda)

​

 

[Shannic Wulf]

The Great Citadel on Carlac, Inner Sanctum Meeting Hall​

The Inner Sanctum Meeting Hall of the Great Citadel on Carlac was a testament to the Empire's enduring might, even in the face of recent adversities. The room was vast, with a high vaulted ceiling supported by massive pillars of dark granite, each one intricately carved with scenes of the Empire's glorious past victories. The walls, lined with banners bearing the imperial crest, were marked by the scars of a recent attack, a stark reminder of the ever-present threat of their enemies.

A long, imposing dais of polished obsidian stretched along the center of the hall, raising high several high-backed chairs reserved for the Empire's most powerful leaders. In the centre, a large table, made of thick stone. At the far end of the table, a singular throne-like chair, signifying the seat of the Grand Vizier. This was, afterall, her council.

As the heavy doors at the entrance swung open with a resonant thud, the members of the Imperial Ruling Council and the Military High Command entered, their footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. Their expressions were somber, etched with the strain of their recent defeat and the burdens they carried. Whispers filled the air, a murmur of discontent and unease.

Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf, adorned in her regal attire of deep crimson and black, with the imperial crest emblazoned on her chest, rose from her seat on the dais. Her presence commanded immediate silence, the room falling into an expectant hush as she stepped forward to address the assembly.

"Esteemed members of the Imperial Ruling Council and the Military High Command," she began, her voice clear and resolute, echoing off the walls of the great hall. "We stand here today, not in the glory of victory, but in the shadow of defeat. The Battle for Coruscant may have found a lull but the campaign continues. Our soldiers fought with unparalleled valor and unyielding spirit, and their sacrifices honor us all. Yet, the cost has been grievous."

"The unfettered assault on this very palace by malignant forces should be warning enough that we are vulnerable. Our rout on Coruscant, though full of Imperial valor, is a bitter pill to swallow."

She tapped her fingers idly on the cold stone.

The Vizier's expression hardened, a steely determination taking hold. "You have been summoned here because we must confront our failures head-on. We must dissect our mistakes, reinforce our weaknesses, and strategize our path to resurgence. Each of you holds a crucial role in this endeavor, and together, we must forge a path that ensures the unassailable dominance of the Empire."

Her voice rose with fervent conviction, filling the cavernous space. "Let the loss at Coruscant serve as a rallying cry. We will avenge our fallen, reclaim our strength, and reassert our supremacy. The galaxy will know that the Empire does not falter, does not waver. We rise stronger from our defeats, and our enemies will tremble at our resurgence."

With a final, piercing gaze that swept the room, Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf concluded, "Let us begin."

 

[Bedlam]

OBJECTIVE: The Pit - Overseeing
TAG: Open

Weaving among fighters and spectators, a figure clad in patchwork and bells was a stark contrast of revelry among the bloodshed that would surely follow. A knapsack slung over his shoulder clattered with an unknown amalgamation of contents, occasionally smacking individuals as the fool slipped past groups by a way that seemed both purposeful and meandering at the same time.

The pit and its tournament were in need of a host. And who better to deliver colorful commentary than the fool himself? Perhaps it had been in poor taste to bring a jester to a death match, but no matter. It was too late to take it back. Bedlam took to a makeshift stand, surveying the pit and the cadets below. With an exaggerated clearing of his throat, a sing-song voice projected over the pit unnaturally amplified.

"Welcome, welcome, one and all.
To the wretched pit, we call the Squall
Where fighters now will do their best
To avoid their eternal rest.
Fight with fierceness, fight with guile
Both would make this jester smile.
Do your best, now, to prevail
Or meet death, should you fail."

 

[Sergan Vanori]

Objective: Serve His Emperor, Prove His Worth
Tags: Open

A new uniform, a new Empire, and yet the purpose remained the same. A strong, unified galaxy under an enlightened ruler.
​

This same justification had played through Sergan's mind for the past few weeks, lingering guilt tearing at the corners of his mind. He had betrayed one Empire to serve another, but in the process, he had abandoned the ship and crew he had one day hoped to return with to his homeworld in triumph, but now he was alone in the dark center of the galaxy. But duty triumphed over emotion, the galaxy must be unified and in the final days of his service to the Empire of the Lost, it became increasingly clear that they would not be able to accomplish what they claimed. A madman was Emperor, the Outer Rim could only be their safe haven for so long. But they continued to bloat, continued to fight with the Sith Empire while a New Order arose in the core and took the fight to the true enemy.

So here he sat, isolated from the rest of the room with a datapad in hand. It had taken some time for him to make his way into the Core, so he was unable to take part in the glorious assault on Coruscant, though perhaps that was a bit of good fortune on his part as he read over the casualty reports. He had much to prove, and just because he retained his rank meant little to the gathered beings who had served the Emperor from the very beginning. But Sergan was committed to his new masters and was eager to make himself as useful as he could.

