Exodus

LESSON "Your title and position are owed respect, my Lord. I haven't seen if you're worthy of them, but there will be time aplenty for that on the battlefield. The Sith need a stable leadership more than they need a new Lord. You will face no mutiny from me- not as things stand now, at least. On this, you have my word as a warrior." Shimmering, full-bodied hair cascaded down the strong bone structure of his face, celestial eyes sat deep behind cheekbones that angled symmetrically with an arrant nose and a broad full-lipped mouth, all of which screwed itself in careful consideration. Unyielding features of a peerless and brutish general were on rare display, features accented by a sovereign lambency that oozed from the ornate build of his fiendishly obsidian armor-plating, the face of an elysian Anzati gladiator at whose feet the wise would crawl and submit, the face of a King made in legends against conquered worlds and the open rule of the galaxy: The Dark Emperor. Rage almost surfaced onto one such face. An unruly vibration of power could have erupted and stifled the moment, stirring a mixing pot of volcanic blood and ethereal fury in his chest. His white eyes would have churned into a burning deeper than the red cresting of a dying Coruscant, empty soulless things, debasing the proud lines of brow and jaw, peeling lips back to show sharp drawn-out porcelain fangs. It never came. “Disappointing.” Flatly, the single word fell as apathetically as one could ever speak it, souring what the King had come to expect. A world-weary sigh escaped him, nostrils somewhat flaring from the heavily bored exhalation. “Words of mutiny, insurrection, and worthiness." Exodus said the words indirectly as he paced, as if tasting them for the first time, wondering why each one had felt unbalanced against his tongue. Exodus met the eyes of his lesser with the same indifference he had exerted with all that opposed him. Antipathy lurked beneath his facade of noble decorum, a cold and meticulous cunning as glacial as frostbitten steel, perusing the demeanor of the human before him. "Your validation has never been, nor will it ever, be any of my concern. It is fetching that you’ve come to believe otherwise, adorable even. But unfortunately, your respect is not a thing to be desired in the slightest, my child.” Basic was the simplest language he could use to relay his meanings to such a creature, stressing the importance of every word as if it were indeed, his very seed. Ungrateful. As if enjoying the Emperor’s stalking prowl, aberrant shadows flowed beautifully across the mapping of the Sith King. Maintenance headlights flickered a few episodes, and the silence drew menacing. It was wildly apparent that many here drew strength from the same source, the Dark Side of the Force, but none brandished such power with equal footing. The rushmore of power within the Sith Empire had many faces far more tried and tested than the machinations of an over-eager student, the unstudied would be wise to acknowledge each and every face that had paid their dues beforehand, for fear of gravely disparaging those that had paved the way. Delusions would have one quickly believe they could rival or displace the throne of the Dark Lord after they’ve bumped their chin in a few scuffles. A few bruises and victories were a far-cry to a near impeccable legacy carved from persistence and steep reverence. Such a lack of awareness was why the creature did not appreciate that it stood a mere footfall from the maw of the great Sheogorath the Insatiable. Did the human even realize just who that was? These thoughts ran through the mind of the Emperor, and swiftly by all means. Severing the head from his spine cleanly, or watching the Hutt devour the soul like marrow from hollow bones. No. No. What stood before Exodus was the equivalency of a spoiled child, a child of his own brood, broadly ignorant of what it took to manufacture such dominion. An affluent galactic estate built from nothing but rubble. From the very brink of extinction to the triumphant subjugation of the known galaxy, the entire infrastructure of this superpower was laid brick-by-brick by Lord Malacoda and his Faithful. This very fleet and the souls that crewed them, were but a gift given to divulge freedom and autonomy to his Sith kindred. Such things could be taken away, and by the snap of a finger. But he would teach this one, for he held a promise that if nurtured by the right hand, would reap wonders. To empower the young, and not castrate the lifeblood of an Empire. “You’ve mustered nothing. Nothing but arrogance and delusion it seems, for you have been given the means and the resources freely, but fail to recognize which hand provides these in abundance. Do not misunderstand, you have simply done your job Mavanger, a duty shared with the many others that have come to Kuat." Or would you have them excluded to flaunt personal glory? Exodus nodded genuinely towards apprentice Kahla for her efforts in battle, encouraging her victory for the next. Inquisitor Barca had laid the stratagem for the first round of contest between the fleets, despite criticisms, yet had stoked the flames of victory before the battle even truly began. Such efficiency garnered praise from the men that followed the beast, but even larger praise from the King himself. "..And yet, your hope is that I am to remember that you showed yourself, That you've done what is expected of you? ..Foolishness. You are strong, Mordecai. Your active presence has not gone unobserved, but you have much farther to walk. The Rebels weaken by the moment, and I have belief when you say they will be crushed underfoot. For that, you have my ear. Nevertheless, it is imperative that you become wiser than what you've shown, young warrior. Your poor choice of expression has proven less than the promise of your future, …Show me that this changes when you return victorious." The King shifted from his half-circle hounding, now disinterested in offering what he had come to propose to the promising warrior. There would be another time, depending on what side the human found himself on when the line was drawn in the sand. Exodus instead rounded towards the disguised Hutt, bowing graciously before the creature. The Emperor smiled something sinister at the stern of his bow, dangerous white-pearls stretching from ear to ear knowingly. "And you. Executioner of Jedi Master Sarna." Words fell from his mouth with silken satisfaction, snarling at the name of an arch-enemy, as he rose slowly to his full height once more. "Inquisitor Barca cannot take his eyes from the feeds of your brutish supremacy, he quite enjoys your style of aggression. Most would say they have missed it." Exodus hinted fluently, that he had indeed longed for the company of the insurmountable Krath, while adhering to the secrecy that the Hutt was maintaining. "You have honored the Sith, and the Empire in totality, with such pivotal triumphs against our sworn enemy." "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" As if signaled, the entire floor and audience shared in an explosive salute, every hooded figured, and every armored soldier, observing the great contributions put forth. "I myself, look forward to bleeding the fields of battle with you, shoulder-to-shoulder. It is time to bring our enemies what they have been dying for; an extermination the likes of which the Galactic Alliance would have begged for. Do not venture too far, the time draws near." "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" Hysteria and frenzy became infectious across the bay, heightening with the declarations of swift retribution. "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" "LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!" Honoring the hierarchy of the Sith was a key ingredient in why this dominion had lasted as long as it had, eschewing the infighting that had collapsed every rule prior in short order. There were a great many that held significant power within the ranks, many of which Lord Mavanger had yet to face, or answer to if his hubris ever sparked an affront to the efforts of others. His journey would be long and difficult, but his careful considerations of choice would dictate how far he would reach within the emerging Sith Empire. Exodus would curate each and every fighter charged to his campaign, and for now, gestures of conciliation would last only as long as his patience allowed. The Dark King of the Sith Empire turned and motioned to move through the havoc, Thralls and officers of every nature converged on his march, procuring an unimpeded path to his departure.

