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Raven Zinthos

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About Raven Zinthos

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  • Birthday 12/26/1991


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  1. The bacta gel was sticky and tacky to the touch, it was slathered thickly on the back of her head, causing her to pull her hair into a high style, and forgoing the normal hat that she wore. She stood in a dark uniform that covered her in the Imperial style, high epaulettes of silver that matched the rank cylinders that were tucked in her breast pocket. She no longer wore her old lightsabre, instead it had been replaced by one of the mass created ones that the imperial knights were so very fond of. A simple sabre with little ornamentation, its silver blade was as plain as the handle. But here the empress without a throne stood, as a technician worked on her battered metallic arm, staring into the tank in front of her. In which floated her own form, a clone, designed for the mission and yet unused. The imperial Knights that had fought beside her were also standing at attention as the Rebel Admiral was admitted and announced. Raven saluted, as did her guard. She listened smiling politely as one of the medical orderies applied another clump of gel to the side of her face, which had been slightly burned by the Sith’s attacks. “I would be most agreeable to enjoin with the Rebel alliance in this venture. You have the support of the imperial crown. Whatever remains of it, and I will join your task force with my own, Is that acceptable Admiral?”
  2. The Black painted Star Destroyer Misericordia in all of its grandeur emerged on the edges of the Nal Hutta system after its delay in retrieving Raven Zinthos, the empress of the old imperial remnant. Which had subsided into the new Rebel Alliance along with the embittered remnants of the old Galactic Alliance of whom very few people had much good to say. Yet Raven was happy to have unioned with past enemies in the face of the destruction that was the Sith Lords. Those foolish conniving Sith that had attempted an assassination and had gotten little out of it except the deaths of multiple Sith Lords and the wounding of Raven and Cassandra. Both of whom were in the recovery ward. They had much to discuss with the Lady Adenna.
  3. Raven nodded politely, waving a cut, gloved hand to dismiss the acquisition of her old lightsabre. Its long silver handle was marked by years of use, though it had been lovingly cared for over the decade and a half she had had the device. She had lost the fight and like their lives themselves, it had all been a risk that they could have lost. Still they had learned much at the hands of the Sith, and for that Raven was at least grateful. She bowed to the Sith Master Qaela as did her Imperial Knights. “Until we meet again Lady of the Sith.” For Ismael the departure was different. He looked upon the smoking bodies of the Sith lords and apprentices and a flicker of sadness passed over his tanned face. “I will pray for their souls.” He looked the Lady of the Sith in her purple eyes and inclined his head, tapping his pauldron. “And for yours as well lady.” And so the Rebel Alliance departed the Sith star destroyer, in an escape pod that was slight and cramped. But they were alive.
  4. Ismael let out a barking laugh as he let the Sith Apprentice’s unconscious body collapse to the steel decking. He shook his head and beckoned to Cassandra, then his cold grey eyes fell on the Sith Master. They maintained their cool expression until the emperor of the Sith had finished his overlong monologue. “There is no crown to take, for royalty does not work like attaining rank in the musted pits of Korriban I think. Your emperor sure delights in filling the galaxy with hot air does he not?” He laughed again, a tune of joy on his words. “This rebellion will bring that emperor low, they always do.” He kept his sabre on, but at a low guard. He bowed formally, thanking her for the fight and pleasure of the slaughter of her Lords. “Now may I have our empress?” The young Rebel Alliance leader meanwhile coughed and sputtered into wakefulness below the blade of the Nightsister. Raven grinned a sloppy grin and nodded her head, wincing at the pain from the blow. There was no need for her to be rude to the woman who had bested her after all. “You fought amazingly Lord Sith. It was a pleasure to flex those muscles again.” She struggled to get up, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the decking. “I say we must arrange another duel when I am more prepared.” It was strange, she had thought to wake up in a clone tank on Nar Shaddaa or in another torture pit instead of like this.
