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The Reclamation | TSE Dominion of Rhen Var

Drachau Zambrano

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A mad, booming laughter echoed throughout the battlefield. This was the first time in a longtime the Bastard was permitted to slaughter with such ferocity! With each swing of its saber, a rebel fell to the muddled floor in two. Cries of horror echoed the euphoric laughter as the rebels began trampling over their own fallen, each one of them fighting to escape and preserve their own lives. It was a beautiful sight to behold to the monstrosity, but it was far from over. The beast had yet not sated its gnawing hunger, too many still lived and it refused to be denied such glorious slaughter. Not now, not ever.

Drachau returned it's lightsaber to it's side before grabbing hold of a fleeing human. In the face of such insurmountable odds, the human shrunk away and tried to tear himself free of the beast. The struggling was quelled as the Bastard gripped the man's head in one large hand and pulled. His pained scream was cut short by the sound of bones popping and crunching out of place. Blood washed over it in waves as flesh tore and sloughed down to the soaked earth. The monstrosity lifted the head high, roaring out a deep noise once more. A fresh wave of fear and hysteria washed out over the fleeing soldiers, each one too afraid to look back at the beast. It lowered a shoulder and horns alike as it crashed forwards. One unlucky woman's life was stolen away as two curved horns exploded from her chest. She slid off the monster and thudded to the floor, tears still in her shocked eyes.

"Bring me more!"

It's words exploded from deep in it's chest as it caught up to another. This one was lifted from the floor and thrown at another. Bones snapped on impact as they fell in limp, broken pile. Drachau stomped over them as it gave chase, turning the two to a pulpy mess.

Nothing could stop the creature as it barrelled into the caves after the survivors.

[member="Sith Muse"]
 
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The rich aroma fumigating the apartment told Jorryn that her special blend of caf had pressed perfectly, her hair messy and fallen in front of her face as she lifted her face from the counter it had been resting on. She rubbed her eye once more and contained a yawn, before lifting the nose to her press and taking a deep breath from the container.

Just right.

The Echani pulled her favourite mug from the cupboards above her, one that Vaylin had brought back from some adventure or another. It had been awhile since the couple had seen each other, but at least the Inquisitor had something to remember her other half by.

It wasn't much longer after that that Jorryn continued back to the holo-computer back in the den, delicately resting the mug down on a coaster already placed there before hand. She put the thick black-rimmed glasses back on her face before checking the time, her heart sinking a little as she realized she had crashed for 20 minutes.

"Oh kark!"

That fact woke her up more than the coffee did, the amount of reports having piled up causing her to take a massive gulp from the mug in front of her before continuing her job. It would be a long night left ahead of the poor Inquisitor before she would be allowed to gather a full night's rest.
 

Amaya Cardei

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Alvarez had been in the thick of the fight, his shield met with the poor unhelmeted soul of a rebel. The sickening crunch of bone beneath the weight of the ultra-chrome shield, the menacing stance he took as his blade dove into the man's compatriot. "Blades together!" Alvarex shouted so that his unit could fight as one, shields then swords. Like a well oiled machine, they could push through the fields of soldiers that now lay before them. It was then that he heard a familiar voice, one he had not heard since Mandalore. Perhaps the only soul that got away with calling him, Alvi. "This a fine time for you to have arrived, brother. Now let us whet our blades on the skulls of these rebels and reclaim this world for our father, for the Emperor!"

A thunderous roar from the Blackblades cascaded upward like a crescendo as the Legionnaires pushed the last of the insurgents into the caves. "Careful of the caves, Drac. Rebels are a clever lot, where are the rumblers? Send them forth!" He remarked and looked up to get but a glance of red, white and black plastoid armor in what seemed to be the hundreds. Alvarex bellowed, "it seems the Triumvirs wish to train their whelps!"

He turned and let his blade sweep up across another rebel, while his shield bashed the man's face into itself. From there he could feel the dark aura emitted by his father [member="Darth Carnifex"]. "Let these rebels burn, and bury their corpses beneath the mountains!"