THE SITH ACADEMY [UNDER REVISION] • Instructors • Basic Courses & Electives • Leaving the Academy • Field Practice • Trials The purpose of the Academy is to see to the training of Acolytes/Apprentices in a concise, informative manner while both ensuring a basic understanding of the Force to newcomers and freeing up Masters to participate in the tasks of their respective Order. Instructors Instructors will be NPC’s of Master rank written by players who have achieved the rank of Master in their respective Order. Writing this training NPC is a compulsory task for everyone in the Order necessary to ensure that training of new players and characters does not slow down the larger machinations of the Order. This leaves your actual character free to see to their own development, stories, and missions for the Order. The NPC instructors should cover all of the basics apprentices are required to learn before taking trials, but the instructor you write should reflect your own special skills and knowledges. This is not only a chance to help your Order flourish and help players have a fuller learning experience, but will also help you develop how you understand and develop the way of the Force in your own writing. You could focus teaching what you are already proficient in, or take the opportunity to practice skills you are lacking in. This service will not take up as much time as you may imagine. With multiple instructors, classes will be delegated and apprentices will be grouped. As classes are completed, one instructor will wrap up the class while another prepares to start the next one. To the apprentices, learning will be consistent. To the instructors efforts will only be once in a while, and delivered in a concise and informative manner. 1) 2) 3) 4) 5) 6) 7) Basic Courses The fundamentals is a largely debated subject between instructors, which is why individual training has largely been left to the Master (exceptions may occur in the wake of extremely talented Sith Lords). This academy seeks to remedy that by establishing a baseline for everyone. These basic courses will by no means include everything an apprentice needs to take their trials. That would take away a lot from the learning process and feel cold and static for everyone involved. Instead, this Academy aims to teach 75% of the basics to streamline the process for everyone, then the remaining 25% will be finished by an actual PC Master. This will be when the apprentice leaves the academy to join their Order in the galaxy proper, beginning to take up their specializations from their Master and given a chance to practice and polish what they learned in the academy. Introductory Force Philosophy (Lecture/ Q&A) 1 Class • Connecting With the Force (Interactive) First steps & continued practice Types of Meditation 2-3 Classes • Force Sense (Interactive, Multiple) 3 Classes, starting from basic Force sense to augmenting physical senses. • Telekinesis (Interactive, Multiple) 3 Classes • Force Body (Interactive, Multiple) Classes for augmenting speed, strength, and endurance. 3 Classes total. • Lightsaber Combat (Interactive, Multiple) 2 Classes for Basics 1-3 Classes for specific Forms • Advanced Philosophy (Sith Philosophy) More difficult questions and answers, individual purpose, greater purpose. 1-2 Classes, depending on needs of student. These 15 to 19 classes form the very basics of Force training. Of course, this is just a drop in the bucket of studying the many broad aspects of the Force. In addition to these basics, the Apprentices are given the option of choosing from a few elective courses. Electives aren't required to leave the Academy and continue training with a Master, but they will give a head start on learning more complex techniques. These classes should be mixed up in a logical sense. (e.g. It doesn't make sense to teach Telekinesis before they learn to connect with the Force.) Elective Courses Elective courses are largely determined by the instructors. Remembering that some techniques will always be beyond apprentices, some instructors could establish set courses they feel themselves proficient in, or hold courses on a case by case basis when individual apprentices show interest or promise in something specific outside of the basic courses. These are a few listed examples of class delegations as well as creative courses that may fall under each one: • The Warrior Way (Lecture/ Q&A / Interactive) - Weapon Mastery / Advanced Dueling - Beastmasters - Weapon Forging - & More • The Mind of a Krath (Lecture/ Q&A / Interactive) - Elemental Manipulation - Item Enchantment / Alchemy - Necromancy - & More • Handbook of Assassinations (Lecture/ Q&A / Interactive) - Poison Manipulation - Fighting Styles / Weapon Mastery - Advanced Force Manipulation / Shadow Play - & More Leaving the Academy Completing Basics isn't enough to consider a Force user proficient. Without being able to apply said techniques under straining and ever changing circumstances, how could an Apprentice survive? This is why the remaining time before trials is spent under the watchful eye of someone from the Order who has already passed their own trials. This gives higher ranking Sith the ability to train and fulfill requirements to continue their own advancement as well as hone their own techniques by teaching their underlings. The apprentice will follow their teacher on missions and use what they have learned to the best of their ability. This time should be spent practicing the basics learned at the academy as well as learning new techniques that will lay the foundation for any specializations they want to pursue. After some time and a few missions, the teacher submits a request to the Faction leader to give trials to their apprentice. Who actually gives the trials is up to the Faction leader.

