Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

We Return [ TSE Dominion of Korriban Hex ]

tinker tailor soldier spy
[member="Dante Sotari"]

"Don't know nothing 'bout no fruit basket, remind me when I visit you at the hospital. Got these tho." Morgan pulled out two small, hand-sized cylinders from his belt pocket and showed them. Thermal detonators with a range of about twenty-five meters, it would be enough to put a dent in their defenses and give them enough space to maneuver closer without being shot to pieces by their backline overwatch. Then, when they were close throw in the second one and breach them.

The chaos would hopefully be enough to overwhelm them and make quick time of the rest of them.

Morgan eyed her side for a moment, wondering if he wasn't being a touch too overconfident about this. If her side had been good he would have estimated their chance of success at 87.

Now?

53.

That was still more than half and it was the only thing keeping him from putting a lid on this entire thing. "Alright, gonna throw in 3, 2.." Voice went softer as Morgan breathed out and let her take over. Then the lull in between overwatch fire came, reload time, and Morgan rose up, praying that she had his six now as well.

No time to wonder.

His arm pulled back and Vance threw.
 
Location: Korriban, Deep below the Academy
Objective: Pursuing her own research

Well her pawns hadn't lasted long against the mutated terentatek, but that didn't mean they hadn't been useful. The lumbering beast had been injured, even when it had smashed the body of the offending k'lor slug against the walls of the chamber. With all of her pawns either dead or dying, the terentatek was turning its attention to her. Blood flowed from the wound on its leg, one of its horns torn out of its place. A deep gash was also present in the beast's hide along its neck where a shyrack had assaulted it.

The creature gave a roar, sending out a wave of darkness and fear in an attempt to freeze her in place. But, she had created such auras in her own creations and what was such fear when it was not directed? Pointless, a Sith Lady did not fear such things. If anything, she was more irritated than before. A cracking and popping sound filled the chamber as she unleashed Force Lightning, arcing it to attack the creature's wounded neck. There was a roar of pain as the blue bolts struck home, and it was enough to stagger it before her lightsaber flew from her hand.

With a simple thought, it flew back to her hand, leaving where it had sunk deep into the terentatek's neck. The great beast collapsed to join the rest of the dead monsters on the floor, and now... nothing stood within her way of discovering the secrets of the rituals done here.
 
One two Dante came up on her knee, sighting over the crest of the dune. Between two breaths, hand steady despite the pain, she got off a trio of shots, sending one man to his knees while the others were forced to take cover from the unexpected fire. Without knowing how many of them there were, it was the only thing they could do-

And then Morgan did his part and the scene at the base of the dune exploded in fire and vaporized sand.

It was their chance and they seized it. Up and over the hill, Dante letting the sand do the work. Knees bent, she started to slide, coasting down and picking targets one right after another, those who were still active in the wake of the explosion, but still recovering enough to leave them vulnerable.

One, two, three, four, the pistol sang out.

She didn't see him next to her, so much as simply knew he was there.

That was good enough for now.

[member="Morgan Vance"]
 
LOCATION: Entering Golg Valley
OBJECTIVE: Secure Golg Valley, Eliminate Errant Lord

Anora moved as silently as she could, reaching up slowly with one hand, slipping her fingers into a small crevice in the rock face, then slowly putting weight onto that hand. She removed weight from the opposite foot with the same level of care, glancing down to see the next foot hold, and laying her foot down upon it with the utmost care. Next, she pulled on the new hand hold and pushed at the new foot hold, releasing her opposite hand and foot to mimic the routine. After a few more feet of such careful climbing, she was at the lip of the cliff. She paused for a moment, forearms burning with strain, and listened.

After a few moments, she heard a soft scrape. It wasn't loud, but it was also not natural. No animal moving across this ground would sound like hard plastic moving against rock. She thought for a few moments, fairly certain it came from the left hand side of her path up the rock face.

Slowly, she crept her feet up the rock face, until she had her legs bunched enough to propel her over the lip when she leapt. She slipped her hand to the sheath at the small of her back, drawing out a blade. Then, before she could over think it, she pushed with her legs and pulled with the remaining hand grasping the wall, vaulting over the lip. She had misjudged the distance a bit, coming down on the lightly armored scout with her knees, instead of with the blade.

"Oomph!" The scout breathed out hard as her body landed hard across his mid section.

The scout was well trained, he instantly grasped for her blade hand. Being the nice, Serennoan girl she was, she let him have the blade instead. She lashed at the grasping hand with the blade, piercing the soft layer between fingers with an inch of blade. At the same time, she punched down with the knuckles of her off hand, striking the wind pipe of the scout before he could shout in pain or alarm.

