The Shadow of Unity (TSE Dominion of Malachor V)

[Darth Ophidia]

Malachor V
- Once a world of ashen wastes, fractured rock, and lost history; now, it is a coveted gem in the Stygian Caldera. With each passing day, the Sith Empire spreads its domain, claiming its rightful systems: Krayiss, Korriban, Ziost, Thule, and now its eyes turn to Malachor.

The planet’s situation is contentious. On one side, sith-loyalists lobby furiously for the planet’s annexation into the Empire. On the other, a staunch anarchistic isolationism rejects imperial claims on Malachor’s free cities. The dialogue has broken down and the two sides frequently come to blows in the streets, one way or another. The relations are volatile and ripe for manipulation.

Meanwhile, the Saaraishash reports that far into the un-reformed wastelands of Malachor V there is a temple. one not of the dark, but of the light: It is a temple to the Silver Jedi Shadows. This temple is an insult to the planet’s history and heritage, and it is a danger to Malachor as well as the Empire.
It must be destroyed!

Historians seeking the assumed ruin of the ancient Trayus Academy were surprised to find it largely whole and very much inhabited. It seems one Circe Savan turned the academy into her own, personal laboratory, then left it behind upon her death. Now, two forces fight for dominion over the structure: One, a flock of sithspawn and various vicious experiments. The other, a group of robed cultists attempting to cage the beasts and bring them under their power for some nefarious purpose, unaligned with the Empire’s cause.

This is not the only place cultists have popped up. Apparently, a group of adventurers trekked into the wild seeking an artefact of tremendous power and importance to Malachor. They found a black pyramid amidst a field of crumpled rock and ruins. Thinking they had found their treasure, the group began scaling the pyramid’s sheer exterior. However, none returned from the expedition. None, that is, but one. Weeks later, a lone survivor wandered back into relative civilisation. Amidst his mad ravings there was a warning. The death cults had spread past Mirial. They had come to Malachor and sought to find an ancient relic. A weapon to destroy the Empire in one fell swoop.

To find the legendary Mass Shadow Generator.

This weapon cannot fall into their hands, destroy it lest it is used against us.

Objectives:

1. Help Sith Loyalists bring about the annexation of Malachor V into The Sith Empire. Use subterfuge if you can, but force if you must.
2. Lay the Silver Shadow Temple in ruin, destroy all resistance, capture the inhabitants and bring them for questioning.
3. Clean out Trayus Academy/Circe’s Abandoned Lab. Ally with one side or the other, or simply exterminate both parties. What treasures do you find within?
4. Make sure the Mass Shadow Generator does not fall into cultist hands*. Exterminate as many cultists as possible, but do try to bring some in for questioning.
5. Make your own objective!

*OOC Note:

Spoiler

As the Mass Shadow Generator is considered a superweapon, and superweapons are banned on Chaos, we strongly discourage anyone from trying to claim, restore or use it. That being said, there may be other relics to be looted from the site.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective 3: Operation Round-Up

The first thing she had felt was joy that the Trayus Academy was still standing. It was an ancient repository of knowledge of the Sith, a place of absolute raw dark side power. The secrets that could be found within could be beyond priceless for uncovering some of their lost arts. The things they could do with such a location, fully refurbished and in the service of the Sith... it just made her smile. That was until the second bit of news hit, and her happiness turned to rage.

Circe Savan, a name the galaxy likely wanted to forget, had taken the place and defiled it, making it her own personal laboratory. Worst yet, a band of cultists had taken up residence within the academy after Circe's death, with her various experiments and Sithspawn running amok. The ancient academy needed to be cleansed before any further damage could be inflicted, before any more knowledge was perverted and warped by these cultists, aberrations, or whatever Circe had done to the place.

High above it, a piercing screech would distract those within from their continued fight for dominance. Fear was attached that shriek, a powerful fear that could worm its way into the very hearts of those that heard it. Black wings broke the stormy sky, carrying the Lady of Secrets to Trayus. It was the first time she would ride her Kakdijs Zuta into a battle, her precious Elidibus. Behind them came the transports, loaded with soldiers and Sith adepts that served at her command.

They had one simple directive: Kill everything.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Malachor V
Chorlian Sector

The atmosphere buckled as the Blade of Fate effortlessly transitioned from high to low orbit around Malachor V, the clouds quaking as the spear-like bow of the warship punched through the cover. The Dark Lord's flagship idled around a hundred and sixty kilometers above the mountainous surface of the planet, maintaining geosynchronous orbit in conjunction with the planet's rotation.