SITH EMPIRE ROUND THREE. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |7/25| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |35/25| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |0/20| _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |6/25| Combat Air Patrol Carrier: No Fly Zone |Sergeti| Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Lucrehulk Control Core (LH-1740) Eye of Opulence |3/9| MC30c frigate Tidewalker |3/3| MC30c frigate Blue Horizon |3/3| Thranta-class corvette Dawn Sentry |2/1| Thranta-class corvette Winning Hand |2/1| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 3XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| _________________________________________________________________________ Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Catastrophic Oracle Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Promised Razor: |3/9| Lamia: |3/3| Cassandra: |2/1| Sibyl: |2/1| Egeria: |2/1| Pythia: |2/1| RETREATED Tactical Support Escort: Wayward Serpent Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Temple of Vipers: |1/9| Coiled Hatred: |3/3| Nidhoggr: |1/1| Moin: |2/1| Goin: |2/1| Svafnir: |2/1| Green Precision Strike Carrier: Unforgiving Rebuke Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Myrmidon: |25/25| _________________________________________________________________________

Darkness descended. The eleventh hour drew nearer. Destruction and devastation fell like rain-water around the Imperial Battlefleet and the prestigious shipyards. Annihilation of life now seethed within this sector after yet another attempt on their way of life. Kuat had always been a place of respite. The arid landscape, the tumultuous weather, and the invigorating boon of the Dark Side of the Force were tranquilizing, principally for the hard-nosed industrialists. Rebel scum had changed that forevermore. The Drive Yards of Kuat was constructed as the beating heart of this corner of the galaxy, from which the life-blood of many civilizations and military might spilled forth. Each section of the garrisoned shipyards was designed for defense, with hundreds of chokepoints and redoubts scattered throughout the narrow winding superstructure. The marriage of Jedi and Rebel Forces, incessantly slaughtered their own faithful against the vast Imperial barricade, atomizing the bulk of their resources in the face of an undying Red Sun. The end of another rebellion played out again, across a long history of feverish feuds. What did the enemy gain? The Darkside relished in this reckless abandon, victory rhythmically drumming throughout the heart of the militia as a hunger growing unabated. This yearning would be met swiftly, and a heavy-handed reckoning would soon fall upon their enemies. However, the Emperor was not a man goaded by simple emotions. The mortal fall of weaker men was a transaction; a bartering or thinning of the herd that was necessary to inspire survival of the mighty. The weak, for the strong. Judgment was the only reason the Shadow now marched openly. With treasonous ruminations festering inside of his mind, Exodus recognized early that many from within posed as deferential allies, but equaled nothing more than bottom-feeding leeches that nursed on the affluence of an Empire built with his hands. This is why he had destroyed Raynuk Montar, and would punish Kakuto Ryu, as well as any other that dreamed they could double-cross the Sith. "What brings you aboard in our hour of victory?" The Emperor stalked the three comfortably in half-circles, carefully measuring the choice of words and tone that came from the human’s mouth. Hundreds of eyes watched with nervous uncertainty from all around as Exodus heeled dauntlessly through each and every one of them. Molten-ivories curiously dissected any hint of body language or behaviour left naked for him to see. The world was always a little unsettled wherever he tread, the reaper entreating with anything he considered a harvest. From beneath white-plastoid composite helmets, the traditional range of ceremonial black hoods, and just plain flesh-faces pulled over bone with a smattering of expressions, they watched. "I came to see for myself.." Exodus, closer now, spoke plainly. An empyreal gaze settled upon the fair lady Zendrin for a deliberate moment, glacially to the familiar Master of the Krath, and then back to the one enunciated as Darth Mavanger. In passing, he shared a knowing look with the Maw, and then his attention naturally shifted. The moment revealed no such familiarity, but this Hutt was a creature he considered a part of his brood, family from an age of Gods. Sheog was a creature that would have wrenched the spines from any and everything that stood before Exodus, bowing them to their knees exempting any form of hesitation. Suspiciously, he had disappeared for great lengths at a time, now standing across from him in the mire of fresh blood. Lord Ryu had done nearly the same. Now delusions of grandeur tickled at his mind, but for any other to know that, was an impossibility. “Mordecai. A name, among few others, enumerated to the defense of my Empire. Your superiors spoke lightly of you. Those that have fought alongside you, speak more." He moved authoritatively in his position of power, left hand massaging the ridges of his bone overlaid armor-plate while his right toyed with a terrifying Sith Blade, the tip of which angled towards the floor and to the rear of him. Exodus was quite large for an assassin, with a distinguished body of muscle embellished in long tapestries of black shadow silks and golden imperial grandiosity. A medley of brutish black and red pallets born of a Sith King and the aristocratically gold trimmings of a sworn Emperor. Spun spider silk frayed at the seams of heavy black cloak, wisping subtlety from his body as if shadows crawled from him in soft vapors. "You will report all activity directly to my council henceforth, there is no discussing the matter. For your endeavors however, I have motioned your campaign forward in totality, and by my hand alone it moves." The Emperor took another step forward, eliminating the distance between the two. "Be cautious of your next step, young warrior—" He lowered his voice to but a whisper Whether within the circle of the Emperor, or an enemy of those within it, either path represented a significant change in the power structure of the Sith Empire. Narcissistic belief was in abundance throughout the machine of the Empire, especially in the youth. There were a great many that considered themselves the next best thing, most lacking any regard for those that had laid the foundation for others to find footing within higher civilization, but Exodus had surveyed decades of such creatures fizzling out beneath the weight of their own sickening vanity. Yet and still, positions of strength would need filling from the most promising. Classes of Warriors, Assassins and the majestic Krath would need candidates to steer their expansion. Cogs within every function of the resurging Sith Empire, would need tithe and toil from those chosen by the King, and anything less than would be rooted out from it's stem. "—You and those you have become responsible for, depend on it."

The roars crawled to a room full of whispers while the shuttle released from the Destroyer and set course for the burning star. Citizens of the Sith Empire had shown en masse to pay their respects. Many among them carried faces of fury, long expressions of pain and vengeance whether or not they held a personal familiarity to those that fell to the desperation of the struggling rebellion. "Awuzi ir midwan." Unheard words in the highest of Sith dialect, purred nobly from beneath one of the many dark cloaks scattered throughout the gathering. There were other voices, other tongues sharing words with the dead, and for a moment, there was an unbreakable unity that spread through the halls like the fanning of a great flame. An oath of retribution could be heard, ringing through the heart of the dark side. Just outside of the larger viewports, they all could see their enemies turning tail and pulling back to the trails of hyperspace, retreating before the unbridling might of the true Empire. Mercilessly, the Sith Armada hunted the remnants of their derelict vessels and tore through them with an anger that the entire congregation could feel. Emotions of wildfire passion boomed through the chambers, filling all in attendance with an adrenaline spurred from the speech of a rising champion, infectiously spreading through the body of the Harrower-Class. The rest of the Armada cheered with thunderous applause for their own reasons, mattering less for what, and more that the energy spilled through the entire dominion of the Empire through communication relays. A tall man stepped from the disguise of the crowd and into the clearing, lowering the black hood covering his face as the riotous celebrations continued. The long length of his dark mane was pulled back and tied into a braid of ceremonial cloth skirting a metal-fanged half mask wrapping the lower half of jawline. King Exodus held a magnificent grandeur, while the crude scar carved through the lids of his eye, hinted at the powerful barbarism that he traded in. The Emperor was noticeably taller than most creatures surrounding him, thicker and more brutish by far judging by his imperial gait, and the way his heavy black cloak capered his ivory-bone armor chassis. Those that began to notice just who he was, shifted uncomfortably fast when the inimitable features of his appearance surfaced from the dark shadows that swam about him. "Warrior, we meet at last."