A wheeze was all that came out before she whipped the blade up and stabbed it behind his ear, sinking it to the hilt. His eyes flashed for the barest of seconds, then his body went limp.

Her ears twitched, listening for any sounds of alarm, but hearing nothing but distant fighting, and the sounds of the wind pushing past the cliff edge.

Anora pulled the blade from her dead opponent, wiping the blade carefully on the scouts tunic. She patted down the body, finding a radio in his ear, and a small pistol. Not far away, likely thrown when she landed on him, a rifle lay in the dust. Sheathing her now clean blade, she ignored the other rifle and unlimbered her own. She took careful minutes to make sure nothing had gotten jostled too badly by the short fight or long climb that preceded it. Then she lay down a few meters away from the corpse, and began to scout the enemy positions.

Once she had a good handle of how best to proceed, she activated a burst comm.

"Reaper One Two on site and active." Was all she said, then she took her second victim into the sights of her sniper rifle, exhaled all the way, then caressed the trigger stud. A red lance of energy leapt out of her barrel, and arced down the battlefield to meet the neck joint of an enemy soldier who she could see shouting things. A burning hole ripped through his neck from one side, and the red lance laid the rest of its energy down into the dirt beside the soldier. The burned patch of ground was soon covered by the corpse of the soldier.

Anora didn't watch him fall, she switched targets and sighted in on another soldier, this one further down the battlefield, but calmly taking shots. She knew that style intimately, as any scout sniper would. A few moments later, the enemy scout sniper wasn't firing any more, and Anora moved to the next target.
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Anora Demici"]

"Reaper One Two on site and active."

67.

The voice filtered through his earpiece and presumably also Dante's the moment the agent pushed himself off the sand and let himself skid down the slope of the dune. At first he couldn't say anything, even when his expression turned into a soft grin, while his mind operated on automatic mode at this point.

The rifle rose up, stock against shoulder, eyes down the sight and another body dropped in response.

"Reaper One Two this is Strider, we need overwatch support on our twelve-" Morgan was interrupted briefly when a sniper shot rang close by, brushing past the armor-weave covering his arm and burning through. The hiss of pain losing itself from his lips. "-got enemy snipers, we need them down now, over."

Then Strider dropped to a crouch with Dante in tow, she continued to shoot while he grabbed for the second 'nade. This was starting to look both better and worse from where he was crouching. The sniper counter-fire was worse than Morgan had been expecting, but he had not been expecting Reaper One-Two to arrive over them.

That increased their chances.

Substantially.
 
She was perfectly content to let Morgan handle the comms. Her own attention was on picking off anyone who so much as poked their noses over the makeshift barrier separating them from the entrance of the tomb. Popping up just enough to let off a shot she drop again as sniper fire cut far too close for comfort.

"Overwatch Reaper one two, Rook moving in on the target. Trusting you to keep those snipers busy, over."

It was all she had time to say before she dropped into a flat out, zig zagging spring in the echo of Morgan's second grenade. It sent fire shooting through all the way to the base of her spine but she gritted her teeth and hauled arse- this was their last shot at this and she wasn't going to waste it.

The whole reason they were here..... a generator set up just inside the opening of a tunnel that led into the tombs. If they didn't take it out now, plan B was to drop a shot from orbit on the location- which would obliterate this section of the tombs. To say that was undesirable for the high muckity mucks would be an understatement.

She felt it, the hairs raised on her neck and she suddenly dropped, skidding into the tunnel entrance as a shot sliced through the air where her head had been a moment before.

"Rook on site! Keep me clear for thirty seconds, over."

She was already pulling out the small emp device that would short out the generator without collapsing the tunnel. It would take her thirty seconds to arm it in the field. She was relying on Morgan and Reaper to have her back.

[member="Morgan Vance"] [member="Anora Demici"]
 
LOCATION: Entering Golg Valley
OBJECTIVE: Secure Golg Valley, Eliminate Errant Lord



Morgan Vance said:
"Reaper One Two this is Strider, we need overwatch support on our twelve-"Morgan was interrupted briefly when a sniper shot rang close by, brushing past the armor-weave covering his arm and burning through. The hiss of pain losing itself from his lips. "-got enemy snipers, we need them down now, over."
"Aff, Strider, zeroing in." She replied, checking her HUD for only a moment before pivoting to a better position for overwatch on the two agents positions. As she settled in, one of the snipers edged closer for a shot. She didn't have time to think, or even aim consciously. She caressed the trigger stud and sent a lance of red energy through the cheek of the sniper. The shot boiled the liquid in the woman's brain, and caused a small case of explodey head.