  5. Imperial Knight Commander Vernon Ryzhkov stood on the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer speaking to his counterpart, the attaché to the Military War College, Knight Commander Calistra Ivanov. She was kneeling in the meditation chamber behind the bridge of the single Star Destroyer attached to the College defense fleet, the Adveniat. The star destroyer was almost five decades old, and looked its age, despite the recent coat of imperial grey paint, there were the distinctive rust lines of a star destroyer that saw many months of atmospheric flight. One of the turbolaser turrets had ground to a halt during the evacuations and poked awkwardly to the aft of the ship, while the rest spun in coordination with their predetermined rotations. The ship, like all the fleet elements stationed at Anaxes were elderly ships at the end of their respective service lives. Many reactors were due for replacement or scuttling some years back, but the Galactic Alliance’s budget had not been targeted towards restoring old hulks used only for training. And after all, what better way to learn the failures in ships then to have to train on the most abused wrecks in the fleet? Or at least that had been the Galactic Alliance’s approach. Now, these ships would be evacuated along with college staff to the Rebel Alliance base at Nar Shaddaa. Put up to drydock, repaired and returned to service. At least if their refurbishment was worth the credits poured in. The Imperial Knights meditated as the evacuation neared its end, reaching out wit the force to give the assurance the evacuees needed. A form of battle meditation, it would none the less help. First, fully refuelled were the ancient Seraphim class Fuel tenders, Kilometers long fuel filled ships that were the essential backbone of the old imperial style strike force. Modified Seraphims also carried the College’s remaining replenishables, rations, and ammunition. The following Seraphims were evacuated: Seraphim Class Fuel Tenders Lilianna Maria Kaila Modified Seraphim Class Fleet Replenishment Vessel Apollonia Anastasia Theodora Next came the fleet training vessels that had been retired from both the New Republic and Imperial Remnant Navies after the battle of the last death star. Both had complements and trainees that took the competition between the two old navies to heart and dressed the part. The two victory class star destroyers, also showing extensive rusting were named after moffs that had been essential in the Galactic Alliance split. While the GA admiral class ships were named for naval admirals that had been essential in forming the Galactic Alliance. One had been renamed from Starlisk to Sikaot due to concerns from faculty at the amount of hatred and rage the name had brought from any visiting imperials. The Following ships were evacuated in short order Victory I “Moff” Class training ships Moff Caiderus Moff Honenhiem MC75 “Admiral” Class Training Ships Admiral Sikaot Admiral Sairdonga MC30 “Queen” Class Queen Memara Queen Miriam
  6. Breathe Raven sucked in another lungful of air as she felt her blade nick on the Dathomiri’s leather armour. She could feel the thrill of the blow, even though it did scant damage, the small victory brought her a spike of joy. Feeling that joy she focused on it, letting it fill her mind, no matter how temporary it was. Kirlocca had taught her that much. A crooked smile hooked on the corner of her mouth. She twisted the sabre away to deflect the counter strike from the Dathomiri, and again concentrated on the build. She was ebbing bits of it off slowly into her movements, while building the majority of her strength for whatever finale there would be. She willed her arms and legs to go faster as they fought the battle, her purple eyes staring into Qaela’s and Raven was almost shocked by their sudden change from violet to the twisted red gold. Wickedness Though it had been almost a decade since Raven had seen those eyes in person, they bid a familiar tale. One that foretold a swift end to the duel of their red sabres. It was spelled out clearly enough, the woman was engulfing herself in the force for some fatal blow. Bowing to the wickedness in her heart. Evil was building into a storm. Raven let her dim smile grow full, her eyes remaining their deep shade of purple as she began to draw fully on the joy and love she had felt in her life. Sparse as they may have been, she fed those memories into her mind. The faint sense of danger was growing to its full tide as the storm built inside