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Dominion The Siege │ SE Dominion of Voss & Folende



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The Siege
Voss
Tion Cluster
865 ABY

With the pyrrhic victory against the Silver Jedi Forces within the Ossus Hyperlane, the Sith Eternal finally brought their fleets to the culmination of their plan. The Siege of Voss was long coming - a fortress world who's very position threatened the existence of Korriban; and without the supplies and relief from the greater Coalition, it was hung out to dry from the double front attack of the Sith and the Bryn'adul. Its surface has been strategically bombed, fleets have been driven from orbit, and only the fortresses within remain - still locked down the best of the Admiralities efforts.​
Now, the final hour has dawned - with the rise of the Sun over the mountains of Voss-Ka the Sith forces on the ground culminate to end the months of combat on the planet. With casualties heavy on the mind of every soldier, the final push is looked at with both relief and fear - for when the holdouts are gone, the Kaggath's will begin. Already rumors spread of the supposed challenge from Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf against Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden 's claim upon Voss for the Graug; but with the planet covered in both Sith and Graug forces, nobody can be sure who exactly will take the rule.​
Away from the fighting, the reestablishment of Voss as a fortress world begins once more - with fleets put on standby on the border regions, military stations cleared of their mothballs, and asteroids towed into interception paths to ensure security on the Eternal's new southern border. Enemy fleets are still in the areas, however, and patrols are increased where able to ensure no further transgressions appear - but the full destruction of any resistance is paramount to long-term security measures in the region. Multiple fleets have been deployed to pacify what is left and establish our first contact systems.​
Last, on the world of Folende, Arcturus Dinn Arcturus Dinn and Ishani Dinn Ishani Dinn move to establish the agricultural backbone the Empire has lacked since its inception. While Felucia has provided internal agriculture needs so far, the investments for such have had little return - but with Folende within the Eternal's grasp, there is an unfounded amount of potential influence from controlling the Empire's soon to be breadbasket. Due to this, challengers have come to claim the planet - while Consul have come to help establish the procedures and deals moving forward to see it done safely and efficiently.​
Objective I: The Siege
Pacify Voss, end the war that ravages the planet and partake in the lordship of the planet. Armies march on Voss-Ka to break the bunkers that remain in the mountains, and you must ensure that there are as few losses as possible; break the enemy, and claim your right to rule.​
Objective II: Land Claims
Folende has been given an elevated importance with the starving masses of the fledging Eternal government - making it highly valuable to whoever lords over it. Due to this it has become a hotly contested planet from an economic standpoint.​
Objective III: Border Fortifications
Pirate fleets, encroaching Bryn'adul and Sith Empire fleets threaten the edges of the Sith Hegemony. Break them, turn them back, and ensure that our control over the region can not be contested in the near future.​

 

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V O S S

In an uncharacteristic move, vessels associated with the former Dark Lord of the Sith; Darth Carnifex, found themselves working alongside those of the Sith Eternal.
Ships bearing the seal of the former Emperor, the hex charm encircled by a simplified representation of the Mortis monolith, swarmed over Voss. Warships disgorged troop transports and atmospheric craft to launch coordinate strikes against native settlements. Larger transports carried vehicles; artillery and mechanized infantry, into the heat of battle. Warriors bearing that same standard rushed forward, blasters blazing and lightsabers humming in a mad chorus of violence.
From a vantage point, the former Dark Lord watched silently. His generals and tacticians could coordinate his armies at their camp located elsewhere, he was not content to sit behind the lines and watch the battle unfold from a datascreen.
He had a plan in mind, one that required his direct hand to implement. When the Sith Empire's control was loosened off of Voss, dozens of native agents were left behind as the Silver Jedi moved in to fill that power vacuum. Some of these agents were rooted out and either incarcerated or terminated, as was to be anticipated. Some, however, managed to embed themselves so deep into Voss's administrative structure that they went unnoticed entirely.
It was time to bring those assets back into play.
Carnifex glanced down at the cliff edge he stood upon, taking a moment before leaping off the edge and gliding down to the forest floor below. Without missing a beat he rushed forward through the verdant woods, a dark shadow speeding through the twilight glens until he neared the walled perimeter of a distant estate. Propelling himself up and over the wall, Carnifex landed in a garden courtyard tended to by native gardeners. The gardeners, stunned in silence, could only watch in paralyzing terror as the Sith Lord moved quietly past them and into the house.
Inside, a senior Voss official stood waiting with his family somewhere off to the side; huddling in fear at the sudden intrusion.
But the Voss's eyes showed no fear, but rather adoration.
"Has all been made ready?" spoke Carnifex, his arms now crossing over his chest as the Voss fell to one knee at his feet. "They are, Great One. Everything has been put into motion for this very day, where we the faithful return to your flock."
Carnifex nodded, "Good. Then let it be done."
"As it was written," replied the Voss as he bowed his head low, "Your Will Be Done Across The Stars."
Carnifex moved to an adjacent chamber, one that was void of occupants. With a twitch of his finger, he closed the doors leading to the room, as well as the shutters on the nearby windows. Placing a small holocommunicator on the table, Carnifex keyed in the encrypted channel's code. His image was then projected to the holocommunicator of another Sith, one who was eagerly awaiting his call.
"Everything is in order, Raaf. You may proceed."