Dante Sotari said:
"Overwatch Reaper one two, Rook moving in on the target. Trusting you to keep those snipers busy, over."
"I'll keep them on my dance card, Rook. Do your thing." With each kill, her voice got happier. Her sinuses were remarkably clear, her eyes focused, and her blood singing with endorphins.

She lined up her next shot on the scope of the next sniper. Anora didn't have a good angle on him due to the terrain, but she was pretty sure she could get him to pop up from cover.

"Strider, Rook, bogey at your 10 o'clock will be the weasel in two seconds." She gave them warning, then exhaled all the way, caressing the trigger stud at the end of it. This lance of red energy went down range and laid waste to the scope and barrel of the snipers rifle. The sniper in question leapt back, not having expected the rifle in his hands to suddenly get slagged.

In the time it took Anora to shoot, Rook had moved. The timing precipitous, as the sniper closest to her was now popping up.



Dante Sotari said:
"Rook on site! Keep me clear for thirty seconds, over."
Anora ejected her clip while sighting in on the next enemy soldier. This one preparing a grenade to return to Strider. She slid the new cartridge home, charged her cylinder, and sent a beam of red plasma screaming down into the soldier's chest. The grenade went off on his corpse, sending bits of bone, blood, and gristle in every direction.

Anora knew she was chancing things, not moving as she shot, but she had a good overwatch position. Her luck didn't entirely hold, however, enemy snipers from a position near where the generator was sitting. The pair of shots hit low, impacting the edge of the cliff below her. Anora counted her blessings and ducked backwards, pulling her rifle away from the edge and rolling to the left a few feet. This sent her down hill a bit, and she returned to the edge behind a small outcropping of rock and vegetation, and resumed her overwatch.

[member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"]
 
Location: Battling through the rebels in the Valley of Golg
Objective: Get to the Magister
Allies: [member="Venthis Zambrano"]
2/20

The Epicanthix had been to preoccupied with his foes to notice the presence of another Sith, and so the sound of his name being called over the roar of the battle surprised him. He too seemed to waft across the battlefield like a shadow, until he was back-to-back with [member="Venthis Zambrano"].

"We are united under this banner, under the Dark Lord, Venthis." he cried, simultaneously crushing a soldier's armour into itself, and flinging him into a concentrated group of militants like a bowling ball. "I am proud to fight by your side!"

With that, he continued to press on, and with an almighty shout, he summoned his troops to follow him deeper into the maze of death and fire. Unnatural sapphire flames danced around him, scorching the earth and melting the outmatched forces as if they were devoid of armour.

He turned again to his newfound ally "We need to find a way into that temple, and find the Magister to end this as soon as we can." his tone was questioning, and he expected a suggestion on how to do so as a response.
 
Allies: [member="Darth Venefica"] @Adriago Duilius
Location: Korriban
Object: Climb

She started climbing the red rock, she used her hands to keep her balance, whilst pushing up her legs. She was doing it no ropes, or other safety gear, it was a personal trial on Korriban. She wanted to give the planet the chance to kill her, if rock broke beneath her feet she would fall and break on sands off Korriban. She climbed and climbed each time she moved up, she looked for another place to put her hand, to stablizer her, and another place to put her foot to push her up. She stretched sometimes to find the right hand hold, contort herself, just to reach put her foot next postion, to help push up, sometimes she pushed and went for hand hold. Soon she climbed the three hundred meter cliff face, and she hoisted herself to top of the valley. She looked down on it, she saw droids unloading the cargo. Slaves clearing the site debris, and war droids setting up camp guard. The work had begun on rebuilding the academy, it was beautiful to watch from up here. She started pondering her time with [member="Rexus Drath"], she missed for moments like this, as she could share a view with him. Though she knew going back was never going to happen, she could not stay no matter how hard she tried to stay to light. He was happy in that, she could not help wonder how her daughter was Emily. She had to leave her too, as she was unsure what was happening next. She did miss the companionship though, someone to share this view with, and other things. She looked and saw the slaves getting to work, as droids unloaded the raw materials of the ships. She was happy, she just wished she had someone to share it with.
 
