Twilight of Prophecy [TSE Dominion of Voss]

[Arage Bao]

Location: Shrine of Healing, Voss.
Objective: Lay claim.
Allies: [member="Delmon Karrde"] | [member="Koda Fett"]

The Muun stared impassively as the entire process went down.

Then the explosions -- softer than expected, louder than was comfortable -- popped all at the same time. They breached open holes and Ardeth could hear the groan of metal as the internal structure rearranged itself according to the new support lines. It didn't take long for the soldiers to start pulling the gate out of its centerfold piece, where it dropped down on the ground with a large boom.

Dust rose up in response, the beautiful tiling shattering in response to its weight, but Ardeth did not care.

All he cared about was stepped onto the gate, over it, through the gaping hole that was the new entrance and then... witnessing pure glory. Just as the Mystic's mind had shown him... rows upon rows, stacks upon stacks.

Glowing objects of different shapes, most of them cubes, but some having different geometrical figures.

They extended farther into the complex than expected- even the memory hadn't suggested the vault to be this large. "The sentients that belonged to this mission will be duly rewarded for their service." Ardeth said in a tone that indicated pure joy. Behind them rows of Inquisitors arrived fresh from the battle above. Their sabers extinguished, their pure white stained by blood and dust and soot.

The Muun had picked them personally.

"We secure the vaults and then we move out." Rather than leave... Ardeth moved deeper into the vaults, his fingers trailing the many cubes, humming softly to himself.

This was a good day.

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

"Hmmm."

Hirou tipped their head this way then that. Mulling.

"I'm sorry, Kalak the Raykkan," they said finally, with real sadness in their voice. "While Nezumi are very good at naming things, I do not think our naming conventions would be 'marketable'. People have a rather difficult time often, with Nezumi names after all."

A paused and then they looked up, tail flicking and ears shaking with amusement.

"You could always just call is 'Voss Sauce'."

The rhyme amused the little creature clearly.

Hirou made friends in the most unlikely of places with the most unlikely of people. Today on Voss was no different. While it could be assured that the little creature would never eat at one of Kalak's establishments and that Kalak would never find enjoyment at a table set by the Nezumi, that was perfectly fine.

Friends didn't have to like all of the same things, after all.

Shortly, the Nezumi would take their leave. With a bow and another thank you for saving them, it was time to go. While the Legion of Voss was being torn apart, there was still much here to do.

An Agent of the Saaraishash, Hirou was, after all, a very busy mouse.

[member="Kalak the Raykkan"]

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Voss-Ka, Voss​

Objective I​

Theme​

Like wolves encircling a pen of sheep, it was clear that all that remained was mopping up the last of the resisting elements, if the communications were valid.

With the demolitions teams having planted their explosives and reached a safe distance, the sudden burst of explosive fire brought a section of the wall down and opened up the way into Voss-Ka itself. As it appeared that the Voss and the League were rapidly declining in their morale and ability to fight by the hour, Vestille knew that his part in this operation was nothing more than clean up, sanitation; disposing of the last few dissidents that would no doubt rise up in resistance should they be allowed to live. To those men that swept into the breach, flamethrowers acting as the vanguard and sweeping any defenders that remained in an arc of blazing napalm that clutched to armor and flesh without discrimination, the entrance of Vestille and his men was more than noticeable since the bellowing explosion that brought down part of the wall. Things such as damage to structures and fortifications were no doubt commonplace at that moment on Voss but such things were easily replaced and rebuilt. As pockets of Voss and League alike were tightened and squeezed by various Imperial elements, there appeared to be a large pocket of resistance still unattended, hoping to load up supplies and try and make their escape. If they were allowed to do this, they would flee to the hills and try to lick their wounds, remain concealed and wait for the next best opportunity to enact their vengeance upon the Sith Empire. Whilst other elements were busy with their own assignments, Vestille knew what needed to be done; what the reaper was due. Order was to be delivered and maintained, even if it were to sit atop a pile of ashes.

With a wave of his hand, signaling his men to advance, they began to split off into squads and proceeded to where they belonged; where the fighting was heaviest. As they went through street after street, they saw the aftermath of the destruction that had been left in the wake of progress; destroyed buildings, bodies littering the streets, this is what they knew all too well. A sea of colors littered the floor as the men stepped over fallen son, daughters and parents alike. It was true, what they had said about the Voss and the League; they were willing to put up anything to defend their home, even a generation if it came to it and, from what it looked like, a generation had been made into nothing but dust... For what end? Vestille thought this, as he waded through the now somewhat quiet streets as opposed to earlier in the day; just what did this grant the Voss? Their liberty? Retaining their honor? To the man who had walked over battlefield after battlefield, he saw only a waste. Things perhaps would have been better for the Voss if they had just lowered their defenses and let the Sith take their land and leave the blood spilling and lives destroyed out of the equation. Try as he could to relate, however, the former Commander simply couldn't.

In fact, he didn't feel a damn thing. Whatever spark of empathy died just moments since its conception and daughters and sons soon became enemy combatants. And it was here that he snapped back into doctrine and tactics as the sounds of battle drew nearer with every step.

As the Imperial and Gravewalker troops alike moved in on the large pocket of resistance, formed mostly around one of the great spires within Voss-Ka itself, it appeared that this was the last ditch effort for many of the Voss and League soldiers that hadn't been killed or forced to surrender. This was their final resting place, to do or die. Encircled and no doubt having stockpiled as much as they could for their last stand, it was clear that they were expecting no mercy for the invaders and Vestille knew that there was none to be given. As his men joined the other Imperial elements and prepared their final assault, the former Commander positioned his troops to act as the vanguard once more; flamethrowers were prepared and raring to burst fire upon the enemy, the same could be said for the various supporting elements. As the suppressing fire came from the Voss and League troops as they hardened their position around the spire, Vestille knew that things were to end here and now. Enemies were to be removed from their heads quickly and efficiently; shows and examples could be made once the last willing combatant was dead on the floor... And so it began, with the thumps behind the wall.

