Laphisto
High Commander of the Lilaste Order
The Commando Program under the oversight of
Trace Xyston
had exceeded every expectation. What began as a focused initiative to hone elite strike teams had grown into something far more significant an emblem of unity and shared purpose. Its success was undeniable, so much so that expansion became the natural next step. On the counsel of
Diarch Rellik
, the program opened its doors wider, taking on not only Lilaste Order recruits but also carefully selected soldiers of the Diarchy who met the rigorous standards demanded of commandos.
This was no mere recruitment drive. It was an experiment, one aimed at dissolving the invisible line that still separated the Lilaste Order from the everyday ranks of Diarchy personnel. For all their discipline and effectiveness, the Order bore a distinct identity an aura, a way of carrying themselves that set them apart. Their culture, their philosophy, and their code of conduct gave them an air of otherness that, while respected, also reinforced their separation from the Diarchy's regular military.
The inclusion of Diarchy soldiers in this next wave of commandos was designed to change that. These new operatives would serve as the first generation to straddle both traditions, trained in the unique balance of the Lilaste Order while still bearing the stamp of the Diarchy's martial heritage. They would become proof of concept—embodiments of integration rather than mere collaboration. This was, in many ways, a trial. But it was also a deliberate step forward: a vision of a future where the Diarchy and the Lilaste Order stood not as allies of circumstance, but as a single, interwoven strength. The commandos would be the crucible, and their success would set the tone for what was to come.
To most, Kiev'ara was nothing more than another exploited rock a barren mining world bled dry for its veins of crystal and ore. Its lifeless surface and unforgiving climate offered little reason to suspect otherwise. Ships came and went, drills carved deeper into its crust, and in the ledgers of galactic industry, Kiev'ara was a simple entry: a dead world made profitable. But beneath that façade lay a truth known only to a chosen few the Diarchs, Laphisto, and a handful of trusted figures within high command. For them, Kiev'ara was no ordinary planet. It was the staging ground for something far greater, a secret born not of resource hunger but of pure ambition.
Hidden within the Rift of the Abyss, where the oppressive weight of the void crushed even the faintest echo of the Force, a facility had been constructed in silence. Here, in the deepest wound of the planet, the air was thick with a suffocating stillness, an emptiness that cloaked all presence. It was the perfect veil, an environment where no Jedi or Sith could pry, no seer could glimpse. In that hollow silence, the facility thrived unseen untouched by spies, prophets, or even the Force itself.
The first wave of recruits had scarcely been given a few hours to settle before the summons came. Lined up with precision, they were marched in silence deeper into the hidden facility, their escorts none other than the grim veterans of the first Commando batch. Their destination was a vast chamber carved into the bedrock, its ceiling lost in shadow, its walls humming faintly with the oppressive silence of the void.
At the heart of the room stood a sight both imposing and surreal. A great alcove jutted toward the chamber's center, its end suspended just above the raw stone surface of Kiev'ara itself. Upon it stood a figure unlike any other a towering, dragon-like Figure who wore Lialste armor some would know him as the High commander himself . His feet never touched the exposed planet's surface, a deliberate separation that carried a weight few could yet understand.
Around the chamber's edges, Lilaste Order personnel stood watch. Many bore the distinctive hilts of lightsabers at their hips, their silent presence a reminder of power and judgment. One by one, recruits were directed forward, compelled to descend the steps that brought them closer to the planet's naked surface. The moment each set foot upon the stone, the reaction was immediate. Breath caught in their throats. Hands clawed at temples or pressed to chests. Some staggered, some fell to their knees, overcome by a pressure they could not name, as though an unseen hand had wrenched something vital from within them.
Those who collapsed outright were swiftly seized by the commandos and hauled away escorted, dragged, removed without ceremony. But those who endured, who forced themselves across the bare ground toward the figure in the center, met a fate far more profound. Those who managed to endure the walk were brought face to face with the figure at the chamber's center. Towering, draconic, and immovable, he extended one clawed hand and pressed it firmly upon each recruit's head. The effect was immediate and agonizing.
Screams tore through the chamber, echoing against the stone. Recruits clawed at his wrist in desperation, their bodies convulsing under the unseen pressure. The Force-sensitives stationed around the edges did not intervene. Instead, they observed in silence, eyes sharp and hands scribbling notes onto datapads, their attention clinical, detached.
Then came the final horror. From the recruit's mouth and eyes seeped wisps of smoke thin at first, then streaming in greater torrents, twisting together in shades of ashen grey, pale blue, or deep crimson red. Each hue reflected something unseen yet intimately known: the soul's tether to the Force, torn free at its root. When the last thread unraveled, the body crumpled to the ground empty, severed. The dragon-like figure inhaled, and the smoke drifted inexorably into him, absorbed into himseld.