Outer Rim Territories
Korriban
Valley of Golg

The dead were sprawled out before him, rivers of maroon flowing across the dust-blasted stone of the tomb. Ever since the moment his pod had landed he had been assailed from every side, from every angle, by the errant magister's misguided soldiers. They had thought that they'd stand a chance if they overwhelmed the Dark Lord with waves upon waves of soldiers, latching onto the hope that it might be just too much for him and he'd be buried beneath a mound of corpses several meters deep.

Their hope had been misplaced.

Even though his armor and cloak were smeared with copious amounts of gore and red dust, Carnifex still rose above the graveyard of men he had constructed at the entrance to the Tomb of Graush. Yet even now they sought to stymie his advance, firing their weapons in desperation as the Black Iron Tyrant cut their comrades down with precise brutality. Those he did not carve to pieces with his lightsaber were crushed into paste against the tomb walls, their bones shattered upon impact as their organs exploded from the pressure. Those who attempted to run would find their legs unresponsive, their muscles seized in terror before their existence was snuffed out by a blade of raging sunfire.

The battle outside had been a diversion, truthfully. Nothing more than a ploy, a feint to draw out the magister's enemy by arraying the tiniest fraction of the Empire's strength in opposition to his hold over Korriban. In his overconfidence the Magister had overextended his forces in the Valley, which made breaching the tomb a simple matter for the Dark Lord. But as he traversed deeper and deeper into the sepulcher, the less resistance he faced.

Several of the tomb's chambers had been abandoned, their belongings left where they laid.

A flash of danger erupted in the Dark Lord's mind and he barely managed to raise his arms above his head as explosives imbedded in the ceiling detonated. Several tonnes of rock and stone descended to crush the Dark Lord, but was held back from doing so by his swift thinking and ironclad telekinetic hold. Even so, the strain was immense, and Carnifex visibly strained against the weight of so much bearing down upon his head.

Inch by inch he worked his way back the way he had come, towards safety, until after what seemed like an excruciating eternity he cleared himself of danger and let the tunnel collapse before him. In exhaustion he fell to one knee, bracing himself against the stone that would have crushed him to a pulp had he been a second too slow.

But it wasn't the prospect of almost dying that infuriated him, it was the fact that it was clear to him now that the magister had escaped.

Escaped justice, escaped his wrath.

The thought made his blood boil, and he seethed alone in the darkness of the tomb.


[member="Darth Prazutis"]
 
Location: A kilometer from the Mountainside.
Objective: Aid the dying Tuk'ata to give birth.
3/20

Mythos waved his hand a few meters from the bleeding mother Tuk'ata spreading the vile twisted nature of the darkside to the pup in her womb. By corrupting the very genetic structure of the the three pups Mythos brought fourth a new kind of power into play, the power of Sith Alchemy with every wave of his hand. From his satchel Mythos produced a bowl of white stone, carved by himself from the mountains of Midvinter and imbued with dark side energies, carved with runes and still stained with the blood and dark ooze from his previous endeavors... he called them black residues.

With the fist dagger he cut the palm of his hand, incantations and words of foul magic from the pits of chaos, spoken in the dialect of the Malebi and his accent down to the guttural noises of the creatures was identical in nature. A power foul in intent began oozing from the blood as it almost rhythmically began to drop into the bowl in between his knees. A whistle called his hound to his side, the sound of the machinery and blasts of the sonar behind him never drowning out the high pitch ring of his lips. His dagger dropped into the leather wrapping from whence it came, Mythos using a gentle act of telekinesis to gracefully land it in it's strap while picking up a second, needle like looking blade etched in teeth so foul it's nature was obvious due to it's design.

Mythos' full grown Tuk'ata bowed his head next to his master and Mythos Methodically lifted one of his ears rhythmically chanting louder and faster as he cut deep into the creatures rough skill, using the teeth of the ceremonial blade to rip out the scales in his head, making them also drop into the white bowl that seemed to grow alive with the mixture of blood and the power of the dark side of the force. It was now that Mythos turned to the belly of the beast itself, placing the bloodied knife in the satchel and picking up two different knives, much smaller and one resembling a ring that he put on the tip if his right index finger, the second small and thin with a curve at the very tip of the blade.

He leaned in, sensing the life of the mother fleeting away and thus him running out of time. Gently and almost in a rehersed manner Mythos opened the belly of the beast from neck to lower legs and inserted the hooked blade into the belly of the beast, reaching around with various squishing and tearing noises until he found what he was looking for. Placing the ring blade back into the pouch and using that hand to command the power of the force he slowly pulled the small blade bring out the Tuk'ata pup with a single body yet three heads floating into this bowl of blood. Methodically... he put his instruments away and sealed the leather encasement while bringing it up to his eye level. He began to read the writings in Sith on the leather encasement, each word producing a foul smelling green vapor from his bowl.