the Dathomiri. A blaster bolt burned right by her head, but Raven stood fast, concentrating on the fullest danger. A storm was brewing, inside the conference room. There was only one chance really against a storm of wind and death. Raven couldn’t simply conjure a shield, she had no such talent. She would have to make whatever blow the Nightsister tried to give her a glancing and temporary one. Raven concentrated her everything on what came next. The wicked smile. Raven pulled her sabre back beside her, her human arm crooked and ready to jab the blade forward and bent her knees. Her fine tuned robotic arm holding the saber from across her body. Qaela leapt and a half second later Raven launched herself after her. She watched the arc of her jump, seeing where she was likely to land and attempting to arrive at the same spot. Unlike the Dathomiri, she did not leap. She dashed. Every step amplified by the force. She pushed the force through her leg muscles, through the bones, through her feet, to the decking, forcing herself to be faster, forcing the dash across the two meters to be a solid one. Every step was an anchor that could not falter. Or they would all die on a Sith Star Destroyer, far from home and the ones they loved. The buffeting wind hit first, smacking at her back, then the fiery shrapnel that cut through the thin dress uniform tunic and screeched across the metal of her arm. The fire stung, crisping at her uniform, lighting the threads of the red piping at her shoulder. Igniting a small patch of the uniform at her back. But though painful, the pain could wait, it was only six feet. Only three steps in the course of maybe a second. A three step sprint beside the flaming holo projector. If Raven had to endure ten or more seconds of such a gale it would have been overwhelming. But she was a rock. She was the Pretender. One of the Leaders of the Rebel alliance. An Empress without a throne. And as the Nightsister landed, the Pretender lunged and pushed her blade forward.Pushing with her back foot and twisting her entire body behind the blow. Hips, shoulders, arms, empowered by the force in an impaling blow that should it connect, would cut the heart of the storm. ((3)) ((Really well fought Travis. A surprise but a real joy.))
  7. Raven kept her breathing steady, her deep purple eyes reflecting the red of her sabre as she spin it before her face to swipe away another attack. It was frustrating, she was very much out of her element, and though she had done a lot to keep up her abilities, she was still taxed to her absolute limit keeping the Sith Lord at bay. If only she had accepted the Jedi’s offer of help and training. She kept her cool, letting the emotions fall from her mind, as she drew upon the force to give her help. The next blow from the Sith lord had a great deal more power behind it and Raven grimaced with the effort to parry the blow. The trick of sword fighting was always to let the opponent waste their energy in rushing blows, and Raven kept with the tactic. Letting the blow glide off her blade with a steep angle. The Sith gestured towards the door at Raven’s back and with an audible crunch, and Raven could feel the anticipatory danger at her back. Tiana had been fond of such tricks, though they had usually been swathes of knives, or dozens of unseeable needles. Raven grunted and let her right leg bend, then push her off to the side. Letting the heavy doors cascade across the floor where she had just been. The momentary respite from the swordplay allowed Raven time to tap into the force to rejuvenate her strength, and so, taking a high guard, Raven dashed in again. Raining three blows towards Qaela’a upper body, and transitioning into a feinting lunge. Before turning it into a rising attack. She whistled and Knight Cassandra engaged the new troops approaching from the door. Aiming at them with a blast of force energy while Raven summoned the force herself. She had no particular talent in the telekinesis that the Sith used, so she would be giving her all with the lightsabre. Perhaps, if she was lucky, and fast enough, her blade would find a vulnerable area to bite into. With her blows, she attempted to push the Sith woman onto the fighting Imperial knights. ((2))