Around them, silence lingered heavy. Those who survived the walk, who made it to this point, did not emerge unchanged. They were hollowed, stripped of something eternal, and reshaped into something else entirely. and the pain the person felt while first steping onto the planets surface was gone. annd they were escorted away, annd the process continnued. onnne by one
Callista Sharde
Trace Xyston
had exceeded every expectation. What began as a focused initiative to hone elite strike teams had grown into something far more significant an emblem of unity and shared purpose. Its success was undeniable, so much so that expansion became the natural next step. On the counsel of
Diarch Rellik
, the program opened its doors wider, taking on not only Lilaste Order recruits but also carefully selected soldiers of the Diarchy who met the rigorous standards demanded of commandos.This was no mere recruitment drive. It was an experiment, one aimed at dissolving the invisible line that still separated the Lilaste Order from the everyday ranks of Diarchy personnel. For all their discipline and effectiveness, the Order bore a distinct identity an aura, a way of carrying themselves that set them apart. Their culture, their philosophy, and their code of conduct gave them an air of otherness that, while respected, also reinforced their separation from the Diarchy's regular military.
The inclusion of Diarchy soldiers in this next wave of commandos was designed to change that. These new operatives would serve as the first generation to straddle both traditions, trained in the unique balance of the Lilaste Order while still bearing the stamp of the Diarchy's martial heritage. They would become proof of concept—embodiments of integration rather than mere collaboration. This was, in many ways, a trial. But it was also a deliberate step forward: a vision of a future where the Diarchy and the Lilaste Order stood not as allies of circumstance, but as a single, interwoven strength. The commandos would be the crucible, and their success would set the tone for what was to come.
To most, Kiev'ara was nothing more than another exploited rock a barren mining world bled dry for its veins of crystal and ore. Its lifeless surface and unforgiving climate offered little reason to suspect otherwise. Ships came and went, drills carved deeper into its crust, and in the ledgers of galactic industry, Kiev'ara was a simple entry: a dead world made profitable. But beneath that façade lay a truth known only to a chosen few the Diarchs, Laphisto, and a handful of trusted figures within high command. For them, Kiev'ara was no ordinary planet. It was the staging ground for something far greater, a secret born not of resource hunger but of pure ambition.
Hidden within the Rift of the Abyss, where the oppressive weight of the void crushed even the faintest echo of the Force, a facility had been constructed in silence. Here, in the deepest wound of the planet, the air was thick with a suffocating stillness, an emptiness that cloaked all presence. It was the perfect veil, an environment where no Jedi or Sith could pry, no seer could glimpse. In that hollow silence, the facility thrived unseen untouched by spies, prophets, or even the Force itself.
The first wave of recruits had scarcely been given a few hours to settle before the summons came. Lined up with precision, they were marched in silence deeper into the hidden facility, their escorts none other than the grim veterans of the first Commando batch. Their destination was a vast chamber carved into the bedrock, its ceiling lost in shadow, its walls humming faintly with the oppressive silence of the void.
At the heart of the room stood a sight both imposing and surreal. A great alcove jutted toward the chamber's center, its end suspended just above the raw stone surface of Kiev'ara itself. Upon it stood a figure unlike any other a towering, dragon-like Figure who wore Lialste armor some would know him as the High commander himself . His feet never touched the exposed planet's surface, a deliberate separation that carried a weight few could yet understand.
Around the chamber's edges, Lilaste Order personnel stood watch. Many bore the distinctive hilts of lightsabers at their hips, their silent presence a reminder of power and judgment. One by one, recruits were directed forward, compelled to descend the steps that brought them closer to the planet's naked surface. The moment each set foot upon the stone, the reaction was immediate. Breath caught in their throats. Hands clawed at temples or pressed to chests. Some staggered, some fell to their knees, overcome by a pressure they could not name, as though an unseen hand had wrenched something vital from within them.
Those who collapsed outright were swiftly seized by the commandos and hauled away escorted, dragged, removed without ceremony. But those who endured, who forced themselves across the bare ground toward the figure in the center, met a fate far more profound. Those who managed to endure the walk were brought face to face with the figure at the chamber's center. Towering, draconic, and immovable, he extended one clawed hand and pressed it firmly upon each recruit's head. The effect was immediate and agonizing.
Screams tore through the chamber, echoing against the stone. Recruits clawed at his wrist in desperation, their bodies convulsing under the unseen pressure. The Force-sensitives stationed around the edges did not intervene. Instead, they observed in silence, eyes sharp and hands scribbling notes onto datapads, their attention clinical, detached.
Then came the final horror. From the recruit's mouth and eyes seeped wisps of smoke thin at first, then streaming in greater torrents, twisting together in shades of ashen grey, pale blue, or deep crimson red. Each hue reflected something unseen yet intimately known: the soul's tether to the Force, torn free at its root. When the last thread unraveled, the body crumpled to the ground empty, severed. The dragon-like figure inhaled, and the smoke drifted inexorably into him, absorbed into himseld.
Around them, silence lingered heavy. Those who survived the walk, who made it to this point, did not emerge unchanged. They were hollowed, stripped of something eternal, and reshaped into something else entirely. and the pain the person felt while first steping onto the planets surface was gone. annd they were escorted away, annd the process continnued. onnne by one
Callista Sharde