The Grand Vizier was a woman of terrifying presence, and Sergan found it rather amazing how she managed to quiet the room with little more than a gesture, then again he had been silent for some time. The looks he had received from those who still saw him as little more than a traitor had cowed him to an extent, but he would overcome their silent mockery and prove his capabilities. The Vizier provided an accurate account of the situation the Empire found itself in, providing a call to recoup their losses and strike back with even more ferocity against the cursed Alliance and its Jedi protectors. Of course, the Ruling Council and his superiors in High Command had their own strategies, but Sergan was developing plans of his own that he believed would be of great help to his new masters. For the time being he remained quiet, but there were already hushed discussions around him, different ideas and proposals that Sergan quietly took him, agreeing with some and disagreeing with others.

But he would remain quiet for now, take in everything he could. His time would come.

 

[Onrai]

Tags: Shannic Wulf Sergan Vanori Karkosuchus

"It was not a rout."

The words came from Vanessa Vantai, present within the council meeting by virtue of the acquisition of Ord Mantell by her long-term forces and her installation as ruler over that world, once a garbage bin of rust and rubbish soon reverted to a paradisical place of production for military and civilian goods. They were a direct response to the Grand Vizier, and they would momentarily continue. "Jedi and Alliance personnel were killed. Infrastructure of value was destroyed, damaged, and corrupted. Seeds were planted and are yet taking root for a future assault. A retreat, yes. A rout, no." Darktroopers had fought and darktroopers had died during the invasion of Coruscant, and even if the efforts had ultimately resulted in the world remaining under the control of the Alliance, she did not intend to dismiss the sacrifices made by those who had given their lives out of the hope of an Imperial victory, whether they fell under her demesne or not.

A myriad of thoughts came through her barely human-like synapses, facets seeking to yet more effectually divine the truths of the important question: why? Why had the overwhelming darkness of the Empire not smothered the light? The perception came to her that it was perhaps the presence of those beings that yet remained - of the surviving Ashlan manifestations of the Light Side, comingled with the effective actions of the Jedi. For the typical darkness, the fragment of the Force used by those considered Dark Jedi or Sith, there were certain techniques Jedi and other lightsiders yet used which they were vulnerable to. These vulnerabilities were perhaps more threatened courtesy of the Lightsworn, those fanatics who had broken away from mere Alliance orthodoxy and now sought to more effectually prey upon the Empire itself.

"We are as shadows made manifest by a candle in a dark room." A sliver of emerald flame yet burned upon the tip of her index finger, something learned from one of the ancient pyre-cults she had yet been a part of in a past life that was long divorced from her present course. The analogy was somewhat easily understood. "We yet gain and lose space around the flame, but cannot take the space of the flame itself so long as its light yet burns. The only solution I see," she said, "is to find a way to yet blow out the flame." She finished her enigmatic proffering of an initial solution with a pair of pursed lips, a simple simulated breath blowing out the fire on her fingertip. "Take away the Jedi, and you bring out the mortality in the Alliance, the squabbling of the unenlightened tugging each another a thousand ways at once."

For what it was worth, it was a strategy that had worked before innumerable times, and she saw no reason it could not do so again.

 

[Michael Barran]

1st Post

CAIRN_ONE
HIGH-MARSHAL OF THE 313TH "SABRETOOTH" LEGION
GRANDMASTER OF THE ORDER OF THE CHANTING MASK
LORD-IMPERATOR OF THE IMPERIAL MILITARY PROTECTORATE

TAGS
Friend: Tyrell Lockhart Argilac

Foe: OPEN

HEAVY ART THE HEADS IV: AS THE NOOSE TIGHTENS - PART 1

MARNEFORT, LANDING-ZONE 3,
CAMPUS DISTRICT OUTSKIRTS, YINCHORR ACADEMY (901 ABY)

By whose hand, whose voice was this decreed?
Lady Shannic's work, I'll bet.... Well, they're here now.

Might as well leave my mark on them now, might as well commit.
​

'Sire, your orders?'

​

Maric had aged since the years of Felist dominion, but then again, so had Lord Michael; and in these moments, standing on the verge of existence itself, that the Lord-Imperator felt this truth most acutely in his bones. Yet the old Sabretooth Colonel still, somehow, had that tiger in him, even in his advanced-service age of sixty-two, moving around and working tirelessly amongst the advancing legionary column, even singing amongst the troopers by the time they neared the Campus District.

'Send in the Irregulars to take the academy, have them turn loose the untrained and the faculty, then have them entrench twice-over for defence.... We'll likely expect company soon, so send in Argilac with 3rd Battalion - I want us ready for any and all potential contingencies.'

