Faction [TSC] Terror in Tapani

[Mercy]

Onboard The Siegemother
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Tag: Lysander von Ascania | Naniti

The Togruta stayed silent but Mercy got the distinct impression she had been about to speak before deferring to Lysander. Eyes flicked from one to the other, they'd both get the distinct impression of being sized up, just for what purpose was unclear. Mercy had grown up with the Echani and so body language was not just a metaphor for Mercy.

She felt it in the stance between them. The way they leaned into each other, even for the slightest centimeter, the way their heads swiveled to catch when the other was speaking.

Was it love? Was it obsession? Was there a difference when it came to the Sith and their ilk?

"Well, I have come to accept your judgement, von Ascania." Mercy murmured warmly as her attention shifted back to the lad. "So if you value hers, then I suppose for the time being so will I." Then that smirk turned a bit wolvish. "But does she speak? Or is it her mere presence that brings you good fortune?"

Mercy snapped her fingers and across the view port a map was projected of the Tapani sector. She stepped to the side so they both can see it clearly.

"I did hear that Arris Windrun got herself a pet Jedi to try and mold into something useful." Acier Moonbound was someone she hadn't met yet, but by all accounts he was an impressive specimen. "We will have to see if he bends or breaks. Not everyone can shake the passive nature of the Jedi, some are destined to be weak and inspire weakness in those around them."

"So far we have encountered little issue. The Tapani have been caught unaware just as Arris predicted. But, come closer, Lysander and Naniti. And let's see how well the Togruta's judgement truly is. See here, girl, these are our battle lines." Her golden arm, eldritch and monstrous unwound into tendrils so that Mercy could easily gesture towards the various points on the holo projection.

"And here is the convoy we are waiting on. In that vast space between us, there are pirate ships under our current employ, who are harraying them towards us."

She glanced towards the young woman.

"What risks do you see? Or do you believe we have covered every possible option?"

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Objective One- Life Day
Tags: Valephor Crokell | Open​

There was logic to traveling light and without a group, it also helped that neither of them necessarily carried the hallmarks that immediately gave them away as undeniably Sith. It was to their benefit that they could pass through the initial courtyards of the estate as if they belonged. A'Mia carried herself with the air of one precisely where she was meant to be and affected the guise of a scholar with scribe in tow.

Inhabitants of the great house had some forewarning but not enough, confusion and misinformation meant the Covenant members were just as likely to be received as tentative allies as they were feared enemies, should they be spotted and recognized for what they were that is. For now though, the neti and langhesi blended in.

"Excellent, Valephor. Some of the minutiae is unnecessary here during field work, but your enthusiasm for the task at hand is acceptable. How far does that sense of yours travel? Certainly there must be a limit to what you can take in."

Upon reaching a more populated and therefore more heavily monitored area near the proper entrance of the place, she split from the main path and began to slink lower to the ground— moving with inhuman grace and a rather unusual gait which would be impossible for a biped. Doorways, even pathways became mere suggestions to her when they approached a section of wall she wished to scale. Her own uncanny senses assured her this was the surest route with the least resistance.

Aware of the student's limitations, she paused and released one of her sithspawn. Crooning to it as one would a favorite pet, A'Mia gave psychic instruction that it was to aid the boy. That done, she turned to skitter up to the second story of the building where a small balcony led into servant's quarters. The shambling vines embraced and carried Valephor whether he was ready or not, carefully depositing him on the balcony before following the neti indoors.

She was just lowering a second body gently to the floor, two servants who'd been dispatched cleanly, each with a phrik blade to the throat. A'Mia's robes drank the resulting blood like leaves do sunlight or roots do water, but her serene face was artfully splattered with crimson as she turned to regard the young man.

"We are to leave none alive," she reminded him calmly.

"But I seek to leave most carnage to the others. I am curious about the non sentients you mentioned. Guard beasts perhaps? Also, if any of the children are near— we handle them first."

A’Mia straightened her posture, corpses on either side, and delicately wiped her face clean with a sleeve of her robes.

"Questions or statements before we continue?"

 

[Vexorion]

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[]

Torture Me - Davey Suicide​

Objective: 1 - Life Day
Tag: Open


The Guard House lived in a false sense of order, its illumination pooling like weak suns across polished stone and wavering banners. Vexorion slipped inside as a wrinkle in reality rather than a man, his presence dimming the air, his breath unheard. The six guards barely had time to register the wrongness; an itch behind the eyes, a pressure in the skull before the silence thickened and claims were made. His blade whispered once, twice, and then no more; the room became a museum of interrupted lives, each body folded into stillness by intent rather than chance. He lingered only long enough to savor the echo of fear that clung to the walls, then moved on, unhurried, satisfied.