When he had finished he began focus his strength in the darkside ont he bowl itself and the chanting transformed into a series of repeated verses in pure blood Sith Dialect and Malebi. Grooms blood and his still trickling like a black and red waterfall of abominating fluid and the green aura of the Mother of the Tuk'ata being siphoned into the unborn pup something began to swirl inside the bowl as the embryo that carried the hound burst and the pup began to grow rapidly. The sounds that the creature made were unlike the sounds of a newborn Tuk'ata pup, it was distorted, like the whoosh of a force ghost through the force in between its three distinct yelps and howls.

The hound grew to newborn stature and a little more, Mythos kept the ritual going until the pup could't fit in the bowl... The medics he requested arrived, carrying several pods and equipment of first aid natures. "Take this pup back to the ship and ensure its survival... his fate will be the same as yours"

 
Location: Korriban, Deep below the Academy
Objective: Pursuing her own research

A pity there were no writings on it, not even a journal left behind by the Imperial Guardsmen that supposedly were on site. She had searched the rest of the catacombs around the chamber, but had sadly discovered nothing. Well, there were other methods that could be used to gain the knowledge she wanted. Dissecting the machines would be the easy part, as she could send them back to Horizon for analysis. Same with the liquid, as she already obtained a few sample flasks to study.

What she couldn't take with her, however, was the rituals themselves. That would require a more... immediate and delicate touch.

Slowly walking around, she immersed herself in the dark side energies that clung to the chamber. Reaching out, she started to look for the leftover strands of power that symbolized the Sith magic that had been used here. Every strand she would find, she follow it along, unwinding it from the rest and examining it, memorizing it, feeling the intent behind it. There had been a great many rituals done here, but that wasn't surprising as Vitiate had done the process numerous times during his reign.

Many of the strands were the same, the tattered leftovers of the ritual that he had used to hollow out part of their minds and feed them their power. Seeing the strands, she understood how it worked now, and why Eldaah was only a partial success. They had a connection, and Taeli could send her apprentice some power, but she couldn't possess her. This though... now she understood the extra steps needed. Soon... very soon... and she smiled as she left the chamber, a machine floating behind her.

Now... now she just needed to find that bloody puzzle box.
 
Location | Valley of Golg
Objective | Assault the Tomb of Garush
Company | TSA Infantry | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Drios Rapux"] | [member="Anora Demici"] | [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Morgan Vance"]





Vexen would continue his push forward through the Valley of Golg. The arrival of additional Sith, as well as support from Agents on the battlefield, was only increasing their advance to the Tomb of Garush. He would toss the corpse he was using as a body shield to the side, swiping his lightsaber in an arc as a blasterbolt came his way, deflecting it right into the chest of one of the entrenched enemies. His shoulders would shift backwards as stray bolts struck his pauldrons, being dispersed due to the odd surface grooves that dissipated the bolts and their force, continuing his advance as some enemies fled in terror at the massive tank of an Anzati bearing down on their positions.

A glowing gash would be inflicted upon the chest of an enemy soldier who had failed to flee and retreat further into the valley as Vexen's lightsaber viciously swung. The smoking wound would cause the soldier to collapse and land face first on his face, dead. Vexen would march his way on a raised rocky outcropping just above the head level of troops advancing into the valley, waving his lightsaber forward, his cape billowing behind him with its majestic, maroon brilliance. It was an almost romanticized scene of battle as his armored visage was pressing the attack forward.

The resistance in the valley was slowly dwindling and giving way to the Sith Empire's forces. Something seemed off, the lack of resistance was beginning to show as the conflict in the valley drew on. Vexen would arrive at the entrance to the tomb, slaying the last of the entrenched soldiers as he made his way into the tomb. His saber was disengaged as he felt a familiar dark presence in the tomb as he entered. He would arrive to find [member="Darth Carnifex"] making his way out. He would drop to one knee, an arm resting against it as he bowed his head, " My Lord... "
 

Vereshin

Guest
V
Location: The Tomb of Ludo Kressh
Objective: Investigate
Allies: [member="Vaylin"]

The shyrack swarm filled the chamber with deafening cries and brandished their fangs over the heads of the two Sith. As Vaylin quickly unleashed both of her lightsabers and drew the attention of the creatures towards her, Vereshin remained standing with his back planted against the wall. He held his palms against the air and waited for the exact moment to avoid harming his partner in his attack. A surge of electricity released from his fingertips and illuminated the roof chamber, stunning the creatures filling the air while leaving Vaylin untouched on the ground. The shyracks cried in pain and fell onto the stone as Vereshin strode forward and sent another wave of lightning through the creatures, leaving them lifeless before the stone door.