Whilst in the system above, the once bitter battle had turned the arrival of the Seventh Fleet only set the stage for the rebel's demise. Commodore Almeyda shifted the fleet's lines and pushed a little further as hellfire seemed to engulf what had remained of the rebels. The Elidibus and Serran both laid forth their fire power, no prisoners, no quarter - any who had stood against the Empire would be put to the sword. It would continue in this manner until the Emperor was satisfied until it was that Rhen Var knew its place.

The Sith Empire had reclaimed Rhen Var, for better or for worse its banners now flew over the planet once more.

[member="Vaulkhar"] | [member="Drachau Zambrano"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]

[OOC: Objective's end, however, you may continue on with your personal stories as long as you wish!]
 
FINISH ◈ THE ◈ MISSION
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<:: Hey! Hey we've got Imperials down here! Gi-

Another voice was silenced as the Agent slid around the corner and withdrew his sidearm, a hefty crack of the high caliber secondary sending the Coalition trooper slamming into the metallic flooring with a skid before he fell silent and very much still. The runner had been neutralized and the disks remained immobile but alas, that would not last for long. In all his attempts to flee and seek shelter, his cries for help had indeed been heard by his comrades-- Wendigo was very much aware of this as the hefty thump of combat boots against the worse-for-wear metal flooring drew ever closer to the intersection that his target had been intercepted. Four sets of boots soon came to a halt as the Coalition troops readied their positions and sought cover; two providing overwatch whilst the other two advanced to approach their fallen comrade. Normally a four-on-one fight would have been unfair to the common Imperial Legionary but to the Agent? Well, there were very solidified reasons as to why his superiors sent him in to handle high-risk low-profile operations, typically sending only him and him alone.

And to the four that prepared to face the Imperial they believe they had cornered down in that underground lab, those reasons were about to be displayed first-hand.

It was evident by the footsteps that the two advancing hostiles were moving seperated down either funnel of the intersection, hoping to pincer and eliminate the Agent in one fell swoop and thus secure their objective without difficulty. Wendigo had since prepared himself for this, resting low behind cover on the left flank and sure enough? The footsteps were just a few mere paces away-- Distance closed enough for the Agent to perform his play. Out the black-clad Imperial sprung, having holstered his sidearm prior to effectively use both hands to engage in close quarters; one dedicated to pushing the barrel of the blaster away and the other sending a pummeling strike directly into the trooper's face. Disorientated, that blaster was soon yanked out of his target's reach and clattered to the floor as a boot went to kick straight into his knee. With how this movement was performed, one could have assumed that Wendigo had indeed timed everything and mentally planned every step with the exact echo of footstep of his now-engaged opponent; with a not-so-subtle hand, that Coalition trooper was turned sharply with the Agent utilizing the poor soul as a human shield; a hand around his throat and the other reaching for his sidearm.

...When that supposed ally arrived? A single shot cracked throughout the intersection and down went one more of the recovery team, a hole through his head. A few seconds later? The sickening crack of a neck.

"Kark! Elly, recover those disks, I'll cover you!"

A few choice blaster bolts flew down the hallway, no doubt an attempt to cover his sister-in-arms as she attempted a daring push forwards to retrieved the information they had been sent to recover; the Agent took cover and simply reached for his rigging, withdrawing a grenade that was simply primed and chucked underhanded towards the body-- By the time the woman of the Coalition had reached him, the grenade went off to spew ominous gas through the local area. She fumbled, choking on the gas which she had no counter for and having been in such a compact environment; her fate was sealed in a matter of moments as her comrade could do nothing but watch before taking flight, his yells echoing down the halls;

<:: Actual! Actual! Be advised, we have an Imperial in the facility! Four through Ten are down-- He's heading this way!

And through the gas? Wendigo followed, stepping over the corpses of those that had tried to bring an end to his mission. Three down. Three to go.
 
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ANsFFoxh1LU​
Raptious followed their fellow Sith, now joined by the 421st Crimson Lance, respectable soldiers. They slew everyone in their path, Jedi and enemy soldier alike. It was a glamorous painting, streaks of red and bursts of textured dust popping off the canvas of glorious gore galore as the Empire marched through Drepya's Peak in ordered fashion.