SITH EMPIRE ROUND TWO. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |13/25| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |35/25| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |13/25| _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |13/25| Combat Air Patrol Carrier: No Fly Zone |Sergeti| Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Lucrehulk Control Core (LH-1740) Eye of Opulence |9/9| MC30c frigate Tidewalker |3/3| MC30c frigate Blue Horizon |3/3| Thranta-class corvette Dawn Sentry |2/1| Thranta-class corvette Winning Hand |2/1| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 3XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| _________________________________________________________________________ Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Catastrophic Oracle Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Promised Razor: |3/9| Lamia: |3/3| Cassandra: |2/1| Sibyl: |2/1| Egeria: |2/1| Pythia: |2/1| RETREATED Tactical Support Escort: Wayward Serpent Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Temple of Vipers: |7/9| Coiled Hatred: |3/3| Nidhoggr: |1/1| Moin: |2/1| Goin: |2/1| Svafnir: |2/1| Green Precision Strike Carrier: Unforgiving Rebuke Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Myrmidon: |25/25| _________________________________________________________________________

The Emperor of the Sith Empire sat grimly within the dark cabin of his Silencer, heavy arms mantling loosely over the control deck orientations as his war vessel erupted into enemy formations. His broad-shouldered and magisterial body heaved coolly while cloaked in the draperies of Sith aristocracy and power. Dimmed light sources reflected off of his black spider spun armor-plates, but the long drawn hood over his head covered most of his semblance in a ghoulish shroud of darkness. His squadron of fighters steered the deep battlefield territorially in his likeness; as wolves that masticated any metal that did not hail the colors of their command. Point-of-view numbered these late arrivals in the hundreds, but these TIE demons draped in oily obsidian and reds were a mere dozen strong across radar calibrations. Reality was quickly distorting. “Inquisitor. The reinforcements found you well.” Cold breath left his mouth beneath a devilish tone, faintly misting his scope of vision as his machine of war punched through the opposition. “Lord Emperor? You’re—You..” The voice of the Emperor buzzed through the communications array of the Onager-Class Artillery Cruiser, God of Cinder, and much to the surprise of their stoical crew. Barca hesitated with a raised eye-brow, treading whether he should ask the question on his mind, and then burst out with estranged laughter as he realized just who he was dealing with. “Affirmative, Black Lead. There were those that held reservation on the choice of support for our task forces. But, as you see, the enemy crumbles before you now.” “I see that, Barca. Order the Armada to impede the enemy retreat. Our wolves will tear apart those left behind, for they have not learned their lesson. No mercy, Inquisitor.” The small company of TIE silencers moved in hyper-aggressive patterns, shelling and picking apart life pods without remorse. Scrambling TIE-variants swarmed the scurrying rebellion and increased their oppressive firepower, unrelenting in their efforts. Accompanying bombers laid into anything that moved without the full force of their shielding, bleeding the morality of their enemies. Over the year, these shipyards had become the most exhaustive graveyard in the Empire, and continued to swell with death as the Rebellion offered their own as cattle to the flame. Hundreds of thousands would be lost here in such a short window of time, unimpressively and unremembered. Hard judgment would passed for their transgressions against Imperial Law. As for the Sith King, he would take as many lives in this affair as was offered, while reviewing parsed information revolving Lord Mavanger, his apprentice Zendrin and the elusive Master Sheog.

Anarchy continued to erupt across the ambit of the Kuati Shipyards at a terrifying cadence. Star Destroyers thundered their firepower with destructive intent, bursting warships into pieces and boiling whatever shields stood in their path. Smaller battleships maneuvered under duress, executing far more complex flight patterns while heaving through mounting debris. The black expanse quickly became a theater of metal and death, quietly aroused by the incessant Rebellion. The communication beacons did not falter under the heightened strain of information that was divided between the war-machines of an Empire; their efficiency and discipline easily highlighted as the primary nature of their brutish domination over the years since resurgence. The Emperor King demanded this of his galactic kingdom, and those that failed this, would endure an uncompromising reproach. The cannons would drum until the fire that fueled them burned out; the legions of his military would fight until their body and mind caved to death and then push further; these worlds would not loan an inch to the seditious. From the hindquarters of the Imperial fleet line, reinforcements gushed through hyperspace. Hordes of blackened-titanium TIE variants rose sharply into the scramble, ionized gasses burning loudly through their thrust arrays, expelling a rich square-wave harmonic infamous to such Imperial powerhouses. Proximity sensors would swell, as the haunting fighter-craft flooded the battlefield. These were experimental TIE Silencers; tremendously frightening in their sudden emergence, with macabre hulls of ingratiating black. Several of these weapons of war had their frontal viewports smothered with red-painted hieroglyphs of the Spider. He was alive, the totality of the grand armada would soon realize. The Emperor had come.

Imperial Armada Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: King Exodus Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |25/25| Composition: Captain Rosa Orsaa , Commanding Officer Homeport: Arachnakorr Tours of Duty: The Xhendora-Class Dreadnought is one of the largest vessels in the Sith-Imperial Armada. So far only two vessels of the class, The Goliath, and another under construction. This advanced warship is designated as a Fleet command ship, and form the core of a line of battleships and dreadnoughts intended to counter any direct assault in Sith-Imperial Space by a large scale fleet formation. Dense, cutting edge armor, heavy shielding, reinforced hulls, and numerous other internal and external modifications make the hull one of the most rugged ever constructed to serve under the Imperial Machine. The heavy-set firepower, and thick armor make the Goliath one of the most formidable forces in known hyperspace. Direct and deliberate frontal assaults easily overpower lesser opponents. Under the Goliath's relentless assault most targets break and run, or surrender if retreat is impossible. Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |35/20| Homeport: Onderon Tours of Duty: Defense of Onderon, Black Sun Rescue, Battle of Corellia, Defense of Kuat (Hardpoint), The Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur is a change in the latest model of industry-oriented ship. Unlike it's other more offensive variants, the Minotaur is instead a bulk destroyer with enough cargo capacity to transport hundreds of millions of metric tons of cargo to whatsoever destination, at extremely high speeds and with heavy amounts of security. Truly a Star Destroyer of massive proportions, the ship dwarfs many conventional Star Destroyers in size and can almost rival the shape and size of the deadliest vessels, although this is largely due in part to the vast exchange of weaponry onboard to house more defensive units and large power cells. Although the Minotaur is more ideally suited to ferrying cargo, its incredible defensive technologies in place so that the destroyer can soak in damage and help more valuable ships to escape any sort of hostile situation. It also features very powerful ion drives that allow it to accelerate to great speeds and an advanced hyper-drive that allows it to travel at a very fast grade. All in all, the Minotaur is an extremely useful vessel for any prospering military machine, capable of housing tremendous amounts of ground forces. Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |9/9| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |3/3| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |2/1| Composition: Omega Leader • "Venom" (OM-72-0) Homeport: Kuat Tours of Duty: Omega Squadron is a TIE/vn Silencer concentrated Squadron used by the military forces of the Sith Empire, specifically operating within the Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship Typhoon . Assignment to the squadron was a coveted position awarded only to those pilots who demonstrated the highest levels of skill and unwavering loyalty to the Dark Lord Exodus. Code name Commander Venom found his footing early on after his rumored resurrection, but the promise of what he once fought for had completely fallen apart. The Imperial Remnant ran a course that betrayed not only their allies, but their fundamental ideals. The faction severed at the body, and an extraordinary number of defects found their way to the Covenant of the Spider. It was clearer by the moment that he had one purpose, and that mission was to restore the eminence of the Omega Squadron. He would outfit his company with the most prolific pilots scattered within the brotherhood, and specifically hone those that wielded a connection to the force. To the Outer Rims, in secrecy, the squadron would rule and conquer; growing harder and more exceptional as they filtered and trimmed their ranks against the harshness of the uncharted worlds. Omega Squadron consisted of 12 Elite TIE/vn Silencers, starfighters crafted specifically for extreme maneuverability and hyper aggressive combat. In addition to the set crew, Omega Squadron had reserve pilots that were rigorously competing to replace or refill vacancies. Their research and silent battle-meld with current members left these reserves far ahead of the curve. The Silencer Fighters of Omega Squadron were decorated with a black and red pattern of forked stripes, and the pilots wore matching flight suits and helmets. As Omega Leader, the commanding fighter was decorated with a unique chevron pattern, and his flight helmet featured a red, stylized skull on the brow. Covert Strike Force Commander: Exodus Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Unidentified Stealth Cruiser, REAVER Composition: Captain Alvaro Correra , Commanding Officer, Lieutenant Commander Corey Seidling. Homeport: Umbara Tours of Duty: This Stealth Cruiser is a heavily armed and independent operation vessel. They are intended to patrol the conflict prone fringes of Sith-Imperial occupied space. They are heavily armed with multiple heavy bay weapons. They often engage groups of raiders, and scouts attempting to penetrate their patrol routes to reach prioritized settlements, or respond to attacks on shipping and isolated facilities. Usually operating alongside other task forces for added protection against fighters, the Stealth Ship is often deployed for several months at a time before it is relieved by another vessel. During these patrols the ship will transit to multiple systems and set up ambushes along trouble prone routes or near key systems in it's area of operation. The captain has wide discretion in their routes, tactics, and when to engage ships belonging to hostile factions. While multiple patrols may pass between actions, these stealth cruiser squadrons are among the most daring vessels in the Sith-Imperial Fleet. Due to the long duration of typical patrols the Reaver is equipped with workshops, hangers, and training areas for the crew. This does limit the amount of ordnance, and armor the ship can carry however, the heavy firepower of the vessel is sufficient to eliminate all but the largest raiders and scouting vessels that it might encounter. Artillery Battery: Incendiary Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Onager-Class Artillery Cruiser, God of Cinder |10/20| Imperial II-Class Frigate, Gremlin |3/3| Raider-Class Corvette, Goblin |2/1| Raider-Class Corvette, Goon |2/1| With escalating terrorist uprisings facing the Sith Empire and their Kuati space, the Sith Armada determined that a front line artillery cruiser would be needed to help shore up and defend the fledgling borders. The Onager-Class Warship comes from the same lineage as other Imperial Navy vessels, ancient Sith designed brought up to modern standards and deployed at haste across the Kuat Sector under the direct supervision of Inquisitor Barca. Engineering Support Cluster: Bucket Brigade (Chariot) Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Providence-Class Carrier, Blood Merchant |9/9| Interceptor-Class Frigate, Maiden |3/3| Interceptor-Class Frigate, Iron Moth |3/3| Interceptor-Class Frigate, Little Wasp |3/3| Raider-Class Corvette, Left Hand |2/1| Raider-Class Corvette, Right Hand |2/1| In many regards, the Blood Merchant was a wholly automated vessel that was capable of carrying out the most simplistic tasks without any oversight. Developed by the various minds within the Pyramid of Production and Logistics, the modified Providence-Class Carrier; Blood Merchant, was designed to operate as a large-scale operations vessel, that would widely ferry resources and service droids within their holds down to the surfaces of planets or tasked ships within their fleet. The Blood Merchant was a Cruiser-Carrier that consisted of many detachable containers that surrounded a Central Command and Deployment Unit. These indexable cargo holds were designed to be highly fluid in how they were distributed across fleets or planets, allowing the onboard artificial intelligence to accommodate a vast array of resources, or various articles of aerospace design to be delivered and configured with haste. If the configuration was geared towards the ferrying, where precious items of cargo needed to be safely stored and transported, the Blood Merchant would be able harbor an extraordinary amount of raw resources and would sacrifice it’s internal storage space to do so, eliminating the need for sentient perishables. If the Blood Merchant was geared towards ferrying repair drones, then the configuration of the indexable containers would be outfitted to maximize their internal storage capacity, whilst retaining the automated unloading systems to prime execution. Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Colossus |35/25| Commissioned by the Ministry of Defence, the Colossus, a Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer was the newest creation of the Imperial Engineering Corps and brother to the Minotaur. It was a warship that was designed to wrest control of the space-lanes from hostile forces, and compel them into compromising positioning while acting as sword and shield to allied forces. Through the inclusion of the Colossus, the Imperial Defense Force would be capable of policing their territory more efficiently, locking down hostiles and forcing them to comply with their brilliant array of cannons. The Warship would also assist the conscripted Enforcement Agencies as they fought against Smuggling Operations and Pirate Raids that were common on the fringes of their territory, turning their ships and their resources into spoils of war. _____________________________________________________________________________________

SITH EMPIRE ROUND ONE. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |19/25| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |35/25| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |19/25| _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |19/25| Combat Air Patrol Carrier: No Fly Zone |Sergeti| Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Lucrehulk Control Core (LH-1740) Eye of Opulence |9/9| MC30c frigate Tidewalker |3/3| MC30c frigate Blue Horizon |3/3| Thranta-class corvette Dawn Sentry |2/1| Thranta-class corvette Winning Hand |2/1| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 3XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| _________________________________________________________________________ Advanced Warfighter Cadre: Catastrophic Oracle Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Promised Razor: |3/9| Lamia: |3/3| Cassandra: |2/1| Sibyl: |2/1| Egeria: |2/1| Pythia: |2/1| Tactical Support Escort: Wayward Serpent Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Temple of Vipers: |9/9| Coiled Hatred: |3/3| Nidhoggr: |1/1| Moin: |2/1| Goin: |2/1| Svafnir: |2/1| Green Precision Strike Carrier: Unforgiving Rebuke Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Myrmidon: |25/25| _________________________________________________________________________ Zloth'cal'duorii stopped his sip cold. He felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand up, curious to the particulars of the scene laid out before him; Rebel Alliance curs mating with the nefarious Crusaders. One force had blatantly sidestepped their duty to protect, while the other force snuck into Coruscant like rats and plundered the innocent. The two had found marriage, and emboldened their honeymooning by declaring for Fondors' ship-assembling operations. Zloth'cal'duorii emerged from his office and toward the set of stairs that would bring him to the first level. When he spoke aloud, it was with the diluted accent of someone who'd been speaking their second language far longer than the one in which they were born with. "FleetCom, send to all active ships to prepare for Contingency Amber, the Fondorions will bolster our ranks." "Yes Admiral," a Lieutenant at the primary communications section answered, relaying orders to his enlisted subordinates to begin transmitting orders. As the order was sent, the system processed the newly-received report from the listening post and plotted the approximate location of the Rebel-Crusader force on the holo-map. Heavy fire belted across smaller task groups within the theater of war, but the Imperial Forces knitted tightly in formation, exuding supernatural poise. Clusters of TIE variants strangled the airspace, braiding their spatial patterns between wreckage and large masses of warships. Zloth'cal'duorii was silent, staring intently at the glowing Sith-Imperial symbol in the depth of the holographic map. "Pay attention to your stations," he said in firm, deliberate tones. "Show no mercy."

