We Come For Booty (Dominion Dom of Chiloon Rift and Irn)

[Causstik Rahn]

Causstik Rahn didn’t see the thermal detonator stop mid air. As his left eye was blinded it was out of his peripheral vision. The Sith withdrew a second lightsaber and blocked the Trandoshans blow. Chit! The thermal exploded. Causstik went flying and landed with a thud. His shields had absorbed most of the fire. They flickered then completely powered down.

Despite being shielded from the flame the shields could not stop the concussive blow that rocked him. Causstik got up on hands and knees and coughed up a bit of blood. Through Causstik's faltering vision he saw the Scorekeeper. She shook her head at him then reached out with her hand. Causstik took her hand and got to his feet. He would need all her strength for what was to come.

“Guide me Scorekeeper…” Causstik said fervently. Causstik spied the burning Sith and thought the man no immediate threat. So, Causstik turned his attention to the droid instead. Causstik raised his scattergun and fired.

[member="Krest"]
[member="HK-36"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Obective: Help the fam do their thing
Enemies: [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Allies: [member="Boethiah"] | [member="Nick Imura"] | [member="The Slave"] | [member="Antherion"]
Forces:

Spoiler

Godkillers (in Sig)
Alpha Company (In sig)
100 Hellstorm Heavy Assault Tanks
100 Icarus-Class Anti-Aircraft Tanks
the Behemoth
4 "AT-HSW" All Terran Heavy Support Walker
x12 "AT-FSW" All Terrain Fire Support Walker

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X79OkSayPSw[/media]​

Why the Dominion would open fire on a civilian vessel was more than Ardgal knew. Maybe they were terrorists or dictators. Or, hell, maybe they were just the new Imperial Remanent, looking to reply to their civilians with genocide and hellish murder. He didn't know, but he felt the ship buckle and lurch as the deflector sheilds took the beating.

"Woah, hold your fire! Sheesh! I'm turning around!" shouted poor Dex Ronab. "No need to get violent."

"I have this," Ardgal said before releasing the cargo container's latch. Hand over hand, he pulled himself through the zero gravity up to the bridge at the aft of this vessel. With a quick data slice the cyborg was in the bridge.

"What the--" Dax exclaimed in horror, lurching at the sight of this armored fiend.

"Relax, I am Commandeering your vessel," Ardgal interrupted, pistol in hand, "Continue forward. Max power to the engines and deflectors."

"Are you mad?" Dax exclaimed.

Ardgal sighed, striding to the controls. One free hand moved across the controls with a flurry, diverting all power to the shields and deflectors. This would be one hellva run. There was a reason he chose a GR-75. These ships were strong enough to take on Imperial Star Destroyers back in the day. He would run his luck with these. They didn't have to survive the encounter, they just had to make it to planetside. The ship buckled and lurched under the fire, flecks of white hot energy tore off the shields as they bull-rushed for the surface. Alarms blared through the cabin, lights flashing and screaming for attention but Ardgal had already anticipated it: the shields were gone. He rammed full power to the engines as the massive hull of this ship took a horrific battering. Turbolaser fire shattered the hull, breaking it, smashing the GR-75 without mercy. Sweat beaded Dax's lip as they entered atmos, "We're gonna die!"

"Relax, survival chances are 56% and holding steady," Ardgal said, his fingers flipping several more switches.

A few final salvos from these Dominating Dictators tore off generators 1-3. Ardgal flipped on to back up power, giving the ship its last surges of juice. And just like that they were over the outskirts of Irnfall. The Dominion could keep shooting, sure they could, but that would have a pure civilian causality level. Not that it seemed they cared about that. Smoking and shuttering, the GR-75 settled down on a parkinglot for a general store in Irnfall's suburbia. A few speeders got crushed in the process, but all in all, 9/10 points on the landing.

"All troops deploy," Ardgal ordered over his comms, "We are go for our launch."

The tanks tore through their durasteel holding containers in the belly of the Gangly Struts, making rapid deployments onto the planet. Ardgal looked to the shaking, horrified Dax. He fished a fist full of Gemstones from his pocket and pressed them in the palid man's hands. They would be untraceable, and enough to help the man make a new start with a better ship or even a fancy coffee shop to feed his family. "Go give your daughter her surgery. And get out of here, Dominion is likely to BDZ this area and kill all the civilians with it."

 

[HK-36]

[member="Causstik Rahn"], [member="Krest"],


One could wonder, if the Scorekeeper in Causstik's visions was effect of the Battle Meditation then how was that possible since the Trandoschan wore Void stone armor, which not only would protect him from Krest's Force-borne attacks but also cut him off from other Force abilities like whispers of spirits or his allies' support. But then again, it could just be him going nuts and hearing voices that just happened to start at the same time as the battle meditation.