The master of the Empire himself stood upon the vessel's bridge looking down on a holographic layout of the planet's surface for several kilometers beneath the ship's location.

At the center of this map was a large open field surrounded by dizzyingly tall mountain ranges, and in it stood an edifice of Jedi ignorance. When the Silver Jedi temporarily owned the world of Malachor V they had built a temple to house the Antarian Rangers operating within the sector. With their retreat from the area it had been left behind and manned by a sizeable crew and defense force, but whether or not they had been willfully abandoned or elected to stay behind despite the protests of their brethren was something that the Dark Lord didn't care to know.

They would be eradicated either way.

"Launch assault craft and maintain air superiority. Their suffering will be legendary."

 

[Zef Halo]

BLADE OF FATE
STILETTO TWO-ONE

Red lights flashed signalling the orders that came from the bridge. The hangar of the warship entered operational phase and it was only Legion troopers boarding dropships while maintenance crew were finishing their final checks.

One by one the men and women of the Sith Empire's war machine entered the assault crafts that would lead them towards their destination.

::...meaning we expect resistance.:: Scipio finished his sentence while the hull underneath his feet shook. Engines were on and the craft was off.

:: Do we expect actual Jedi, LT? :: Sgt. Nava's voice came questioning.

:: Maybe. Maybe not. 're you scared, Sergeant? ::

:: Not at all, Sir! :: Came the woman's determined voice in return.

:: A'ight. Good. Cause if we do meet us some Jedi we'll be killin' 'em and takin' their scalps. ::

:: Their scalps, Sir? ::

:: That's right, soldier. Their damn scalps. Now I sure ain't gone all the way from Bastion to damn Malac- whatever its name is to be runnin' away from some Jedi. ::

:: Sir, is it true the Dark Lord's aboard the ship? ::

:: Yes, it is, soldier and we'll make sure we get him his scalps. Legion ain't no underdog to the Sith in Jedi killin' sport and we'll be showin' that to 'em today. Got it? ::

:: Yes, Sir. ::

:: Now, check your gear and hold on tight cause this pilot's a force damn rookie. :: He announced as he was rocked side to side by the pilot's degenerate piloting skills.

​

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Bellum]

Location | Malachor V, En route to Mass Shadow Generator
Objective | Secure and prevent activation
Company | TSE Soldiers

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Over a dozen MAAC/iv transports had been dispatched under the charge of Vexen, directly en route to the nearest landing point that would be capable of providing suitable space to deploy. Over least half of these transports were filled with AT-MTW assault walkers to provide a fearsome amount of firepower. While their primary function was to set up a perimeter around the Mass Shadow Generator to prevent it from being activated, the walkers would have more than enough firepower to destroy it if necessary. A shame if it had come to such a stage, but one that had to be executed less they lose their fleet and troops to its activation. The transports laden with walkers and troops would fly down to the surface, escorted by a squadron of fighters, making way to their designated staging area.

The first of the transports would make landfall as their ramps deployed. The thundering echoes of heavy foot stomps could be heard as one of two walkers assigned to each transport began to storm out. They still had a ways to go before they arrived at the site, but the convoy of over sixteen AT-MTWs and couple hundred troops were already making slow progress. The terrain was littered with boulders and stone, all crushed into dust and pebbles by the large walkers as they crunched along in a single file line, accompanied by several platoons of soldiers on foot. Truly it was a terrifying and impressive display of power that would likely be spotted by the death cultists who came to Malachor V in the attempts to claim the magnificent Mass Shadow Generator for their own purposes.

Vexen was stood within one of the AT-MTW's, surrounded by troops and bathed in a dim red light from its interior. All around him, troops were prepping their equipment and weapons. He would turn to one soldier who was indistinguishable from the rest in their standard armor before speaking in a vocoded voice, " Lieutenant, once we arrive I want the troops spread out between the walkers around the generator. The droids will be deployed to provide cover and support, whereas you and your team will accompany me to clear out any of those festering roaches from our target. Am I understood, Lieutenant? " The soldier would perk up and offer a crisp salute before responding, " Yes, my Lord. " Lieutenant Saryn, who had become a survivor of the events that transpired on Mirial had become Vexen's personal assistant on the battlefield. As such she seemed to have lost her typical stuttery tone of voice; perhaps out of fear of what Vexen would do to her if she continued.