ABILITIES (Under construction) DARK WEAVER / UMBRAL MYSTICISM (sith shadow magic; from the realization that shadows are a reflection of forces in conflict and that manipulating a shadow can influence the forces that cast it) D A R K W E A V E R Chapter "Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. It has called out my name. Darkness approaches. I feel no light inside me strong enough to resist it." ― assassin TO BECOME (END GAME MASTERIES) Zûtanokiai (dark, to become) "A darkweaver can create, shape and manipulate darkness and shadows. By itself, darkness is mostly used to cloud everything into total darkness, but by the accessing the dark side of the force, a dimension of dark energy can be channeled and tethered to a variety of effects, both as an absence of light and as a solid substance: one can also control and manipulate the beings that exist there, create and dispel shields and areas of total darkness, create constructs and weapons, teleport one's self through massive distances by way of shadows, and more." SOURCE: Netherworld of the Force / Chaos / Abyss Channel Oblivion: The Reaper Edict Allows a Darkweaver to control and influence the energies pertaining to death and shadow. This extremely rare class manipulates entropy, a force that even the most studied cannot harness. A distinct maturation of the Assassin genealogy, the Edict makes a formidable complement to the wide scope of death-dealing expertise of the assassin, and those obsessed with mastery over death and shadows. While some of its uses relate to the denizens of the Abyss, many of its powers allow the Darkweaver to draw literal oblivion into the physical world. The signature power of the Darkweaver grants them the power over darkness itself. The nature of the darkness invoked by the Darkweaver is a matter of intense speculation among the Sith. Some believe it to be merely shadows, while others feel that the power gives control over the Netherworld of the Force, coaxing it tangibly outward. Regardless, the effects of the Darkweaver are terrifying, as waves of darkness roil out from the user, enveloping those in their path like an infernal wave. Dimensional Overrun Darkweaver can passively create or project shadows and darkness which absorbs or nullifies light in the area. Has an aura of pitch black darkness that permeates their armor or clothing, and surrounds them, flowing out and off of them like it was made of water, which consumes any light near their body. Kirzi na Rumakata Kinta (Darkshear, Spear of Midnight Black) The Darkshear, also known as the spear of midnight black, was a dark side Force power. It enabled the Force-user to summon raw energy entirely from the Dark Side of the Force, forging an archaic stygian weapon in the form of a majestic spear. For combat purposes, the qualities of this weapon is likened to that of Sith Steel. ELIXIR "The emphasis on preparation and maximizing efficiencies is an aide to the penultimate assassin, a creature supremely vested in the concentration of battle execution." TBA BREATHING Weaver Assassin Breathing Techniques "Controlling breathing patterns during heightened levels of stress and exertion is a basic principle that is rigorously taught to the assassin. Disciplined learners can maximize their burn of stamina, tremendously increase their lung capacity, and embody an unteachable level of creativity in the heat of battle." TBA NEXUS TBA THE OTHER SIDE Akirjoki na Niyidna (Court of Devils) Chaos, Netherworld of the Force— Time spent here is significantly slower, hours passing by equaling only minutes in the present. You close your eyes in reality, and awaken in a world that is an impeccable recreation of the place you were just in. The exception is that, this world is grievously lacking in any trace pigmentation of color; aggressively depressing neutral hues blush every-which corner, inky blackness stains the walls and floors while an unshakable fog smothers visibility. Light is forever eclipsed in Chaos, seemingly lost to a rotting darkness. Entering the Netherworld is less a studied art, and more of a windfall. When enough of the dark side of the force saturates the blood of a dark practitioner, a brush with death may be enough to purchase a ticket here. Admission takes a tremendous toll of fatigue and mental disorientation on the weaver once returned. To activate this travel henceforth is a scarce power; harmonizing mental acuity throughout the body of one familiar with the nether-realm by means of meditation, allows the darkweaver to enter the Netherworld of the Force physically. Wraiths, Sithspawn and tempestuous spirits inhabit these lands in innumerable hordes. Creatures and spirits within the Netherworld are dramatically more powerful than in the present. They cannot be defeated and maiming them is rare, but if done, their bodies reform after a short delay and do so rapidly. When entering, your living aura becomes like an unavoidable scent on a most powerful wind, the assassin becomes a beacon to the fallen and is hunted incessantly. The dead are impossibly begrudging of the living and none can avoid drawing the attention of the brutality that lives there for long. Furthermore, when commanding the Force inside of the Netherworld, your living aura illuminates like a bright star, empowering you significantly but guaranteeing death when you ultimately fall. Darkweavers present in the Netherworld of the Force (Chaos) are subject to all of the perils that come with it, not excluding ultimate destruction. Suffering physical wounds and death is felt entirely within the Netherworld, removing the living from the land thereafter. In present time, the maiming and death from the Netherworld translate to diminished phantom-pain and slight mental afflictions, as long as you do not draw from the Force while inside. Darkweavers that draw from the Force and are killed in the realm of the dead are gone forever, beyond even the reach of those that can raise the dead. (Non-PVP) BLADEMASTER TBA HUNTER TBA CURSES Armohta an ri Tsûduma (Anchor to the Dead) Ephemeral Binding, Transcendance, the Reaper Walks Must be able to enter the Akirjoki na Niyidna (Court of Devils) Must consume Black Blood Elixir in order to select a host Transcend Death, Infinite Resurrection, Retroactive Immortality The most formidable of weavers learn not only to sense the connections between the living and the dead, but to brick-lay and create such links themselves and enter immortality with the power to transcend the limitations of one's death. Unlike other forms of immortality, the Darkweaver may still die from any cause (physical trauma, disease or simply aging, etc), but the user may always come back to life, unless they choose not to. The master of Armohta an ri Tsûduma creates a totemic structure within the Netherrealm of the Force as a depository for their own living aura through necromantic energy, establishing a solemn bridge between the Nether and Mortal realm. Among the living, the Darkweaver will mark creatures of life as potential hosts while they sleep unaware, cursing them to an end they almost never see coming. This undying Curse transforms the subject into a sacrificial linkage between the living and dead, unifying with the totemic structure buried within the Netherworld. The Darkweaver smears their own imbibed blood on the sentient