The connecting hallways bent inward like the throat of a vast creature, doors and arches leaning toward him as if listening. He walked them with a pilgrim's patience, boots never quite touching the floor as he passed. He traced the hidden seams with a gloved hand, memorizing the pulse of the place; the way servants' routes bled into noble corridors, the way secrets preferred the dark. By the time he reached her chambers, the House had already begun to forget its dead guards.

She was waiting, lamp turned low, silk robe careless in its defiance of propriety. "You're late," she said, smiling like a promise.

"Late is a mercy," Vexorion replied, his voice a frigid blade. "I like to arrive when expectation has softened."

She laughed softly and stepped closer, unafraid. "You always say such things. Did the guards give you trouble?"
"They gave me satisfaction," he said. "Which is all they were ever worth."

Her fingers brushed his wrist as she pressed the passkey into his palm. "This will take you where the House doesn't look," she murmured. "Hidden corridors. Old ones. Remember our deal, Vex? You promised to take me with you if I aided you."

"Excellent," he said, savoring the word. "And I shall keep my word. I will rescue you from this Hell."

He did not hurry. The lamp guttered once as he leaned in, close enough for her to feel the chill he carried. "You've been very helpful," he told her, almost kindly. Her smile faltered, understanding arriving too late to matter. When he left the chamber, the lamp went dark behind him, and the House gained another secret it would never confess. Vexorion vanished into the hidden corridor, passkey warm in his grasp, carrying with him the quiet arithmetic of betrayal completed.

 

[Rixa]

The first Sith ships cut into realspace like knives through silk.

She watched the convoy, watched the shift in the convoy’s movement as panic rippled through formation. Escorts peeled off. Signals flared. The neat lines broke into something messier.

Voro swore under his breath. "They’re spooking them. Convoy’s trying to scatter."

"Good," Rixa said. "Give me full power! Charge the disruotor cannon."

She had that look on her face that came before a fight. The raw anticipation. Rixa had never been the best pilot, she was a better with a blaster and a sword.

Still, she wouldn't let anyone pilot her ship.

Sial diverted power from rear shields for a few moments and gave the disruotor fill power.

Rixa laughed as she cut a line straight towards the heart of the convoy. Two starfighter angled to meet them.

The Wayward Star lurched, then spat fire. Bright lances stitched across the void, tearing through the shields of the first starfighter. In needed a moment to recharge, so Rixa dropped below it's line of fire. She took a few hits to the shields in return.

"Sial?"

"Lining them up!"

Rixa ignored the fighter for a moment, letting the mirialan operate the rear turret and target the fighter coming back around.

Defensive fire snapped up towards them from the freight Rixa had lines up. Blue bolts cracked past the cockpit, one glancing off their shields hard enough to rattle Rixa’s teeth. She laughed.

"See," she said, rolling the ship to keep the freighter in front of them. "They’re paying attention now."

The Wayward Star fired a full volley of ion cannon fire as she strafed a bull freighter. It punched enough of a hole for her to fire the main disruptor cannon. She took apart it's dorsol cannon and also blasted a hole in its hull.

"Oops," she laughed as the Wayward shot through expelled air.

"Might'n remind the captain we're not supposed to do any real damage..." Voro sighed.

 

[Valephor Crokell]

OBJECTIVE ONE - LIFE DAY

Madrona A’Mia​

Despite his proclivity towards neuroticism, Valephor found himself relatively unbothered by the infiltration process. He knew they would be discovered eventually, but that kind of certainty made it a bit easier to accept, in its own way. Yes he feared death, but when you knew where everyone was at all times and could definitely say they were oblivious because there were no spikes of adrenaline when they saw you, it took a bit of the edge off of things.

Much more concerning was the idea he might make a fool of himself. That particular fear never quite went away, especially when in the presence of um- er, august company. 'Professor Medrano has things under control,' he assured himself, noting her utter lack of concern. 'She's probably conducted dozens of slaughters like these. Killed hundreds of people. Maybe even thousands.' He took a steadying breath. 'I'm sure she knows what she's doing.'

"Excellent, Valephor. Some of the minutiae is unnecessary here during field work, but your enthusiasm for the task at hand is acceptable. How far does that sense of yours travel? Certainly there must be a limit to what you can take in."