Saluting in silence between them, Maric would don his Second-Generation Storm Armour's helmet and set to his task without so much as a single sign of complaint or disapproval, leaving Barran alone with his Ashlan ward who admitted,'Honourable, but one must ponder.... Would your father have shown the same mercy?', seeing the reason in the Lord-Imperator's decision despite the curisotity in the fallen Empire of the previous century. A minor reveal of sorts, pertaining mostly to certain ecumenical apprehensions of the inclusion of new, Goidelic warriors to the list of beatified heroes, though fortunate they would be that the Goidel himself had all the answers to the Ashlan's burning questions - though some among the sort would not please the lad in the slightest.

'You an' I both know the answer to that, young Lord. After all - one's right hand is often withdrawn bloody in righteousness, is it not?'

Not the answer Lord Tancred wanted to hear, but in Lord Michael's candour sat no reason to take the response the wrong way, thus calmly went back to waiting for reasons to reconcile with the (as yet-) unseen repentance of his mentor's father. Resigned to the Lord-Imperator's patient, laborious approach of choosing show over tell, L'lerim's patience would show eventually, physically trusting Barran to enlighten him at some point as the Goidel concluded,'Easiest choice ever is that to turn the powerless loose, as the only places they return to - are their homes. Moreover, we have no need for hostages but we're not exactly monsters either, thus the easiest choice ever, as I said, is that to shunt them out the door.... Alright, its time.', sensing the suppressed urge to spoil the revelation too early.

'All enemy frequencies, cued.... Ready in five - four - three....'

<"Well, well, well.... What - do we - have here? Dark-Imperial colours, flying over Protectorate property, something I daresay I should've seen coming. I mean, if Coruscant came for Archais, then surely I would've been wise to assume Carlac would come for Yinchorr as well, right? Yeah.... But here's the thing, Dark Imperials-">
​

'I know what you planned, Sire.... Just get on with it.'

<"The Protectorate haven't deployed to Yinchorr to reclaim it, we came to destroy everything that dares fly your colours - along with everyone holding up within.... No offence, but that window of mercy closed shut twenty years ago.">
​

The GA's independent senator of Archais, for all his quirks and faults, was sincere in his predictions after all, and in his eyes lay the truth that no such era of peace awaited the turning centuries, not with all that blood, soot and dust clouding visions of a time beyond it all. The Hirkenburg Accords were the farthest thing removed from a peace conference, as there would be none from any delegation noted attending under such illusions, they knew that war awaited beyond the horizon and everyone (regardless of whether they cosigned or abstained) was aware of the future they were accepting, evidenced in all the stated demands and lobbied failsafes alone. Strife, conflict, destruction, the very abandon of violence itself, these would be the constants of the 10th Century ABY, and the IMP had vowed already to meet it with a closed fist in defiance, defining what Barran would merely repeat to his enemies over the Comm-Link array.

<"Wulf, your Grand-Vizier, she finally has her war, this I accept.... Yet I have but one short message for Wulf in particular, just one last statement before I commence my part in Lady Shannic's war - and you may repeat as thus... Greetings from the people of Nirauan, Lady Shannic. Let the games begin.">

 

[Althous Morvane]

Carlac, Citadel Caelitus, Inner Sanctum Meeting Hall

​

---

​

An entire year had passed since the Warden of Selnesh last met the Grand Vizier in person and left the planet he lorded over, a colony that was somehow difficult to escape even for those whom enjoyed the most exclusive privilege of freedom. This day on Carlac was crucial, for this was Althous Morvane’s first council meeting since he received his position in the Empire.

Foreshadowed by the sounds of intermingling footsteps, some of the figureheads of the Dark Empire followed the Grand Visier Shannic Wulf into the black-and-maroon hall of Citadel Caelitus. Dressed in a tasteful but simple black suit, the Selneshi governor steps out from behind the Grand Visier and rests his pale left hand on the top rail of the last seat, furthest from the throne-like chair the Grand Visier herself took. This way, everything remains within the Warden’s field of vision. He calmly scans the room with a cold look, then pulls out his chair and takes his seat in silence.
​

With a final, piercing gaze that swept the room, Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf concluded, "Let us begin."

The Grand Visier, second only to the revenant Emperor exhibited a demanding, chilling air of authority. Even with all his experience in reading people, Morvane concluded: in her armor, there were no flaws. Even on the hidden frontier planet of Selnesh, the invasion of Coruscant was felt; the constant outflux of forced conscripts and mined-out heavy metals strained their local economy, impacting its leadership with the task of having to actively maintain the social stability of the colony amid attempted revolts against being overworked. Yet, these times were exactly the ones that strengthened the imperial ideology within those that truly lived it: for their Empire did not diminish themselves by giving power to the weak. The instruments of martial law held the sector firmly by its throat, and so stability was achieved, day after day.

The crimson gaze of Althous first lands on the Skakoan, the first one to take his seat, about whom he knew frustratingly little. Typing out a swift query on his datapad, he requests a short internal debrief on the representative. Then, he looks over to the cybernetic man who took a seat among them, having heard of his obscure past only in preliminary reports from his thralls. The man’s cybernetic enhancements cloaked him in an air of mystery, making it difficult to discern tells from the surface. A deeper analysis of his behavior will be needed to truly judge his character.