Either way, seeing the two fly off in different directions from the detonator's blast between them, HK grabbed the edge of his chameleon cloak, wrapping it around him in a quick spin as he phased out of view just as Trandoschan pulled the trigger of his scatter gun. There was a faint blue flash of a deflector shield intercepting a couple of pellets that burnt out their incendiary charges against electromagnetic resistance before either disappearing beneath the cloak field or being ricocheted off somewhere from the protective layer. If Causstik's weapon was more accurate or there wasn't so much distance between him and the droid, since he did just got thrown in the opposite direction as the detonator that exploded was thrown by him at the droid, so it would be between him and the machine, then it would have probably dealt more damage.


Either way, Krest was right to worry about HK descending upon him finally as a pair of glowing red eyes would appear in front of him before the machine dropped his cloak and shifted back into existence in front of him, he did not bother with a sneak attack.

"Make this easier on yourself and give in."

The droid offered to Krest as he lifted up his free hand, opposite to the one he used to stop a thermal detonator. He clenched it as if he just wrapped it around someone's neck and Krest could feel a particular sensation of a gravitational anomaly forming withing his throat. It would be probably a strange feeling, not exactly like a Force choke as that was the Force closing around one's throat, this would try to strangle him from outside and within his throat, like a miniature black hole pulling his throat inwards to close it in and crush it.

HK would be fairly close to Krest as the closer he got to his target the stronger telekinesis of his grav gloves became, however he would be just out of Krest's swinging range, the Sith would probably remember HK being a more defensive fighter, using his opponent's strength against them during their attacks rather than coming in swinging to tear them down. This move was to provoke the Zabrak into closing in and attacking HK to stop his telekinetic assault.

The droid moved slightly, keeping the same distance but circling Krest so that his back would not be fully turned towards Causstik as the lizard man was probably going to either keep shooting at him or charge him.

 

[Subject 37]

​Location: Irn Orbit - Ship
​Objective: Aid Primeval
​Allies: [member="Lethia Morow"] | [member="Satia"]
​Enemies: [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="Owazza"] | [member="Causstik Rahn"] | [member="Alyson Halle"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]

Well they had never claimed that any of this would be easy, but then again these things sort of just happened.

Kiran felt the first shake of the vessel almost instantly, the rumbling of the fiberplast skin as one of the Interceptors swooped over head and Rigor turned the Nephilim to avoid it's fire. The great engines of the ship suddenly turned, pushing them further down into the atmosphere as lasers blasted just over head. The Trandoshan besides him let out a growl as one of the green bolts struck against the Nephilim's hull, scrapping a piece of the fiberplast away and causing the ship to shake.

"Shhh." Kiran told the man, patting him on the arm.

"It's fine." He scooped up the small pack on the floor and tossed it towards the man. "We knew this would happen."

There was a reason that they had chosen an infiltrator. They'd managed to get close enough to the atmosphere, and now...well now came the fun part. Kiran turned back towards the hall, glancing down towards Rigor as he slipped the mask of his armor onto his face. The Biot on his skin seemed to squirm slightly as the armor sealed itself, bringing him a wave of recycled air. His lips turned to a frown for a moment, the odd metallic taste clinging to his tongue. "Rigor, get us as close to the ground as you ca-"

In that moment one of the Interceptors punched a hole into the port engine.

Kiran let out a curse, then grabbed onto the metal railings of the ship as the Nephilim suddenly went spiraling down towards the planet below. They turned over and over again, the Trandoshan pulling on his jetpack as his other companion reached for a switch on the wall and violently pulled it.

Immediately the back hatch popped open, ripping away and flying towards one of the TIE's that had been chasing the Ship.

One by one the Three Saeva Mercenaries bounded from the ship, jetpacks roaring into life the moment they jumped free. They fell for half a seconds before the thrusters pushed them up high, then quickly they descended onto the ground before landing with a hard trio of thumps among a spire of rocks.

 

[Lethia Morow]

Location: Fairline Province, Irn​

Objective: Send the Heretics to Balagoth. Have a Nice Chat with the Prey.​

Equipment: Sacrificial Bone Dagger, EE-3 Blaster Carbine, Tattered Robes​

Allies: [member="Satia"], [member="Krest"], The Primeval​

Enemies: [member="Alyson Halle"], [member="Cedric Grayson"] (in a more metaphysical sense)​

Music: The Game is On​

​

---

Lethia smiled.

It was a friendly, warm smile, the sort that your grandmother might give you when you come to visit. When she turned to face Alyson, the armored woman wouldn't detect a hint of malice or anger.

Of course, she wouldn't detect a hint of sorrow or remorse, either, but why should Lethia have felt remorse? She had done the heretics a favor, after all. In fact, she had been about to explain that to Alyson, when -

"Enemies of the Dominion, you have come here to die,"

The monstrous young woman chuckled.