Darth Avacyn was a revelation on the battlefield, her power unmatched in many aspects and her presence awe inspiring for the Crimson Lance. Foes fell by the bushel, and those that didn't hesitated too long upon seeing the great cadre that marched with utmost purpose and were gunned down by the legionnaires.

The living fire, forged from the cauldrons of war. Avacyn, Crimson Lance. The bulwark breakers. Tested. Honed.

So glorious was the young Lark as well, fire haired and fire spirited, carving through the foes like chocolate bars on a hot pan in the Tatooine sun.

Young, a life of conquest before him. Lark, with nerves of steel, brave. Promising.

Banners of the Sith flew in the ash filled air, pristine amongst the smog and embers rising into the atmosphere. The Phoenix felt right at home and silently wished Kascalion could have joined the assault. The Ashen Devil, aptly named, would have claimed all land of this peak with a mere glance. Of this, Raptious was certain.

The Phoenix returned from their thoughts and trailed their gaze over to the lady Sith whose own gaze was locked dead center on an opening in the mountains. The cave belched a strong stench of cowardice, of ambushes, of Jedi that needed to be slain. The Blood Quencher smiled widely under their gashed helmet and increased their speed towards the cave, passing the Crimson Lance and Avacyn with quick steps.

"Come, my lovely friends. There's glory awaiting."

[member="Lark"] | [member="Sith Muse"] | [member="Kaalia Pavanos"]​
 
Location: Ruins of the Temple of Ice
Wielding: Sword of Omens | Lightsaber
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The inky black form of the carrion-like shadow circled overhead.

Through the connection, the young Cathar's vision was expanded. In his mind's eye, he saw the world from that bird's eye view. The kitten slowed his pace as he chased behind where the pink-haired acolyte had gone charging off. He was worried it was some Jedi trap, but tt wasn't crazy, undying Jedi Force Ghosts. It was just a crazy Sith Lady.

The disappointment was real.

Emerging through the snow drifts, the young Cathar appeared from out of the whiteout to stand near the acoylte girl. This was an opportunity to observe the many stages of crazy Sith lady.

There was the larval stage, as evidenced by the pink-haired girl. And then there was the imago stage, as evidenced by the lady with the Sith tattoos.

The young Cathar's amber eyes took in the many differences between the two. Yep. That was probably what the young girl was going to look like when she grew up. Now, Micah didn't really like girls, but when he got older, if he had to like girls... then he was totally going to date a Jedi one.

Crazy Sith LadyTM ran off to go slaughter things. For his part, Micah had spells to do that kind of thing for him. Otherwise, it was a lot of running around, lightsabering, and more running around. Ain't nobody got time for that.

The girl didn't have a lightsaber though, did she? "You can use my lightsaber if you wanna go slash and stuff," the boy offered, indicating the folded hilt that hung off his waist.

Even if she didn't know how to use a double-bladed lightsaber, the boy's could also work as a single-blade one. Just, a single blade lightsaber with a long handle.

Besides, the two of them lightsabering and otherwise being unholy terrors would provide both distraction and cover for the young sorcerer to do what he did best...

...summon forth familiars and demons to do all that for him!

Drawing the Force crystal dagger, the Dark Side again swirled around the small boy. Stronger this time. An ill wind taking shape as the boy began to utter,"Woyunoks hadzuska koshûjontû."

The words seemed to be echoed back from beyond the void. A haunting litany emerging from the howling winds as the youngling invoked the incantation of the Dwomutsiqsa. "Woyunoks hadzuska koshûjontû," he repeated again, as the sounds of horrific wailing began to pierce through the shadows.

Why make all the effort to kill people when their own worst nightmare could just appear and do it for you?

[member="Darth Koaaon"] | [member="Funami Teriyaki"]
 

Darth Koaaon

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Yet another lifeless body fell to the icy ground of Rhen Var, The Nautolan's eyes rolled to the back of their head as their heart stopped the green skin on his body becoming a more grayish color. The omen of darkness standing over him retracted her saber the wielder herself being covered in ice and blood. That was the seventh Jedi to date she had killed but by then the fighting had died down as the symphony of death and destruction neared its long awaited end.