Finally, the one they call Onrai spoke up, expressing a surprisingly liberal criticism of the Grand Visier’s verbal visualisation of the Empire’s current geopolitical circumstances. Instinctively, Governor Morvane glances at Grand Visier Wulf, anticipating a retort. Whether Onrai’s lax imperial etiquette is bravery or foolishness remains to be seen.

While Althous would wish to speak his mind immediately, first he waits for the Grand Visier to reply to the otherworldly being’s musings and maintains eye contact with her, waiting for his turn to speak.​

---

Shannic Wulf Karkosuchus Sergan Vanori Onrai ​

 

[Karkosuchus]

Shannic Wulf Onrai Sergan Vanori Althous Morvane ​

The Skakoan scarcely cast any glances around the chamber, attentively absorbing the inspiring oration delivered by the Grand Vizier Shannic Wulf . With unwavering determination, the Grand Vizier sought to downplay the significance of the Battle of Coruscant, portraying it as a mere foundational event in the Empire's destiny rather than a grave peril to their very existence.

In order to achieve success against the Alliance, it was imperative for them to adjust, innovate, and revise their strategies, as the Alliance's industrial capabilities were churning out weapons and naval forces effortlessly given the size of their territory.

Within the Council, there were inevitably members who maintained their own perspectives, like Onrai , who erroneously characterized the event as a retreat rather than a complete rout. This individual even cited casualties and infrastructure damage sustained during the engagement as evidence.

The evidence presented was weak, as the 10th Sector Armada managed to emerge relatively unscathed when compared to the Grand Admiral's forces, despite the additional support from the Eclipse Prototype rising from the depths of the senate building.

"AWWEOROROROROR...Although your assessment may not be entirely incorrect, the variables you mentioned are evidently undefined and inapplicable to our current situation as it was not the will of the Jedi that saved the Alliance during our greatest offensive, but a collective effort of the galaxy's most capable ranging from Mandalorians to the Supreme Commander Von Sorenn. The triumph they achieved was attributed to their remarkable technological prowess, which enabled them to emerge victorious by employing state-of-the-art tanks, advanced weaponry, and fortified armor against our mostly New Imperial and Mawite Surplus." Viceroy Hemborr elucidated to Onrai amidst the mechanical hissing of the suit, as methane gas was being delivered into the awaiting lungs. A slight adjustment to the vocabulator was enough to filter out the noise, allowing him to sound crystal clear for the moment.

"The Grand Vizier requests a review of our vulnerabilities, it is imperative that our technological advancements are prioritized. Rather than diverting attention to irrelevant matters such as the New Jedi, we should concentrate on enhancing our technological capabilities for the battlefield." He further commented - wanting to move away from the discussion about the New Jedi Order and focus on more practical means that would enable them to secure victory against the best of the Alliance's industrial machine.

(Temporary Minister of COMLIT - In place of Nute Griimda)

​

 

[Joseph Torson]

T H E_P I T
Objective II : Imperial Showdown

DARK EMPIRE
YINCHORR, EXPANSION REGION

Yinchorr, the seat of the exiled House Haskler. For years House Haskler had been a thorn on the side of Grand Admiral Sularen having once played a key role in his ostracization among most Imperials keeping Sularen isolated and without allies, which prevented him from taking advantage of the collapse of the Maw to rise to power on his own terms. However now the Old Empire was gone, and Imperials such as Julius Haskler and Vandar Tarkin no longer were in control, no longer had the security they had enjoyed and most importantly, they no longer could keep Sularen isolated now that their Empire had collapsed and a new one had risen in it's place, one in which Sularen was quick to join forces with and rise to the position of Warlord of the Empire.

The days of these treacherous Imperials were numbered and today after so much years suffering setbacks at the hand of Julius Haskler and his Imperial goons, the vengeful wrath of Grand Admiral Sularen would finally come crashing down upon them, ready to eradicate them from the face of the galaxy once and for all. Sularen's Vengeance would be swift, ruthless and without mercy targeting all who had followed the treacherous Anaxsi Moff. Today, House Haskler of Anaxes would cease to exist.

At the head of this campaign of retribution was none other then Joseph Torson, one of Sularen's top enforcers and the Captain of his Red Right Hand. With the full might of Imperial Special Forces at his disposal, Torson was ready to launch a grand assault on seat of power for House Haskler on Yinchorr, the Fortress of Pols Yinchorr. His orders from the Grand Admiral were simple, locate and capture Julius Haskler and all high-ranking officers of House Haskler, seize all assets belonging to Corporate entities aligned with House Haskler and finally loot and pillage Pols Yinchorr of all it's value and then destroy the city along with all their inhabitants. No one was to be spared, as Torson and his men were authorized to kill any who stood in their way whether they were civilians or military forces. Nothing would stand in the way of the Grand Admiral's vengeance.