The convoy would arrive at their destination as the walkers trudged into place, forming a perimeter around the great pyramid. The soldiers accompanying the walkers on foot would begin to fortify and entrench the surrounding area as slots opened up in the underbelly of every walker to allow for additional troops having been inside to drop out to the ground. Once the soldiers had been deployed there would be a series of hisses as the front part of every AT-MTW's underside would open up like a maw, a large droid deployment rack slowly pushing out and lowering itself to the ground. Pairs of SE-K9 'Fangs' would drop from the rack by the dozens, slowly marching out with massive durasteel shields as they formed defensive walls in the gaps between walkers.

A dozen smaller squads had been formed to prepare to enter the Mass Shadow Generator and clear out whatever residents decided to seek refuge within it. Anything that tried to approach the pyramid that was not of the Sith Empire, would find it very difficult to get near without being immediately annihilated by the defenses put in place. Vexen would drop down accompanied by his Lieutenant and her squad as they were the first to enter the Mass Shadow Generator, his lightsaber ignited in one hand to illuminate its dark corridors with its sinister red glow. It was time to play hide and seek.

 

[Juliet Varos]

Malachor V
Objective: 1

Juliet Varos, newly inducted into the Sith Empire, was on a mission. She was on a mission to assist Sith loyalists on the planet bring about annexation into the Empire. That meant going to their meeting hall, greeting the loyalists, and strategizing. And as the only Sith currently there, that meant she was in charge. Juliet liked being in charge. A lot. Of course, that meant dealing with the rabble, and she so hated doing such a thing.

Currently, she was standing in front of them all in their hall, and berating them for their stupid questions. One of them had asked why she wasn't in black, and now she was massaging her temples in frustration.

"Not all Sith wear black, alright? Now, may we please move on t-"
Another idiotic simpleton raised his hand.
"Why don't you got one of them Darth names? I thought all the Sith had them cool names."
More people muttered their agreement.
Frustrated beyond belief, she stood, raising her voice.
"Enough! Not all Sith wear black, though most do, and I do not because I find it to be a dreadful color better suited to those merely playing at power attempting to look intimidating! I do not have a Darth name because I do not need one, I am Juliet Varos, and if you question me again, I will pull your organs out through your throat!"
They went quiet, after that.
She sighed, and re-oriented herself.
"Now, then. We must move on. I have brought new uniforms for you all."
"New uniforms? Why wou-"
"Because we must intimidate them, and black is not an intimidating color, so I brought dark red for you, the perfect negotiation color for when you need to project confidence and intimidation."
As her uniforms were handed out to the loyalists, she couldn't help a smirk. When they spoke of her glorious reign, they would say it began here, in this meeting hall. Dark Lady Juliet does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Malachor, streets
Objective: 1, Cross off Names on a List
Enemies: Dissension
Allies: Imperialism​

In every movement, there were great minds and outspoken supporters. The Free People of Malachor V were no different. When the banners of the Sith Empire appeared on the horizon near halfway across the galaxy, whispers began immediately. Lines were drawn in sand, and people took stances firmly on either side.

The Loyalists, those who sought to subjugate their planet to the rule of the Empire, worked quickly to form relations and work themselves into the good graces of the government that they hoped would soon be their own. They provided [member="Darth Saarai"] and his subordinates with a laundry list of names, people on the other side who would require convincing, and another significantly shorter list.

That list was handed to Alkor, and as peeled the dark scarf from his lips and blew a plume of billowing gray, he read it over slowly. "Record Keeper Janus," he repeated the name first on the list. His jaw set for a moment as he reviewed the rest of the names. Nonles, statesmen, people with relative power at a local level. All names of people who would resist the transitjon, regardless of how sweet the deal.

There were Sith sent to deal with the Loyalists and work together for a more political movement, working on the surface to gain ground with the people and earn their respect. But a Sith Empire was always ready to employ Sith tactics

And Alkor spent the better part of his life in the grim business.

The task of culling the verbose fell to the Jen'jidai, a face without a name or import who could be disavowed without batting an eye. He stood in the middle of a crowded plaza, cries of "they've come to give us back our birthright!" One man screamed among the crowd, eyes raised to the ships that looked in the sky overhead. "They came to make us Sith again!"

A large group slowly amassed around the fervent man and hurled both praises and criticisms, all the while growing passionate and fueling his own fire. Alkor ambled past, capitalizing on their disinterest to move freely.

"The Lower City Archives," he muttered softly as he secured the scarf firmly over his face and turned the corner. "Should be just down this way..."

1​

 

[Darth Morbian]

Malachor V
Chorlian Sector


"Their suffering would be legendary...."