 
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Hilarion, the simian alien who had been in charge of managing and maintaining Folende’s machinery, sat at an old, beat up work table. Wrinkled fingers the color of tanned hide clutched at tools, performing the tedious and delicate work of repairing a broken down harvesting droid.

Others had come, brought by the Sith. Repair droids and organic mechanics worked to restore the planet’s food production. It was no easy task in terms of the labor required, but it was not one at risk of being stopped by whoever took charge of Folende.

The ape-man put the finishing touches on the droid, tightening a screw here, adjusting a dial there. At last, he flipped the automaton over and turned it on, running a diagnostic. All systems go. It was ready to begin.

Exiting the farmhouse, Hilarion carried it under one arm as he hobbled over to the edge of the fields. Overgrown crops, in this case a type of blue wheat, rippled in the wind like a rolling sea. Hilarion held out the droid and pressed a button. It hover on repulsorlifts, long blades extending like the legs of a spider, then pressed forward, a floating scythe reaping what had been sown long ago.

Hilarion watched it go until he was satisfied all was in working order. Then his yellow-eyed gaze turned upwards. Ships drifted across the sky like painted clouds, Sith vessels of all shapes and sizes. He wondered, with the sort of idle interest an apolitical citizen observes a particularly contentious election, who would come out on top. Maybe it would be one of those two kids who were the first ones to come here. More likely it would be some ambitious stranger, he supposed.

Either way, it made no real difference to him. He’d take stumbling child-kings or demented elder lords, so long as they could protect this world from the Bryn’adul horde that would wreak only destruction and death.

***​

In a vile and pernicious laboratory aboard a Sith starship, Ishani watched very different machinery churn out a very different sort of product. Her expression was contorted into a grimace, unable to hide her disgust at the sight.

“What’s the matter? You hired us to make monsters, didn’t you?”

Ishani turned toward the one who had spoken. An elder Chandra-Fan, white-furred and amber-eyed, stood a little ways to the side behind a computer. This was Khayyam, a veteran Sith alchemist carried over from the now largely defunct Primyn Group, an inner circle of elite Sith scientists and alchemists who had operated within the Sith Empire under the leadership of the late Darth Prospero. Ishani had sought out his services in order to have resources besides what Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean could provide them. After all, they couldn’t be totally reliant on whatever Maliphant could spare if they were going to win this world.

I did,” Ishani replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s still not the most pleasant sight to look at.

“Eh, you get used to it,” Khayyam said with a wave of his little pink hand.

“If it helps, you can think of it as being like a birth,” another voice, human but with a decidedly slimy quality, added. Ishani glanced over at Silas Fogg, another alchemist whom she had “hired”, albeit only because Khayyam refused to work without him. The young man was draped over a desk chair as though it were a plush couch, lazily observing the proceedings. “They’re bloody and disgusting, but every parent claims it’s worthwhile. I’d take Sithspawn over natural-born offspring any day—but either way, making them is still the fun part.”

Ishani made a face.

“Shut up, will you?” Khayyam snapped. “I can’t focus on my calculations with you running your mouth in the background.”

“And I can’t think straight with those little rat paws of yours constantly typing,” Silas fired back. “I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“Yes, you were talking to our employer, and disrespectfully at that. ‘Making them is the fun part’, good grief. You filthy lounge lizard, can’t you keep your forked tongue behind your teeth for five minutes, at least?”

“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you should use your fine alchemical skill to make your ears a little smaller.”

Khayyam rolled his eyes, but turned his attention to Ishani. “Speaking of which, where’s your friend?”

It isn’t as if he’s running late,” Ishani said. “Arcturus will be here soon.

“He does know that we can’t do anything without him, doesn’t he?” Silas said.

Yes, I’m pretty sure he knows that.” In fact, Arc had seemed excited at the prospect of creating Sithspawn. Didn’t all Sith alchemists dream of such a day?

 
The tunnel of hyperspace was a soothing image for some, including the shadowy silhouette of the Sith Lady that stood on the bridge, arms behind her back as officers went about their duties. Purple eyes, reflecting the glow of hyperspace, were deep in thought for what the day might bring. The holoprojector activating caught her attention, the Sith turning to look at the man that had forged an Empire.

"We are two minutes out, Kaine," she replied.

Streaks of blue came to an end, announcing the arrival of a new fleet of ships to the world of Voss. Consisting of vessels from both Aurora Industries and those of the Sith Empire, it was the arrival of Darth Arcanix to make good on her word to Darth Empyrean Darth Empyrean when they were on Ossus. The Graug had been given too much of a free hand within the Sith Eternal's sphere of influence, far too much. She could understand the logic behind the Worm and his council's decision; the Graug were numerous and had a ready made force to occupy the worlds, could act as a buffer against the Bryn'adul if they advanced this way, Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden was the first Sith to be anointed through their canonization ritual. And yet...