Above the desert world of Yinchorr, a large fleet of Imperial Warships quickly emerged out of hyperspace consisting of the Obsidian Enforcer, five Corvus-Class Commando Destroyers and nine Inceptus-Class Assault Ships. Standing onboard the bridge of the Obsidian Enforcer, Joseph Torson gazed upon the desert waste that stood in-front of him. Fresh from back-to-back missions on Coruscant and elsewhere in the Corusca Sector, he was still eager to serve the agenda of the Grand Admiral, ready to pursue his hated enemies and deliver judgement upon them. He was well aware of the Grand Admiral's history with House Haskler and was honored that he had been selected to be his instrument of vengeance, finally burying the scourge that was House Haskler once and for all.

Before long, Torson was boarding a HAAG alongside various Red Right Hand Operators before it would soon rise up and emerge from the dorsal hangars of the Obsidian Enforcer, followed by seven other HAAGs. At the same time the rest of the fleet also began to deploy their HAAGs at well, with all three hundred Heavy Gunships soon making their way towards the surface of Yinchorr, followed by the Assault Ships which headed straight to position themselves within the upper atmosphere of Yinchorr while the Commando Destroyers remained in orbit to guard against any counter-attack from IMP Naval Forces.

Soon, the Heavy Gunships would began to make their approach towards Pols Yinchorr, with the soldiers within ready to unleash the full might of the True Empire upon House Haskler.

Tags [DE] | Torne Derok | Abraxas Colt
Tags [IMP] | OPEN​

 

[Argilac]

THE PROMISED LAND
~Lead them to paradise.~

OUTFIT: x
OBJECTIVE: a better tomorrow for us true Imperials
ALLIES: Michael Barran | IMP
ENGAGING: Mic Gallagher

​

YINCHORR, EXPANSION REGION

It’s been only a short while since Anobis, but it felt like forever. Every day, every hour, every minute, every GODDAMN SECOND I ponder whether it was inevitable? Was it hubris, or was it weaknesses?

The storm that was this Mawite Empire stormed Storm’s End and it swept through savagely as they did not leave us any option but to withdraw. Or so I thought. Regroup with my other brethren they told. Fight another day. Yet the grim despair hasn’t left the deepest depths of my heart since that day. The day I left my home for the past 20 years burning under the machination of the Maw. The worst part is, they had shattered my heart not only because they took my home away, but also because that day I saw those perverted Mawites fought alongside Imperials.

Once was my people, fighting for our greatest enemy.

So here we are today in Yinchorr, I had arrived some weeks ago with the remaining 137 DIRESTARK and 52 FORSWORN. The Lord-Imperator, my dear brother Lord Michael Barran said it clear and simple. We’re not here to take the planet away from them. No. It’s far TOO LATE for SALVATION. We’re here to make sure that they’ll be left a burning planet. SALVATION, just for the next generation.

BAPTISM BY FIRE.

“Lord Michael,” I said to him right after the comm-link was cut. “The time has come. Let’s make it count, a thousand for each of our lives.”

I will be fighting in the front line, just like I always did back in the day. My comeuppance might’ve came when we were on a downward spiral, but my friendship with the Lord-Imperator was one that was built on hope. And goddamn we survived through the thick and thin, we nurtured a robust generation of true Imperials and we built a foundation for a better tomorrow. We, and our fallen brethren.

“For your father my brother, for Aron, for his kids, for yours and mine, and thousands that one day will salute the Banner of the Fallen,” I hold his shoulder hard. The Force doesn’t lie, and I can hear it calling. See you in paradise, my brother. “Tell Argella I love her, and that I’m beyond proud.” I had sent her to Nirauan after the fall of Anobis. Michael is a good man, and I know she’ll thrive under his tutelage.

I took one last look at Michael. To see the man grow from being under the shadow of his pop, to the leader of men he is today. The noble, man of Ashla, a brother I never thought I would find when I was first taken by the Empire. There’s no need for a further exchange of words, just a look I gave, telling him that I know that he’ll live another day to continue bringing light into the darkest corner of the galaxy, hope to the hopeless.

“Walk with Ashla.”

And with that I charged impending hordes of evil, once again, for the last time, the spear of hope and order.
​

 

[Okono Dukkha]

Shannic Wulf | Karkosuchus | Althous Morvane | Onrai | Sergan Vanori

​

Okono Dukkha, chairman of the Imperial Mining Guild, observed quietly the proceeds. It said a great deal about whoever would be the first to justify the defeat at Coruscant. The two opponents in the ring immediately seemed to be the Governor of Ord Mantell and the representative of COMLIT. Neither were particularly seen through friendly eyes by the Togruta. Unfortunately both had made good points. Jedi might not have been the deciding factor of the battle at Coruscant, but the recent Jedi attack on Trade Federation property was begging questions the Chairman, and likely the rest of the council, wished answers for.