Vereshin caught his breath and brushed down the front of his clothes, before moving towards the door. He placed a hand against the stone and held the crystal around his neck against the hieroglyphs to read them. The door was made impenetrable with magic, making a phase through impossible. Standing backwards, the sorcerer placed a finger to his mouth in contemplation and greatly wished for his notebook.

"The door is closed with magic, forbidding heretics and enemies of Ludo Kressh from entering." He explained to Vaylin while musing on a way to bypass the spell. Neither Vaylin or himself possessed any great loyalty to Kressh's rivals from the golden age, making him wonder if the spell was more complicated than the hieroglyphs suggested. Vereshin took a step backwards and extended his wrist, focusing his energy into the stone. After a moment of thought, he uttered an incantation beneath his breath, one designed by Ludo Kressh himself which Vereshin memorized from pages of spellbooks. Syllables rolled off his tongue as the runes in the stone began to glow.

A grind of stone moved through the crevices and Vereshin's spell grew louder. He extended the incantation with phrases praising the old gods and the doctrine of Ludo Kressh, bypassing the spell imbued in the stone. The door surged away from the space, leaving an ajar shadow for Vereshin and Vaylin to pass through. The sorcerer rested his hand and took the first step into the next chamber, waiting by the door for Vaylin to follow.
 
Beset on all sides by the blockade now, Lord Depravious had punched his first hole in the blockade and his ship was now dead center inbetween the rest of the destroyers that formed the blockade. The enemy fleet commander scrambled to regain lost ground, and began fire on the Corvettes that now zipped around the other destroyers on the Port and Starboard sides of the 'Pandryl Kaes'. The hum of turbo lasers rang off through the depth of space and occasionally hit their targets smashing into shielding and steel burning away all that it touched.

"Release the rest of our fighter squadrons and begin running anti-air operations on their fighter squadrons, our flagship will not take any further damage."

Ready for the command the commandant of the battle group unleashed the rest of the fighters available in the fleet, and immediately they began to engage the enemy fighters chasing them down and destroying them under the protocol of the Sith Lord.

One by one the destroyers began to fall as the Sith Lords battle group pounded the defenses over Elom, the Corvettes proved to be too much once they had the opening to flank the other destroyers and began to pick the blockade apart via flanking them. Ion Cannons drilled into the shielding of the destroyers flanking the flagship of the Battle group.

"Have the Frigates begin charging their H.A.R.P.E.R.S canons - we have the time for them to cease fire for a moment to charge the destructive power of those. We will be wiping up this blockade soon Comandant, but no celebrations just yet."
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
As Morgan kept the fire off of Dante to allow her to work he suddenly saw the brilliant shine of starships filling the sky of Korriban.

Sleek, sharp in angles, they descended down and deposited much needed reinforcements. This was the difference between those fighting for the Magister and them fighting for the Empire: whereas the entrenched rebels only had each other, they had the full force of the Sith Empire behind their back and pushing forward.

He took out another trooper, before Morgan heard the low rumble and static sizzle of an EMP going off.

The wave brushed past him and for a brief moment he blinked. Everything grew dark for a single moment, the focus in his eyes leaving him, joints locking him in place and even his jaw shut itself tight.

Pressure rose.

Morgan couldn't move for a moment- enough for one of the troopers still alive to rush in and get a shot out. It took him in the shoulder and he whirled around his axis by the force. Before the rebel could finish Morgan off, he suddenly collapsed and the calm voice of Overwatch filtered through. The agent grunted and pushed himself up again.

Pain laced through his body, but more messages were filtering through now.

The Magister had fled, the Valley was theirs and all the remaining resistance was being wiped away. Morgan cursed as he tried to move his arm, wasn't a good idea.

:: Outpost Command, going to need an extraction point here. Coordinates incoming. ::

Then Morgan settled down, leaning against the cavern wall to wait. For Dante, for the extraction, for some gorram rest from all of this.