These's words brought a cruel smirk to the young Knight's face, as he heard his father speak them. "Perhaps a few survivors could be acquired.... for.... scientific purposes.... My Lord." he proposed, head lowered slightly in respect for the might Sith commanding this offensive strike against the mostly abandoned Silver Jedi outpost. He was serving this time at his father's side. To witness the Emperor in action, spearheading an offensive.... this was a learning opportunity the young Zambrano was not about to miss out on again. He missed the chance on Ziost, so when he asked for his Father's permission to accompany him, the pleasure at the affirmative response was almost palpable.

Perhaps he would even get the chance to show his capabilities in live combat for his father. Oh the thought sent a thrill of electricity up the young Knight's spine. He couldn't tell which excited him more.... Killing and torturing the Jedi below, or potentially drawing some measure of pride from his Father? A few moments of introspection confirmed it was the latter prospect, not the former. Combat with the Light was commonplace enough.... Combat with the audience of the God-King? Now that was a rare opportunity.

He then began devising new torture and maiming methods to display on the Silvers later for his father's approval. Oh he couldn't wait. Eagerly he awaited the order to head to the surface, to begin their personal attendance of the bloody massacre to come.

All life for the God-King.​

​

​

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Komo]

Malachor V
Objective 2 - Destruction of the Jedi Temple

The Omen slowly made its approach to the Blade of Fate as it idled in the sky high above the mountainous surface of the planet. The small corvette was a tiny sight when compared to the gigantic scale of the Dark Lord’s capital ship. Boarding the monstrous ship in a smaller shuttle,Greta made her way towards the vessel’s bridge where the Sith Lord would most likely be, footsteps of her heeled boots announcing her presence to those around her. A few more steps brought her next to the Dark Lord as the Sith Knight gave a bow and the customary greeting of "My Lord." before giving a curt nod to Sethaius Zambrano himself.

Glancing at the holographic layout, she spotted the object in question, a temple built by the Silver Jedi when they had occupied the planet. Naturally, that preposterous sight had to go.They were claiming Malachor V in the name of the Sith Empire, and to have any form of Jedi temple in the planet itself was blasphemous. As Lord Carnifex gave the order for the assault to begin, stating that their suffering will be legendary, she replied in answer. “Most certainly, my lord. The temple will be replaced with one of our glorious own.” Greta had come to Malachor V prepared and ready for battle and she’ll be damned if she did not satiate her blade’s hunger for the empire’s enemies before the day ended.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Morbian"]

 

[Ignatius]

Objective 1: Be Annoying to [member="Alkor Centaris"],
Objective 2: Objective 1 + 5

I crouched over the top of a building ledge. Holding a list of contacts that I was given to clean up. Dirty work that most others would not want to do. Why was I given a list as well? I had showed interest in the Sith Empire, and I had to prove my worth. While this task was also given to those who were likely part of the... whatever the hell they were called. I wasn't part of them though. They were testing me to see where I would fit best. However, I could clearly see the man back from the training grounds. Apolyon? Atlas? Alkor? Not sure what his name was, but I had questions for him. Some that were about the comment he made about my father. How much did he know about him?

I saw him walking past a crowd of people. Taking that in, I dropped from my ledge. This time landing on my feet, and aided with the force. Rolling to reduce the impact, I came up to my feet and ran at the man. Trying to catch up to him. He turned around the corner. I didn't know if he wanted me following him or not, but I had to know more about my father. Why was this man, clearly not a Sith, allies with my monster of a father?

Instead of directly going around the corner, I waited a bit before I turned as well. Taking a few more steps after him, and making sure to keep my distance.

"Once again, you are messing with someone you shouldn't."
"What do you mean?"

The stupid Zabrak once more trying to get into my way. She and I were on different assignments, but could still talk to one another due to the rings we wore. She could somehow tell what I was up to. I didn't care though. Continuing to talk to one another through the force,

"I can hear your thoughts nerf herder. I know you are going after the Jen'jidai Alkor. He is not someone you just walk up on. You are lucky that he even senses you and is actually wrapping around to get your back side."
"I don't care. I need to know about my father."
"Just like you needed to know about the Sith. Alkor is not one to screw around with. He likes it rough."
"Stop the sexual innuendos. They are not good."
"You thought it was funny."
"Shut it."

I then reached down and took off the ring from my finger. Placing it into my pocket, and then followed after the Dark Jedi. Hoping that I was right and that Kinta's information about the man was wrong.

 

[Syss Rembala]

Location: En route.
Objective: 2. Destroy the Silver Shadow Temple
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] ~ [member="Darth Morbian"] ~ [member="Greta Kohler"]
Enemies: Jedi Temple's inhabitants.