It was a major mistake in her opinion.

The Graug Overlord was a creature with his own goals and they were not necessarily the same as those of the Sith. His only concern was seeing his species spread across the galaxy, to conquer everything in a tide of blood, flames, death, and destruction. Voss was too important a world to suffer such a fate as what the Graug would bring to it. The destruction and loss of culture and power... that was intolerable to a Sith like her, just as the needless attack on Csilla had been. The Graug were not technologically advanced nor did they care about things like economic infrastructure or structures the Sith Eternal badly needed to build up their forces. But even they were not unstoppable, something that the Voss had been showing and she would demonstrate today as well.

The siege of Voss had been ongoing for months, with little to show for it but a beautiful planet scarred by orbital attacks. The Voss themselves were in the mountains, their city of Voss-Ka inapproachable except from one way. Their Mystics were masters of predicting the future, making it impossible to surprise them if one was not versed in the ways of the Force enough to hide from their scrying. Brute force would not bring them low, as the siege had shown, but there were other ways to bring the world into the fold.

Still, she had brought along a sizable force herself in case it did come to conflict between her and Vulcanus. Her challenge was clear after all. Sweeping away from the bridge, leaving it in the capable hands of Admiral Sentongo, she joined the ground forces and creatures she had brought along. Cloned soldiers from Spaarti Creations, several legions worth of Subsumed Ghouls, a cadre of Tzihra Satwas, and a menagerie of Sithspawn from Valrar were all deployed to the surface in dropships escorted by the latest Aurora fighter craft. They would be deployed in good measure and order to march to the mountains.

When the Lady of Secrets emerged from her transport, eyes shifted from purple to yellow, she was not alone. Beneath her, her personal Cirmuhai screeched and took flight along with a few others of its kind enslaved to her will that carried the Virmse ra Dvasia that served her. Darth Arcanix let her presence in the Force be felt. It gave no doubts of her intentions.

Darth Arcanix had come for this world, and if Vulcanus could not get the job done his way, she would get it done hers. He could either be one more obstacle or step aside.

Valrar Sithspawn


Aspect of Passion Aspect of Passion
 
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Late. Late. Late.
Arcturus was decidedly late.
He had spent the better part of the afternoon planet-side, gaining a crash course in droid repair from Hilarion before he'd realized the time. Were it up to Arcturus he'd find a way to tend to both, he wasn't the biggest fan of droids in general, there was something a little impersonal about them, but that didn't mean he hadn't the urge to learn more. Ultimately though his true calling this day was skybound, not earthbound. He'd taken his spherecraft and had docked it aboard the ship in question.
Now he hurried through the halls, a fresh set of clothes to replace those which had been besmirched with grease and oil. His hands still held slight remnants of his toilings that day, but he'd be sure to clean them properly before they got started.
Into the small lab he strode, eyeing up the ones already gathered there. First glancing over the Chadra-Fan, then the human male, and finally Ishani. He gave her a small, almost sheepish smile, and stepped over to a deep sink to wash the remnants of oil from his hands.
"My apologies for being late," he began, as he dried off his hands and approached the trio, "I got caught up, planetside. But I'm here now. What did I miss?"
It took him a moment longer to realize that everything was just within its preparation stage, and nothing had begun.
Whoops...
 
Ishani had turned around, aiming to leave the room just to get away from the two alchemists’ bickering, but no sooner had she faced the door, it slid open and Arcturus stepped inside. Her face lit up at the sight of him. She raised her arms to hug him, touch him, something, but held back when she saw how dirty his hands were.

“At last, he graces us with his presence,” Silas uttered in a dramatic tone as Arcturus moved to the sink.

Khayyam shushed him. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, Mister… Acolyte… sir? Eh, whatever.” He tottered over to Arcturus and shook his just-washed hand—or rather, his fingers, given that his claw was much smaller than Arc’s. “My name is Khayyam. Don’t get intimidated, I’m only here to supervise. I’m likely more familiar than you with all this technology and ritual stuff, but you are the one calling the shots. Whatever you want to do, we'll help you do it.”

“He is but an instrument of your conquest,” Silas remarked.

“And this is Silas Fogg. Mr. Fogg is here to complain and make stupid commentary.”

“I consider myself more of a check on your investment,” Silas replied with a shrug. “You see, Khayyam’s so terribly old, especially for a member of his species, that sometimes his bat-brain gets a little foggy and he forgets things. It’s my job to make sure he doesn’t forget anything important and risk ruining everything for everybody.”

Khayyam glared at him. Ishani, sensing another argument coming, quickly cut in. “You’re not really late, Arc. Come on.

She guided him over to a chair, though she hardly forced him to sit down. Her main concern was that he would become overwhelmed with the power and expectations and decisions that had been rather unceremoniously dumped into his lap when they agreed to try and take Folende. Not to mention the high likelihood that they would face competition in their attempt to conquer the planet...

 
Objective I: The Siege

Voss. It used to be a beautiful planet that was teeming with forests, rivers, and mountains. Now? Ana stood atop a heap of rubble, a tree had been upended beside her. The world had been ravaged by wars and orbital bombings. The beauty still existed in places, but it was hard to spot. She’d read codices describing the once entrancing world and now all that was left was a hollow shell. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes and drank in the energy of the life that still existed. She imagined the world as it once was. A peaceful haven amidst a chaotic galaxy. For a second, she could hear the sound of a stream trickling and a Wingmaw flying overhead. Horranths hissed at each other as their footsteps wandered along the stream’s edge.

A transport ship flew close overhead and Ana was quickly snapped out of her meditative trance. That was no matter as she didn’t have to waste dreaming anyways. A critical mission lay ahead. Voss was to play an important role if the Sith Eternal was to be successful in their aims. The rubble existed as a sign of the conflict that had been raging on for months, but today that conflict would end (hopefully). The Eternal had redoubled their efforts to take the planet, determined to put an end to the stand still that had raged on for weeks. While numerous governments had vyed for Voss, they would claim it as theirs and theirs alone.

The mountain of Voss-Ka loomed large. For the Sith to be successful, that city had to be overrun and it’s unique and tricky terrain shielded it from a large-scale ground invasion or aerial bombardment. This meant it would come down to a large amount of patrols to root out the enemy within. Ana would be traveling with the patrols in an attempt to eliminate the resistance hiding in bunkers throughout the mountain. It was her first combat mission, which made the situation precarious. She’d opted for a very light armor suit hidden underneath her clothing and carried limited weaponry--all standard issue equipment. She honestly wasn’t sure what to expect, but was eager for the opportunity to prove herself. She readied herself as the patrols prepared to head out.
 

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V O S S

"Very good, I await your arrival."
Carnifex disconnected the communication's connection shortly after, pocketing his holoprojector before turning and leaving the house altogether. Fresh blood stained the marble patio outside, the bodies of the hired gardeners strewn about where they had fallen. Standing close to them were other servants of the house, those who were closest to the house's head and were indoctrinated into this grand scheme. Such secrecy had become vital in recent days, it was truly impossible to know whether a hired hand could be trusted when the allure of coin was so strong a motivator, and everyone had a deep coin purse.
The gate leading up to the estate was thrown open, a convoy of wide speeders pulling up into the semi-circle drive before parking all in a long row. Inside were members of the Voss Defense Guard, the civil authority, and even members of the former Silver Jedi occupational division. Long ago they had pledged themselves to the Dark Side, bound their fates to that of Carnifex, and laid in hiding for years awaiting the moment when the day would arrive that they could cast off their chains.
They knelt in quick succession before Carnifex as he emerged, their heads bent down towards the ground in submission.
"Rise," and so they did, "We must move quickly, the destiny of this world hangs in the balance. Is everything ready for the ascension?"
One stepped forward, a veteran member of the Defense Guard who had once served the Silver Jedi, even going as far as to resist the Sith when they first invaded and occupied Voss. His mind had changed, however, once he had been exposed to the glory of the Dark Side, such minds were eager to embrace the dark truth.
"Everything is in place, Great One. The death squads await the signal, those you have marked for termination have been subtly corraled into the killing zones. It will not take long to rid ourselves of their filth."
Carnifex waved his hand, a signal to begin. The Voss commando pressed a button on his wrist-com, sending out an encrypted communication that would be picked up by the dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers who had joined him in this bold treason. Those soldiers stopped for a moment, taking the time to listen to the brief message that simultaneously played over their comms. Then, almost robotically, with a face devoid of emotion, they turned their weapons on those they had been fighting alongside for years.
It happened everywhere, but the greatest concentration of this betrayal occurred in Voss-Ka.
Carnifex pulled himself up into one of the speeders, one that had been reinforced to his exact specifications. The others piled into the other vehicles. He waved his hand in the air and bellowed out a single command, "Quickly now, to Voss-Ka!"

 
Ignoring Silas, Arcturus turned and extended a hand to greet the one who would be bringing their vision to life. "Arcturus," he responded, it wasn't as though he had some fancy title to give out in place of his name, and something told him that being friendly and familiar with this duo might help guide things along. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you both."
As the two began to bicker, Arc found himself led over to a chair by Ishani. He sat, then pulled out the datapad the pair had been working on their plans on. He stared down at it for a moment, a faraway look in his eye, before exhaling. Then he looked to Ish and smiled. Again, rather sheepishly. This whole experience was a little jarring.
"Have you heard from any of the refugees?" he asked her, in a quiet voice, "The ships should be arriving soon, no?" Individuals from Chandaar, and other worlds where beings were displaced. Some weren't really refugees, just men and women hoping for a better, cleaner existence here on Folende, but a majority certainly were. They had arranged for their arrival, so they could start setting up, helping with the machines, and the tremendous amounts of work that needed to be done planetside.
Mostly though Arc was wanting to detract from some of the other matters on their minds. Like how crazy this whole thing was.
When the pair were done bickering, he loaded up the datapad and extended it toward Khayyam.​
"Here are our plans so far. We have a lot of the ideas written out, but please feel free to poke holes in it. I want this project to be successful, if we've been ignorant then be sure to let us know." This wasn't his forte, he was more an artificer than a bio-engineer... Not that he wasn't eager to learn, of course, he hoped this venture would be fruitful in his own future where Sithspawn were concerned...​
 
Khayyam took the datapad and gave it a good look. Likewise, Silas slid out of his chair and crossed the room to peer over the Chandra-Fan’s head, taking hold of the master’s pink bat ears and parting them so he could see.

While the two studied the screen, Ishani stood by Arc. She lay a hand on his arm, gradually moving it toward his hand until her fingers entwined with his.

Yes,” she replied. “There are a lot more ships than I thought there would be…” She named a number that, while not quite staggering, was more than enough to get the agriworld going again. “And they’re supposed to be packed to the brim, past capacity. I knew there was supposed to be a refugee crisis, but it always seemed to be elsewhere, in other parts of the galaxy. I didn’t know it was this bad here.” Perhaps she sounded naïve for saying so, but it was true. She’d had no idea.

“Ah,” Silas was, as always, the first to comment as the alchemists reached the end of the document. “Mutated bats. Oh, how splendid.”

“Yeah,” Khayyam muttered. “Should I use myself as the template, do you think?”

“A bunch of mutant Khayyams running around? My word. Arcturus, would you like to irritate your enemies to death?”

“If it gets the job done, why not?” Khayyam retorted, swinging a fist for emphasis. “Anyway, what you’re asking for, young master Arcturus, is a vampire bat with venom capable of carrying a virus that can turn enemy combatants into brainless vampiric zombie-types with their bite, right? To do that, we’ll have to engineer the virus too…”

“Should we give them a specific craving as well, looking only to suck the blood of a certain species—the Graug, perhaps?” Silas asked coyly. “They do seem to be the primary challengers in all these Kaggaths.”

Khayyam turned to Silas, stared at him for a few moments, then cackled. His laughter was perhaps the least anthropomorphized thing about him; it sounded like the squeaking of a bat. “That would be a bloody riot.”

“‘Bloody’, you don’t say, ha!”

The duo had gone from bickering to howling with laughter. Aw, they really do love each other after all. Ishani smirked to herself and rolled her eyes.

“Right, ahem—there are some ways you could go about this,” Khayyam continued, speaking to Arcturus. “The traditional method was to simply take a creature and mutate it, often painfully and, honestly, with little likelihood of success. They tended to die in agony, leaving the alchemist with little more than a grotesque corpse behind. The more modern methods involve employing cloning methods and modifying the subjects’ DNA in an embryonic state—that’s what these tanks are for.” He gestured to an exowomb. “The methods employed by the late Darth Prospero, with great success, were to cross the DNA of two or more very different species, binding them together with the Force, and thus creating a whole new species. Of course, the main disadvantage of that was that they could be literally unmade by a Jedi shining their Light on them. Not to mention Prospero himself died from being stabbed in the back with Dark energies… basically, they are vulnerable to the Force. All Sithspawn are, really… and they’re vulnerable to its absence as well.”

As he spoke, Khayyam scurried around the room, pulling levers, pressing buttons, twisting dials. Silas went to a station and stayed there, monitoring all that the master was doing.

“How many species of bat do we have samples of, Mr. Fogg?”

“Dozens of them,” Silas replied. “Though many of them are too big. You don’t want their bite to maim the victim… that narrows it down considerably. Bloodbats should work… crossed with gackle bats, maybe? They have a more potent venom.”

“Just use the bloodbats for now—we don’t have time to wait for the computer to cobble together the DNA.” Khayyam waved his hand. “Punch it in.”

Silas did so. A sloshing sound came from the tank as it began to fill with a nameless fluid.

“Now—who wants to do an ancient Sith ritual to impose your unnatural will upon the natural order?” Khayyam asked, rubbing his claws together and looking rather pointedly at Arcturus and Ishani.

 
While the pair glanced over their plans, Ishani became the sole object of his attention. He gave her hand a light squeeze as their fingers entwined, and listened intently to what she had to say concerning the refugees. It was understandable for her to be concerned by the numbers, but he knew it wasn't entirely the fault of the Order they belonged to.
"We're right next to Bryn'adul space," he explained, softly, "Most of the dispersed are likely previous inhabitants of the Scar Worlds." Of course there were those from Chandaar, that couldn't be ignored, but maybe it would help ease her mind some to know they were actually doing more good with this one than they were bad. Giving men, women, children, a new start. A chance to actually thrive.
Hard work? Oh, most certainly. But it was honest work.
Before he could speak much more on the matter though, Silas piped up. Once more the pair of them devolved into random mutterings, a rather adorable back and forth in truth. He couldn't tell if they were the greatest of friends or if they despised one another. He settled on the former soon enough.
"That would be correct," he responded, as the questions were turned his way, "A source through which to spread a virus, of sorts... A, uh... disposable army." He did not look at Ishani as he said that final part, and honestly just saying it aloud left a slight knot in his stomach. Stealing the life and autonomy of an individual to become pawns on a battlefield? It seemed a little... wrong?
But he didn't exactly have much in the way of a choice right now. They needed numbers, they needed strength beyond what two Acolytes could feasibly present. One day they could be a little more scrupulous with their work, but not right now. They were already running out of time.
He turned his attention to Silas.
"I doubt Vulcanus would be too pleased about that..." he said, though there was a smirk upon his lips all the same. The idea of them feasting solely on those beasts was a pleasant one indeed, something about the Graug had never sat right with Arcturus. In fact he rather liked to avoid them as best he could. "Allowing them to seek out their sustenance on the battlefield would be useful, though." After all, how were they going to feed an army?
Yeah, traditional Vampire style would certainly be for the better.
Up next came what could only truly be regarded as a crashcourse in Sithspawn making. He followed the bat around the room as he flicked levers and pressed buttons, soaking in as much information as he could though it was very overwhelming. In the end he stopped focusing on what the Alchemist was doing and instead listened to what he was saying. With any luck Khayyam would teach him the more indepth process over time.
He nodded at the mention of their various weaknesses, a slight hum under his breath as he considered that. "I dabble in metallurgy, such weaknesses are not unfamiliar to myself, though I appreciate the heads up."
Watching the tank which began to fill with a fluid, Arcturus allowed himself to be enveloped by the process. It was magnificent really, they were creating life anew, twisting the natural order of things... He'd done so on a much smaller scale before but this...
This was something else.
And then the final question was asked.
"I'm ready," he said, hoping that Ishani would be too.
 
Ishani was a bit taken aback that anyone was looking at her right then. After all, this wasn’t really her moment, was it? It belonged to Arcturus, and to the two alchemists overseeing the project, and…

Arc was looking at her, doing that thing where he pinned her with his eyes. She met his gaze. Was he happy here, doing this? She looked deeper, past the feeling of being unmoored, cast out on an unfamiliar sea that threatened to drown them both, and tried to find a sense of… something. Belonging, perhaps? A joy that wasn’t poisoned by fretting over morality, all those complicated little details and considerations that had to be taken into account?

Yes. Yes, he was happy. And very excited, and impatient to hear her answer.

Oh, uh, I’m ready too,” she replied quickly, conscious of the awkward silence she had nearly caused with her delay. She smiled, a little flushed, hoping to break any web of tension before it could be spun. “Yes, let’s get started.

“Good,” Khayyam said. Reaching into his belt, he pulled out a small dagger, more of a knitting needle really, which fit his small hand perfectly. “Everyone got a knife?”

“Of course they have knives,” Silas murmured, smirking. “We all have knives. We’re Sith.”

Incidentally, Ishani did not have a knife of her own apart from her sword, which seemed rather unwieldy for the task ahead and would’ve required her to reach into a pocket dimension to retrieve it anyway. Khayyam directed the three of them to move closer to the tank, then used his blade to cut open the palm of his hand, closed his fist, and squeezed the blood out so that the drops trickled onto the floor in a circle, encompassing the exowomb, Arcturus, Ishani, Silas, and himself. Once the circle was closed, a humming wall of energy surrounded them, cutting off their ability to sense anything outside it. But everything within the circle was rendered all the more vibrant to one’s Force sense.

“Cut your hands as well,” Khayyam ordered. Ishani glanced at Arc, clearly hoping he’d let her use his dagger.

 
And so it was time to begin.
Together with the others he formed a circle around the exowomb, and watched as Khayyam used his dagger to draw blood from his palm to add to the ground, the beginnings of the ritual. Arcturus was, at this point, no real stranger to the workings of blood magic, though he knew it was a potentially deadly pursuit, dangerous at the very least. Still he'd been taking lessons from Celeste Demici Celeste Demici so he wasn't quite so off-put by it as most might have been.
He'd long since learned to deal with the sight of blood.
Removing his beloved dagger from his belt, he lightly cut along his palm. There was a scar there these days that never seemed to fully heal, it had appeared first after their visit to Chaldea, where he'd cut a little too deeply in the heat of the moment. Since then, with his recurring practices, it had never had time to rest.
Ishani seemed to be the only one of them who didn't have a blade. He cleaned off his dagger, replaced it to his belt, then handed her one of his other knives. It wasn't that he didn't trust her with his main dagger, more that he didn't want them to accidentally mix blood. Who knew what would happen. Nope, better safe than sorry. Luckily he had numerous throwing knives these days, they'd become his primary weapons.
He looked to Khayyam in the moments which followed for instruction, seemingly unphased by the blood dripping from his palm.
 
Arcturus proved Silas’ point by producing an extra knife for Ishani to use. Her palm stung as she ran the sharp edge across it, making her wince slightly. Silas did the same shortly after her, though he didn’t react to the pain.

“It’s all purely symbolic, you know,” he said, ignoring the blood trickling from his hand. “All rituals are. We do these things to satisfy the superstitious sensualist in ourselves, the animal part of our brain that needs every little thing to have some kind of meaning—”

“Now’s not the time for philosophical gobbledygook,” Khayyam interrupted. “Right, we’ve opened ourselves to the circle now. You should be able to dive into the Force as easily as if you were already deep in meditation...”

Ishani was definitely starting to feel it; a heaviness that weighed on her, dragging her down.

“But you do not want to lose yourself in it. Focus on what you want to accomplish, find the life in the tank—and impose your will on it. It cannot resist you. It’s all yours to mold as you wish.”

If anything did go wrong, Khayyam would presumably step in to fix it. That assurance comforted Ishani somewhat as she sank further into the empyrean.

 
As immersed as he was in the moment, in the back of his mind Arcturus was all too aware of the imminent arrival of colony ships to the world, and with it no doubt claimants to its rulership. Fellow Sith. No doubt stronger than they. How long would the process take? How long before the bats could be utilized? How long til an army could be amassed? And what would they do if they could not defend their claims fast enough?
A sinking feeling washed over him, as though he had been dunked into an ocean once more. There was so much resting on this.
He had to focus on the ritual.
Silas expressed disbelief in the necessity of the ritual at hand, but Arcturus couldn't afford to let further doubts enter his mind. He knew that the Force worked in mysterious ways, why not this? He'd seen other rituals directly work, after all, he'd engaged in them before. Still a little skepticism was healthy right?
Arcturus reached out, gave Ishani's hand a light squeeze, and then exhaled. He cleared his mind as much as he could, using the remaining doubt as a forge through which to expedite his focus. He churned that doubt, turning it first to frustration and then to a carefully held rage. This was their work, they had brought the world to the attention of their betters, and they would seize their claim.
And this was how it would be done.
With the darkside fueling him, he delved further into the Force and directed his attentions toward the being they were forming...
 
Khayyam had warned them not to lose themselves, but Ishani was sucked under at the first opportunity. She didn’t even realize it had happened until she felt Arc squeeze her hand—or rather, how far away and distant the sensation felt.

She clung fast to him. Using him as an anchor would have given her a chance to pull herself back from the brink, but it would also waste time and energy intended to help in the creation of the Sithspawn. She could sense his doubt, his fear that they would run out of time and fail. So instead of seeking safety, she channeled her energy into him as if he were but a conduit and she the battery.

The floodgates had opened. It was a very different cocktail of emotions that fueled her power, but they were no less destructive in nature. Obsession and unchecked passion—she was the hound chasing after prey at her master’s command, giving in to the senseless thrill of the hunt, the pursuit of something higher than herself. She gave more and more, and did evil by giving, and poured out all that she had mindlessly, with no thought to the repercussions…

“Stop,” Khayyam commanded. “Stop, Ishani! You keep this up and you’ll kill yourself, or you’ll kill him from the overload. Get up.”

Little claws struggled to lift her—she had at some point fallen forward so that she was sprawled on the floor, though her hand remained tightly clenched in Arcturus’. Another pair of hands, presumably Silas’, managed to haul her upright.

“You can’t just be an accessory to him, like an extra limb to do his bidding,” the master scolded. “Focus on it yourself, child. Do this for yourself.”

“I don’t think she’ll need to,” Silas said. “The thing’s alive already. I can feel it.”

“It’s alive?” Khayyam’s nose twitched, then he turned back to his machinery. “... It’s alive!”

 
Rather than sinking wholeheartedly into the Force and the Ritual surrounding them, Arcturus slowly submerged himself.
His meddling with Blood Magic had taught him rather quickly that there were times when moderation was key. One could not thrust themselves wantonly into dangerous, treacherous territories such as this. To lose oneself to the process meant losing oneself to the Force, to the whims of the universe, and it was hard to claw oneself back from such a vacuous edge. It was a pit, a hungry and unrelenting pit. It would swallow them whole if it could only trick them into giving up control.
Arcturus did not immediately realize what was happening with the girl at his side. His hand remained caught within hers, even when he believed it free and by his side, his focus was upon the creature in the tank and not the trio in the room with him. But slowly and surely her presence began to overwhelm him, until it was parasitic in nature. Though the parasite, he soon discovered, was himself, not her.
He began to resist her, moments before the ritual overseer spoke out against her actions. With a gasp he pulled himself free from the tide of the Ritual, intent on stopping her himself, only to find that the pair had managed to do so already. Fatigue struck him immediately, it was as though some of his own life had been sapped from him, at least momentarily, his energy was waning. But he didn't rightly care.
As Khayyam rejoiced, Arcturus sank forward to help Silas in lifting up a rather limp Ishani.
"Speak to me," he said, voice strained, "Look at me, Ishani..."
The brewing life that had air breathed into it could wait, it was monitored in a great many ways thanks to the machines. Ishani on the other hand was a more pressing concern to the boy.
 
Hi babe.

The softness of her voice was paired with a sheepish smile, trying to reassure him even as her body behaved like a wet noodle in his arms, drooping and limp. Exhaustion, being drained, all of that she could deal with, but not the stricken, frightened look on his face as he held her.

I think I’ll be okay. I really, probably shouldn’t have done that, but I was afraid we weren’t going to finish fast enough…

She was blaming her actions on impatience, but her lack of faith in her own abilities had a lot more to do with it than the time crunch. That and her willingness to be the instrument of Arcturus’ rise to power, rather than selfishly scrabbling for her own place at the top of the heap.

I think I’ll be okay,” she repeated.

Sloshing water could be heard elsewhere in the room as the tank was drained. Silas deliberately broke the ritual circle by smearing the blood on the floor with the toe of his boot. The walls dropped, and the pressure lifted.

“Let me see if I can get a feel for it,” Silas said, closing his eyes as he concentrated. “Is it linked to Arcturus still?”

“Uh, some sort of bond may have been created between them,” Khayyam suggested. “He did create this one… I had a bond with my first. Speaking of which, I need to take some samples here if we’re going to manufacture dozens on short notice…”

 
Objective I: The Siege

Ana was assigned to a small patrol of about a dozen that was heading for the southeastern side of the mountain. There were bunkers there that had been holding out for weeks. The plan was to send in an abundance of patrols and surround them, cutting off any connections to the city they had. Then they would squash them and the Voss would feel the true power of the Sith Eternal. This city had tried to remain neutral for far too long and they would come to regret it. The commander of the patrol was a human male--he looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. His attire was worn. It was easy to tell it wasn't his first battle.

He led them up the mountainous terrain. The trek wasn't easy in places. The incline was steep and the terrain was lined with rock and foliage. It made it clear why the city had been so hard to invade. Any sort of cavalry would have struggled to traverse the steep terrain that was dotted with trees. The destruction on the mountain side was even more evident than down below. It was clear this area had suffered heavy bombardment yet they had persevered. The Voss were certainly capable enemies.

As they climbed, a voice sounded over the radio, "Scouts report heavy infighting in the city of Voss-Ka, if we move quickly we can take it easily." Infighting? It puzzled her. The city's stalwart defenses had been impenetrable for weeks. Why would they suddenly turn on each other? She barely had time to think as the commander ordered the patrol to push ahead. His pace briskened after he heard the news. He was clearly eager to move past the mountainside and into the city where the real fighting was taking place. She could feel it. Unlike the rest of the patrol, his energy conveyed no fear just excitement. He was eager for a fight.

The patrol reached a small clearing on the mountain side as the terrain leveled off for a brief moment. It gave way to a field that was surrounded by trees and fauna. One of the soldiers asked the commander to take a break. He was clearly spent from the tiring climb, but the captain brushed him off and ordered the group to push ahead. Ana hardly heard the conversation though, her mind had wandered elsewhere. She couldn't explain it, but something felt weird about this clearing. It had a weird energy about it. It was teeming with life...too much life.
 
With a chorus of screeches, the Cirmuhail bearing Taeli and her small retinue of Virmse ra Dvasia arrived over the fabled city of Voss-Ka, circling far overhead. A pall of terror would fall emanated from the winged beasts as they descended, striking fear into the hearts of those that might try and shoot at them as they landed... but Kaine had already begun his work in the capital city.

But the Lady of Secrets had never intended for the city to be put to the torch, to have Voss dragged out onto the streets or slaughtered. That was the way of Vulcanus, the ways that had failed to bring this world to heel. No, there was only one way to pacify the Voss. The Gormak were already engaging Graug across the planet, their war-like cultures sparring for control of the valleys and mountains of this world, and they would soon be joined by the forces of Darth Arcanix. When the Sith Empire took the planet, she had made a pact with some Gormak tribes to help them grow strong and they would in turn serve her. She was keeping her word by sending her own forces to push against the Graug warbands, keep them away from the Gormak strongholds.

The same could be said here as a cordon would slowly form around the city of her forces separating them from the blighted horde. Officially, she was assuming command of the siege and relieving the Graug of that assignment. Unofficially, her forces were just waiting for the command to fight Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden ' servants. It would come in time, depending on how he responded to her overt and covert challenges to his right to take this world.

Dismounting her steed, she was not dressed as a warrior in armor, just her robes and cloak as she walked towards Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex and his retinue of turncoats.

"Kaine, I see you already got a headstart," she said in greeting, nodding her head at the former Emperor and ruler of the Kainate. She turned to one of the Voss with him, asking, "Take us to see the Three."

Aspect of Passion Aspect of Passion
 

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