[member="Anora Demici"] | [member="Dante Sotari"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]
 
Location: Excavation site
Objective: Open the sealed chamber.
3/20??? I lost count

Mythos let the medics take care of the hound and begin setting the pup in the ship while he went back to work after a nice workout. His Tuk'ata hound was with him by his side on every step of the way guarding his master like stalwart bastion of darkside primal fury. No specimen in the galaxy could match that of Groom. He was massive, powerful, intelligent and could even use the power of the dark side of the force to some extent. Groom howld in dominance letting members of other Tuk'ata packs know this territory was claimed by him as the Alpha.

"Sorry for the delay, the wildlife was acting up" Mythod said to Lee, the Captain of tbe Jar'Kai. "Well Animus at least you got that pelt you have been harrassing me for, for weeks now" Lee said while reading the sonar and compiling the data into their mainframe. Mythos also laughed, knowing Lee spoke the truth.

Suddenly... Mythos dropped to the floor twitching and spazing out... Lee's eyes opened agape as he had never had them before and began screaming for the medics while dropping to him and figuring out what was wrong. Mythos' veins appeared to be black and thick, Lee thought it might have been an injury from the Tuk'ata fight yet no visoble injury was present and there was no blood leaking from any where. The medics dashed over as fast as they could but as they ran they too began collapsing...

One by one all the workers jn the dig site began to fall one by one.... all except Groom to the Tuk'ata who just stood next to his Masters body and stared blankly at the stone carved door before them...


Mythos began to stand up, he tried to get to his feet but it was as if a thousand ships crashed upon him, he used the power of telekinesis just to stand up against the invisible onslaught that was being unleshed upon him. Slowly and with incredible effort that took everything he had he made his way to his feet and screamed... he screamed like his vochal chords did not matter... a scream that [member="Serena Bouie"] could hear...

The force repulse was sgrong but it freed him from the phantom grasp upon his body. Everyone was in the floor... in a force induced coma while Mythos climbed down to the door and noticed the incantations upon its soul...

Mythos now began reciting the words upon the gate....
 
Location: Korriban, on a ship sorting through archives
[member="Mythos"]
Post 1 /

Serena pushed another disc into the reader a soft blue light activated the map of Korriban lay before her. She looked at where they had discovered the Tomb of Adas and then her blue eyes tracked over the map to where they were digging now. In the other room a blonde haired girl played quietly her eyes intent upon the game only when she felt eyes upon her did she look up and smile.

Serena nodded and the girl went back to what she was doing. Serena pulled another data pad to her looking at the information from the archives trying to put together another puzzle. Animus was on the dig site it was like old times when they were searching for something. Korriban held dark secrets and it took time and patience.

She hoped that it was nothing like when they found Adas' tomb that..had long term consequences. Serena felt that pull of the darkness she pushed it away she wasn't in the mood for it.

As she pushed it away something vibrated through it, she stood up quickly. She felt it into the very core of her being. Animus she whispered, "STAY HERE" She yelled as she ran out of the ship towards the dig site. Sand was already swirling in small dust bowls, as sand devils appeared every where.

Oh...something was going on, she rounded the corner and headed into the site. "Animus!" She called out, she moved the sight of everyone on the floor froze her to her spot, what was this?

Whispers, words...she could hear them...where was he.....
 
Valley of Golg,
Korriban.

They battled together, Venthis joining forces alongside the Sith Knight Drios Rapux and his men. They would slaughter the opponents in the dozens before Venthis responded. "I don't see another way in, only the front entrance." He stated, glancing over at it for a moment before slicing another oncoming opponents throat with his blade, spinning to avoid his corpse as it fell. "We will need to breach their front lines. We need to push forwards." He shouted out, blood splattered across his face and even across his teeth in some places.

For a moment it would seem as if an earthquake had begun though, in the distance the oncoming threat would seemingly stop and run away for a moment or at least the ones who were in the path of the war beast, Venthis had brought along with him from the surrounding swamps of his home, Haraak. The creature would appear to be a giant snake, one with chains and various pieces of metal strapped across it. It was a Resnekar, and a tamed one at that. It slithered across the battlefield, snapping its fangs at various soldiers as it came towards Venthis, eyeing him for a moment in confusion before recognizing him as he raised his hand in the air and pointed at the entrance of the temple.

As he did the creature darted towards the entrance and began to devour the enemies who stood guard. Until it would be struck with an elongated spear directly into its side. A loud screech emitted from its mouth. Before it would seemingly dart away as fast as it could. "Useless thing." Venthis would state in annoyance. "Onwards!" He shouted, following.