A smile was neatly set upon the acolyte's lips as she sat on the floor, legs crossed in one of the empty chambers of the freighter that was carrying her, as well as other members of the Empire, to lay siege in Malchor V. The white eyes were covered by closed lids as she concentrated her mind on the efforts to come. Syss had always made a point of readying herself for such occurrences as today's, it was necessary, time was unreadable and there was only so much one could do to prepare. Neglecting this simple, meditative task was not something the Umbaran was willing to do. Her attunement to the Dark-side was meant to be at the peak of its condition if she was to be faced with battle, no less would satisfy the high, often unachievable standards she set for herself. But no other thing could be expected from a devout, strange being such as Syss. She'd never stop thriving to become the darkest version of herself for the sake of the Sith, and this made her a psychotic fanatic as much as it forged her into a calculating and dangerously unpredictable young woman.

She bid the Dark Force to creep up inside her and consume her, to imbue her with a strength and determination that in her case surpassed the mere physical empowering. The presence of it permeating her from the very marrow of her bones to the outer layers of her skin instilled such a determination, a need to serve and honor the power that was gifted to her she could barely contain her need to land and destroy the wretched abode of the ones who dared question the supreme holiness of the Dark-side. Ziost had already injected in her the pleasure of war once more, but today she was presented with the opportunity to destroy that which she hated most in the entire expanse of the Galaxy. Faced with such a situation, even the controlled and collected Umbaran was having a hard time keeping the absolute coldness that characterized her.

Syss could feel through the Force how the freighter got closer to the planet's surface, and as the creeping smile on her lips widened, she opened her eyes revealing that unnerving pair of colorless irises that often reminded people of those of an undead corpse. They shone full of a determined, powerful intent. Today she would fight with a renewed fervor, and she stood up bidding herself to keep the excitement at bay until the time of battle. A clear mind was better than a rabid one, always. Walking away from the empty chamber she headed to the bridge of the freighter. She heard some soldiers mention that the Blade of Faith had too entered Malachor V's atmosphere, headed to the Jedi Temple to begin their attack. They'd support the Dark Lord's ship and descend after them. The Umbaran simply looked straight ahead, patiently waiting as she seethed on all the energy being canalized through her gaunt structure.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

MALACHOR V
Objective 4: The Mass Shadow Generator

The vast, obsidian pyramid stood defiant against the darkened sky, an occasional glint of red reflecting from the many lines carved into its shape. A roar tore the sky above the drum and hum of war machines deploying and surrounding the machine. The source of the roar was unseen but for the oscillation of low clouds and wisps of smoke around the pseudo-dragon’s cloaked shape, carrying the similarly translucent shape of its pale rider.

The beast swept down from height in a break-neck dive before unfolding its wings and turning to twist its trajectory around the Pyramid. A shrill shriek cut through the ghostly nothingness, carrying with it the aura of terror that boomed from the beast. Its claws latched on to a corner on the second level of the pyramid, wings beat to stabilise it as the second foot found purchase. The long, charcoal tail lashed against the side of the pyramid, creating a cascade of dust.

The head, perched on top of a serpentine neck, arched and chomped down on a cultist as it came charging out of the pyramid’s interior.

Darth Ophidia climbed down from her mount and set her feet on the second plateau.

“Zhelen, imrizi!"

With legs still dangling from its maw, the Sithspawn looked down at its master before launching itself back into flight. Its cloaked form became steadily more obscured against the sky as it turned to gliding above, watching and waiting.

The Rattataki plucked one of the two lightsabres from her hilt and turned it in her palm, hiding it along her lower arm as she stepped into the pyramid. The lightless interior enveloped her like an old friend.

[member="Kor Vexen"]

 

[Juliet Varos]

Malachor V
Objective One

Once her new uniforms had been passed out and changed into, Juliet examined her trainees with great pride. Now they looked like proper negotiators.
"Wonderful, darlings! You all are one step closer to becoming official envoys of the great Sith Empire. Now, onto the ne-"
That same idiotic man was raising his hand again.
"I guess I understand the color part, but why do we gotta wear something so fine? It feels weird on my skin."
"Because, as I have said multiple times, now, in order to properly go through with the plan of negotiations, you must look intimidating. And part of looking intimidating and proper is wearing fine clothes-"
"That don't make sense. You're wearin' plenty of fancy clothes, and I don't find you intimidatin' at all.