Alas the Chairman's tongue was tied on that front, because the representative of COMLIT meant business, and as much distain for the Trade Federation and their free-market positions as Okono possessed, he was well aware of the need for COMLIT's resources to complement his own. The Imperial Mining Guild was only as strong as its ability to ship its output from the mines and the refineries.

"If I may interject, Grand Vizier, I am inclined to agree strongly with Viceroy Hemborr and I offer a solution. The Mining Guild has begun intensive operation on the world of Nyriaan, which was largely untouched by the Tavlar and Fel regimes, compared to the projections we have been seeing from our geographical surveys. The majority of the abundant minerals on the planet are integral for shipbuilding, and I believe as we ramp up production we could undo the Empire's military deficit through raw materials. Of course," he turned to Hemborr, "this would require significant investment in supply chains, secure supply chains."

 

[Darth Defias]

The Acolyte
Path of Destruction
TAGS: Khronas
​

While the Imperials lick their wounds from the battle of Coruscant, the Sith’s machinations continue to work in full force. Far from Yinchorr, where in the famed pits cadets climb over the bodies of their fallen former brother-in-arms in a contest of strength, two Acolytes on Carlac are also on a quest of changing the hierarchy of power.

After innumerable, tireless nights of plotting — and often irritating due to Khronas’ obsessive pendency for accuracy and time — he and Defias had finally created a scheme to murder Lord Neveon, the Academy’s Muun Overseer.

The two’s tentative alliance, or rather venture born of mutual interest, revealed how ominously their skills complemented each other as if bound by fate… or design; Defias’ expertise with technology had rigged the droid contingent tending the needs of the academy into an android insurrection to sow chaos on the day of defiance; his curiosity of ancient Sith manuscripts and texts—often ridiculed by other Acolytes for it—discovered the poison that was subtly delivered each day to Neveon’s meals and drinks in small doses as to not alert the Overseer, and led to his weakened state; Khronas’ obsession with time and his meticulous nature had all but pieced the plan together down to the very last minute, to the point he knew when Neveon’s bowel movements were strongest.

The Day of Defiance was upon them, or as Khronas would call it—the Thirty-Three minutes and Fifty-four seconds and Seventy-one milliseconds Mutiny.

“Ready?” Defias asked, concealed by the cold shadows of the Academy’s halls.

Upon Khronas’ timely confirmation, the large Raxian would press a button which would unleash the droids into a lethal riot. In the chaos that ensues, they would carefully stalk their way to Neveon’s meditation chamber and end him for good.

And on time.

 

[Creuat]

B L A C K G U A R D
DANTOOINE | TEMPLE
BYOO
Lord Letifer
​

A minor setback; a temporary one for the time being. For now there was work to be done while the Emperor and his officers devised a new strategy to strip Coruscant from the Alliance. A victory, but a costly one for the Alliance with the destruction Coruscant suffered. That would be a weakness to exploit when the time came.

For now, the Emperor’s Chosen was ordered to venture out to Dantooine to retrieve an artifact for the Emperor. Alone he was not when a familiar presence was to join him on this mission. Once a mortal enemy of Rhis Fisto, now an ally of sorts to Creuat.

Lord Letifer .

It was unorthodox for a Sith to accompany a member of the Emperor’s Elite. Their interests aligned, but what separated them was their ambitions. Allies they may be, but the Dark Jedi distrusted the Sith Lord. A part of him did hate Letifer, finding an excuse to strike down the Sith. Strange how the emotions and memories of his past continued to influence Creuat’s present.

The pair arrived at the designated temple, once a Jedi Temple that was rebranded as a base for the Imperial Knights of the defunct New Imperial Order. Dantooine was largely abandoned for its lack of resource, but there was the chance of stragglers defending the temple. During the venture Creuat did not spare a word to the Sith Lord, a tensed silence was maintained between the two dark apostles as they entered the temple.

 

[Lord Letifer]

BYOO | DANTOOINE
Creuat

​

Lord Letifer strode through the shadowed corridor, his black armor gleaming dully in the flickering torchlight. His sinister mask and visor gave him an otherworldly presence, a cold visage devoid of any emotion. Beside him walked Rhis Fisto, once a formidable Jedi Master of the New Jedi Order, now a figure cast and reborn into the Dark Side Elite. A dark warrior known as Creuat .

The transition had done little to lessen the tension between them. The air was thick with the unspoken challenge of dominance, each step reverberating with the promise of violence. They moved in silence, a calculated absence of sound that spoke volumes more than words ever could. The only sounds were the rhythmic clanking of their armored boots against the stone floor. Letifer's mind was a storm of contempt and grudging respect. Creuat had been a worthy adversary, and now, twisted by the dark side, he was a powerful ally. Yet, the sting of past conflicts and the ever-present competition for power simmered beneath the surface. He was no Sith.