  8. Cowards Raven inhaled slowly as the Lord of the Sith finished his final words, tapping into that power that she so despised. Kirlocca had helped, helped focus that rage that always battled inside her skull. Helped turn it to something calm, but in tapping it she could feel the pain that the force had brought her over her relatively short lifetime. That point of rage that had snapped in the deep mines of Zinthos, that had brought so much blood on her hands that they never felt clean. That rage that had led her to kill a Jedi knight on Gala just to prove that she could, while the Trinity slaughter hundreds. The rejection that shattered her arm into dust when she had been expelled by her old master. The pain of the robotic arm attachment before the quick boot camp, the rage at seeing the Rebels carrying the day over the last Death Star. Her seething hatred at the Galactic Alliance and its weakness. With one breath she let those emotions cascade through her and be shunted away. One breath. The hot air wisped out of her mouth as her lightsabre sprang to life in her hand. The deep red blade that had carved the life out of a Jedi a decade before. It carried her regret, and it carried her will to destroy everything the Sith stood for. She let herself move along with the Dathomiri Sith, fading back towards the doorway where she could feel the evil presence of more men outside. She lept high as the door opened. Blaster bolts passed beneath her as her blade come up towards the door panel. It was simple, if they did not isolate this room, they would die a lot quicker. The two Imperial Knights followed her lead, and as one the Empress and her Knights closed the room off from reinforcements. Knight Ismael and Knight Cassandra worked well together, they had since Carida. While Ismael harried the pursuing Sith with a wave of the force, Cassandra followed what the Empress did. The actuators inside the doors were hydraulically motivated, and like on most Star Destroyers, upon loss of hydraulic pressure the blast doors closed. With a spin, and a slash of a well aimed sabre. One pearl white, and the other a vitriol crimson, two control panels were blown apart. Slamming the doors closed in the faces of the Sith Troopers. It was a delay, It was no permanent solution, but it would hold for the several minutes it would take to kill the Sith Lord and her Cadre. And if they didn't make it that far? At least it was a valiant effort. One slash, then Raven was back and facing the Dathomiri. Their red blades crossed for a moment before Raven inhaled again, summoning the force to her will. It was no longer time to give ground. She pushed off into a rabid counter attack, her blade whirling in front of her. Tiana had been fond of such attacks, and Raven would show that Sith fighting style to the Sith. Aggressive blow after blow as she strove to turn the Sith lord towards the centre of the room as she let the force guide her strokes. She let the Force build in her presence, that still calm before the storm as the two Imperial Knights began to advance on their enemies as well. ((1)) The shuttle crew prepared themselves for death and fragged their navicomputer. While the Imperial Star Destroyer collected the thousands of freed prisoners and dashed back to Nar Shaddaa.
  9. The Imperial Knight looked up from his datapad as he used his finger to sign the transfer orders. “Yes you may go ahead and alter your uniforms, though by the time you are done with this assignment I think you may get an actual imperial commission instead of a militia posting.” He tapped his lightsabre and walked down the gangplank onto the massive star destroyer. He smiled back at them, his grin wide. “Come along, we have a planet to save!” He laughed to himself as the Montjoie began to cast off. ((@Vox You are now joining commander Mythos and this imperial knight on their way to Anaxes as well as the next posting. ))
  10. She shook her head slowly, her black locks of hair pulled back behind her cap, brushing the edges of her crisp uniform. Her Imperial Knights glowered at the image of the Dark Lord. “I have no reason to go to coruscant and give death to all that follow me. We cannot pretend to trust a terrorist and ally of the Black Sun in such a manner. No you will not have me, for I cannot trust you.” She smiled sadly, as she took another breath, her hands clasped behind her back. Her shoulders straight, exemplifying her militaristic background as best she could. “I trust that out of your magnanimous good will that you have promised to the galaxy, you will also show to those that you have captured and your now erstwhile allies. You claim to be good, and we’ve seen a glimpse of it with this thousand, so I will trade the lives of those Black Sun we captured for the lives of the Kuati and other prisoners you may have.”
  11. Raven kept her face stoic as the Sith Emperor spoke. He was very wrong and very persistent in his lies but to correct them here was not the place or time. She stood up completely straight. Her amethyst eyes staring into the cloud that was Exodus’ face. “Lord Sith, we do not represent the senate, or the Supreme chancellor. That weakness has been washed away by the terror and death you so wantonly let loose on the galaxy. We represent the hope that lives in the face of tyranny. We stopped Mandalore over Chandrila, we destroyed Black Sun and their forces as you rushed to save them. We killed the dog in spite of its master’s fury. Our strength may not be in power of arms, or a million warships. It is in hope and the careful strike. It is in this strength we will persist. Hope will outlast you.” “I think we understand each other. You lead those that butchered thousands of Prisoners of War at Onderon, and I lead those that will oppose you. Many of us will die, but we will overthrow you in time, and your stain will be wiped away like so many other God Emperors. Of whom no one now remembers their names.” Her knights inclined their heads and prepared to move against any strike that would come from the Dathomiri or the apprentice.
  12. The Imperial Knight gave a slow nod as he surveyed the three that appeared prepared to fight for the Alliance. Their hulking Trandoshani forms would not fit in the basic issued uniforms of the alliance, currently a haphazard mix of imperial armour and old shock trooper armour scavenged from the evacuated garrisons of chandrila, and sullust. The Kuati made imperial armour that most of the troops of the alliance wore, though without the helmets that took away the identities of the wearer, was a dark grey. It was newly issued and a small but efficient manufactory was pumping out new suits by the minute in the overhead docks. He pulled up his datapad and pressed a few buttons, forwarding an immediate procurement request to the quartermasters. He gestured behind him, to where a long turbolift shaft stretched towards a docking port. Where behind the enclosure sat the bulking dark triangle of an Imperial II Class Star Destroyer. The large holographic sign above the door way wrote out the Star Destroyer’s name. Montjoie It was one of the oldest in the fleet, having been laid up into reserve status during the time of Emperor Black. Then nearly scrapped during the fetid days of the Galactic Alliance, only activated by the Imperial fleet before the battle of Kashyyyk and flown to Nar Shaddaa from the scrapyards of Bilbringi. Having been refitted the warship completed a single commissioning voyage before returning for the mission to Anaxes. For which it was being stocked and refuelled in the light atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa. The blinking lights of a hundred inspection ships, crawled across the hull, as the vessel prepared to make way. “You will be outfitted enroute to the world of Anaxes where we will be assisting Commander Mythos in the evacuation of the Alliance war college there. We must be prepared to fight the Sith, or blackcloaks as you call them, should they attempt to interfere.” He waved for them to follow him and he entered the turbolift to the drydock.
  13. An interesting if warranted request, but the rebel alliance had no such worlds for inhabitation except if they could retake or scout a world that belonged to no one within reach of the Sith Empire. Perhaps that would need to be a new priority. Nar Shaddaa was rapidly filling with countless refugees as it was. The Imperial Knight nodded. “Then let us find one together. There are rooms enough and food enough before we find a world to settle. How many of your men and women are ready for combat assignment?”
  14. @Vox The Imperial Knight let his grin cut through his normally stern demeanour. “Well you have alot to learn about the galaxy then, there is an Evil Empire to defeat and a crowned queen to restore to a galactic throne.” He laughed then beckoned the man and his crew to board the transport vessel to Nar Shaddaa They would arrive at the Rebel Alliance high command processing center. ___________ An hour later the reptilian crew were met by officers and medical staff from the Mission and issued resident permits. The recruiter walked down the line, issuing paperwork to the prospective recruits, while the Imperial KNight stood near Vox. “Do you want to fight and die for a cause you know nothing about? Or does the civilian life call to you?”
  15. @Vox As the imperial knight listened to the translator droid finish its slow and methodical translation of the trandoshan he nodded slowly. He indicated to the medical crew who were pushing their way through the mix of bored and disappointed looking imperial marines. “It is my pleasure then to welcome you as refugees to the Rebel Alliance, should you wish and need it, there are medical teams for any wounds that you may have sustained during the escape, and jobs for the willing. Otherwise the rebel alliance can provide limited housing for those that need it.”
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