Her eyebrow twitched. She had had enough of this foolery. She strode toward him, held out her hand, and called upon the Dark Side. She had made a threat to any that questioned her once more, and she carried through, to the horror of those with her. When she was done, some of the man's insides had squirted onto her, and she made a face as she used her spare handkerchief to wipe it away.
"Do not confuse me for some common union boss you may question at any time, or a motivational speaker. I am here because I was commanded to be here, and no other reason. If I had a chance, I would eviscerate the lot of you because I find you contemptible and utterly disgusting. But I have been charged with ensuring ties between you and the Sith Empire are secure, and I aim to do so. Now, may we move on, or does anyone else have a question?"
No one spoke.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Malachor V
Objective #1
Same Objective: [member="Juliet Varos"], [member="Ignis Imura"], [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Malachor.

Mal·a·chor
Malə'kôr
An ancient Sith world that has 'free cities' built on it, which means that you can get away with all sorts of crazy things and no one investigates and sometimes there are jobs and the jobs mean that you get to cut people up and play with whatever comes out of them and every street corner has a new chemical, new smell, new sight, new victim, new, new, new, and you could feel all the things that had died and gone away on Malachor and it was so beautifully dark it was like having electricity constantly tingling across your skin and in your blood and it made you want to smile so wide your head would pop right off and laugh until you couldn't speak anymore.

Can you use it in sentence? Yes. Can you use it in several. Also yes, thank you for asking, don't mind if I do!

Sintel Kay loved living on Malachor in what might qualify as hiding but he considered training. Sintel loved killing things here. And when he saw the Empire's banners a-flutter, he knew those days were coming well to an end. He was a bit afraid, he swallowed dry in his throat, he wasn't sure what to think. I mean, he thought of himself as a Sith, yes, as more Sith than some of those dry bastards who lounged around in their flagships, more of a Sith than that worthless wretch who cut off his arms and left him for dead in the jungles where he wasted years of his life squirming and relearning, but he almost wanted to thank him, too - almost. His arms were full of feeling and touch and shiver, and when all that was taken away and replaced by itching, phantom aches and - eventually - cold metal, it was barely, just barely an even trade for all the tasty new things he got to try when he was living like a damn filthy animal in the jungle. He still wanted that Dark Lord dead, and for all he knew, that Dark Lord wanted him dead.

The best thing he could do was pray, pray, pray and make himself useful for the new bosses. And naturally, he was going to do that the only way he knew how.

He wasn't quite sure whether the people he killed in their sleep were loyalists or separatists, but when he was done nailing them to the wall, smeared blood all over, spraypainted Aurbesh reading "OBEY THE NEW MASTERS" with a cutesy little Empire logo underneath it, when all that was done and unsaid and screamed, waiting for whoever marched into town just the right way - and currently attracting the disgust and horror of the commonfolk - he was waiting to wave and take credit.

"Hail to the Sith!" The gas-masked man shouted, shiny black leather covering his gaunt frame and cybernetic limbs. "Hail to the Dark Lords!"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Five shapes emerged from the Blade of Fate's ventral hangar, two Teth-class Barges and three MAAC/iv dropships, followed shortly by a swarm of the new model TIE Fighters and Interceptors. The Shadow Temple responded by erecting an energy shield that protected the fortress from air and long-range guard assaults.

It would have to be taken the hard way, exactly how the Dark Lord planned.

The two Teth barges would at two converging angles that would eventually intersect right at the Jedi Temple, while the MAAC/ivs moved up much closer to the base to disembark a grand total of twelve hundred infantrymen and six AT-A/RWs. The Teth barges would likely disgorge eight AT-A/RWs alongside four AT-PAT heavy walkers, the main driving force behind the assault. A hailstorm of fire and fury would descend upon the Jedi base, the shield peppered with hundreds of individual energy impacts as all firepower was concentrated on the energy shield.

Meanwhile the Dark Lord conferred with his son and Lady Kohler, whom he had fought alongside during the re-pacification of Ziost. "The neophytes and grunts are nothing but fodder, it's the commanders I want. Kill the lesser dogs at your leisure, but attempt to incapacitate those that show some considerable skill. And if that proves impossible? I will not lose any sleep." He beckoned and they would follow to join him on his personal craft, the Crestfallen, for a combat insertion at the point where the battle grew thickest. The vessel held enough fire power to reduce any opposition to ash, and its shields were capable of withstanding anything the Silver Jedi had to throw at it.

And he would make them bleed, he would make them all bleed.