[member="Drios Rapux"]
 
Location: inside the ancient chamber
Objective: survive
5/20

This day Mythos would give the sith empire a gift that would last a thousand years if he survived this trial. Words of foul incantations and sith rituals of old spwed from his lips abd the stone slab that served as a door began to rumble and crack, with each word begining to crumble and fall while waves of powerful dark magic crashed against Mythos' body making each moment standing almost impossible to endure... yet he did.

He screamed, ushering forth the full might of his power to finish the spell and the door crumbled as a heap of dried leaved before the Lord of the Sith who stood before it. The onslaugh continiued, waves of darkness and oppresive energy now intensified and brought Mythos to his knees, it was breaking him down, crushing him like a a massive boulder but it would not break the unbreakable spirit of Mythos. He used his anger, his hatred for the Galactic Alliance, the thirst for vengence for the death of his planet and most importantly.... his desire to meet [member="Darth Ophidia"] and defeat her....

That burning hatred, that fury and anger brought him back to his feet. No longer would the chains of honor and justice and good tie him down to only a fraction of his potential... Mythos had become a Sith, a true Sith after his death in the storm...

"I am the Storm!" He screamed, unleashing his full might and power into the chamber and beating back the
Opresive force from within the chamber.

Mythos crushed it. Using every ounce of his strength, an effort that caused ripples in the force that could be felt around the planet as a disturbance in the force.

Mythos was stronger now than he had ever been before both phisically and in the force.

The force inside the tomb was subdued and Mythos now stood tall end defiant before the gate of the chamber. With one motion Mythos ripped off his leather jacket revealing the carvings upon all his body of Sith Runes to keep the power of his essence trapped inside of his body.

The runes carved were magic, they burned constatly and Mythos embraced the pain they caused him... they fueled his hate. His body was well toned and muscular, no longer the nimble and agile build he was before now his muscles were large and defined as well as he himself being much more heavy and strong...

He kept the custom after being severed from the force by [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] in the battle of Lujo.

The Mythos Thurion met died.... the honor and goodness inherent in his character was built on an intolerance to torture and a disgust to dishonor and lack of loyalty. When his people died in Atrisia Mythos gave his life to try and save them but they refused to surrender after his death and the Alliance refused to back down... Everything that could have redeemed Mythos died in Atrisia.

Some would say it was Mythos' hatred for the Galactic Alliance that gave him the will not only to survive the realm of chaos but rule it, challenging the rules of even Marka and The Beholder. What existed now was a being hateful and filled with spite and anger that had only one goal, one purpouse.... one single minded Mission that would see him return to Chaos.

DESTROY THE GALACTIC ALLAINCE

None dared... The first order was weak in his eyes and they would not last the coming years...

[member="Darth Carnifex"] was now the Dark Lord but he took the Sith Empire to war with the Silver Jedi. That was not Mythos' calling, his sole purpouse was to destroy the Galactic Alliance. That was the reason he existed... it was the purpouse for his ressurection.


Should Kaine bring war to the Alliance only then would Mythos gladly bend the knee to him... after he saw [member="Darth Ophidia"] again...

Mythos sought to challenge his old master. If he was victorious he would kill her and take his place as master making her proud one last time... if she came out victorious Mythos would pledge himself to her as her apprentice once more untill the time came when he could try again. [member="Darth Prazutis"] himself would also see Mythos one day and they both would battle.... it could end with them becoming brothers like the old days of the One Sith or with one of them dead and the other victorious.

Mythos was highly confident he could defeat him and his assumption did not come from arrogance.... Mythos simply thought he would be the better warrior... he could be wrong.

Mythos let the sand wind beat upon his chest and exhaled a powerful breath, readying himself for what was to come when he sensed something.... he sensed something approaching from the distant desert... a familiar force signature and something oh so nostalgic.

He paused... gleaming eyes into the Horizon as he saw blonde hair. His eyes narrowed, she came into veiw more and more clearly and Mythos began to levitate and use Force Flight to hover his way where [member="Serena Bouie"], his wife, came to this digsite and somehow she had found him...

He hovered above her and looked down, gently floating from the sky to the sand below one meter from her face. Did she know he was alive? Did she mourn him? Did she miss him?...

Did it matter?

Mythos stood before his wife emotionless in his expression, arms crossed over his chest and his yellow gleaming orbs digging into blue yes.... around him the darkside of the force was so thick and oppresive she would feel it in her very bones. He spoke to her... but his lips did not move... he spoke through the Dark side of the Force in Sith Tounge, a language he knew she would understand.

"What brings you to me Serena, Widow of the Storm... Mother of the chosen?"
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom