Star Wars New Sith Trials I *Voted Best RPG Summer 2016*

The Lorekeeper
Fortress in the Valley of Golg

He remained standing near the fortress, the location relatively safe from the chaos that unfolded before his very eyes, and it was ideal to study both the Gorog and the sorceress as they did battle. As Re'van engaged the massive creature his mouth was agape, the wonder of the powers she displayed was beyond his ability....for now.

Even the gem glowed with great interest at the prowess of the sorceress, not in many centuries had it witnessed such power. The Lorekeeper was wise to make an ally of this one, though he would advise the librarian to be careful to not betray her, the power of the gem would not be able to protect him against her vengeance should she seek it.
As the battle moved across the landscape the aged scholar moved around attempting to gain a better view, his mind absorbed everything for the sake of future recording. Few in history could claim to be witness to such an event, and he meant to make the most of it.

Finally as the dust had settled and the Gorog had fallen to it's ultimate demise The Lorekeeper ventured forth from the relatively protected perch near the citadel, his excitement barely contained as he attempted to get the attention of the sorceress Re'van.

Sinrebirth Lady Belligerent HunterPrime

 

IC: Re'van
Fortress of Golg

Re'van's eyes burned as she made her way back towards the fortress. Her hair flowed behind her, as she allowed her bike to coast, running silent. She had seen a ship land, moments before what was left of the ceiling had collapsed. She had not seen anyone else sense then. So she silently rolled, as scanned the area around the now various entrances, looking for signs of either life, or a body within. Surely the Golden Goddess, and boy toy had not been able to leave? As she drew closer, hidding her bike within the rocks once more, she suddenly saw movement. A slight grin covered her face for a moment, and then slipped away. Wait, the Lorekeeper should have been behind the others. So, if he is out here, where are they?

Re'van leaped from her bike, and landed, closing the distance between herself and the Lorekeeper quickly. Her face was damp from sweat, and her armor showed some signs of needing repair, even as she quickly scanned the Lorekeeper. After a few moments, she spoke. "I am glad to see that you are intact, and still with us, Lorekeeper." Re'van nodded her head slowly. "But, what has happened to the others? They should have exited before you." she asked him. Kalara was staying very quiet for the moment. Probably a good thing. Re'van was in no mood, she was already vexed at current events. Re'van scanned the area near them, using the Darkside to scan for any impending dangers trying to approach them, before she spoke once more to the Lorekeeper. "If Graush is indeed coming, we need to find the others, quickly. Alive or dead." Re'van looked at the Lorekeeper, scowling. "I think our original mission was poorly thought out, and possibly unatainable, unless something happens that changes the odds in our favor and soon." Re'van snorted. "We shall see." She then offered a dark grin. "Are you ready?" she asked him, this time drawing her sabers, but not igniting them.


TAG: Mikaboshi, Lady Belligerent, Sinrebirth

 

IC: Darth Kwea Acantha (combo post with Darth_wanderguard)

Kwea watched as her Master lit the torches with a flick of his hand. The stairs had ended and now they stood at the beginning of another long corridor. There was still a thickness to the air and although the space was more reasonable than the stairs, it was still a tight fit for the four of them. Even with the torches, the corridor was still dark and shadows filled all the corners where the light did not reach. Or dare to go. Either way, there was a stench that could only be coming from the mold growing in those dark spaces. Exiting the corridor, the group entered a room. Kwea sighed with relief. Finally there was some room to move around more freely. Looking around, Kwea observed the weapons hanging on the walls. Small, large, crude, beautiful. They all were weapons of a red Sith. She stopped wandering when she looked over her shoulder at the others. Moving to join them, she saw what they were staring at. Ahead of them stood four coffins. They were closed but the ornateness of the stone carving drew Kwea in. On the tops, they had family crests. Looking at the first three, she didn't recognize the crests but when her eyes came to rest on the last one, she was startled. It was the crest of Onederon. This was the crest of her birth family. She had been the niece of the king of Onederon. The daughter of his sister. Reaching into a concealed pocket of her tunic, she fingered the chain that was attached to a ruby diadem. The one thing she had that she wouldn't let go of. Sure she had hated how her family had treated her but this was a sign of her heritage. Proof of her noble standing. Kwea had worn this diadem when she was taken by the Jedi and she had made sure they never took it. With drawing her hand from the pocket she continued to stare at the coffin. Out of the corner of her eye, Kwea saw her Master draw his sword and suddenly, her mind was hit with a loud voice.

DIE... JOIN ME IN DEATH...

Clutching her head that was pounding, Kwea looked in terror at the others. It was obvious there were affected. Then, the tops of the coffins turned to dust and four things rose from the coffins. She saw her Master, Octavious, Arach, and herself. Herself! Her lips were bloodied and cracked. Her hands were bony and white. Her eyes that were a dark brown were pure black and if you stared at them too long, they became like holes. Her face was a terrifying grimace. A warblade flew by her head and landed in her undead self's hand. Leaping down onto Kwea, the undead one screamed in her head.

TOO YOUNG, TOO STUPID. POOR LITTLE UNLOVED WRETCH.

It stabbed at her again and again. Tears started falling form Kwea's eyes as her head burned and thudded with the impact of the yells.

"No! No!" she cried. She commanded her weak arms to grab her lightsaber and raised it to strike the creature. Her body began to cry in pain from the pounding and stabbing of her undead doppleganger. Her swipes did nothing except make the creature laugh which hurt Kwea's head more. Now she knew why her Master had said there would be no hope and no escape.




Stab after stab pierced her body as the lifeless, soulless beast advanced relentlessly. With each thrust, pain would shoot through her like electricity, but no wounds were left behind. It fed on her self-doubt, as the voice from before assaulted her senses once again, and it became more solid and more physical by the moment.

WORTHLESS EMBARASSMENT. YOU DISGRACE YOUR NAME AND FAMILY.

At last her fear made the creature into something more real, and a wild swing of the warblade struck her shoulder. A glancing blow, but her robes would be rent at the uppermost of her arm, and her flesh was torn with it, leaving a red stain growing down her sleeve. A real wound.

The creature reared back again to slash at her, now fully corporeal, ready to finish it.


Kwea cried out in pain. Her upperarm's skin was ripped away and her black sleeve became soaked with blood. Suddenly, she was filled with unmeasurable anger. She had been hurt in battle before but the fact that this was a dark ghost of herself pushed her to the limit. This entity that was messing with her mind was done for. Her fear still clouded her mind but with the cloud came another. One that filled her vision with a red haze. She began to counter the blows with quick parrys of her lightsaber. She slashed and swiped at her undead self. Kwea's lightsaber found it's mark and sliced through the warblade. At least that's what Kwea thought. The creature roared in her mind, WORTHLESS WRETCH. YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME. I AM IN YOUR MIND. I'VE TAKEN OVER. YOU ARE MINE. She wondered if she needed to conquer the entity in her mind before she could conquer it physically. So she did something the Sith were taught not to do from the beginning. She sat down and deactivated her lightsaber. She closed her eyes and she sunk into her own mind. Then she met with one of the most dangerous things of all. Her mind.

The pain in Kwea Acantha's shoulder would pale in comparison to the mental anguish which would wash over her as she settled into meditation. Her copy was no longer a physical threat, as it could no more than mirror the force she exerted in struggling against it - but now it delved into vulnerabilities far beyond the physical. Fear would envelop her completely, formless and abstract at first. But a voice would cut through the noise.

"Allow your fears to take shape," her master's voice would be heard with biting clarity. "Focus. Embrace them. Understand them," his short, terse instructions echoed. "Know what you fear, that you may overcome it."

Kwea heard her Master's words in the back of her mind. She put up a mental barrier that was immediately broken by the creature. She pushed against it invading her mind. Her mind was on fire. Her body was shaking violently and she was sweating. Kwea twisted the creature and pinned it down in a corner. She looked into its mind and asked why it was so hateful. She looked into her own mind knowing she wouldn't receive an answer. She saw into herself. Kwea saw that her fear was from hate. She hated her family for not wanting her, she hated the Jedi for turning on her, she hated herself for failing her family and the Jedi. Now she had to take that fear and hate and turn it onto the creature in her mind. So Kwea did just that. She balled it all up. All the fear of not being accepted, the fear of not succeeding, the hate of the people in her past, the hate of herself. She took that ball and hurled it at the creature. She felt a burning pain in her head. Suddenly she was alone in her mind. The creature was gone. Kwea opened her eyes and found herself laying on the floor, sweaty and tired. She looked around and saw that her coffin was sealed as it had been when the group had arrived. Standing up, Kwea brushed off her clothes and almost collapsed. Her mind was still swirling with flashes of the creature. The memories of that pain were still racking her body.

TAG: Anedon, Moonspun Dragon, Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Darth Octavius (combo post with Darth_wanderguard)
Octavius was blinded for a moment when his master used a gesture of his hand to bring the torches at both sides of the wall to life. For a moment he was curious how his master managed that. But he decided to ask this question later. The four Sith stood in a corridor, at the end of the stairs that led them into the darkness. The corridor was a bit wider than the staircase but Octavius didn´t feel that this was an improvement of their situation. He felt the darkness that surrounded him on all sides. The dark side was strong here and Octavius could sense the hatred of the Sith that were buried here. But then he calmed himself down. The dead weren´t a threat. Every danger came from the living he knew, the dead were peaceful. So he stared in the corridor lying before them, the ancient Sith had often guarded their crypts with traps. The group moved forward while Octavius fought against the impulse to turn around every second. He had the feeling that something was behind them, but it was probably just his paranoia.

They entered a hall which contained four coffins of ancient Sith. Octavius asked himself who these people might have been when they were alive. Had the Jedi killed them? Or were they killed during internal conflicts? Then he heard something, it was like a whisper and he couldn´t understand the words but it scared him. “On your guard,” Lord Haretisch ordered and Octavius activated his light saber.

DIE… JOIN ME IN DEATH…

Octavius felt how a wave of ancient anger filled the room and closed his mind against every influence outside of his. But his barrier wasn´t strong enough and he could feel how the hatred that had been here for thousands of years overcame them. Then when it began to end Octavius had to correct his thoughts about the dead. The coffins burst and something raised from them. “Force protect us,” he muttered when he realized what had emerged from the graves. Four humans with pale skin and black eyes had surrounded them. One of them resembled his master, another Kwea and one Arach. But the one that looked at Octavius, with its dead black eyes, had the same aristocratic face and the same short dark hair as him. In the dead Octavius hand he saw a long pole arm with a short blade at the end. A deadly weapon. “Force protect us.” He muttered again, unable to lift his eyes from his dead opponent.

WEAK FOOL. THE FORCE ABANDONS YOU!

Was this the voice of his father? No it was his own. But he sounded like his father, like the abusive teacher he had been. Octavius shivered and barely managed to dodge under the first attack. What by the pillars of the universe was happening here? Terrified he made a few steps backwards fighting to keep control over his limbs. He lifted his light saber to protect himself, but he knew it wouldn´t be enough. He was too weak. He had always been.

A shower of sparks erupted around Octavius as his copy came down on him with another brutally powerful swing of its polearm, blocked by his lightsaber.

You are not strong enough. The Jedi couldn't make you powerful, nor can the Sith.

The apparition advanced, still swinging away at him with its long-handled weapon.

You are nothing. You will always be nothing. Haretisch knows this. He has brought you here to die. He has you babysit a child because you are capable of nothing else. Now die. Stay in this tomb, lie in your stone casket, and die.

Octavius jumped back to get outside of the reach of his opponent, while its words reached Octavius mind. He shivered, the dead Octavius was right he realized. Haretisch had sent him to take care of a child while he went to the lower valley, and even at this task he had failed. He had nearly been killed in a library, what could he hope to achieve against real opponents?

He felt how he became weaker; his light saber became heavier to lift, while the attacks of the dead Octavius seemingly became stronger. Terrified he started a series of attacks against his opponent but they were weak and unfocused. He felt like a child in the Jedi temple when he realized that he never would reach the skills of the others. He had failed as a son, he had failed as a Jedi, he had failed as a politician and he would fail as a Sith. Maybe it was better for him to just die here. Die and fall down next to the corpses of the ancient Sith, next to the corpses of his master and Kwea.

Then his will started to fight back. It was just a whispered voice inside his head, but it was enough for him to gain enough strength to raise his light saber again. He didn´t want to die here, but if he had to he would at least die fighting.

STRIKE.

A hoarse voice would scream in his mind as his opposite approached again, dead black eyes focused upon him. It fed on his strength, and the voice assaulting his senses would urge him to meet force with force.

FIGHT, WEAKLING.

His doppelgänger was within striking distance now. There would be a nearly irresistible urge to lash out, but if he did the creature would only grow in power. It could only mirror his own exertion. Still he would be gripped by fear, by instinct to attack.

"Do not feed it," he would hear Haretisch's voice as clearly as a bell. "Control, Octavius. You must have control."

Octavius heared the voice of his master while he was about to attack his opponent again. He used all of his hatred against the dead Octavius but that only seemed to make his opponent stronger. It was like his dead counterpart has mocking his ideal of searching for perfection, by constantly becoming stronger. That frustrated Octavius. And his frustration strengthened his anger. But the voice if his master reached through the hatred in his head and his thoughts became more clear. He realized that the dead Octavius was using his own hatred to strengthen himself. He began to use the technique the Jedi had taught him to control his emotions. Instead of using his rage to power his attacks he focused them seeking strength in concentration instead of rage. While fighting against the dead Octavius he tried to find a weakness in his fighting style, knowing that he would find a weakness. A weakness he could use to kill his opponent. He waited for the next attack, than he dodged under the polearm and drove his lightsaber into his foes direction, hoping to cut off the hands of his enemy.

With a howl from the beast, shriveled hands were severed and the polearm clattered to the floor. Dead Octavius vanished, no more than a memory, overcome by a focused will, weakened unto nothingness by the calm Octavius had found.

Across the room, the casket from which it had climbed was intact and sealed once again.

Octavius looked at the coffin before him and couldn´t believe what he saw there. "Sith sorcery," he muttered. He asked himself if these visions were the work of the dark presence they were searching, or an ancient defense system the old Sith had created. Whatever it was, it was powerful. Octavius felt ashamed for a moment, for not having seen through these tricks. He decided he would read in the libary about the traps in the crypts of the old Sith.

He touched the coffin for a moment, just to make sure it was truly sealed this time. Then he turned to the others. He saw Kwea on the floor and for a moment he feared that his fellow apprentice was wounded, he made a few steps into her direction, but she stood up before Octavius reached her. Lady Arach also had survived the attack. Octavius deactivated his lightsaber and turned to his master. I´m not sure if I want to see what awaits us deeper inside.

TAG: Halle Dray, Moonspun Dragon, Darth_wanderguard

 

Darth Hades
Moraband, Academy, North Hangar

'Excellent. Welcome, Lord Hades. I have chambers for you prepared, and a slave will be there for you as well. A personal gift.'​

​

Hades nodded in appreciation. Thank You, My Lord. I accept.​

​

'Come, I shall personally show you the way, and perhaps you can regale me of what you have learned from studying the wider view. A peer of mine, Darth Caedus, believed in such things, and Darth Traya, the headmistress Holocron of the library, in the absence of Lorekeepers, often speaks of it.'​

​

Then he addressed the Hangar absently. 'If you have time to watch two Lords discuss matters, then you are expendable.'​

​

'Get on.'

Hades did as he was bid. He truly felt that this was where he was meant to be. He took a breath and began to speak.

I have thought, for a long time, the Sith have focused on the wrong kinds of power. Darth Bane, when he made the Rule of Two, it was to focus on the Darkside of the Force, until the time that they were strong enough to dominate our enemies. As time advanced, the view of what power means inevitably became about political power. I have dedicated myself to finding the greatest way to power and strength in the Force.​

​

​

Hades stopped and seemed thoughtful for a moment. He was familiar with Caedus, who, by all accounts, had been a failure, but Traya was not a familiar name.

I do realize that having an Empire makes dominion over all much easier, but my path was more personal. I was wrong in how I sought power. I have grown weaker. It is time I follow one with power and vision for the Sith and truly dedicate myself to it.​

​

​

Hades grew quiet as he waited for Insipid to respond. ​

​

TAG: Sinrebirth​

 

GM UPDATE


IC: Darth Kralkus -- Ruins below Sadow'een, Hoth

A sharp, loud thwack rang out through the room as Tek's rounds detonated, knocking out the first set of turrets. In the chaos, a tiny green fist shuddered and then clenched, claws scraping against the metal floor as fingers curled inward. Darth Kralkus looked up, blinking as the fog and cobwebs cleared from his head. "Burst all of our ears you will!" he barked at Tek, who had made the possibly questionable decision to use explosives in a small metal room.

Kralkus was sprawled on his stomach, having experienced a nasty collision with the door after his barrier gave way in a shockwave of telekinetic energy. Blaster bolts were still flying from the remaining set of turrets which had descended from the ceiling, and Esmerelda was still working furiously as Zalen shielded her with a force barrier similar to the one Kralkus had thrown up before. Kronos, meanwhile, was holding his own off to the side, deftly deflecting blaster bolts with his lightsaber. Only Tek had taken an aggressive approach to neutralizing the turrets.