Creuat, for his part, radiated a cold fury. The Dark Side had indeed consumed him, but his disdain for Letifer had not abated. If anything, it was clear it had sharpened, like a blade honed to a razor edge. The loyalty he displayed was a twisted one, born of the Sith'ari's manipulations. Letifer suffered none of such weakness, and yet, he wondered if that had made his rival the more deadly? For who was greater, the zealot or the follower? The Sith Lord served the reborn Emperor after he had reclaimed the mantle, but for only as long as remained the strongest. At the end of the day, he was only loyal to himself.

To share power was to dilute it.

So he would do what he had to in order to secure the artifact for himself.

Lord Letifer halted in his tracks and tilted his head. "Look how old you've become." He hissed with a static hum behind his voice, a distorted echo that resounded through the air.

 

[Sergan Vanori]

Objective: Serve His Emperor, Prove His Worth
Tags: Onrai Okono Dukkha Karkosuchus Shannic Wulf Althous Morvane
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"Grand Vizier, if I may-"

​

Sergan rose from his seat, a quiet breath taken to steady himself as he moved to the center of the room

"Every proposal so far has been sound, and no doubt we will have much to do in the coming months in order to strengthen our armies and ensure a technological edge over our enemies, but I think we have overlooked an important point-"

Sergan paused, looking around at the gathering for a moment before continuing

"We were able to assault the Galatic Capital and we were only just repulsed. Any victory the Alliance won has been pyrrhic and we have revealed a key weakness: They are fighting a two-front war, pressed between our territory and the false Empire to the south. We cannot afford to let them combine their forces, we must keep them distracted, divided on multiple fronts. So, I propose this-"

Using the Datapad he had been clutching under one arm, Sergan activated a holoprojector in the center of the room to display the Core and Mid Rim, territory clearly defined between the Alliance and Empire.

"I am strongly in favor of the proposals put forth by the esteemed Chairman of the Mining Guild and Viceroy Hemborr, let us embark on a production campaign on a scale never seen before, but to do this we will need to expand our vision. I propose that we use what forces we have to strike not at the Core itself, but at the Hydian and Parlemian trade routes, strangling the Core and providing even more resources to bolster our war machine. Meanwhile, we can ill afford to allow the Jedi a chance to rally a strike against us, so let us play on their incessant need to save lives. Let us release the dogs of war, the Maw Khanate, the New Sith, ISB, all these daggers working in small strike groups to spread across Alliance space like a cancer. The Jedi will be forced to intervene as we strike worlds they believe to be safe. This also serves to create a refugee crisis on a massive scale, further weakening our enemies. I believe Lord Onrai should head these efforts, he is correct in seeing the Jedi as the cornerstone of our enemies' resolve.

Several targets appear on the map across Allaince space, all possibilities that Sergan has taken into account. In the end, it would be up to the Ruling Council and Emperor as to where these strikes occur, but Sergan saw this as the only true path forward.

"This will not be a short campaign, but I believe if we link arms and work as a united front, our victory is assured. I know that my skill is in doubt, and I was not among the fighting on Coruscant, but I only ask that these proposals be considered by the esteemed members of this Council."

With a polite bow in the Grand Vizier's direction, Sergan returned to his seat to await the reaction to his proposals with bated breath.

​

 

[Mic Gallagher]

VIPER
ROYAL ACADEMY | YINCHORR
ALLIES: DE
ENEMIES: IMP
ENGAGING: Argilac
GEAR: Armour | Lightsaber | Pistol | Vibroblades | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout

AGE OF AQUARIUS​

Of all the places.

Yinchorr was heavy with Imperial history - old and new. She should have known that the more they moved into Empire space, the more she would have to face her own. It was already a heavy blow having to face the true heir on Coruscant and to be labelled as a traitor by him.

Today would be no different.

It was easy going after the Jedi. Against other enemies. But it all got stuck in her throat whenever she received the order to after one of the remnants. She always, without fail, ran into people she once knew. Coruscant had been the only place where she had been alone - no Sith or other Imperials or Elites looking over her shoulder. Here, again, she would have to do the unthinkable and raise her blade against her own to keep up the ruse.

Luckily a sneer was always displayed on her face. She didn't look any different to any of the Troopers that were with her. But the sneer this time was at the prospect of being labelled a traitor once again.
"Lady Kader, we received comms - they're approaching. They mean war." said the Captain next to her.
Amena's jaw clenched.
"Who's leading it?" she asked flatly.
"They're flying Barran colours, ma'am."
She sighed. "He's not his father, though he's still a hardened battle commander." she mused before looking at the Captain. "Keep the highly trained units back. He'll likely send bait. Give him the fodder he wants."
"Yes, ma'am." He saluted before turning away to discuss the tactics with the officers under him.

Before long, Dark Imperial and Protectorate forces clashed against each other, blasterfire, cannon fire and grenades filling the air. The Viper stayed back with the higher trained units, waiting to see what the old Goidel would do.
"My lady, we have a battalion moving this way. They seemed to be led by an Imperial Knight." the Special Forces Commander next to her said.
It took all of her self control to not close her eyes and to rather sigh internally instead of audibly.
"Have some of the units engage. Deploy as necessary after that. I'll take care of the Knight." she said before charging headlong into the fray.

