Dominion The Tira Conspiracy | TSC Dominion of Tira

[Kirie]

THE TIRA CONSPIRACY | TSC DOMINION OF TIRA
Sign-Ups & OOC

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Here lies Xim’s most fearless lieutenant,
Felled by treachery.
Tira, we name this planet for you.
Ice Queen, cold lady of the void.
Rest easy in eternal night.​

Inscription - The Standing Stone​

Objective 1 - Something Unforgiveable
The Standing Stone cuts a stark silhouette across the blanket of stars, and the shimmering curtains of aurorae. It thrums with energy, pulsating like the heartbeat of Tira herself. Strands of fog swirl about the warm stone, half-obscuring the gathering of black-robed figures that have assembled.

Most are swaddled in cloth, their faces hidden behind deep hoods and bulky rebreathers. The air is warmer around the stone, but it is still cold and dreary enough to make some of them shiver. Most of these Sith are young, inexperienced, or unwelcome. Many of them know each other, but many have also come trying to preserve their anonymity, at least at the start. At least until it was known who could be trusted.

If the legend of Tira held any truth, then the standing stone was an object of incredible potential and power. That made every single person present dangerous, especially while the mysteries of the Force Nexus remain largely unknown.

Tentatively, one of the robed figures approaches the stone and lays a hand across it’s smooth surface. The instant of contact, a rumbling noise, sort of like a lowing animal, but a thousand times louder, resonates from the rock. The figure retreats, covering their ears, and several other members of the gathering step back, confused and cowed.

From the back of the group, a grating, warbly voice calls out.

“Ahem. Thank you all for coming.”

Kirie | Cassilde Vortayn | Anet Raine | Kaelyr | Goldmask

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Strictly no maiming, breaking bones, or drawing blood
Use of the Force is prohibited
You may duel your opponent to the floor, or until submission
Duelists may use only the weapons provided​

Rules - The Nwit-Kagha​

Objective 2 - Something Distracting

Inside the belly of the Tyrant, a pair of blunted swords clash with a brilliant shower of sparks. The sound echoes across the training hall, blending into the din of a dozen fights playing out at once. The duelists are silhouetted by flames, the great fireplaces of the training hall stoked high enough to make the space bright and sweltering.

At the edge of a red paint line indicating the borders of the ring, a gaggle of onlookers watch, cheering and jeering, as the two opponents face off. Amongst the throng, the pair’s Masters look on with intensity, playing out a years-long rivalry through the competition between their apprentices.

“Go for the guts!” one of the roars. “Take him down.”

“No!” Comes the answering call of the other Lord.

With a sweep of the leg, and the heavy smack of steel into flesh, the lesser apprentice falls, and a blade is pressed to their throat. The match is over.

“Called, to the champion of Darth Zamina.” intones a slender woman with runic symbols etched into her close-cropped hair, looking down at the fighters like they are naught but mildly interesting insects.

“Next fighter, step forward.”

Lily Rhodes | Naamino Zuukamano | Varin Mortifer | Sumire Raiza | @Ryl | Arris Windrun | Mercy

-

Temperature: -59 units
Wind: 31.5 at 079
Cloud: Two-Eighths
Gravity: 0.8 Standard
Hazards: Atmospheric microcrystals​

Surface Condition Report - Tira Staging Grounds​

Objective 3 - Something Different

“Here’s your boots, your rebreathers, your thermals, and your overjacket.” says the tired-sounding officer in the equipment room.

The room is actually a rectangular crate that had been dropped by a transport shuttle a few hours earlier. It was small, as far as ready-rooms go, and packed to the brim with equipment needed to mount independent expeditions across Tira’s surface.

A gaggle of scientists and Sith move amongst the stacks of gear, picking out the most choice items and bringing them back to their crew. One one side of the wall is a ticking countdown display, showing the time left before the next heavy-duty speeder will arrive to take the groups to the nearest caves perhaps 15 minutes ride away.

On the other side of that journey, Tira’s cave systems stretch down into the planet’s darkest depths, down to the border of the Ocean of Night. Nearest those dark waters, at the very bottom of the most winding caves, multicoloured kyber crystals burst from the roof, spring from rich mineral veins, and intermingle with the dozens and dozens of unique mineral formations within.

Amongst the glowing crystals, near sightless invertebrates slither all about, taking shelter in the relatively temperate climate of the caves. Most are harmless, but all are creepy, and fast, and numerous.

The officer takes the opportunity for a smoke break while the group finishes their preparations, letting out a long puff of smoke that forms a plume in the frosty air.

“Have fun.”

Veyla Tass | Calyx Sundrift | Madrona A’Mia | Pax Velloran | Helix


Misc tags: Rorie | Leontis Antalis | Lysander von Ascania | Darth Strosius | Nilira Vornix | Shinma | Tobias Dib |

 

[Kirie]

​

Objective 1 - Something Unforgivable
The Standing Stone
Anet Raine | Open

-

Like the others, Kirie’s face was hidden. She peered out from the folds of her hood, trying to identify the others gathering around her. It was no use. There was only one person she knew for sure. Kirie could have probably recognised her from the way she walked, but she didn’t need to. Her and Anet had come together, and they walked to the Standing Stone side-by-side.

Her boots crunched flat the crystals and ice that lay across the ground. Kirie’s eyes strained through the dark, skin crawling with the unshakeable feeling that something awful was about to happen, maybe something violent, or at least something that was a bad, bad idea.

Kirie felt a spike of nerves, the sudden urge to run from the gathering before it even started. That wouldn’t do. She shot a glance at Anet, then at the floor. Her hand clenched, then released, and with it, the anxious energy flowed out of her, and left Kirie cold and calm.

“Ahem. Thank you for coming.”

Her voice was strange and meek, and nobody, not even those who had known her before she was first silenced, would recognise it. It was a strangled imitation, but it was hers.

“We are here to examine and discuss the Standing Stone.” Kirie said seriously, her face still hidden. “And its potential as a weapon.” The words hung in the night air for a few moments, she went one. “To begin - Is anyone here proficient with using the Force to drain life?”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber | Wyrmfang​

Varin watched the altercation. The force suppression bracers on his forearms developed an itch across the surface of his flesh. A mild suppression that cut him off from the more intense calls of the inferno. It didn’t mean he was forceless. But he was limited. What bit remained he could easily control and refrain from using.

The runic brands carved into his flesh flared a burning orange as the fight came to a sudden end.

He felt another itch. One that he had buried deep down for some time. A bloodlust and an urge to fight.

His lower body was armored and his weapons left behind. It was just him, his strength.
At the behest for a new fighter to step forward, Varin did not hesitate. His form towering over most of the individuals who too came to fight.

His chest beat with a rhythm that thudded throughout his entire being. A feeling that his Mother called The Drums of War. His fingers interlocked in front of him as he slowly drew them forward. A loud crack resounding from his knuckles.

He stepped up, wordless, yet his gaze locked and focused. Ready for the first to step in and oppose him.

Sylor​

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Lily Rhodes​

Serving out his temporary exile from the Order hadn't been all bad thus far. Naamino was spending an inordinate amount of time keeping his mind occupied with the next mission, steadily chasing physical exhaustion through training, and doing all that he could to shove down, to ignore the pain as vivid as possible. By stoppering his rage, damming up the ocean of obliterating heartbreak and blinding betrayal, he made himself that much more powerful in the Force.

Today would be another test of control for him. A way to better hone that killing edge whilst holding it just in reserve.

The zabrak had left all normal vestiges of war in his small quarters upon the Tyranny. He'd arrived in naught but combat boots, well fitted fatigues and a plain undershirt. His only personalized adornment were the moon blue wraps about his huge fists. Their color matched his horns.

“Next fighter, step forward.”

Tall, broad as a star freighter, and covered in corded hard-earned muscle, Naami stepped forward. His ice blue eyes scanned room around him, wondering with cool detachment who'd step up.

 

[Sylor]

Varin Mortifer​

Sylor had arrived aboard the Tyrant as an unofficial envoy of the Mandalorian Empire, hoping to strengthen relations with the warriors of the Sith Covenant. It was a task he welcomed, knowing that mutual respect between warriors was often earned through actions rather than words. Today, it seemed, that respect would be tested with steel.

The Mandalorian made his way toward one of the smaller arenas, passing numerous fighters already engaged in their bouts. His gaze eventually settled upon Varin, looking the man up and down with a curious expression. He certainly looked menacing, but Sylor was hardly deterred. He had faced plenty throughout his life, and even fire itself would not keep him from standing his ground.

For this occasion, he had forgone his mandalorian armor, and wore just a simple tunic. If he was wounded, that would serve as a reminder of what he needed to fix. Stepping into the ring, Sylor offered Varin a respectful nod before raising his weapon in a brief salute.

"Well then, shall we?" he remarked with a nod, settling into his stance.

 

[Astra Sadow]

SOMETHING UNFORGIVABLE​

While others covered their ears, a figured adorned in white robes spread her hands out to either side as if to welcome the 'noise.' Whether her eyes were closed or not would be left to the imagination even of those that peered beneath the cowl tipped back as the figure basked in that glorious moment. There were no eyes to spy. Not a nose, nor a mouth either. It was a face as black marbled with crimson as its figure when the robe parted about her length.

When the 'noise' ended with some backed away out of fear or confusion, the figure's hands slowly fell back to her side. Ah, what horrible sorrow to be left with a silent world. One broken by the voice of someone that sought to be meek; their words polite and studious.

No one would recognize Astra Sadow by sight alone. She was a woman of many inhuman faces -- as many as humans had clothing. Perhaps more. Not that she feared recognition, but because... well, there wasn't much reason, really. The robe was appropriate for the circumstance and that was about all the thought put into it. Mostly it was instinctive. Or, perhaps, guided by a whisper she wasn't aware of from Beyond.

When Kirie asked her question rather than prompt a death-hungry soul to make contact with the stone once more, Astra turned her cowl to the side. The other woman had appeared at the back of the crowd. "As breathing," she replied with a voice that didn't belong to any mammal. As spectral a voice as one might find, but very real.

Asking something like her if she knew how to drain the life out of a creature was like asking if they knew how to breathe. Were others as intimately familiar with the act? As steeped in depravity and horror? Astra hoped they'd speak up. It was nice to know when there were kindred souls about. They could speak on so many topics others would find... distasteful. They might also try to horde this delicious Stone and its secrets for themselves as well. The moment would be full of possibilities.

Kirie | Open​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Open
Veyla Tass Calyx Sundrift Madrona A’Mia Pax Velloran Helix Rorie Leontis Antalis Darth Strosius Nilira Vornix Shinma Tobias Dib​

The overjacket landed last, dropped atop the boots and rebreather with the offhand ease of someone who'd been issuing the same equipment for hours. Lysander caught the bundle against his chest just as one boot threatened escape.

His gaze skimmed the heap before lifting to the officer. The poor bastard looked exhausted. No sense adding to his troubles, so he offered a commiserating smile.

He found himself a patch of floor beside a rack and began sorting through his new possessions. The thermals went on first, followed by the boots. The overjacket was heavy enough to make him feel broader across the shoulders, and the warmth arrived almost immediately. The rebreather received a more careful inspection before his gaze eventually wandered to the countdown on the opposite wall.

Kyber crystals. He wondered what the ones beneath Tira might feel like. Ilum seemed a lifetime ago; far more than just his lightsaber's hue had changed since then.

This was a change from his usual assignments with the Covenant. There were no governors to placate, no negotiations to steer through. If fortune proved unusually generous, he might just make it to lunch without anyone wishing to put a vibrodagger through him. He couldn't quite decide how he felt about that either. Maybe he'd just forgotten what an ordinary expedition was supposed to feel like.

Finally, the rebreather was secured with a click. He rubbed his palms together once. Well. He'd come this far, might as well see what Tira was hiding. And from what he'd observed, there were at least a few familiar faces in the mix; not that he needed those small comforts, but he'd take them anyway.

 

[Nilira Vornix]

Tag: Kirie Astra Sadow
Outfit
​

It was rare for the Acolyte to actually involve herself in something that involved others. It was far too common to find her in her dorm or in the archives, but here she was. Others may have been attempting to conceal their identities, to remain anonymous, and she was amongst them, simply to blend in. Whilst she did partake in her own disguises and subterfuge, that was to aid her in her task, more often than not. There wasn't an entire need of it in this moment, yet she still found herself taking part.

As the voice spoke, Nilira simply raised her hand up into the air, palm facing outwards whilst her other arm remained folded behind her back. Ever so slightly more refined than her normal stance. Draining life through the Force was something she found exceptional ease with. It helped her to feel...alive to an extent, draining the life out of those with heightened emotions, tasting every emotion like a succulent dish. Though it never lasted long and the empty void would always come back.

For now however, she just stood there in silence, not adding her voice to anyone else that spoke. Instead she let her gaze flicker amongst the others, taking in as much as she could. Information was a resource, and whilst there wasn't much she could gleam from sight alone, it was better than to stand here like a gormless fool. She just awaited what the next steps would be, fighting the urge to let out a yawn.

 

[Anet Raine]

Kirie Cassilde Vortayn Kaelyr Goldmask
Robes | Mask | Lightsaber​

The Vilia Calimondra hung in low orbit, one of many ships that dotted the sky, dwarfed by the Tyranny.

But Anet Raine was already in descent, aboard a shuttle shared by one other - she looked at Kirie. There were no words. They had already arrived at an understanding. There was no going back.

Tira was their destiny now.

The shuttle landed, and they each stepped off. Anet bid Kirie onward and watched the woman disappear against the landscape while she stayed behind for a moment.

From her frigid vantage, Anet was overwhelmed by a thought: Tira was beautiful. Her boot pressed against the ice.

'I'm here...'

But she wasn't close at all.

Gloved fingers touched the rebreather she wore, crawling down until she felt the lump of her mask buried under the layers of her cloak and robes.

How cruel... and fitting for a Sith... In order to survive, she needed one mask. In order to live, she needed another. But Anet couldn't bear the thought of approaching the Standing Stone - her destiny - cut off from the Force. What was a tongue without taste?

Her fingers hesitated over her heart before grasping up with impatient ferocity. She ripped the rebreather and tossed it from the precipice. She inhaled sharply, feeling first the cold burning at the back of her throat, then the sting of microscopic ice cutting into her lungs. The half-pantoran coughed and wheezed, finding herself increasingly unable to inhale at all. Her fingers tingled, and her head grew fuzzy as well. The soft dancing lights in the upper atmosphere seemed whiter.

She frantically pulled off her cloak - subjecting herself to deadly cold - and dug into her black robes for the mask.

Weakness rapidly claimed her, as if Tira's gravity bore down on her alone.

As she fell to one knee, Anet managed to fasten the mask to her face. In an instant, she felt the Force restored.

Pain, fear... desperation flooded her. Accentuated and empowered by the Dark Side.

But that alone wasn't enough.

Animals suffocated all the time.

Bitterness was no cure.

But she felt it. Tira was alive. It lived in the hostile cold, detached from any star. Defiant.

And so Anet stood. Fueled without sense or reason. She just fucking did it.

She defied death in the cold, breathless black, and walked down the slope, following the faint impressions of Kirie's footwork towards the Standing Stone until she caught up and they arrived together. She sensed her companion's chaos, but said nothing.

“Ahem. Thank you for coming.”

Anet - a masked, robed figure - stepped out from the shadows behind Kirie as she addressed the small gathering, keeping herself to the woman's periphery as she scanned those who joined them.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Direct: Mercy
Mention: Varin Mortifer Lily Rhodes Naamino Zuukamano Sumire Raiza Shinma (forgive me if I missed you)​

Something interesting was happening inside the Tyranny for once... Other than diplomatic dealings, that is.

Arris Windrun and Mercy Star-Arm sat in their lofty vantage point as Sith fighters dueled in the Nwit-Kagha, ritualistic combat in the style of ancient Kaggaths, minus all the death and territorial reshuffling.

The Sith cyborg lazed in her seat, with her head propped against one hand.

Grey cybernetic eyes darted between the various fighters. Naturally, however, her attention settled most keenly on Lily - her apprentice - and the man she squared off against. Some Zabrak, whose name she didn't even know.

"Do you have an akk dog in this one?" She looked at Mercy.

Part of her wondered if the Titan would rant about how they should be tearing each other's throats out.

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Tags: Naamino Zuukamano Arris Windrun
Attire​

Lily couldn’t place her anger on any one thing. It was just there, resting beneath the surface waiting for a way out. She loosed some of it on Metellos, and it had helped a little but not enough. So when the chance came up to punch something else, she found herself stepping towards it.

The zabrak that stepped forward as the next fighter was at least a foot taller than her and built like a brick shithouse. Definitely not someone Lily wanted to go up against, certainly not who she’d pick for an opponent but when no one else stepped forward she exhaled a sigh.

“Fuck.” she muttered, shooting a glance Arris' way, like this was her fault.

She stepped into the ring, the black tunic left her arms free, wraps covered her hands and forearms and close fitted trousers hugged her legs, the bottoms tucked into soft boots. Her silver blonde hair was loosely tied into a braid at her back.

Soft brown eyes regarded the zabrak without fear, analysing him from the other side of the ring. He was big and strong. That much was obvious, but that didn’t always mean slow. So long as she could avoid getting grabbed, and maybe dodge the worst of his blows, she might have a chance of landing a few of her own.

In comparison, Lily was small and wiry. But she wasn’t weak, and she’d made a point of dosing herself before the fights begun, the soft buzz of stims hanging at the base of her skull. Her head tilted and the corner of her mouth pulled into a half smile.

“Hey big boy.” she winked.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

​

Tira
Temperature: -59 units
Wind: 31.5 at 079
Cloud: Two-Eighths
Gravity: 0.8 Standard
Hazards: Atmospheric microcrystals

Armor | Phrik Daggers & Dual Lightsabers | Satchel of Scientific Instruments
Tag: Calyx Sundrift​

Though A'Mia dutifully rendezvoused where they'd been bid to gear up, she had no need for the protections on offer. She assumed it would be seen as rude (or suspicious) if she struck out on her own and so she acquiesced to travel with the group — at least to start. Her load-out might in fact seem to be overkill, but A'Mia was wary of dead places and Tira was only half alive as far as the neti was concerned.