Recognizing that Zalen's barrier wouldn't last forever even with half of the turrets destroyed, Kralkus jumped to his feet, wincing from the pain in his back and neck. Launching himself forward, he sailed in midair through a hailstorm of blaster-fire, his robes scorched in two or three places by glancing shots on his way in, and latched onto the closest ceiling turret with his hands.

The turret's targeting systems went awry immediately as it attempted to get a lock on its tiny target but always found him just out of its reach as he spun and bobbled, dangling precariously beneath. Finally it began to spin furiously, swinging Kralkus about like a fan blade before the fixture gave way, sending Kralkus flying once again, with the remains of the turret still clenched in his hands and sparking wires trailing behind.

He landed gracefully this time, on both feet, and immediately cast the destroyed machinery aside before extending a hand and releasing a burst of force lightning towards the three remaining turrets. It found its mark, electricity arcing between each and halting the rain of bolts as the turrets sizzled furiously against the assault. When his attack abated, they hung intact but smoking - effectively destroyed.

Kralkus huffed, and stretched his sore neck as the scene calmed. There was only one direction to go now, with their entrance snowed in. He looked to Esmerelda. "Are you-"

"Done!" she beamed, standing up as the doors slid open. She suppressed a squeal of excitement and an urge to bounce, and began packing her slicer and books and other trinkets back into a satchel slung around her shoulder and side.

"Done well you have, Esmerelda," Kralkus acknowledged, shuffling toward the open doorway. Beyond it was another corridor which twisted in a spiral of ramps at right angles, a long descending hallway which would take them deeper into the ruins with every step. Kralkus moved more slowly now for the pain in his neck and back - not as young as he once was.

At length the turning, descending hallway reached its end in a spacious, circular room. What appeared to be a series of pods sat equilaterally from a center column. Most were empty.

One was not.



Kralkus grunted as he studied the pods, wiping the icy condensation from one to peer through the transparisteel shell. Inside lay a young human female. Mid-late 20s, possibly. Fair of skin and red of hair.

On the far side of the pod sat a conspicuous red button with an indecipherable marking - a button which had been silently calling out to one Darth Kronos, and all of his more curious impulses, since the group had entered the room.

The button caused Kronos to forget anyone else was with him. It called to him. And he needed to find out why. Needed it. He would only get closer to the pod. Kronos didn't even care about the consequences. Yet... there was some part of him that fought. Some part of him that resisted, even if it were small. Whatever this was, it was powerful. Very powerful. And, for some reason, it wanted Darth Kronos. He was now extremely close to it, ready to find out its secrets. The red button almost forced him to push it. The back part of Kronos' mind knew not to do this, but it was like he couldn't access this part of his brain. It was shut off. Temporarily. Then, Kronos pushed it. And he had no idea what it would even do.

With a click, a seam appeared along the front of the pod, and Kralkus looked accusingly to Kronos as the top half of it swung abruptly upward on a hinge. A white mist poured from the enclosure as the warm atmosphere within equalized with the frigid air of the room, obscuring the figure within, who would wake suddenly with a start, her memories hazy at best. One thing would occur to Xia Cass amidst the confusion, however. She had finally found the Sith.

In a familiar refrain, alarm bells began to howl as exits slammed shut, sealing the team within.

Along the walls, three large panels slid upward.




Two A-class assassin droids now held in their sights the likes of Darth Kronos, and Zalen. And a third droid stood beside them.

The A-class were bipedal and cleverly armed. Each brandished a red-bladed lightsaber and featured an offhand outfitted with an electrical arc generator and miniature tractor beam - a collection of implements which allowed the droids to do a convincing imitation of both force lightning and some rudimentary telekinesis.

"A bad feeling about this, I have," Kralkus sighed, and activated his saberstaff.

The third droid, which resembled an ancient but oddly more advanced variant of the traditional battle droid, scurried forth on four skittering legs before activating a personal shield generator. It leveled its twin rapid-fire blasters at two targets in particular, and unleashed. Borek Tek and Esmerelda would be reduced to smoking, hole-filled corpses if they didn't take cover quickly.

TAG: Sinrebirth, Ktala, QueenSabe7

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IC: AC-88

Intruder detected. Initializing threat neutralization systems. Target acquired: human female, height 1.651 meters. Likely communication interface: galactic basic. Initializing linguistic module.

"INTRUDER. YOU WILL BE ELIMINATED."

Initializing combat sequence. Command #0002: maintain medium range. Command #0018: force lightning, sustained burst. Power: 7/10.

TAG: Lady Belligerent



~



IC: Darth Haretisch -- Catacombs

Haretisch rolled a shoulder to shift an epaulet back into a more comfortable position, and exhaled, having vanquished his own doppelgänger with relative ease while his three comrades were locked in their own struggles. "We've not seen the worst yet," he reminded, chuckling at Arach's wisecracks. Each of them had been put to a terrifying first test, and passed with flying colors.

Then he shuddered. The entity had failed with simple mind games. Now, it would resort to attacks of a more... Direct nature. The Night Herald's mind was assaulted without warning, and though he threw up powerful mental barriers, they were torn in an instant like tissue paper.

"No..." Haretisch muttered. It was too late.

The malignant spirit now imbedded deep within the Night Herald's consciousness coaxed his deepest pains to the fore, and projected them into the minds of the others. His darkest memories would play out before them like a holofilm.

"Leave with me," she said, and the smile left his face.

"You... Said you would join me. As a Sith. That you were turning away from the Jedi," he replied, suddenly confused and angry.

"I have, but... But I can't join the Sith. I won't join the Sith," she explained. "Please, let's just leave. You're not like them. This isn't what you are," she pleaded, sensing his growing rage.

"You poor soul..." he lamented, as much to himself as to her memory.

"Liar!" he roared. His words were like electricity. "The Jedi sent you here to bring me back!"

"No!" she cried. "I don't care about the Jedi anymore. I renounced the order. Leave with me! You don't need the dark side. We don't need the force at all. I need you!"

"Get out," he half-commanded, half-pleaded.

Several meters behind him, the Dark Lord stood, watching with interest and amusement as the lovers quarreled. "Haretisch," he spoke up with a smirk, and his apprentice turned to look when he heard his master's voice. "Kill her."

She took a sudden step back when the man she knew as Plo turned back to cast his hateful eyes upon her. He glared at her for a moment before looking away and shutting his eyes.

"Get out!" he repeated.

"Do it, dog!" Vassago barked, causing Haretisch and the woman to flinch in tandem. "Choose power. Destroy her!"

Plo felt merely an observer as he lunged forward and grabbed her by the front of her robes. A snap-hiss. The smell of burning flesh. She slumped forward onto his chest, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she cried out. Her arms weakened and her legs failed. He released her robes from his grip, quickly wrapping his arm around her instead to keep her standing, and deactivating the lightsaber upon which she had been impaled.

Numbly, he turned and eased her to the ground. Then he saw her eyes fixed and empty. Behind him he heard Vassago's laughter, and all at once he was himself again - anger and sorrow swelled within him in equal parts and crashed like a tidal wave. He stood and drew his lightsaber again, blinded with fury, and charged at the Dark Lord ready to strike.

His eyes were wet with grief and anger and shame, now. A Dark Lord, silently weeping before his apprentices and underlings. Pathetic.

His left arm was gone before his stroke could fall, the appendage hitting the stony ground with a thud. Whatever momentum left of his charge was halted as the Dark Lord's gloved hand met his face, not in a strike, but a clutch. A brief, stiffening burst of force lightning surged from Vassago's palm and into his malcontented apprentice's skull, and once released he fell weakly to his knees. A forceful Rancor leather boot to the sternum sent him sprawling onto his back, his amputated arm lying beside him and still clutching his lightsaber, which hummed and quivered in his disembodied grip as the active blade sparked against the ground.

"You weak, pathetic fool..." the Dark Lord mused softly, turning to walk away from his fallen, now former apprentice. "Live with your shame, rodent."

The rage, the sadness, and the humiliation overcame him. The Foil of the Purebloods fell to the ground beside his left boot as he collapsed to his knees, throwing his head back to gaze at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. He clutched madly at his face and forehead with both hands, eyes wide and mouth agape as he released a thunderous yell of all-consuming despair, infused with the force such that it shook the catacombs in their entirety.

Then, the white-hot anguished lunacy which filled him to every corner erupted into the physical plane, and he lost any semblance of control over his own power. A lesser force storm enveloped the room - a swirling torrent of raw, chaotic force energy which would capture every loose particle, every stray pebble from the floor, every chunk of crumbled stone that had formed the statues and sarcophagi. It would even peel the ancient, imbedded dust from the very walls around them. All this would form a nigh-unstoppable vortex of destruction to the fleshy bodies of Arach, Octavius, and Kwea. And Haretisch stood in the relative safety and calm of its eye, in which the others would be forced to crowd if they intended to survive. He clutched his forehead still, bloodshot eyes bulging from his skull, his tortured screams never ending. This was something beyond hell.

He called for help. He begged for help. From ancient gods who didn't exist. From his fellow triumvirs who would not hear him. Even from the force itself. And finally, from his apprentices, and from Lady Arach. If they did not willingly share in the entity's psychic wrath, Haretisch would be driven irrevocably to madness, and they would all perish together.

A Dark Side Meld was their only chance of survival.

If they chose to share in it, each would be confronted with the memory of their worst experience. Each would relive their greatest trauma as though it were happening all over again, and each would see into the deepest traumas of the others save for Arach whose mind was shielded by the amulet. But by dividing the entity's power, and with some mental fortitude, they could all weather the storm as one.

TAG: Moonspun Dragon, Halle Dray, Anedon

 

Darth Rozic paced around the room. When suddenly a message from Emperor Insipid sounded. Rozic payed attention and felt honored to hear the great dark Lords voice.
I must do something to help the tide of this battle. Rozic thought. I must grab his attention.
Then Rozic responded with: 'Excuse me my lord I have a favour to ask of you. Will you please give me a mission here in the temple, I'll do anything please. I just want to be recognized as the loyal Sith follower that I am so please give me a job I don't care how dangerous. Thank you.'
Tags: Sinrebirth

 

GM approved Thrice.
Name: Wuulfwarg (Darth Ravenous)

Age: 100

Sex: Male

Species: Wookiee

Height: 2.25 Meters

Weight: 155 Kg

Occupation: Mercenary/Bounty Hunter

Physical Description: Dark Brown Fur with a scar over right eye from hunting attack while on Kashyyyk and has beaded braids on face area. Left arm was cut at wrist during a battle with Sith as his time with the Jedi, Crude, Self-made robotic hand with wooden inlays made from his home tree attached at wrist.

Clothing: Black, tattered Hakama with armored Uwa-Obi. Besides that, none. (Wookiee’s have natural clothing

Weapons: Dual simple Vibroblades secured to sides and a simple wooden inlayed blue lightsaber on Uwa-Obi(Kept from time with the Jedi)

Description of abilities: Natural warrior with melee weapons, good at trapping animals from being abandoned on Kashyyyk, able to pilot most ships single-handedly, not very good with diplomacy..

Bio: Born to a Warrior Clan on Kashyyyk but was stunted due to Slaving operations. Family was taken away at young age and left to fend for himself(hunting) due to being too young for slaving. A Jedi by the name of Nubia Ja’aern arrived around the time he was old enough to be taken, Diplomacy did not work when the Jedi tried to end the slaving operations, Czerka tries to take remaining Wookiees regardless of age and ability. Jedi ends up killing slavers and senses the Force within Wuulfwarg. The Jedi then takes him on as a Padawan. Fast forward many years; While on a mission, Ship had been shot by pirates forcing a crash landing on a barren planet. Provisions ran out early on and Wuulfwarg was forced to eat his master indulging in his Dark Side Tendencies. Miners later arrived on planet and Wuulfwarg killed and ate them as well and took off in their mining vessel. Since then he has grown a taste for eating flesh, traded in his stolen miner ship for a more practical bounty hunter/mercenary vessel and has been working for the Hutts for bodyguard and bounty hunting work unable to face the Jedi Council for his crimes. Spends a lot of time when not on contract in the Cantinas and Casinos gambling on Pazaak. Awaiting the chance when the Hutt’s grant him a contract to kill a Jedi with his betrayer saber.

Class: Warrior

Level: 6

Skills: +1 Force Rage (+1 from class ability)

+1 Force Choke

+1 Djem-So (+1 from class ability)

+1 Dark Side Meld

+1 Jar’Kai

+1 Force Jump

+1 Force Push/Pull

 

IC: Wuulfwarg
The last contract....
-On board Wuulfwarg's Bounty hunting ship, The Raven-

"Approaching last vector, boss." hissed Wuulfwarg's Hutt-assigned co-pilot. "Quit calling me boss you rookie, this contract is big enough for the two of us, which is the only reason I let you come with me on this run, don't mess this up or i'll make a nice pelt from your hide.." The Wookiee howled. Little did Sosca know, fodder was always better than a helping hand to Wuulfwarg.
The Wookiee made his way from the common area to the cockpit and slapped his bounty-partner in the back of the head. His bounty-partner, a Trandoshan named Sosca was greener than green. Wuulfwarg looked out on the planet the contract had been assigned to. Dusty red, like it was made of spice which the Wookiee had once had his hands in up to his pits. Smuggling, selling, it didn't matter, as long as it paid well. The Wookiee smiled at the thought of his past exploits...
Take her in the Wookiee gargled.
Once on the surface the Wookiee had a feeling he had not felt in a long time, not of pain or power, but of fear and hopelessness. Why such a long face? Sosca hissed jokingly. Let's move, we have a days hike and I'm starving, lucky for you, I hate the taste of snake...

-Cut to night on canyon top, cooking over fire-
After many hours of silence Sosca, annoyingly at this point, says
So, let's go over this contract again, who are we going to capture?
A Sith you idiot! Not just that, A Sith Lord. You know? The ones that take no prisoner's unless they want to torture you do death! The Wookiee trembled thinking of his own statement. The last time Wuulfwarg had a run in with a Sith Warrior was when he was a Padawan with Nubia Ja'aern, his Jedi Master, and that Sith took his arm, and probably his life if not for her. This planet, Moraband amplified any fear the young Wookiee thought he had quelched in his time as a Jedi, but this place was....different, unnerving and calm at the same time.
Wuulfwarg reached down for his saber, clasped to his Uwa-Obi, a reminder of the training of the Jedi and how weak and pathetic he once was. This saber however was no longer used as a Jedi tool. He has used it to complete a plethora of contracts under the Hutts. Usually you get double the credits for a live contract but what's the point when a lifeless subject is so much easier to transport?
Wuulfwarg turns to Sosca and throws him a dossier of their subject.
Study it, so I don't have to explain it to you again, you blockhead....
Sosca let out a hiss and began to re-read the dossier.

 

IC- Darth Arach
The Catacombs


Arach broke her gaze away from the sealed coffin and let out a deep sigh.

"We've not seen the worst yet," Haretisch remarked, chuckling at her earlier joke.

Feeling wryly sarcastic, Arach shot back, "You're just full of good cheer."

She started to stand, but only made it to one knee when the Dark Lord suddenly shuddered. Warning bells went off in her head. Arach froze and immediately threw up her mental defenses. What now?

Suddenly, she saw something being played out in front of her. It quickly became clear it was a memory. Judging from the spikes of pain radiating from Haretisch, it was his memory. It was a memory that was never to have been shared especially with two apprentices and a fledgling master.

The young assassin tried to block out what she was seeing for Haretisch's sake. She was almost successful until the Dark Lord's murderous act and the complete agony that accompanied it shattered the wall she had painstakingly built.

Arach saw the woman being stabbed and young Haretisch lower her body gently to the ground. She, the, saw him attack the man who had urged him to kill her. It didn't end well for Haretisch.

She was released from the vision as her warning bells sounded once again. She raised her mental defenses as a storm filled with the Dark Lord's rage, humiliation near lunacy raged in the catacombs coupled with his scream.

The young master used the Force to deflect most of the effects. She came up with an idea, knowing that she and the apprentices wouldn't last long without him.

The assassin ran to the Dark Lord, fell to her knees in front of him, grabbed one of his hands and pressed the pendant into his palm, hoping that whatever enchanted the stone to calm her mind would bring him back.

Her gaze snapped to the apprentices, feeling the entity trying to attack their minds. She felt the entity trying to a attack her as well, but it only felt like rain hitting a window. Dimly, she was curious. She called out to the apprentices while adding her strength to the Dark Lord in front of her. "Whoever knows how to do the Meld, you'd better do it fast!"

Tags: Darth_wanderguard, Anedon, Halle Dray

 

IC: Syren (Xia Cass)
The Darkness/Hoth Temple

This darkness was so vast and complete that Syren had no bearing on time or place. Is this death? She wondered often. Attempts to think or to formulate coherent thoughts failed and the young woman’s mind would sink back into the void. The only break in this never-ending blackness was a morose parade of images and voices belonging to beings that had left her life as quickly as they had entered; nameless targets whose lives she had taken, those who hired her to do so, companions with whom she would never allow herself to linger.

Then she would see her mother and father. Their loving faces appeared most often, slowly changing and morphing into the ravaged shells of anger she recalled most vividly.

Xia.
It was her father’s voice, gentle and warm, how it sounded before it was hideously changed by a power he would never be able to harness. He had called out her birth name. She did not want to hear it again. My sweetheart, his soft voice continued. It is time to wake up. She attempted to respond, to summon the words. Did she still have her mind and her body? She felt nothing…

WAKE. UP!

In an instant the darkness, the faces and voices all vanished and were replaced by a crush of sensations. Immediately she could feel her body; the beating of her heart, the breath in her lungs, the fabric of clothing on her skin, the rapidly chilling surface beneath her. Beneath her. Realizing she was lying down, her upper-half shot upright while her eyes flew open. Although her vision was slightly obscured by a dissipating soft mist that surrounded her, she could see her legs laid out before her in what was some type of cylindrical pod. What is this? How did I get here?

Rushes of confused and disorienting thoughts threatened to overwhelm her, but were stopped cold when she felt the particular rippling through the Force denoting the presence of others in her direct vicinity. Sharply turning her head around in the direction of the nearest source, a diminutive creature of an unfamiliar species stood before her. Size being a deception. She could feel his great strength in the Force, in the dark side. Her eyes locked on him in shock as she took notice of the darkness surrounding the others close by and realization set in. She had found them. She had finally found the Sith.

Blaring alarms suddenly went off and snapped Syren out of her momentary stupor. Finally looking about and taking in the space she was in, the rush and echoing thud of any exits could be heard sealing off. There was a prickling through the Force. Danger. A split second later, she drew her knees up and placed her feet. Pushing up with her legs and instinctively using the Force to augment her jump, she threw her body out and over the edge of her former prison and onto the floor outside. Landing on her feet, she took a quick step and spun around while grabbing for her lightsabers on either hip, briefly relieved they were even still on her person. As she ignited the dual crimson blades, a trio of hidden wall panels revealed themselves and their contents.

Syren had reacted defensively, thinking this mysterious group of strangers was her imminent threat. She was wrong. Droids unlike any she had laid eyes on before were the real danger, for now. The first 2 were towering and formidable in appearance, each wielding their very own lightsaber. Still close by, the smaller Sith spoke as he readied his own weapon, but his words did not reach her.

Eyeing the 3rd droid as it darted out from its perch to take aim at whoever its target was, she took a deep breath to center herself. She felt weak and thoroughly confused, but her adrenaline was beginning to take hold. She had many questions that needed answered, but that would all have to wait. Calling on the Force to ready herself for whatever may come next, she let a faint smile play on her lips.

Looks like I’m just in time for the party.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Lady Belligerent Darth Kronos Ktala Sinrebirth

 

IC: Darth Octavius
"Whoever knows how to do the Meld, you´d better do it fast!" Lady Arach shouted at them, while she was kneeling over Haretisch, Octavius heard her words but for a moment he didn´t realized them. Just a few seconds ago they had fought off the visions of their dead selves but this was something different. He could feel the pain of his master and he could sense the Vision Darth Haretisch was experiencing. Nothing was attacking him, at least not directly at the moment, but Octavius felt that he had to do something or he would die here. A force meld. Despite being not very strong in the force, Octavius had shown a certain skill in this rare technique. But he knew that won´t be enough, the skill was very difficult and the consequences of a failure where deadly for all participators. And now his master need this skill and Octavius was the only one who knew it. He had used it before but only during training in the Jedi temple, in a safe surrounding, with other jedi he knew, and not with two sith he barely knew and a complete stranger. "I can do it." he said to Lady Arach, while his thoughts fought about what to do. He felt Haretischs pain and decided to risk it. He closed his eyes and opened his mind. He could feel the pain of his master and he could feel Kwea, but nothing of Arach. It confused him but he concentrated on the meld.

"He is weak! He will never learn it!" The padawans around him laughed. Gaven Palcar stood there and tried to concentrate on the stone before him, but it didn´t moved a bit. "He will never be a Jedi! He is too weak!" one of the other kids around him said.

"I´m not weak." came over his lips but his voice was telling another story.

The stone started to move and for a moment he felt joy inside him, until he heard the laughing and saw one of the other students, a human in his age, using the force to lift the stone.

Octavius looked at himself his own weakness. He felt the pain and the desperation he had felt that day.

The student slammed the stone in his direction and he tried to protect himself with the force, but he failed. It hit him in his face and he landed on the ground. "He is just here because of his father's money, he isn´t one of us."

"No, I'm a Jedi." he pleaded but he realized that it was a lie.

He saw his father who looked down on him, he saw the disappointed view in his eyes. The dismissing he felt for his son. For his only child, Gavens eyes filled with tears, while the other Jedi laughed even louder.

"Please, I don´t want to see this." he begged. Nothing of his strength was left in him, Octavius was kneeling on the floor and cried. Was this the end? Or had he already died and was suffering in hell now? He could feel how his anger grow. He wanted to kill someone, he wanted to do something. But he wasn´t able to do anything but watch.

TAG: @Halle Dray, @Moonspun Dragon, @Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Darth Anark
It begins indeed...


The slave maintained her silence as Anark took hold of her shoulders and shook her, still trying to extract from her the reason for her sudden fleeting. Hesper had already vanished from behind him by now and that was when he checked the data pad in his pocket to see that orders from the Emperor had arrived.

“I don’t have time for this.” He hissed, “We are almost there, follow me and patch yourself up on the way.”

Tarkana’s vision was blurred with tears as she obeyed and followed him.

***​

​

Darth Anark, shadowed by a limping Tarkana headed for the shuttle his master had assigned to him. Ascending up the ramp to it’s entrance point sent a faint chill through his spine as he was momentarily taken back to the moment that a fiery version of one of these hulks had been hurled at him, physically scarring his face forever more. Anark clocked black Stormtrooper armor, pristine, black human forms marching to their posts to fulfill their duties to the dark Empire and he thought that this siege of Coruscant, should he live to tell the tale, would be his crowning glory, his rite of passage in truly proving his worthiness and endless loyalty to the Sith. Teta had just been the warm up to what would no doubt be a glorious battle with many a glorious death.​

He was ready.

The Nu-class shuttle, at least in his mind, was not dissimilar to a lot of the freighters he had flown during his time in the Outer Rim. To Anark, a ship was a ship. He nodded to the pilot who powered her up and primed the ion drive, slowly maneuvering them out from the security of the Vapid's hangar. Tarkana sat in her seat making a real effort to keep her face straight and emotionless but Anark, without even looking in her direction, felt her fear vibrate through the Force. He had to stay focused though, time and precision was of the essence.

Minutes in, the shuttles cockpit window revealed an impressive squadron of Jedi TwinTails closing in fast. They opened fire, these guys were not kidding around. A scream escaped from Tarkana as the pilot’s console exploded in his face, killing him instantly.

Blast!

Tarkana rushed out of her seat and ran towards the solid Anark who only swayed slightly to one side when she ran into him, gripping onto his arm for dear life as the unmanned console in the cockpit sparked in a blue blaze.

“Pilot us!” Her voice cracked.

He touched her hand softly and pried it from his arm, motioning her to take a seat once more. The young Sith grunted as he grabbed the lifeless body of the pilot with one hand and tossed him aside to free up the chair. He sat and gathered his wits, he hadn’t flown a vessel in some time, much less flown one under such strenuous circumstances.

A bothersome alarm sounded all around the cockpit, warning that the ship’s shields had been breached. Anark could not deny fear and a feeling of being out of his depth lay festering in the pit of his stomach. He salvaged what control he could gain over the ship, activating the backup systems, navigating swiftly through a minefield of enemy fighters, calling upon the Force to guide their shuttle safely through the hailstorm. A colossal senate building came into view and Anark decided to head in that direction, simultaneously keeping the ship on a steady course as best he could while instructing Tarkana on how to operate the shuttles only laser canon. She didn’t hit anything and he never really expected her to, she’d had no training that he was aware of but he knew that if the ship was at least opening fire it could provide a diversion and keep the Jedi fighters out of the path in front.

As the shuttle began to close in above the senate building there was a deafening CRASH and a hole appeared in the shuttles hull, Anark and the woman cried out in unison as fire burst into the cockpit then dispersed. The already damaged ship rocked in the air, the alarm sounding in a continuous drone now instead of short intervals. Anark turned to Tarkana, sweat beading on his brow and said in a surprisingly calm voice…


“I think we’re going down.”

TAG: Sinrebirth greyjedi125 Darth Master Titus dragonsith13 corinthia Darth Rozic​

 

IC- Darth Arach
The Catacombs

"I can do it," Octavius called back. Arach gave a sharp nod as the apprentice set to work.

She, then, closed her eyes and focused on not only maintaining the connection, but strengthening it, as well. She felt Octavious' pain as he relived his own memory. She, too, opened her mind to Haretisch and the apprentices. Because of this, she weakened her own defenses, leaving herself open for the entity to strike her as well.

Knowing she had mere moments, Arach quickly nudged the other three with encouragement. Hang in there. Remember where you are. Don't give in!

Then the entity swarmed her with her own painful memory.

Arach, no, Isa stood looking at the wreckage of the ship that had been her main haul for nearly a week, now, with her hands on her hips. She knew she was going to have to find another source soon, this wasn't going last for much longer. Especially since one other mined from it as well.

She heard running footsteps approaching behind her. Speaking of.....

"What kept you?" Isa asked, turning her golden gaze from the ship and onto the only other person she had befriended since Rikku.

"Raiders," a girl, a few years younger than the seventeen year old Isa, responded.

"Lock," Arack whispered, her voice spoke of a deeper grief than even the grief she held for her parents. She reached her hand out as if to touch the newcomer.

Isa immediately looked over her shoulder to study the horizon. "Close?"

The shorter girl shook her head, her short blonde hair becoming tousled. "We should be done by the time they get here. If they get here, that is."

Isa still kept her gaze glued to the distance. The Raiders here were a similar culture to the Tusken Raiders on Tatooine, but far more savage. These Raiders were not skittish around outsiders. They had been known to attack full settlements and brutally murder the people. They would steal the livestock and valuables, and were known to wear parts of their enemies as ornaments on their clothing and belts. Even utilize their bones as weapons, or even vessels to quench their thirst.

They had been suspiciously quiet lately. Their last raid hadn't been for at least a few months. Isa had hoped they were dying off. Apparently, not.

"Okay," Isa said, bringing her attention back to the other girl. "I'm going to have to work fast. Stay here. If you see them, or anyone else, coming, whistle, then scram."

Lock opened her mouth in protest, but Isa sharply cut her to off. "Don't argue. We're wasting time." She softened her voice and drew the younger girl into a hug. "You're like my sister. I've lost too much family."

The blonde girl returned the hug, a bit awkwardly, having never really seen Isa like this. "Fine," she sighed with that typical teenage drama. "You'd better hurry."

Isa let go and immediately climbed into the wreckage.

"Don't go," Arach whispered again. "Take her with you."

Isa quickly sifted the garbage from the valuable. She was about to leave when something started to pull her toward the cargo hold at the far end of the ship.

Isa hesitated, her gaze flicking from the way out, to the other end of the ship. She was concerned about the Raiders being so close, but she had that insatiable itch she sometimes got that whatever was in the cargo hold would be worth enough to feed the two of them for a couple or so months. She decided to take a quick look, then come back for it when it was safer.

She was halfway there when the sharp, shrill whistle sounded.

Isa immediately forgot about the cargo hold and was scrambling back the way she had come as fast as she could. She was almost there when her foot caught a loose piece of metal. She flailed for something to steady her, but there was nothing. She fell hard, her elbow jamming into her diaphragm, knocking the wind out of her. She layed on the twisted bulkhead, wheezing for breath, furiously blinking back tears. Black spots were dancing in front of her eyes.

"No. Nononononono. Get up, please, get up!" Arach pleaded her younger self. No matter how much she pleaded, it would not change the outcome.

As Isa gasped for breath, she heard a shriek that made her blood run cold. Lock! Come on, Isa! Get up! Her body refused. The scavenger didn't know how long she layed there, but as soon as she felt the pressure in her chest and lungs ease the slightest bit, she forced herself up and stumbled outside.

She just managed to take in the scene of three Raiders carving into Lock as if she were a slab of ham. All of them had their backs to Isa.

Isa locked her golden eyes with Lock's brilliant silver eyes. "LOCK!" She screamed, adrenaline pumping through her as she charged the Raiders who turned to look, startled at the unexpected company. They stopped what they were doing and ran to meet her.

Isa screamed at them and realeased a powerful pulse of energy. It sliced through them, severing their legs from their bodies. Isa acted on her rage. She used this unexpected energy to pin them against the hull of the ship. Before she could do anything else, however, Lock's weakening voice stopped her. "Isa."

Leaving them to scream in pain and to struggle against her hold, Isa came to her friend's side and knelt. She knew the girl wasn't going to make it. "Hey," she said softly, cradling Lock gently.

Tears made Lock's silver eyes shine more brightly. "I'm sorry. I t- tried to ru- run."

Isa gently shushed her. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have left you." Her voice broke as tears streamed from her eyes. "You shouldn't have been out here."

"I wou- would have c- come anyway."

Isa shook her head. "I'll get you help. You can-"

With the last bit of her strength, Lock gripped Isa's arm. "Stop." A moment of silence, then, "Don't leave me alone."

Isa settled them into a more comfortable position, taking care not to jostle the girl. She held her and started singing a lullaby Sadie had sang to her after her parents' murders.

It wasn't long before Lock stilled and was no more.

Isa knew immediately. She stopped singing, held her adopted sister's body close for a moment. "I'm sorry, sister."

Then she started trembling with her bottled rage, grief. With over care, she settled the girl's corpse onto the ground and stood. The scavenger turned and. Walked back to where the Raiders were still pinned.

They all immediately stopped screaming and struggling and, became quiet with terror. They only now realized they had messed with someone far more dangerous than they could possibly imagine.

Without a word, Isa looked met their eyes and drank in their fear. Then she locked eyes with one and focused.

Immediately, she felt his blood to literally begin to boil slowly and his internal organs begin to slowly melt. Is a was literally cooking him from the inside out. Though, she kept his brain and heart untouched so he could live and feel as much pain for longer.

Once he was dead, she turned to another and,calmly, started on that one. Then the next.

Releasing the Raiders corpses, she turned back to Lock's body and knelt by her side again briefly to close her long since empty eyes. "You are avenged. Rest in peace, Lock."

With that, she stood and started to walk away, stopping only once to retrieve Lock's vibroblade......

Arach felt the grief and guilt as fresh as if it had had just happened. She sat back on her heels and wailed her grief, releasing wave after wave of energy that didn't harm her compatriots.

Spent, she collapsed onto her side, squeezing her eyes shut. Its in the past. She was desperately reminding herself and, subconsciously, everyone else. Don't give in. Don't give up. Remember who you are.

"Too late," was the whispered response.

Tags: Darth_wanderguard, Anedon, Halle Dray

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Emperor’s Gambit; The taking of Coruscant

“You are all here because you have been found worthy. You have proven this beyond any doubt.”

Lord Manticore paced slowly, methodically, before his assigned troop of Sith Soldiers.

These were his Scorpions.

He could sense their feelings, their resolve. Most were ready…but not all, not in his estimation. He needed to bring their focus to a sharp point, the sharpest they could muster.

“This is your defining moment. All that you have trained for and fought for, all that you could possibly hope to aspire, culminates here.

Coruscant is a most precious jewel, one that can fulfill anyones desire, and today, the Sith Empire has come to lay claim to that jewel, and you are the ones who will make that happen. Victory and only total victory will result in rewards which are beyond imagination. The Emperor sends forth his strongest, because only their strength can crush his enemies, only the strong can perform his will.

I know that you are strong. I see it in your eyes, I perceive it in your stance, in the tone of your voices. Your pride is no vanity, it is a testament to your rightful achievement…and today, the galaxy will know what each of you can achieve, that you have come to lay claim to this jewel and called it yours.

Whatever our enemy has planned, it is born out of desperation, it cannot stand, it will not stand. They are afraid to live and they are afraid to die. We fear neither life nor death, for we know not the meaning of fear. The Sith Empire achieves what we achieve, and honors its warriors through its history, we are, in essence, immortal.

Remember, through Power we gain Victory!

Go forth now and lay low our enemies, take the jewel and claim it as yours, for honor, for glory, for the Sith Empire!”

The zabrak sith master could feel it, the thirst for victory, the burning fires within them, being fanned to greater intensity.

Manticore offered the Sith Troopers a solid and respectful nod of his cowled head, his fiery eyes never wavering from the soldiers.

He directed them to their shuttles, even as he turned and marched to the ship Emperor Insipid prepared for him.

A sith Fury-class fighter.

Manticore allowed himself a smirk. It was aptly named. Moreover, he’d gone over the ship’s specs. They were more than adequate. For tactical purposes, Manticore made sure that NK-RS, Necros, the black astromech aboard the fighter, also had access to combat data from all the deployed ships in this sortie.

There was no doubt in his mind that events were going to get ‘hot’ pretty quickly.

The zabrak Sith lord acknowledge his fellow sith, Digrant, Titus, Anark and Hesper, with a solid nod as well. The moment was at hand.

There would be blood, death, fire and glory, and from the ashes, victory.

Empress Marasiah Fel and Grand Master K’Kruk will know no darker day that this. Coruscant and the Senate will fall, and the Sith will ascend to their rightful place upon the galactic tapestry.

Thoughts of Darth Malgus and his campaign surfaced to memory, but not for long, as they were quickly banished. The now required all of the Sith Lord’s attention. All that he needed to know from the past, he’d already learned.

Manticore was well aware of the Emperor’s additional targets as he boarded his fighter. They too would feel Darth Insipid’s wrath.

Within moments, all fighters and shuttles were deployed, and the Battle of Coruscant was engaged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Music: The Stygian Executor

Manticore grit his teeth!

They had jumped straight into a firefight!

Necros fed him intel as he piloted like never before, using his force senses to maximum gain in order to anticipate enemy fire. If he was displeased with the casualties caused by the delayed arrival of the Relus Fleet, he could only imagined the absolute fury the Emperor must be in. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment.

The Vapid was taking fire from planet-side battle stations, but holding, though it would’t be able to stand such a punishing assault indefinitely, despite being the powerful vessel that she was.

Manticore spied the Jedi fighters and fought the powerful urge to veer off and engage them. The priority was to make it to the ground. Still, any Jedi foolish enough to come within his weapon’s range was met with a barrage from his heavy laser cannons. They could either evade or be vaped!

The X-83 had better armaments, but it was heavier and slower than the Fury. He’d definitely have to keep them off the shuttles as best he could.

The D-types were doing their job, but just barely. If Manticore could notice , surely the Emperor did as well. That was something to be addressed later, much later.

A thrumming went through Manticore, and he’d guessed what it was even as Necros informed him. The Superlaser had fired! It smashed through the first layer of the planetary shield with a flash of quantum brilliance, then busted a hole through the second one. All shuttles accelerated at once! They were going in fast, but the jedi wasted no time following. Manticore flipped his fighter around and provided some cover fire.

He caught several overly eager jedi, three at the very least, and saw their fighters blossom into plumes of fire and destruction. The rest veered to avoid, while others returned fire, but Manticore already maneuvered away, albeit grudgingly.

Those D-types could be doing a better job.

Manticore saw the flash of Ion Cannons and managed to evade the initial volley. Thankfully, the shuttle pilots managed the same. So far so good. He didn’t expect any of this to be easy, however, the angrier he got the more focused and determined he became.

Those would need to be taken out, or avoided at all costs.

Just then, Necros shared the data coming in. The Senate Chamber was covered by a pocket shield. Its generator was outside, but it was also defended by an anti-aircraft emplacement. Manticore snarled as he saw Predators and CF9 Crossfire squadrons take to the air.

The shield generator was protected by about one hundred soldiers and half a dozen AT-AHTs.

This indeed was a day for WAR!

Then, the inevitable happened. One of the shuttles was struck several times by enemy fire. It was Anark’s shuttle. Manticore felt the pilot die instantly, but they had suffered no other casualty, at least not yet.

Four of the shuttles under the zabrak’s command overlapped shields, an effective tactic, but one that could not last long under the current barrage. The hole to the planet was shrinking. In an instant, Manticore accelerated ahead, stretching out with the Force.

“Necros, relay my movements to the shuttles and tell them to match my speed as best they can.”

The best defense was not to get hit.

The Sith fighter sped ahead and was in the lead, Manticore, in essence was the target of choice. However, his deeper attunement to the force allowed him to predict incoming fire and narrowly avoid it, which meant anyone behind him had more time to make adjustments. What he could not avoid, he deflected by projecting a Force Barrier.

In this way, all shuttles had a much greater chance of making it through the rapidly diminishing hole in the second planetary shield. Manticore certainly hoped Darth Anark managed his burden well enough to make it through. He’d fought well against the Jedi that dared to board The Vapid. Certainly he was strong enough for this.

“That generator must be taken out.” Manticore declared on a channel open to all troopers.

“I’ll engage the enemy on the ground, that should distract them. Let’s see how desperate they really are. Two of you will provide air support. Strafe the enemy at will, watch out for anti-air. Take out the weapons on the AT-AHT’s if you can, then target their legs. The rest, try to keep the skies clear until we create a momentary LZ.”

To Necros, Manticore instructed the droid to strafe on his position, in intermittent intervals.

With that, the zabrak Sith master let his hate flow through every fiber of his being as he instructed the droid to make its first pass in the vicinity of an AT-AHT on the fringe of the combat zone. Manticore had the droid set the fighter into a tight barrel roll as they approached. He used his Force Powers to ablate incoming enemy fire and as the ship inverted, Manticore opened the cockpit and leapt out towards the walker, lightsaber flaring to life.

The Fury sith fighter veered away immediately as the Sith lord streaked towards his objective. He controlled and angled his descent via the Force as he both barriered against and deflected enemy fire. His defiant roar was drowned out by the wind!

Manticore was a relatively small target and counted on his size to factor against the mechanical monstrosity’s firing array. As he landed topside with a resounding ‘clang’, He sliced off the gun turret with a powerful swing of his weapon.

That act had taken a heartbeat to perform, then he was gone.

He jumped down, spinning in mid-air, deflecting blaster fire, full of rage and sithly fury. Manticore landed with a shockwave, right in the midst of all the enemy soldiers, sending many of them flying and setting others off balance, but this was no time to be still. In a blink, the raging zabrak let his vehemence loose upon the crowd of enemy soldiers. He moved fast and relentlessly, each strike a killing blow. They tried to scatter and give themselves room, but they didn’t wield the power of the darkside. Manticore could cross any distance in a blink of an eye, reach anyone of them at will.

He was killing them all as he made his way towards the generator. He was also sending a message to both the Empress and the Jedi Grand Master as he minced and carved their men.

The Stygian Executor was coming for them, and there was nothing and no one they could send to stop him, unless they came themselves.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Snokers, @Darth Master Titus

 

IC: Darth Anark
Coruscant - going down...



“This shuttle is not destined for a happy landing!”

Tarkana obeyed him without hesitation and wrapped both arms around Anark’s solid frame.

“DO NOT let go!” he had to shout to compete with the deafening scream of wind flooding in through a gaping hole in the vessel. Anark took a last glance out the view port to see the senate building relatively close, he hoped the ship would hit it dead center and raise it to the ground but it was still too far away to be certain the shuttle would hit its mark. Tarkana’s eyes were squeezed shut, as were her arms around her master.

Anark allowed himself a deep breath before he opened the escape hatch above them and jumped upwards, propelled by the Force for an extra kick.

“Wooow!”

The two rocketed into the sky, cold air engulfing them and of all the things to notice on the way down, the beauty of the great city landscape from up high and lights gleaming as far as the eye could see, Anark’s vision focused on what he instantly knew was the cunning Zabrak, Manticore, Stygian Executor of the Empire he so loved, downing a large turret with nothing but his scarlet blade. He looked small from up here but his form was increasing in size as they plummeted closer and closer to the ground below, at that moment he remembered he had baggage, she still had her eyes closed and he could feel her fingers digging into his back through his clothing where they were nestled between his armor. Ten feet off the ground he attempted to steady them with a motion of one hand, using a Force push against the ground to soften their landing. They both hit the ground with a thud and Anark skidded a few feet along the gravel on his back, the woman safe on top of him. They had made it.

Anark instantly got to his feet, pulling the woman up by her belt and standing her upright. He ignited his lightsaber and found himself already having to focus and deflect incoming blaster fire from a band of enemy troops who must have noticed them in the air. Two unfortunate soldiers went down with the first two deflections the Sith achieved, their own blaster bolts searing their vital organs. Anark reached into the holster on his leg and tossed a DL-44 pistol at Tarkana, she caught it in two hands. Anark took care of two more soldiers with a throw of his lightsaber, guided by the Force, striking both through their midsections and then returning to his hand like a boomerang. After noticing that Tarkana hadn’t fired a single shot, he yanked her behind a low wall a few meters away.

“What are you doing? I gave you that weapon for a reason!” His eyes were alight with annoyance and strain.

She placed a hand on each of her temples. “Now is our chance, I know places here where we can lay low, where we can be safe."

Anark was dumbfounded.

“We have been through this. Destiny has brought us here, Emperor Insipid has chosen me among many great Sith Lords to aid him in this venture. You were there when Lord Manticore spoke of glory, of honor and of laying claim to the jewel that is Coruscant! I thought you would be helping me right now, doing your best for me!”

Tarkana avoided eye contact, looking everywhere else except in the Sith’s direction.

“I have a feeling that the Empress was already aware of this plan. They will have taken precautions and you are not in your own domain. You cannot win this fight.”


Anark’s brow furrowed, and suddenly he did not even need to question the woman's logic. She hadn’t fired at any of the enemy troops on the ground because this was her home. She had been in contact with Coruscant, most likely when she disappeared on the Vapid when he had been engaged in conversation with Hesper. She had betrayed him.

And it made him sick.

 

IC: Borek Tek (Tek)
Under a chunk of rock, Hoth


Hmmm. He might have to re-negotiate with ole Lord Haretisch. Wasnt even a good 30 minutes, and Tek had watched them in action. He was not impressed. The girl he was supposed to be protecting, Esmerelda, seemed to be some sort of tech. Obviously, she was the one who was supposed to be opening up whatever hidden doorways were in this place, so that they could get what they came here for. But the girl couldn't seem to do the job, without setting off
any alarms.

The short surly Master Tek first met, complained after Tek unloaded, taking out the turrents on one side of the tunnel they were boxed in. Darth Kralkus looked up, blinking as the fog and cobwebs cleared from his head. "Burst all of our ears you will!" he barked at Tek.

"Your welcome." was Tek's only reply. He held off shooting on the other end, watching as the Sith Lord bounded forward, and then landed on the first set of turrets. Ridding that machine like it was a bucking rackor, he watched as Kralkus dangling underneath, as the machine spun like mad. The machinery finally gave way, sending the Sith flying, his hands still clutching what was left of the turrets.

'Well, that looked like a fun ride.' Tek thought to himself, even as he watched the man take out the other turrets with lighting. Zeet, once he realized there was no more immediate threat, turned back his shields, keeping them around him, but leaving everyone else free. Darth Cranky looked to Esmerelda. "Are you-"

"Done!" she beamed, standing up as the doors slid open. Tek moved closer to her, watching the area that now showed "Done well you have, Esmerelda," Kralkus acknowledged, shuffling toward the open doorway. Tek fell in step behind her, while Zeet zipped down, to hide once more, as he actively scanned the new area. Tek's eyepiece didnt pick up anything at the moment, so he simply stayed quiet, keeping his rifle at the ready. At least the next bit of walking was pretty quiet, and it Tek was glad for the silence.

After a length the turning, the descending hallway reached its end in a spacious, circular room. What appeared to be a series of pods sat equilaterally from a center column. Most were empty. One was not. Tek watched mildly curious. It was a gal in one of the pods. Pretty. Red hair. Curious, why she would be here, but before he could put much thought into it, one of the others seemed drawn towards the other side of the room. Suddenly, the man punched the button that was on the console. What the Kriff!?!?! These Sith were even more insane, than before!

With a click, a seam appeared along the front of the pod, as the top half of it swung abruptly upward on a hinge. A white mist poured from the enclosure as the warm atmosphere within equalized with the frigid air of the room, obscuring the figure within.

In a familiar refrain, alarm bells began to howl as exits slammed shut, sealing the team within. Then a few interesting things happened. Well, at least, interesting to Tek. His eyepiece lit up with all new information.

Along the walls, three large panels slid upward.
Two A-class assassin droids and a a strange third droid stood beside them. Well now, they sure looked like they didnt want any unwanted company. "Well, lookie here." Tek drawled. He was eyeing the blood red lightsaber blades the two assassin droids were holding. And if that wasnt strange enough, the third droid was some sort of 4 legged beastie. When it suddenly flared a light around it, Tek's eyepiece showed that it had snapped on a shield generator,

Tek chuckled. This was going to be fun!

The young lady who had just seconds ago been doing a great impersonation of a frozen dairy treat, was suddenly feeling very spy, as she jumped, throwing her body out and over the edge of her former prison and onto the floor outside. Landing on her feet, she took a quick step and spun around while grabbing for her lightsabers on either hip.

"Woah." Tek blinked. If she was just more than show, then Tek would be impressed. The lady already had his attention. Too bad he was on a babysitting gig already.

"A bad feeling about this, I have," Kralkus sighed, and activated his saberstaff.

'Ya think?!' Tek thought, but stayed silent. Suddenly the bug leveled its twin rapid-fire blasters at Esmerelda and Tek and unloaded. With a growl, Tek moved fast. VERY fast, and quikly and gently moved Esmerelda behind one of the other pods, to shield her. "Sorry but that." Tek stated, as he used his scope to scan the bug. "I suggest ya stays down. These things seem a bit smarter than most droids." Zeet bleeped at him, and Tek grinned and Zeet slowly floated up. "Present company not included." he added, as he re-slung his rifle, and drew his pistol. The Dissuader. Made specifically, for messy little droids like this one.

"Zeet, keep ya shields up for Esmerelda here, while I go have some fun." Zeet bleeped softly, as Tek turned and walked around the pod he had moved Esmerelda to. He then took his slugthrower pistol, and opened up on the droid that had shot at them.



TAG: Sinrebirth, QueenSabe7, Darth Kronos, Lady Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard

 

Darth Hades
Sith Temple, Moraband

Hades walked with Insipid until a young Acolyte blocked there way. He brought new that ws welcoming and unwelcome all at once.​

​

'Go and deal with our intruder, Hades, if you wish to be trusted again with a frontline post. The fleet in orbit has dispersed to effect our war against Coruscant. We will need to deal with this fool swiftly until the fleet realigns.'

He did not get to speak as the Acolyte said exactly what he was thinking.​

​

"As you wish, Emperor," the Acolyte replied and turned to Hades with a datapad, "Everything you need is here, Lord Hades. See the Quartermistress if you require armaments or equipment."

I will not need anything. ​

​

Hades did not speak anymore but bowed to Insipid. He turned and left to go deal with their intruder.​

​

Desert, Moraband

​

Hades knelt in the shadows and watched the two Bounty Hunters by a fire. A Wookiee and his companion, who was outside of the firelight, seemed to be content in being loud enough that he was surprised the entire Temple hadn't heard the pair.

He began to inch closer, watching. He needed to be patient in order to kill both, for he could feel the force in one of them.​

​

TAG: WookieeRage

 

IC: AC89 -- Ruins beneath Sadow'een

Systems initializing. Identified: six hostiles. Scanning. Five hostiles human, one unknown origin. Target acquired: human male. Height: approximately 1.75 meters. Initializing combat sequence. Command #0001: melee range. Command #0461: low feint, high slash. Target area: neck.

TAG: Darth Kronos

 

IC: Wuulfwarg
The last contract...
Moraband, Surface, Canyon Edge
a couple hours after setting up camp....

*PAIN!*
Wuulfwarg awoke suddenly to a ghastly image, more decrepit and defiled than anything he's ever seen in the Shadowlands. *gasp* It was Nubia Ja'aern, his former Jedi Master huddled over his lower half, she was....tearing his flesh and eating it! The Wookiee let out a howl louder than anything on the planet surface. Sosca shot up quicker than a Kybuck. The Wookiee began kicking the apparition frantically to which the apparition faded into the canyon beneath him.

What the hell was that about?? Sosca exclaimed. Wuulfwarg replied mortified... I.I..I don't know, this place is tainted... beyond anything the Jedi have ever told me...Sosca saw the fear in Wuulfwarg's face which didn't help the Rookie Bounty Hunter feel any better.
Wuulfwarg's feeling of horror began to fade as the two bounty hunters began to suit up and prepare their tools for the job. Sosca had a Prototype Assassin Rifle, Thermal detonators, and cuffs for the legs and arms. No need for the cuffs, this is a Sith Lord, remember? this one dies, we can't risk taking him back to the contact alive. Now scout our route, I don't want any suprises. Wuulfwarg growled. Sosca looked through the scope of his rifle. Looks fairly clear... there is a large weird looking building off in the distance. To which the Wookiee replied; That's the Sith Temple you numbskull, we're not doing the deed in there, that's a death sentence. There's one way we're doing this... my way, and here’s what’s going to happen, we use those Thermal Detonators you brought along and we’re going to plant them between the canyon, detonate them when he walks near and ambush him. I’ll take him from the side and you take him from above, not too hard for you’re Snake brain is it? Sosca let out a hiss, I spent a lot of money on these Thermals you furball! The two began to make their way down the cliff-face onto a rough path below the air beneath the canyons was stifling, you could barely breathe, heavy, like a durasteel door on your chest. Take point bonehead, Wuulfwarg howled at the Trandoshan. They walked many miles until they reached the ambush point. The Wookiee gurgled intently, Alright climb up and plant your precious detonators, then we wait, the intel said he was arriving on station, and he would soon be frequenting this path it shouldn’t be too long, be ready, this Sith, Darth Hades was once Jedi and knows more about the force now that he’s embraced the darkness again. This has to be perfect, or we’ll both be turned into pelts. The Trandoshan replied Who?.....

Tag: E. L.Knight