The apostate blushed, his chest swelling a bit with pride at the implied praise. "Certainly! It's a bit like gravity, theoretically infinite in range, but in practice it diminishes to triviality over much shorter distances. Other life signatures also create noise that interferes further, which is almost always the limiting factor. Assuming nothing between us but empty space, I could- with great time and effort- sense you from the other side of the galaxy, but on a tropical world with a robust microbiome I'd be lucky to pick you out from a kilometer away, and that's even taking into consideration your unique biology and my growing familiarity with it-"

His mouth clicked shut, his jaw tensing as he realized what he'd just said. "N-not that I'm peeping or anything! It's just um- well, you are a very distinct woman, with a very distinct energy and it's such a signature is hard not to, er, remember- not that I would ever want to forget! It's just, well-" he cleared his throat. "Ahem. Aside from that, it's mostly about attention management. Large distortions in homeostasis or unique signatures stand out if I'm not distracted, but I have to focus to get more information."

Valephor's ramblings came to a close, and he found himself drawn to Professor Medrano's gait. Oh, but the biomechanics of her body were so fascinating. No need for joints when your cellular structure could alternate between rigid and elastic at will. Effectively that made her pure muscle, though he wasn't sure how performance compared to more traditionally structured myocytes. He presumed she was strong though. Force within, she looked strong. She could probably pop his head like a grape with those-

No! Bad thoughts! Be respectful!

"The relationship reverses when it comes to dead-tech though," he blurted, trying to distract himself. "On Desevro, there's a thick enough microbiome that I can map the interiors of buildings as long as they're within a quarter of a kilometer. Same for droids. But-"

Suddenly, a mass of living greenery appeared. "Oh good heavens!" Valephor exclaimed, his voice high and shrill. Before he could ask what was going on, his Professor let out a noise that he would very much like to hear again, then flaunted the perfection of her body by effortlessly scurrying up a sheer wall, her form shifting just slightly to facilitate the feat.

The apostate only had enough time to recognize the hulk as one of Professor Medrano's 'Sithspawn' before vine-like tendrils wrapped around his waist, yanking him from his feet. He clamped his mouth shut with both hands to keep from singing like a choir boy as he ascended, stiff as a board as he was flung through the air. He thought that for sure he was going to splat into the wall, when the creature set him gently down inside the building, leaving him wide-eyed and shivering as he stood frozen.

Professor Medrano was already inside of course, lowering a body to the floor in motion so gentle he envied the dead. She turned her attention back to him, and he found himself warming beneath her gaze. 'Oh wow,' he thought, the blood on her face highlighting the teal of her eyes. It enhanced her beauty just as a flower in the hair of a debutante, adding an edge of intensity that had him distinctly aware of just how easily she could kill a foolish little Langhesi that strayed too close.

"We are to leave none alive," she reminded him, and he hung on to every word. 'I'm starting to think I might have a problem,' he acknowledged internally, though he displayed only a serious nod. "But I seek to leave most carnage to the others."

He blinked. 'Oh. Well, there goes my suggestion for reversing the filtration systems to suck out all the clean air and replace it with concentrated toxins to kill everyone in one go. And here I thought I was being clever too...'

"I am curious about the non sentients you mentioned," she continued. "Guard beasts perhaps? Also, if any of the children are near— we handle them first."

He opened his mouth to answer only to stop short as she wiped at her face with her robe. Was it wrong that he wished to be the one to do it? It made a certain kind of sense for a- a lower caste Acolyte such as himself to perform such a function. In recognition of her status of course. He just wanted the Professor to receive her due respect.

Yes. That was all.

"Questions or statements before we continue?"

Valephor flinched, feeling as though he'd been caught doing something wrong. "Ah, yes. The um, 'guard beasts' I can't attest to that one way or the other. There are life forms, they aren't sapient, and they're large. I am too unfamiliar with their biology to say more than what I already have. Most are towards the center of the complex, but three are scattered about, with one being somewhat close. It may or may not be in the building, I can't sense the walls well enough to tell."

He tried not to look too sheepish. "As for the children. Only one within a hundred meters- well there are actually thirty four within a hundred meters, but only one is in prime condition." He pointed. "Twenty three meters that way. The rest are deeper within the estate."

It was interesting, the route that the Neti was taking them on had wound through the estate without clear direction. He had no idea where she was taking them next, though he did note that it seemed to be avoiding the faint life signature with frightening precision. They were on the opposite side of the complex from it now. Meanwhile, they seemed to be getting closer to the one in stasis. And the damaged one sat in the center and below where it always had.

How curious.