A gentle vibration came from the inside of Koaaon's cloak prompting her to reach inside and pull out her holo communicator. The commander of her forces manifested out of the blue light of the Hologram the ever increasing blizzard send shards of ice flying through the small image of the man.

"My Lord we have dispatched almost all the forces that fled in our direction and we are rounding the last of them but we have received reports that the bulk of the remaining thieves have holed up in some cave near Dreypa peak sending coordinates to you now."

Her hunch was correct the battle was at its end now all that was left was clearing out the so-called "Survivors." It would be a simple task considering they so considerately gathered up in one easy to target location. A bellowing shout could be heard through the alps a voice that commanded great power and domination within it. Carnifex it could only be him. Either way it was of no consequence it was time to go home and get some well deserved shut eye.

Looking at the ground was a horrific sight. Rotting corpses littering the ground already being consumed by what little life could survive out here. Through the force Koaaon could feel the thoughts and emotions they had before they died. Fear, anger, determination, the will to defeat the Sith. Hmph as if. Koaaon returned to the commander her gaze meeting his over comms.

"Marvelous! Simply splendid!" Get your forces down there and form a perimeter around the cave I will meet you there when I can."
 
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“Lady, you’re crazy,” the girl commented and watched the cackling Sith woman scurry off toward whatever danger littered the lost city. “And don’t break anything, you hear?!”

But the tattooed rogue had already departed, vanishing from sight behind the snowy cover. The howling winds swallowed Funami’s words and left the girl all alone. Apparently, today was another ignore-your-Funami day when nobody in the galaxy paid attention to the little pink-haired schoolgirl who claimed to be Sith.

Posing akimbo, she cast a disapproving glance at the woman’s rapidly disappearing footprints pressed in the snow. Why did she have the feeling the Sith lord was going to smash and break everything? The slashing and humming of lightsabers occasionally pierced the windy ambiance, hinting at epic clashes of light against darkness happening nearby. Funami ignored it completely, sulking. There went the chance to get her hands on artifacts. And with it any incentive to actively join the battle.

Never one to fight superior opponents and numbers without the substantial support of other Sith, she slowly trudged forward, each step a snail-paced shuffle, kicking the snow up as she went. She did not mind killing, but when freezing and nearly blinded by snowflakes whipping her eyes, she wished to be someplace warmer. As the fluffy acolyte’s offer reached her ears, Funami cast a glance over her shoulder to find the boy’s strangely shaped lightsaber.

“Um, no, no, keep it,” the girl made a dismissive gesture. “No reason to give it to me.”

Probably the galaxy’s worst lightsaber duelist, Funami had the legendary ability to turn one of the most potent weapons ever constructed into a dangerous glow stick.

With the Sith lady going crazy and slicing any living thing in sight and the acolyte casting a haunting spell that turned out to summon a creepy, shadowy thing, the girl suddenly felt a lot more confident about the battle. Now she really didn’t need to move a finger, and thus remained in the back, enjoying the deadly show with a cheerful smile hidden beneath her scarf, cheeks turning rosy from the cold.

“Remember, guys,” she started, coolly offering a piece of motivational advice as lives were being snuffed out like candles. “Being Sith is about having fun! So, um, enjoy the fight!”

A cautious glance about and Funami moved to loot the recently deceased for any useful artifacts on their still warm bodies.


[member="Darth Koaaon"] | [member="Micah"]​
 
FINISH ◈ THE ◈ MISSION
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"He's coming!"
"Alright Onyx, he's just one guy! We can take him!"
"For the Coalition!"

Wendigo didn't admire their spirit, it was seldom easy to find any positives about the denziens of the galaxy that he was sent after by the orders of his superiors and these intruders were no exception. Truth be told, nobody knew for sure if the Agent held many opinions at all-- Wendigo was always one to embody the strong, silent type after all; only speaking when the situation called for it and those only really arose back within the relative safety of headquarters or the rather isolated quarters that the Agent had been assigned. Opinion or no, the last three remaining Coalition troopers and their attempts to fortify their last position within the underground facility left Wendigo with only one conclusion; the control room, the central piece that had been the puppeteer of all activities within the facility below ground. Whatever projects that had been undertaken within those now harrowed halls had been passed through the terminals held within that space now occupied by the enemy. The Agent knew without a doubt that they were going to do everything within their power to ensure that they wiped the terminals clean of any stored data and haul it off to report it back to their superiors-- If that were to happen? It would spell failure for Wendigo but also spread anxiety throughout the Imperial circles; what secrets were uncovered to be used against them?