Before long, she saw him - the argent blade was hard to miss in the chaos. And the face - one she remembers from the waning days of the Empire. Up until now, she had only been using her pistol, but if the young Fel had been any indication, it was that the Paladins of the Order attacked first and asked questions later.

So she unclipped her saber, but kept it disengaged for the moment.

"Argilac!" she called, sending a particle bolt whizzing past his head to draw his attention.

 

[Torne Derok]

I D O L O N
YINCHORR
Joseph Torson | Abraxas Colt

There was sentimental value to Yinchorr for Torne, having been part in the New Imperial operations when it was first annexed. A grounding stage to undermine the Alliance only to discontinue those ambitions to destroy the Sith Empire.

Now today it would recognize a new Empire to bow down in submission. The remnants of Tavlar’s imperium persisted to remain relevant, warlords of different creeds maintaining their power. Their days were numbered, and they had the option to swear fealty to the Emperor or perish in the ashes of history. Should they opt for the latter, then perhaps they would reconsider after making an example out of House Haskler.

Their descent was met with fury. Always that anxious feeling if they’d be lucky enough to touch the ground. Luck and skills of their pilots were the only factors to decide their survival.

<“Do we have visual of our target?”>

 

[Hazon Vin'Kari]

Location: Royal Imperial Academy, Yinchorr
Fighting: Whoever is death dueling a Red Guard Cadet
​

Years of training was finally starting to pay off for the young and fanatical Hazon Vin'Kari. He had spent months training for when he would finally pass his trials. The Emperor's Royal Guard were more than just simple bodyguards for Emperor Fossk, but his personal agents sent out to carry out his will, for to be a guard was to be more than just a Stormtrooper, an advisor or one of his Dark Side Elite. To be Emperor Fossk's guard had involved physical and mental conditioning unlike any other. Unlike the normal rank and file Stormtrooper, Vin'Kari would view Fossk as his God. A man that made the cadet trembled in his presence, for the rare times the Emperor himself would visit did Hazon feel the urge to kneel before his highness and declare his love and his devotion to the Empire, to the Emperor himself if need be, for there was no greater calling in the Empire to be at the side of the Emperor himself.

Of course this wasn't without sacrifice. Not every cadet would attain the rank of an Imperial Royal Guard. As the tradition had been for sometime, only one would be chosen to serve the Emperor. Rumor had it that the pits were based on Sith doctrine for the Royal Guard. Only the strongest would prevail in a fight, and if one succeeded they would be greeted by the Emperor himself, and given the great honor to serve in his guard. The young man all the way from the war torn Outer Rim, he had desired above all else to stand by his side. He stood on the exit leading out to the pits, he could hear the sounds of blades clashing, and a fierce determination brought about by each cadet that entered the dueling ring. Two went in and only one came out.

Vin'Kari would stand at the ready, adjusting his armor. He hadn't earned the full red garb, only wearing a cadet's version which missed pieces of the full armored set gained when passing the trials. He was gained a staff weapon, vibro blades lined both ends. It reminded him of a similar weapon to which he called the training version of the weapon he wielded now. He waited for his name to be called, for his time to enter into the pits. If he prevailed on this day, a new life would await him. If he failed then it wouldn't matter. Only that his death would provide results for his Emperor.

"Long live the Emperor.
Long live the Empire." ​

 

[The Faceless]

​

“Daradi Milloc! And Hazon Vin'Kari !” the Royal Guard Overseer called out the first contestants to enter the Pit. A class that started with one hundred of the finest soldiers the Empire offered dwindled down to a mere two dozen of them. They were a testament to their physical prowess and mental endurance to make it this far. The finest warriors the Empire would herald to the Galaxy, even more deadly than a Mandalorian.

But today would be their final exam, before they could meet the Emperor and be given the honorary title of Royal Guard.

A fight to the death.

Only the strongest would survive, for the Emperor demanded only the strongest out of all his subjects. Any weak link would only compromise the integrity of the Empire. After all, the Empire’s strength was a reflection based off its soldiers and citizens.

Daradi walked out to the middle of the pit, armed with a vibronknife sheathed at his waist and the iconic double-bladed vibrosword. A Kage with a history serving the New Imperial Order, living a temporary life as a bounty hunter hunting Jedi. It was until the rise of the Dark Empire did he retire his life as a scoundrel to once again serve the might of Imperialism.

Both warriors stood ready in their stances, awaiting for the cue from the Overseer to begin the duel.

“Begin!”

Daradi, nimble on his feet, jumped with his vibro sword in a high guard only to bring it down like an avalanche onto Hazon. There was no remorse or regret behind his eyes. All that mattered was serving his Emperor and ensure an indefinite longevity of the Empire.