It was the frigid cold that irritated her, but the promising signatures of life beneath ice drew her in. Not to mention talk of crystals. She had no end of access to Kyber of course, thanks to her close ties to Korriban and Darth Caedes, but Kyber was one of those resources that could have incredible variation depending on where it was sourced. The Kyber caves of Korriban were vast, but who knew what wonders Tira's caves might harbor.

Lysander received a nod from her eerie blank helm, but otherwise the arboreal woman seemed content to keep to herself. She was the first in line for the next transport to the site they were to explore and the first off it. Her loping strides looked even more eerie and graceful in the slightly less than standard grav. Wraith Mantle billowing about her as if she were an underwater dancer.

 

[Helix]

Equipment: Shotcannon / Sensor-Shells / Sidearm

​

Helix thumbed one final shell into the tube of the large, boxy-looking weapon he carried. In an environment this corrosive, he needed something ultra-reliable. Aside from an exotic sidearm at his hip, the shotgun and its accompanying munitions were the only pieces of equipment he'd bothered bringing.

The colony-being didn't require much in the way of temperature regulation or oxygen to exist, and had forgone the standard protective attire. Indeed, he suspected that was one reason why he'd been picked for this mission above the other things that needed doing. His body was a supremely hardy one, functionally impervious to even the most nightmarish of environs. Should all else fail, he'd at least be in a condition to report it.

The other reason, though nobody had said as much, was that they were likely not alone down here. Helix had gotten his hands dirty quite a bit lately, and didn't seem averse to doing so again.

Of course, he'd not agreed to do so for free. The Dzara warlord never did anything out of the nonexistent goodness of his nonexistent heart. Fortunately, and whatever else one might accuse them of, the Core regime wasn't stingy.

He had some uses for kyber himself, and wouldn't be leaving without a modest sample.

To that end, twin bandoliers of survey-shells crisscrossed his chest. As they travelled, he would tag likely-looking spots for later, more detailed evaluation. More importantly, it would prevent them from getting lost. Environs like this were disorienting, to say the least.

Helix looked around at the rest. Half of them looked tired before the expedition had even gotten off the ground. Potentially inauspicious. He was leery of introducing scientists to an unknown and potentially dangerous environment. Still, if they were eaten by hostile wildlife, that might give him time to line up a shot.

A few others at least looked capable, and that was something. He'd just have to hope that the person or persons responsible weren't sending them to their collective doom.

 

[Mercy]

Direct: Arris Windrun
Mention: Varin Mortifer Lily Rhodes Naamino Zuukamano Sumire Raiza Shinma (forgive me if I missed you)​

"Not especially..." Mercy drawled as her keen eyes remained on the figures below, watching the ebb and flow of battle. It was not as thrilling as when blood actually flowed and the stakes were high.

But the Lord of the Covenant couldn't expect the same sort of sacrifice as she did from her Graspborn. Helix had seen personally what it meant to be a worshiper at the Throne. But these were not cultists. These were the next generation of Sith, who needed to be strong, blooded and ready to kill to seize their power.

It would be disappointing if they died here, amidst their peers, without having made their mark on the Galaxy yet.

She blew some smoke out and offered the cigarette back to Arris Windrun . "The Zabrak I know. I beat the shit out of him once upon a time. He took it like a champ though, very impressive for an acolyte."

A hum escaped her.

"Reminded me a bit of our Varin, bold and unyielding. You? Lily, I imagine?"

Her gaze went for the contestants she didn't really know.

Would they be a surprise in this round?

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Lily Rhodes
​

Naamino waited patiently, he watched as Varin's match up exchanged formalities with him. For a moment he wondered if he'd be denied this test of will and control because none felt fit to face him.

Then Lily stepped forward.

Naami rolled his shoulders, sternum popping faintly, tipping that great horned head side to side in a few final stretches. His eyes were calm, face impassive.

Until she winked.

A surge of cold, irrational anger zinged through him. How he hated the ease with which people employed false flirtation. Unbidden and unwelcome, his thoughts strayed momentarily to Haro Aven .

The only sign Naami gave of that inner turmoil was in the sudden chill of his gaze and a very slight grimace of that blocky jaw. Without further warning, the big man surged forward and for his size he was indeed very fast. At the last moment of his charge, Naami dropped low and swept his leg in a powerful kick — intending to knock her to the ground.