[member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Darth Morbian"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Syss Rembala"]​

 

[Komo]

Objective 2 : The Jedi Temple - Search for the Jedi Commanders

The Dark Lord spoke announcing his plans of the Silver Jedi personnel guarding the temple. He’d cared naught about those of the lower rung, with only a concern for the commanders. He wanted them alive and incapacitated if possible for he presumably had other plans for grander purposes such as possibly converting them to the dark side. The Sith Empire had always need of brave and skilled warriors, and just how sweet would Jedi converts be? But of course if that didn’t work out, than the other option would also be just as enjoyable the very same.

With the preparations done, and the assault craft and barges all heading towards the temple, Greta followed behind, face filled with glee and excitement as she remained two-no three paces behind the Sith Lord as he began to make his way towards his personal craft, the Crestfallen.

She replied quickly, without much delay, acknowledging the order given out by her superior. “Yes, Dark Lord. I will see your will be done.” Once the small group of the Dark Lord’s retinue boarded the craft, it began to head for a combat insertion somewhere in the heart of the battle that had already commenced. It was only a matter of time now, and she shivered in excitement of the battle to come as adrenaline began to surge through her veins in preparations for the battles to come.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Morbian"] [member="Syss Rembala"]

 

[Darth Morbian]

"Yes, my Lord." the young Sith responded to his father's command. His heart pounded, as the darkness welled within him, his thirst for the violence that was soon to be visited upon the Jedi almost palpable around him. Especially after the foes faced on Ziost, Sethaius practically lusted for victims who could feel actual pain. He focused, channeled, and centered himself, stoking the fires of his fury, the boiling rage that would be his might to wield against the Jedi.

The most beautiful thing about the Dark Side, was that when one built themselves up, others could, and often did, feed on that rage, stoking the fires within their own hearts. The ship would slowly grow into a flying canister of focused fury, concentrated rage, that upon opening and releasing it's contents, would result in mass genocide upon the Jedi. How many will we capture? How many will father permit me to keep. What rack shall I fasten them to first? Will they scream? Will they cry? He thought to himself, eyes closed in meditation. A cruel smile cut across his face, as he all but breathed the words, "They will at least feel the pain.... What more could I ask for?" he slowly opened his eyes, the rich color of corruption burning as he sat there.

Death approached on swift metal wings, flying swiftly to visit terror the likes of which these Jedi had never known.

And Seth couldn't be more ready.​

​

​

[member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Syss Rembala"]​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Whether it had been the Imura pup's request, or the Sith and their knowledge that Alkor had a history with the boy's father, the Jen'jidai neither knew nor cared. He gave them only one specific instruction about the Malachor campaign. "The boy can watch, but keep him out of my way."

He could feel the youth somewhere, a signature lost within the roaring crowd or beyond. The worst case scenario, as Alkor kept replaying in his mind, was that the child had something to prove. Ignis might end up dead, or worse.

He might blow Alkor's cover.

The Dark Jedi Master turned a corner and saw only dim lights as far as the alleyway stretched. The Free City had their merits, but the master architect deserved to be shot. Every home sat atop or at the bottom of a stairwell, dug into the rocky face of Malachor's surface. Due to gravitic anomalies in the system, it was possible to manipulate matter in ways that other systems would not allow. These cities were like none other in all the galaxy.

It was due to this enough that people could live so closely together, while simultaneously also having a great deal of space for themselves. It also caused a great deal of reluctance within the Free Sith to compromise their way of life. They never paid anyone to do this for them.

This was the product of their ingenuity.

"Ah, welcome," the warm voice of a man with his nose in a tome greeted. "What brings you to my humble archive, sir?" He did not look up at Alkor, but his smile was ever present.

Alkor turned the sign on the door slowly so that it read "closed" before he entered the building entirely. "Secrets," Alkor replied. "Knowledge." The sorts of things Sith encouraged in their apprentices, and according to the footnotes, the proper way to get Janus' attention.

The blue haired man closed his book promptly and eyed the Corellian through his bifocals. "That accent," he strained for a moment to place it. "Muddled over many years, a splash of the dull, obvious Courscanti, the higher society Basic of the Muun... you've been many places, haven't you?"

Alkor paused as he considered the man, but his breath remained even. He could feel the subtle wash of Force energies over his body, feeling him out. This man was ancient, and his power far more than any simple librarian.

"Corellian," he said at last. Alkor matched the Sith's gaze. "Ah, I struck a nerve. And there, the reason you hide it- such magnificent hatred."

Alkor grunted in surprise when the impact came. He hurtled backward, slammed into the wall, and Janus stared up at him with a wicked grin. "Did the Loyalists warn you?" he asked. "That we Lords of the Sith will not merely submit to be ruled?"

Alkor growled as his fingers tore at the stone wall, and blood blossomed beneath his fingertips. There was a certain futility in his initial response that smacked of feral instinct.

That was, after all, the basis of the Dark Side.

"Tell me who sent you," Janus asked, "so I know who to address the body to."

[member="Ignis Imura"]​

 

[Ignatius]

The signature of the Dark Jedi was getting further away. I could feel him even try to hide himself a little. It was getting harder and harder to find him. Was he trying to lose me, or just test me? I couldn't tell, and I didn't care. I closed my fists, and rushed around the corner, Stopping in my tracks as I saw the man walking down the length of the alley. I stood there for a moment before twisting my body to be flush against the wall. However, it didn't seem that he saw me as he decided to enter one of the buildings. Cracking my knuckles lightly, I followed him. Not opening the door, instead, I opted to stand outside.

Focusing upon the force, I used telekinesis to check the door. See if it was locked or not. It seemed to have locked. Looking past the sign that now stated the place was closed, I watched as Alkor began to talk to another man. A few words were spoken between them. What surprised me was the sudden, and almost explosive use of the force in such a short time, that if you weren't paying attention for it, it was gone in a moment.

Alkor was thrown across the room with the force. Pined to the wall. Blasting in was no way to get in. I couldn't ever fight a person who was powerful enough to take the master and throw him like a rag doll. Once more, I felt the lock up with the force. Concentrating upon it, I didn't want to break my cover, or expose myself to the Sith Lord. Drawing inward upon myself, I attempted to suppress my signature while working slowly on the lock.

Breathing in, and out slowly, I prodded the lock slowly and gently. Moving one of the pieces up, trying to feel the resistance of it wanting to move. Then all of a sudden the part slipped just a smidgen. There. That is likely where it was used to sit when a key was placed in it. Slowly I jiggled the peace. Attempting to see if it was loose. As soon as I did, I knew where I needed to go again. Smiling to myself, I then began to work on the second part. Stopping for a second to look at the two inside who were fighting one another, I needed to hurry up.

"You can do this Ignis. Just work on it one part at a time."

[member="Alkor Centaris"],​

 

[Syss Rembala]

Location: En route.
Objective: 1. Destroy the Temple
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] ~ [member="Darth Morbian"] ~ [member="Greta Kohler"]
Enemy: Temple's inhabitants.


Not a single inch of her body had moved from her position in the long minutes she waited. The heavy freighter's purpose was the defense of the more important ship, which was not only the vessel best suited for combat but also carried within its metallic entrails the supreme leader of the Empire. Syss could expand in her mind how the following events would ensue: she would be called to board a smaller star-fighter that would reach the surface of Malachor V, she would disembark onto one of the thickest areas of combat and then, the Force would guide her to destroying the beings that insulted the very essence of the glorious Darkside. A few hours ago a though had been crossing her mind, maybe she would have been better suited to turn the tables in favor of the Sith loyalists and aid in the annexation of the planet by means of her precious manipulative abilities. However, she had come to the conclusion that despite her talent at subterfuge and deceit, a higher ranking Sith would garner a higher probability of success. With a decision taken, she chose the second thing she was best at and the one that inspired her thirst for Darkness the most: destroying the blasphemous entity that insulted her meticulously cared belief.

Effectively, soon after she was called to board the star-fighter and only then did she start the fluid, gracious movements of her body. The robes she was wearing to cover her armor reached the floor well past her feet, and with the long, elegant strides she took the Umbaran gave the impression of being a intimidatingly thin, floating ghost. Soon she was aboard the ship and she took her place, carefully sitting with the hilts of her sabers at her hips, her pale hands softly placed over her thighs and her back pin straight, as though her backbone had been stiffened by long needles. The dark aura around her seemed to darken and become denser every passing second, floating and rushing as though it was composed of many little typhoons. She reveled in its presence.

The Crestfallen had been deployed from the Blade of Fate and that was the signal for the rest of the vessels to send their carrier starfighters behind it, so that the Empire's military and the Sith could reach the grounds of the Temple and show the wretched Jedi the true meaning of the Force. Her eye twitched slightly, almost in an imperceptible way, yet the Umbaran took in a deep breath and closed them, turning her head slightly to one side as she let the Dark consume her, pushing the deranged portion of her consciousness to the dark oblivion on her head as she disposed herself of any instinctual thought not provided by the Force itself. Her mind was meant to be kept cleansed and with her ultimate purpose crystal clear: destroy the Jedi, capture the ones worthy. Kill them all if unable to. Kill them all.