(At least, it was probably a chuckle. It sounded more like broken glass shoved into a blender, honestly)

The Dominion's commander thought he could demoralize the Primeval with threats of death? Death was beautiful. Death brought the Primeval closer to their gods. But most importantly, Death was temporary. All who died would be remade by Halrormalenth, sent once more into the Galaxy to do the bidding of the Three and One.

And then, once the grandiose speech had reached its conclusion, something rapturous happened.

Dread and Death washed over Lethia's soul like a fetid wave of rot, in response to which the young woman let out a disturbingly feline purr of satisfaction. It was as if Balagoth himself had his eyes upon her, had chosen her as his champion.

With that same smile as before, Lethia finally spoke, her voice mangled and garbled - but with a clearly defined, almost sensual undertone.

"̡Y͡our̀ ̷C͝óm̧mąnde͝r̷ şho̧u̸l̸d̸ stu̡d́y͡ ̛h̷is ene̛m͝i͏e̢s̴ ḿor͝e ̀c͢ar̀e͏full̨y̕, ch͏ild ̨of the͟ ͢L͞ig҉h͏ţ."͏

And then? Then she jumped. She jumped up into the forest canopy, partially to obscure her movements, but also to get a better vantage point from which to stalk her prey.

The Hunt was on.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rift​

​

[member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

[member="Vitor Avendahl"]​

In truth all that Lord Fa did was to teach them in his ways.

Even Vitor, Knighted and a Sith on his own accord, was still given the lessons freely. This because Tai was not a sentient of greed and actively refused the tradition of avarice that surrounded the Sith Order. It made them weak and incapable of adapting, it made the entirety of Sith fragile... after all, if the Masters did not pass along all they knew?

What would happen once those same Masters were dead?

Knowledge would disappear, simply pass into the void, because they were poisoned by cowardice and were afraid that by giving their students the tutelage they needed they would turn into threats.

Disgraceful behavior.

Vanja surprised and pleased him with her astuteness.

An inclination of the beak followed in acceptance of her analysis of the situation, most of it aligned with the same possibilities the Thirriken had entertained. It seemed that the Twi'lek seemed to see the same pattern within the narrative and that meant that there was a distinct possibility it was true.

"We have not been able to find out yet." We. Vitor would know exactly who the other individual was and could assume that the Givin was here as well.... somwhere.

"But yes, I have already identified two individuals who we could approach."

Again the casual wave of his wing that manipulated the holograms. In its wake two figures flickered online and information was displayed next to them, one by one.

A female Twi'lek, Lethan, with a pleasant smile on the lips. Smuggler Queen - she had made her fortune smuggling a variety of narcotics and guns across the Galaxy. They called her the Blood Regent, because of her skin but apparently also for her treatment of her enemies.

Something about bathing in their fluids... it wasn't too pleasant.

The next one was a Liran. Those were rare especially so deep within the Chiloon Rift. Her eye was burned out and she was wearing protection across the scarring. Her reputation was relatively clean - her operations mostly focused around upgrading and selling all manners of illegal cybernetics, ships, weapons... if it was cutting edge and outlawed in at least twenty sectors, you better believe the Alloy Maiden had a finger in it, if not more.

"Thoughts?"

 

[Zef Halo]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rift​

​

Tai Fa's acolyte was first to deliver her input on the matter. Vitor patiently listened to what she said and could easily identify Lord Fa's analytical trace upon her.

The Thirriken's signature way of thinking. Dissecting every little bit of information, arranging it in patterns and trends and reaching various conclusions. Avendahl couldn't deny that he shared similar traits thanks to Lord Fa.

Then the Sith Lord spoke and the Knight could not help but smile for a moment at the indirect mention of Guul. Lord Fa's Givin spymaster who had helped Vitor on different occasions. Of course, he would be somewhere here.

Where?

Vitor would only know when Guul wanted him to know.

Holographic projections lit up from the table showing a female Twi'lek and...something else. It resembled a female twi'lek but without the lekku. He had never seen one before.

"So a gunrunner and a...gunmaker. Sort of." Vitor noted more to himself than anybody else before he turned his attention to his two companion while crossing his arms. "Every struggle for power, more or less, includes some sort of gun action, doesn't it? The gunrunner, the red Twi'lek, if she is no mediocre smuggler than she would know a great lot about her clients. There's always more than one side on the battlefield." He paused to gather his breath before adding while he couldn't help but feel as if this was yet another exam by Lord Fa.

"Finding out what sides there are in this conflict, in my opinion, should be our initial approach. That way we can find more about this pyramid." He glanced at Vanja for a moment before shifting his eyes to Lord Fa. Vitor's own input to the situation was in agreement to what the acolyte had spoken a moment before.

You can't play Dejarik without knowing what your pieces are.

​

[member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

"God.. Damn.. Hypocritical.. Machines.." It was definitely a new sensation, with his throat closing in from the inside. It had always been these damn machines that had gotten in the way. Krest hadn't even started the fight, and it was the damn Trandoshan who brought [member="HK-36"] into it. Figures. The Vong body wouldn't allow any direct influence from the Force, meaning it was another annoyance to overcome.