creature in question, which is accursedly absorbed into their vitae, in doing so, becomes an anchored host body for the Darkweaver. This term is coined as a Spectral Assimilation. An anchored curse artificially created in this fashion functions as an infectious energy that assimilates the physiological nature and soul of the creature over time, and crudely digests their entire life force once needed. The host creature becomes vaguely attuned to their master, and in certain circumstances, can dangerously wander into the psyche of the Darkweaver. A curse created with such a binding lasts until the Darkweaver suffers death. Death will treat the anchor as an expenditure, and the totem within the Netherworld will hum alive in activation. The physical body of the Darkweaver will immediately disperse into a flume of thick black vapors upon a death blow, and the soul will tarry for six cycles within Chaos until their spirit is displaced inside of the host body. Depending on the perspectives, this may be seen as a cursed state that eternally separates an individual from a universal salvation or truth. Over time the bone structure and flesh morphs according to the needs of the Sith Darkweaver, and the host's memories rapidly begin fading away while the Sith's own begin creeping in. They are aware enough before total consumption to realize the horror of what is happening but are exhaustively unable to stop it. This may very well cause certain Sith to go insane due to the extensive physical and mental trauma of continually returning to life in such agonizing ways, especially mentally when the world begins to change dramatically over time (loved ones dying, entire civilizations coming and going, etc). Replaces cloning, and the respawn count is six cycles.

The orchestra of battle drew alive with each second. Warships spewed quickly from the black of space, dangerously organized in masses of dreadful firepower. The Fondorians native to the planet understood that the anarchist rebellion would surface soon, as their treasonous campaign had unraveled predictably. It was still surreal to them, to see so much death across the holo-networks, just as the Imperials had wrestled order and justice from the indolent hands that had held them falsely before. The trembling power of the fear-wrought Dreadnought Goliath, and the herculean Gladiator-Class Minotaur, brushed through the footbridge of hyperspace with something to say about such sacrilege. Accompanying the formation was a hungry host of fighters and an infamous Star Destroyer that had not appeared since the fall of Master Qaela. The Herløv, dressed in full glory alongside the forward command, roamed supremely onto the scene. “The Emperor would have us remove this scum. What say you, brothers and sisters of the Imperial High? Let us show them the consequences of their treachery.” The voice purred cooly, swimming through the command channels, coercing his allies to dangerous ambition. Formations settled sure-footedly, as was the way of with Imperial discipline and efficiency. Their punishment would be swift. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |25/25| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |35/25| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |25/25|

P O W E R _______________ =========================== Core Chart =========================== ALTER Alter Image Alter Environment Dark Transfer Dopplegänger Drain Life / Drain Force / Drain Knowledge / Death Field / Consume Essence Dreamscape / Mind Trick / Mind Shard / Neural Storm / Memory Walk / Force Fear / Force Horror / Force Insanity Force Illusion Force Phantoms Force Weapon Flamusfracta · Transfer Essence Hatred Phase * CONTROL Sith Battle Meditation Dark Rage Breath Control Mind Control Telekinesis / Force Repulse / Projected Fighting / Force Shockwave Force Destruction Force Choke (Variants) Force Speed Force Body Force Deflection Resist Poison/Disease (Nurgle) Mechu-Deru (Darkweaver Variation) Sever Force SENSE Force Smell / Force Hearing / Force Sight Force Trace / Telemetry Prima Vita (Life Detection) Telepathy Shadow Vision Shift Sense / Combat Sense Tactus Otium Sith Magic Force Lightning (Unnatural Black Hue; All variants) Sith Alchemy / Artifact Creation Sutta Chwituskak (Darkshear) Tsaiwinokka Hoyakut (Reanimated Dead) Odojinya (Dark Webs) Dark Side Tendrils Force Blast Waves of Darkness Qazoi Kyantuska (Suppress Thought / Control Mind) Miscellaneous Touch of the Kiin'Dray Combat Form I - Shii-Cho Form II - Makashi Form III - Soresu Form IV - Ataru Form V - Shien / Djem So Form VI - Niman /Jar'kai Form VII - Juyo / Vaapad Dun Möch Jar'Kai Sokan =========================== Unique Power Chart =========================== [Overview & In-depth] Alter Abilities Duelist’s Cloak: An illusion power that focuses on concealing rather than deceiving, the duelist’s cloak let’s the assassin conceal his or her footwork and core stance behind a flowing illusionary robe that leaves them their full range of movement. (Fire & Smoke) Phantom Step: When the assassin dodges or disengages, for a split second multiple illusionary instances diverge in probable directions and maneuvers to foil attempts to predict the assassin, lead shots, or score attacks of opportunity. OOC( I want to emphasize again the brevity of the illusion here to specify that this is not to create a mid duel shell game, rather just to increase survivability while disengaging an enemy.) Shadow Step: The assassin is adept at manipulating their weight and center of balance, allowing them to move silently and traverse over loose material like snow instead of through it. Particularly skilled practitioners can use this power to walk on the surface of fluid bodies. Blood Echo: The assassin can cut them-self and use the blood to broadcast a false ping of their presence in the Force. The range of this power is roughly twenty meters, and it pairs well with throwing knives. Dreamscape -- was a Force projection that placed an opponent in a world created in the mind of the wielder. The illusion was often broken when the opponent tried to break through it, but until that time, it appeared to them to be entirely real. Void -- A Void in the Force, or Force Blank, was a rare and nearly unheard of phenomenon, in which a living entity seemed to be fully nonexistent in The Force. Such a being could neutralize his appearance and aura so completely that those who met him could not recall what he looked like. Phase (Exclusive) -- It is accessible depending on the immediate knowledge of his surroundings. If he is in the confines of a place he has no bearing on, then it would take concentration/meditation/focus to wrap his mind around the layout of the environment in order to slip between the fabric of certain barriers/metals/walls. This lends to escaping confinement, sneaking, assassinations, etc. However, if the surrounding area is unknown to him, he can't quite possibly know what lies on the other side without exemplary focus/meditation/foresight. So in combat, he cannot tap into the skill. However, if the place is familiar and the area is versed, the slip is easier to manage but can't be like stepping in and out of a regular doorway. To forcefully push his collection of mass through another mass would push considerable strain depending on the width of the 'barrier' in question. The 