As mortars still kept at the original landing zone started to open fire as per the coordinates passed along by one of his subordinates, the sandbag-protected Voss and Voss friends alike were suddenly caught under a blanket of explosive shells raining upon their position. Whatever heavy weapons were being poured upon the surrounding Imperial troops were silenced; either killed or suppressed by the incoming barrage. It was from there that the window was opened and the advance began, under the supporting fire of support weapons and regular blaster fire from all around. It was this overwhelming amount of Imperial firepower that kept the resisting Voss and their allies from returning any sort of retort; for fear that if they poked their heads up, they would suddenly find themselves riddled with blaster bolts and pulse rounds alike. This, of course, was all maintained and vital to the men that crossed the gap between Imperial and Voss lines, at the forefront being the flamethrower-welding Gravewalkers, utilizing their heavier, bulkier armor to provide them with more of a chance should they come under fire. As the fire seemed to cease and the Voss and their allies began to pop their heads up to begin returning fire, they were met with quite the sight... In the form of liquid death spraying over their fortified positions.

Whatever hope they had fell as the first stream of burning hot napalm washed over Voss and their allies alike. As the flamethrowers closed in and delivered the sentence on the spot, the sight must have been something horrific, terrifying to most; blasters were easy, pick one up and shoot and watch whatever you want dead do just that but to see your friends and brothers in arms flail and burn? It was clear that the remaining survivors panicked and tried to rush for the entrance, forcing them to leave their doomed comrades behind to their meetings with death, only to find themselves locked out by their comrades, who were no doubt locking whatever they could outside so they could prepare their last stand. As the enemy left their posts in their panic, the Imperials and Gravewalkers alike rushed in to take their place around the base of the building. The encirclement had been squeezed and left only a handful left within the building itself, locked behind a singular door. As the engineers began their due process of getting said door open, Vestille took in the sight of what his troops had done. There was no beauty in this, no sense of moral righteousness or self fulfillment, this was simply war. A grim business but one that the former Commander basked in. As Imperials and his own men coordinated alike, the door bursting open and the sounds of flames flicking through the air and making contact with their targets and the screams that followed, Vestille saw only one thing;

His time within the Sith Empire was to be long and prosperous, a return to roots. His calling had found him and would make him once again.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

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The silent treatment? Understandable. He wasn't inclined to be charitable, but he saw enough light behind this acolyte's eyes to tell that it wasn't petulance, or any other of those troublesome, insubordinate impulses. This one? No, too smart for that. In that case, this would be... yes, the watchful kind. Waiting for instruction. He decided to oblige her.

"You can call me Darth Vesper. Or 'my lord,' if you really want to get friendly with me." He flashed a slight smile. "Now, down to business. I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're looking for the same pathway into the Voss' Spirit World that I am."

The Sith paused for a moment. "You know, I... studied the era of Voss diplomacy in the Cold War. Such a waste. The loss of so much power, so much potential."

As he spoke, he looked the acolyte up and down approvingly. "That being said, it isn't all gone - the Spirit World still holds fragments of power, and we could very well chance upon one such fragment."

He pondered for a moment, then motioned to the meditation tablet. "I'm going in - you're welcome to join me." Something metallic briefly shone, curling into a circle around where he knelt to concentrate. "If any unwanted guests approach, my companion can wake me - or perhaps just drive it off, if it's of little concern."

~​

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The spirit world was, first, golden. Shimmering, faintly blurred, Vesper's spectral form was somewhat different than his physical - he had a violet, malign presence, he clashed. He pulsated with the simple wrongness of something that did not belong, having been tainted by Revelation's Trumpet - the Darkstaff of The Slave, which had mutilated his soul, and left a permanent mark.

He surveyed the dreamscape - Voss was a world that embraced both light and darkness, and he could see the interplay of light and shadow, like the push and pull of the tide. When he focused his senses, he could make out a trail of faint energy, winding its way through what seemed like branching trees towards the Dark Heart, and he smiled with eagerness, waiting for his junior in the dark arts to join him.

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[member="Jantar Keltainen"]​

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar controlled her natural inclination to roll her eyes. There was something about title and rank in the Sith world that gave too many an air of invulnerability. If they believed in the hype, Jantar didn’t know. But she was aware that many did – although for others it was not more than a front.

The Acolyte had no way of telling just how powerful the Sith Lord was. But she had no inclination to find out or to test her own powers. For she was formidable for her level in Sith magic, but sadly lacking in her all-round abilities.

“Darth Vesper,” she replied, to confirm she’d understood the instruction. “And yes, I am looking to enter the Spirit World.”

Then she fell silent once more, listening and learning – cataloguing information for potential use later.

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The journey to the spirit world was simple – almost a disappointment. Entering hyperspace for the first time was more exciting. But then, she reminded herself, she was here for what she could learn – she was not on a sight-seeing trip.

Jantar suspected her own ethereal form was similar to the Sith Lord – a close facsimile, albeit slightly hazy – shimmering almost.

She lookeds around, as the Sith Lord was doing. It was not going to be a common occurrence, so Jantar wanted to commit as much to memory as she could – and look for any clues as to something, anything, she might be able to use to develop her learning.

She immediately latched on to a pathway – not visible, but that appeared to be in some way a manifestation of the dark-side. And she knew its destination – and from the look of her companion, so did he.

Jantar gave her surroundings one last look and then took a step forward, about to embark on the trail – awaiting Darth Vesper to take the lead.

[member="Darth Vesper"]