Fortunately, for those watching and waiting within the core of Sith Empire space, their faith in their entrusted agent was not misplaced. Time was indeed of the essience, the longer the Coalition was left to fortify the room and prepare themselves? The harder the fight would be and the more data they would have been able to extract and, whilst Wendigo was certain that any attempt to upload recovered data to the surface to OPFOR operatives would be met with failure thanks to diligent Imperial countermeasures; even the best security in facilities such as these had a habit of being wormed into and exploited and it was this degree of uncertainty that had led Wendigo to his next move upon the confined chessboard. Just as Wendigo rounded the corner to gain visual confirmation on the entrance, sudden blaster bolts flew towards him and scorched the otherwise chrome-clad walls that formed the long-winded passageways across the facility; the Agent just barely avoiding a glancing blow to his attire thanks to some otherworldly luck. Where one rifle began, the other two soon began joining in unison, streaks of red and blue plasma whizzing past the hunkered down Operative's head and sending sparks flying and leaving scorch marks in their wake.

Evidently, brute force was an option for those with a death wish; an alternative had to be found.

Fortunately, an underground facility was seldom lacking options for altenative routes and the best one that came to mind? A grate leading to a ventilation shaft was pried and soon enough Wendigo slipped himself inside, starting to crawl through the intricate systems that no doubt had kept the facility flowing with breathable air-- It was surprising that it had managed to keep doing so even after all this time but the Agent had his priorities set in stone with no chance for deviation. Soon enough after some choice navigation, the Agent peeked through the crack of the grate to the trio that had their back turned, evidently focused all too much upon the 'where' and 'when' their singular hunter was to reveal himself. There was nothing more to be said.

The echoed hiss of a suppressed weapon errupted, mixed with the tangable screams of those that felt its bite until nothing more than a notable click came from the rifle-- Followed by the clatter of three bodies hitting the floor.

Three down. Zero to go.

The data was secure, the Coalition had gathered no secrets and the nature of the work deep under the ground remained an enigma for those who needn't know. As the Agent slipped from the vents and began to make his exfil, the sound of several boots moving with haste echoed through the hallways. As Wendigo went one way, the Sith had sent a team of their own to secure the site. Through the mix of red and black uniforms, the barking of orders and the priming of weapons, the Agent slipped into the shifting tide of Legionaries. Where was he to go now? It wasn't clear... Save for one thing. A hand reaching to the side of his helmet as a singular voice spoke up through the commlink;

<:: This is Wendigo. Mission complete.
 
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A white cloak covered most of Izel, tattered and torn. Covering his thermal-under garments which were keeping him alive, to put it bluntly.
He left a trail of footprints through the snow, though beyond his eyeline, just in front of him a hill stood. Wiping his nose, a simple sigh would leave his thin lips. He would promptly drop his backpack, covering it in a pile of snow. Before continuing on.
As he reached the peak of the hill it would reveal a small camp laying at the bottom of the other side, a single campfire in the middle. Izel's clenched fist up to this point would relax, allowing a small sphere to drop out of it, hitting the snow with a thud. After few seconds, it would spring to life, remaining an inch beneath the snow rolling down the hill towards the camp. A crooked smile filling Izel's face, his blood red eyes lighting up at the droid.
His eyes would close briefly, awaiting something. Countless ideas floating through Izel's head, possibilities, options, choices. His first chance to prove himself. Attatched to his right leg, was a small metal bar attatched by a ring clipped onto his belt.
Eventually a ping would emit from his wrist-communicator, a holo-image projecting from it. One of a radar, pinging heat signatures from around the camp. Soon after the small sphere would happily return to Izel, pouncing back up into his hand.
 

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