Ah well.

With [member="Causstik Rahn"] and his voidstone far enough away the Zabrak was able to fully use the Force, and his current pain only made him stronger. In a simple quick movement he brought up the handcannon from his side and fired several shots for the droids hands. The Force focused his arm, giving him the strength needed to keep the blaster level. HK wanted to lure him in, Krest wasn't about to let it happen.

 

[Isaac Rennek]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rif​

​

Vanja smiled, seeming a little less carefree at a sign of Tai Fa's approval. She could go about pretending, showcasing a 'whatever'-kind of attitude as much as she liked, but the approval of her mentor mattered. She wanted to impress him. Wanted to show him that she could learn. Little did she know that her survival likely depended on it. However she had passed her first test at Validusia. She had her uses.

Gradually invested into their little operation, the Twi'lek paid more attention to their strategy talk this time around. Tai Fa mentioned two of their possible targets and showed a holographic image of them. It was around this time that Vanja started to lose her objectivity.

We take her. Traitor. The Twi'lek is mine. - all of which phrases Vanja very nearly uttered out loud. Who was she? Slaver? Pirate? Drug dealer... Aha. Well, at least she did not deal in slaves, that would have made her a marked woman as far as Vanja was concerned. Not that her concerns mattered, she was not calling the shots. But being a Twi'lek she ought to understand. She should know.... Filthy Lethan didn't know better, only out for themselves at the expense of the misery of others. Trash. Scum. No better than the rest of them.

While she had said nothing yet it was hard for her to hide the anger seething underneath the surface, a slowly building hate. She did not know this woman, who she made suffer, who she spared. She knew nothing of her code or even if she had one. But she didn't need to. Vanja's imagination was running wild, and it was creating quite the image in her mind. Detached from reality, but seemed real enough to her.

"Narcotics are a good way to break people or make them dependent on you. Who are her enemies?" Vanja managed finally, trying to rationalise her targeting in advance. She wanted to break this one. Prove herself superior. Push her into the dirt, stand above her, and smile. The other woman Tai Fa had showed them was forgotten. She had not seen her like before, and it did not matter. Suddenly Vanja was not as cold and calculating as Vitor had given her credit for.

| [member="Tai Fa"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] |​

 

[Darth Eversor]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSu1uv3R_Ng​

Around the corner, through the hall - what the feth is that?

Upon reaching the entry to the hangar bay, Abraxas witnessed something that shouldn't have existed - not on the Acerbitas, not ever. A mockery of life, molded wrongly by the hands of only one Sith that would dare to stoop this low to send terror throughout the vessel. This method of intimidation through the attempt of playing as some sort of deity was foolhardy at best, and disturbingly enlightening as to what [member="Antherion"] intended to do at worst.

Yet, Abraxas could not help but to admire the kind of power radiating from both the abomination as well as the Dread Seed just behind the aforementioned obstacle.

"...You won't stop me so easily, I too was once as abominable as you."

Fueling with rage and an impatience to apprehend the artifact's captor, Abraxas placed his hand along the corridor as the beast howled with the suffering of multiple beings fused together. It tensed in its demeanor and began to barrel down the narrow hall, but it would be none the wiser than the Sith's cunning.

Suddenly, durasteel would jut out from the corridor on either side of the ceiling and floor, impaling and slicing through the tainted flesh of the monstrosity. Wails of pain and anguish sang sorrowfully, dying with the delay of multiple voices fading one after the other. It is over... your suffering ends here.

Walking passed the defeated creature, Abraxas now appeared victorious thus far in the hangar bay where his target stood, cradling the Dread Seed. A nauseating pain washed over the darkly clad warrior as he focused, or at least attempted to focus on the objective at hand. That... power...

The Dark Side, it calls out... it sways like a woman's alluring figure in the light of a moonlit window. The lust and the tension of waiting and wanting, the longing to relish in the pleasures of indulging one's soul in the depths of an aphrodisiac that can grant the wildest dreams of even the most perverse sadist.​

​

Was it wrong, then? The power that lingered on the lips of the spectator, no longer wanting to watch or stand, but to welcome the devil's kiss and taste the sweetest of sins that no other could possibly fathom. ​

​

That power... it was splendor, it was the murderer's muse.​

​

It was evil.​

Abraxas struggled to keep a clear head as he aimed his lightsaber downward at the lying thief. "You aren't going anywhere, Antherion. That Dread Seed doesn't belong to you, and if I must take it through force, then by all means try to test my patience."

[member="Cedric Grayson"] | [member="Judas Foster"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Port Menicha​

​

Chiloon Rift​

​

[member="Vanja Del'Vaan"]​

[member="Vitor Avendahl"]​

Tai had to remind himself that at the very end of the day Vanja was still a young soul.

One that was easily distracted, influenced or manipulated - after all, had it not been the same way, when he started to guide her on the path she was on right now? Luckily Vitor already knew what was happening. As someone he now considered more an associate than an apprentice, the Thirriken did not mind to fill him in on some of the details. Vanja's initial fall and what had preceded it and what Tai's plans were for her.

It would be beneficial if Vitor knew what was happening, so he could act accordingly.

"Vanja, I need you to focus." Tai cautioned patiently, while his eyes calmly studied the outlines of the Blood Regent. Perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him they had picked this one.

The figure of crimson and violence and blood was a natural draw for these two.

But it hardly mattered, both were equally viable choices, it was why they had been pulled from the dossiers and put on the display in the first place.

"Rage and anger and fury... potent tools, but if they control you? You curtail your own wings, before you can set off to fly."

Before they could make any other decisions, this was something that Vanja had to rein in.

Otherwise Tai would need to put her down.

If there was one thing that the Thirriken would not abide by it was a threat to his plans. A loose cannon was most definitely a threat where they were going.

"Do you understand?"

 

[Grace Darkson]

Location: Irnfall
Objective: Evacuate Civillians
Allies: Dominion, [member="Jessica Med-Beq"]
Enemies: [member="Ardgal Raxis"], Primeval

The situation in Irnfall was getting worse, and it was all Grace could do to keep working and not charge in. She wanted to help them take these enemies down, but she had a task of her own. The Atrisian Guard was spread thin throughout the city, pulling Civilians away from the murder cult's troops and onto transports to get them to a safe distance. So when a new ship came down, the ties streaking overhead, for a moment, it was all she could to to not sprint forward. One of the officers of the Guard approached her, and she nodded to him. "Lieutenant."

"What do you think?"

"The blockade shot them down. I'd say they're enemies." Grace pursed her lips, debating. "Keep getting the civilians to safety." As the lieutenant rushed off, relaying orders to his men. The Sith raised a comm unit to her lips. "This is Grace Darkson. We just had a large transport land outside Irnsfall. Could someone make sure they don't plan to interrupt the evacuation, and, if they're hostile, take them out?"

 

[Judas of Vahl]

Location: Sarnus, Chiloon Rift
Allies: The Dominion
Foes: The Primeval - [member="Aria Vale"], [member="Vaylin"]
Gear: See signature.
Music: Grindin'

The black dog snarled, baring his teeth as he charged.

Old habits died hard. The baring of fangs, animal-like keening in grief, and those signature snarls he gave all too often. It was simply the way he was raised, how he was bred. It was the ultimate form of simplicity, simply accepting the fact that each and every being in this galaxy was nothing more than an animal. Natural instincts, base needs and desires - and the same went for morality. Metal and steel paled in comparison to the iron will that beat in the heart of every being.

Especially his.

Those thudding footsteps of his pounded forward. They dug into the dirt with ease. He was the very definition of warrior. Decades of fighting in the worst part of the battlefield, holding the line, and storming forward to sweep foes from the trenches as if he was but a whirlwind of death and dismay.

Nothing would stop him.

Not even two beings also gifted by the Force.

Lowering his gait as he sprinted, Judas kept the shield hefted before him. The dragon's heads growled with ferocious delight, amphistaffs snapping and baying wildly as their master neared a possible source of food. The magnus pulsed in his hand, lapping at the blood slowly seeping from the ever-present gash across his palm.

He could sense the child of the Force before him. Tensing at his arrival before becoming the calm at the eye of the storm. The ebbing and flowing seemed to cease existing in that exact moment; it balled and curled before flying right at him. Grinding his teeth, he summoned his own reservoir of the Force. It seeped into him, filling him and empowering his muscles to the fullest extent - but only for a second. Just as the incoming stream of energy hit him, the charge increased twofold.

The kraetos took the brunt of the impact, baying only slightly, shrieking in anger. However, Judas felt his feet fumble. The dirt kicked up, churning beneath his kyrric before the footing was regained a split second later.

It slowed him. It angered him.

Judas closed the distance quickly. The second his brutish frame came with range of her, he sent the shield straight for her face. The amphistaffs hissed and snapped, lunging at her should she try to sidestep or dodge.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Location: The Acerbitas
Objective: Steal the Seed of Rage
Enemies: [The Dominion] [member="Abraxas"], [member="Vorian Adasca"], [member="Cedric Grayson"]
Allies: [The Primeval] [member="Lethia Morow"], [member="Moravian Zambrano"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Boethiah"]

One blow. His creature had served in opening the way to the docking bay, but then it had been cleaved straight in two, a surprisingly clean death, swift and painless for something that could know only pain, fear, and hate. He had meant to create a monster, but it had died like an insect. It was the price he had to pay for daring to taste euphoria, for letting himself lose himself in the reverie of the moment. He steeled his mind, locking out the whispers of the forsaken artifact within his hand.

Spoiler

[video]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HitDB-Be_74[/video]

He lowered the Seed as he turned back from partway through the hangar bay, though it continued its insistent radiation. It was time to focus on the monster at hand.

"Search your heart, Abraxas. The so-called Dominion does not deserve a treasure like this. They rain down fire and death, and willingly use force to dominate others, but they hide the truth of this behind a liar's meaningless words: order, justice, peace."


He offered a small, sad smile. "Do you seek penance by demeaning yourself? Even you do not deserve company such as this. You deserve more than what these fools can ever offer you, and you will never be as small as them no matter how hard you try. Do not try to stop me."

He sensed the confusion and avarice radiating from the warrior. So like him, so unlike him. He had some key piece of him still in place, some lingering, whispering shred of doubt or compassion, fostered in self-hatred, that strained against all the great tide of base nature. He almost feared what would happen if he tried to extinguish it... And he almost wanted to see. He could see now, see the whispers of the Seed keening against the man's mind.

He pushed, ever so slightly, in tune with the currents of the Force.

"The Dominion are hypocrites who use you as shamelessly as your family and lack the Zambranos' least trait of self-awareness. You should slaughter them all."

 

[Poe]

​Location: Irn
Objective: Eat Enemies!
​Equipment: Sith Sword, Sith Whip, My Chompers
​Allies: ​[member="Krest"] l [member="Kiran Vess"] l [member="Lethia Morow"]
Enemy: [member="Ra'a'mah"]



​The flying lizard flew past, missing me and the now absence girl who once crept up behind me; prompting me to deduce she had somehow followed me in my side-step roll, ready to press her cowardly attack. Her first attack, assuming a blade, entered my loose fitting robe, and when I spun around quickly, my robe ripped along the edge of her blade sending particles of material in the arid air rather than my blood. The second attack came in a downward motion, but when I had begun my spin around I was already in the process of withdrawing my Sith Sword, so her dagger struck my half exposed blade like it was a shield. I stepped back from my enemy, finally bringing the sword to full bloom.

​From an unknown source, I felt my natural mental blockade push away some invasion of the mind; but whatever or whomever caused it had failed. My focus was on the girl, now left alone to deal with a real life Monster; not the kind that hides under the beds of children, but the kind that reaches out from the unseen shadows and drags them into a chainsaw maw, ripping flesh and dismembering them violently. ​"Your failure to attack me successfully from behind is duly noted, prey. Let's hope your second act is better written now that you are facing me."

 

[Tyberius Fel]

Location: The Acerbitas
Objectives: Secure the Dread Seed, at all costs.
Allies: The Dominion
Enemies: Primeval Insurgents
Equipment: Custom Lightsaber and Robes

Vorian Adasca came upon the holding chamber for the Dread Seed, only to find the containment breached and the hideously mutilated remains of the guards scattered about in smears of viscera, Abraxas nowhere to be seen.

"Lovely."

The Arkanian Sorcerer retrieved his commlink from the depth of his robes and tuned in onto the channel of the Acberitas.

"Captain? This is Vorian Adasca, acting upon orders of Archlord Grayson. Have you noticed any unusual activity?"

Static, then in a voice refined with a Eriaduan accent.

"Lord Adasca, we've failed to receive the usual status report from several of the marine units. Has something become of them?"

Vorian lifted his foot, damp with crimson gore.

"I'm afraid they're going to have to be mopped up. What are the status of the ship's CCTV?"

"Mostly concentrated around critical areas, my lord. Would you like a feed?"

The Dread Seed's intense bogan aura's burned like a flare from the hanger bay, accompanied by two lesser dark sided beings.

"To the left hangers."

A ethereal holographic image sprouted from the emitter integrated within Vorian's commlink. He toggled through the exact cameras until he spotted the figure of Antherion clutching the pulsating artifact that could be nothing else but the Dread Seed accompanied by some nightmarish abomination of plasteel plates consumed by swollen pink flesh, which the hulking armored figure of Abraxas tore apart utilizing the Durasteel of the ship itself. The once Zambrano-thrall hurriedly sprinted to conflict the thief, though Vorian was distrustful in the blood lust of his ally.

He contemplated the sordid sight for a moment. The Primeval traitor attempted to seduce the blood knight, twist his mind with the honeyed words and the fury of the Dread Seed. Abraxas may had been an ally, but the risk was intolerable.

"Lord Adasca..?"

"Seal all entrances to the hanger bays and neighboring corridors, order any troops nearby to evacuate. Then, prepare the tractor beam."

"The tractor beam, my Lord?"

With a sharp inhale, the recycled stagnant air of the Star Dreadnought filled the Arkanian's lungs. A vein, black with corruption, pulsated at his temples. Abraxas would have been a excellent tool, and perhaps with enough molding, something greater than his origins as a tool. A shame. But the Dread Seed was the priority.

"Deactivate the magnetic shields and blow the airlocks. Tractor beam their frozen corpses back in, with the artifact intact. Understood?" He sighed.

"Of course, my Lord. For the Dominion."

The vacuum of space wrapped it's frigid grasp on every object and person inside the hanger bay and yanked.

[member="Abraxas"]
[member="Antherion"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Gold clicked against the knuckles as the coin turned and turned over the fingers. Fluent, never-ending, like the train of thought in the mind executing it. Burning eyes watched a screen with intense focus. White teeth bit down upon an ashen knuckle as the eyes narrowed, skipped back, and read once more. The words streamed through her mind, harvesting meaning like the reaper's scythe. Then, the gold stopped abruptly between her blackened digits. The fist clenched as painted lips retracted into a wicked smile.

"Fair, I will partake."

The screens turned dark as she swiped with her ashen hand. The gold vanished in her palm, tucked away into a secret compartment in her sleeve. It was an old gift, one that had turned her life around on Rattatak. A choice was made: To live life bathed in blood for upkeep of the self rather than wasting away in squalor and a haze of spice until it was her turn to be reaped.

"To freedom and a red dawn."

A swipe of her right hand plucked the little tea of still warm tea from its tray and brought it to her lips. She gulped down the sweet, fragrant liquid and placed the cup down with a flick far too practised. While the other hand pulled the dark fabric of her hood down over the bald scalp of her head.

The Pale Assassin found interest in the liberty and independence of the Chiloon Rift. So she spread her livid talons to the earth and reaped.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: Irnfall
Objective: Defend the city
Gear: Lightsaber, armor
Allies: Dominion [member="Grace Darkson"]
Enemies: Primeval [member="Ardgal Raxis"] [member="Kiran Vess"]
Music: Prussia theme (Cossacks 3)

"Our scouts report that an enemy force of mostly armored units have landed on the outskirts of Irnfall: with it are some walkers" a squadron leader reported in.

"Load all bombers with heavy ion bombs! Precision cluster missiles on the fighters will make short work of the stragglers, but fire them only after the bombs have been dropped. And then we can send in infantry to disable them and engage their infantry, in detail if possible"

The main armor unit that landed in Irnfall's suburbs comprised 200 tanks, for now closely packed together, around an area comprising a GR75 that landed on top of a general store's parking lot in its landing attempt. Then the 24 bombers would be loaded with heavy ion bombs, of which they could carry two apiece, and that the TIE Advanced X1s would be able to use cluster missiles to take out tanks by attacking them from above. The Primeval needed those allies: they brought anti-aircraft, but their armored brigade will take far too long to be effectively deployed: our own complement of troops took an hour to deploy in full across the city. Otherwise they would fight much like the Sith Order had, and that had failed them completely on Midvinter, due to their deficient invasion protocol, she thought, realizing that 200 tanks tightly packed close together were vulnerable to weapons with large area-of-effect stuff: it's also likely that the explosion of one tank can severely damage its neighbors. Like those heavy ion bombs that will rain incapacitating poodoo upon the enemy so that infantry can move in and destroy the tanks afterward.

"We can't leave the city's airspace under the Primeval's hands. We have to leave one squadron over the city: enough for the enemy to be baited into an air superiority trap, but not enough to be completely defenseless from above. Them Yula will be able to intervene and take out the enemy airpower if that occurred"

"Yula will arrive in about ten minutes in such an eventuality" the combat controller told Jessica.

"Fighter squadrons 1-3, escort the bombers: pull up and come in for another pass after the bombs have been dropped, and then fire the cluster missiles"

"Roger, roger" the bomber commander acknowledged.

The main advantage Jessica already being in Irnfall is that calling in an airstrike would be much faster: waiting for Yula would mean that some of the enemy anti-aircraft vehicles may have deployed by the time Yula arrived. As it was, the designated three squadrons of fighters took off, and maintained a safe altitude not to be caught in the fallout of the ion bombs, while the bombers did the same, keeping formations tight. Tight enough so that there would be overlaps in the blast radius of the heavy ion bombs being dropped but not so tight Because the crash site of the enemy landing craft in the city's outskirts was four kilometers away from the city limits, it took only a few moments for the bombers to arrive in range of the general store and drop its ordnance in a glorious display of ionite-based explosions, with the whole formation fanning out in five or six different directions so as to come around for another pass, where the fighters would then fire precision cluster missiles. Meanwhile, Grace Darkson took up position in the spaceport, the very spaceport they sought to defend against Primeval attacks, evacuating as many civilians as was possible. But the evac team in Grace's transport couldn't do it on its own. That is no good: now Yula had to both decide how much to use to escort the evacuation ship, how much to commit if the Primeval called in an airstrike to attack Irnfall. Then again, I have a similar set of issues with my infantry, she thought, while pondering her options related to infantry.

"New objective: infantry is to assist in the evacuation of Irnfall, but stay on your guard: the Primeval forces will aim for the spaceport without fail"

"You should let the evacuation team know that we're there" the combat controller told Jessica.

"Evacuation team, this is Irnfall Command: reinforcements are en route to assist with the evacuation and escort the evacuees" she told Grace on an encrypted command channel.

Spoiler: Troop composition

Aircraft (stationed in Irnfall):

48 TIE Advanced X1s
24 TIE Reavers

Anti-aircraft emplacements: 80 Kaeshana light hypervelocity cannons

Ground vehicles:

36 Zamboni minesweeping main battle tanks
12 T3-B anti-aircraft vehicles

Infantry:

2100 Dominion troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• RX-329 Blaster Rifle
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)
• Korriban heavy machineguns (3 for every 100 men)

400 armed citizenry
Gear: RX-329 Blaster Rifle

100 Dominion snipers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• Snips Sniper Blaster
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

100 missile troopers
Gear:

• Zevronce Peacekeeper Armor
• MiniMan PTL missile launchers
• Assasin Sidearm (sidearm)

 

[Causstik Rahn]

[SIZE=11pt]Causstik watched as the droid disappeared seemingly in thin air. A few of the pellets hit his cloak with a blue shimmering glow, but it soon dissipated and Causstik lost all sight of the droid. Causstik took the moment to reload. After he had switched out his shells for a different type the droid had reappeared. This time he was right around the fallen Sith. HK raised his arm and seemed to be force choking the red man.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Causstik took this moment to approach. He laid down semi automatic fire from his shotgun as he made his way forward. BOW BOW BOW BOW. As the shells raced towards their intended target the Sith raised his own gun. It all happened in a split second. The Sith firing his gun at the droid and Causstik firing his gun at the both of them. Causstik thought it funny for a moment. Out of the three of them the vaunted Sith lord seemed to be the worse for ware.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He snickered to himself as his weapon barked away. Causstik stopped firing as he spent the last of his six rounds and withdrew a Cigarra from his pocket. He lifted his hot barrel and lit the stick of tobacco with it. Today was a good day. He’d have the chance to gain back the Jagganath points he lost and strike fear into the heart of force users everywhere when he scalped this powerful Sith lord.[/SIZE]

[member="Krest"]
[member="HK-36"]

 

[NightSister]

LOCATION: Sarnus, outside the outpost
OBJECTIVE: Punch the bad guys
ALLIES: [member="Vaylin"], [member="Soryn Solimar"]
ENEMIES: [member="Judas Foster"], [member="Teresa Shan"], [member="Arisa Yune"], [member="Rakieh Atur"]
MUSIC: Mr Self Destruct

Once, what felt like a long, long time ago, Aria had passed out under the power of a Sith Lord's attack. Not because she couldn't defend herself - because she wouldn't. She'd been fed energy, given power, and left it untouched; refused to take control of it because it was darkness, and Aria wasn't supposed to tap into the darkness. There was still a mark on her ribcage from that fight, a permanent reminder of the time that she could've been powerful and chose instead to buckle to defend her ideals - chose to be weak.

She remembered Balmorra now, felt scars that had long faded, felt the ghost of lightning pricking at her skin. That was the first time she'd ever felt weakness, truly understood just how powerless she was (how powerless you chose to be). The moment her rib had healed, Aria had taken to Voss's nearest martial arts gym and she had trained, and she had trained without stopping. Her illusion of control had shattered, and she had needed to regain it. That longing to feel powerful had shifted ever-so-slowly into a longing to be powerful, and after far too long she'd realised what exactly it was that eternally got in the way of power.

Aria had left the Jedi, thrown an entire life away, because she'd realised she was weak - because she'd realised just how it felt to be weak.

That was long ago, though. Now she was stronger.

No.

Now she was strong.

And it was fighting - fighting and winning that realised her strength. She needed only to see a sign of success, and suddenly it became so much easier; the spar became a dance, a game, moving backwards and forwards, giving and taking, until finally she came out on top. Never thoughtless rage, even when it was hatred and hatred alone that guided her strikes - even through the pure anger, she was calm, and she was calculating, and she was in control.

The moment she saw his footing waver, she mentally relaxed. A shield came flying at her skull; a pair of amphistaffs shot from its shape at either side. So Vaylin had been right, she thought fleetingly, pleased. What was this thing made of? It didn't look like something a lightsaber would do much to block. Chit. She took a single step backwards, careful not to let it be more than that, and ducked at the last possible second. Prepared for the likelihood that Judas would call his weapon back to him, she stayed half-crouched another moment, and then her knees straightened, ready to follow up. He was closer now, and she would have to choose her moves carefully.

But she'd strike first this time, and so she did. Free hand extended, flame burst into life and flew for Judas, aiming at the only spot the armour left vulnerable - his head - and a smile danced on her features.