'vector' of the mass that is tapped into would react as a pool of water to the touch of a finger. To the onlooker it'd appear as if it were mere illusion, but it would be a definite passing through matter. Consume Essence-- Also known as Dark Side Feed, was a Force power that allowed a dark side Force-user to feed on the fear, hatred, or other negative emotions of others to make himself more powerful. It did not matter why the others were filled with dark emotions; the feelings alone would suffice. Force Body -- was a type of Force technique which allowed any Force-sensitive to push their body's endurance past a safe limit, ignoring and sacrificing their health and well-being in order to sustain their connection to the Force. Very powerful connection to the Force was required for this ability's use. With this, a Force User could live through what would otherwise kill them. This ability could also be used to prevent the user from being severed from the Force Dopplegänger -- or Similfuturus, was a Force power that allowed a user to create a perfect illusion of him- or herself through the Force. The ability could also be used to duplicate objects that were visually indistinguishable from the real item. The Force user could perceive all of the dopplegänger's senses, and to those interacting with it, the dopplegänger seemed real. The user could even interact with the world using telekinesis to move objects, furthering the believability of the illusion. The dopplegänger could also be detected by all droid audio and video sensors. The dopplegänger would fade away if the Force user was injured and ceased using the power. Mind War -- One of the Sith's most proud traditions is the art of invading another's mind. Finding thoughts, ideas, locations, intents in a mind, these are all things that the Sith can learn to do, but to change things in the minds of others takes a skilled Assassin. Deception, lies, false memory implantation, forced amnesia and total brainwashes are all known practices of the Master Mind Warrior. A Truth Amidst Ten Thousand Lies: The assassin floods the Force with thousands of potential strikes to conceal one attack that lacks any kind of Force guidance, making the attack both less accurate and less likely to be deflected by Force users. Control Abilities Sudden Reversal: The assassin uses the Force to form an invisible barrier momentarily for them to springboard off of, allowing rapid changes in direction, aerial course correction, and otherwise impossible maneuvers like double jumps. This power can also be used to reduce falling impact by breaking the descent into multiple segments rather than a long fall. Storm Dash: With a powerful burst of TK energy, the assassin flings themself in a direction of their choosing. This power allows the assassin to change direction or misdirect opponents easily, but is more draining than sudden reversal. Sensory Abilities Punish the Weak: By probing through the Force, the assassin determines which opponent is most vulnerable to being overwhelmed quickly. This should not be treated as a variation of Shatterpoints, as it does not reveal how to strike or guide the attack, it’s simply sizing up opponents through preternatural abilities. Sith Magic Traditionally, Sith magic, also known as Sith sorcery, was an arcane expression of Force ability first developed and practiced by the original Sith species through which they manipulated the power of the dark side. The very name of the Sith was adopted by the Dark Jedi Exiles of the Hundred-Year Darkness, who combined Sith mysticism with their own experiments into dark side power to create even more strange rituals and alchemical sciences. Sith magic, while as much a part of the dark side as endowments like Force lightning, was accessible only to those Force-sensitives who possessed an intrinsic relationship with the dark side. Through the recitation of spells, execution of hand gestures, and or the handling of various artifacts, darksiders were able to channel the raw power of the Force's malignant side to warp minds, alter the environment, and obliterate whatever obstacles stood in their way. Shadow Lash: The assassin relies on distraction and controlling the battlefield, and this application of illusion exemplifies their ability to strike unexpectedly at range. The lash that the Sith appears to conjure allows them to deliver painful strikes with considerable reach. While the pain is illusionary, that makes it no less vicious to the senses of anyone struck. A Sith Lord can create more complex illusions where the lash touches, especially if it entangles a limb or weapon. Flesh might bubble or become covered in cancerous lesions, or weapons may rust and crack, it’s all a matter of personal preference. Combat Treacherous Blade: This fighting style focuses on baiting, redirection, and punishing enemy attacks. To the untrained eye it may seem like a reactive style, but in truth the Sith is controlling the flow of the duel by feigning vulnerability and drawing out strikes. The style lends itself to parrying weapons and off hand strikes, along with limited special armor use on the hands and feet. While many techniques of the style can be used in full armor, true mastery requires freedom of movement, speed, and maximum awareness. Hidden Path: With so many Sith assassins using concealed weapons it was inevitable that a style would develop that catered to their usage. Hidden Path is a precision fighting style that achieves victory by systematically crippling the opponent. Depending on the weapon, Hidden Path will target joints, arteries, and pressure points until the enemy is unable to effectively retaliate and a killing blow can be struck. Poisonous Little Death: As the name suggests, this style focuses on poison usage, almost always as the opener. Rather than endeavor to deliver a killing blow, the intent is to distract the victim from getting help or otherwise neutralizing the poison, while also pushing the heart to beat faster and therefore spread the poison more quickly. The style is acrobatic and ostentatious, relying both on physical theatrics and illusion to harry and startle the victim into a state of reactionary panic. Spiral Ghost Dance: An evasive style that has the assassin perpetually engaging and disengaging to capitalize on advantageous moments and prevent the enemy from pressing any sort of attack. If the enemy is skilled in close quarters combat, the assassin keeps distance and distracts or throws off the the enemy’s balance with throwing knives or lanvarok disks, only closing when the enemy is overwhelmed. If the enemy is a ranged combatant then they are given no room to breathe as the assassin dogs them relentlessly. K I N G W E A V E R ( D A R K ) Channel Oblivion: The Reaper Edict Allows a Darkweaver to control and influence the energies pertaining to death and shadow. This extremely rare class manipulates entropy, a force that even the most studied cannot harness. A distinct maturation of the Assassin genealogy, the Edict makes a formidable complement to the wide scope of death-dealing expertise of the assassin, and those obsessed with mastery over death and shadows. While some of its uses relate to the denizens of the Abyss, many of its powers allow the Darkweaver to draw literal oblivion into the physical world. The signature power of the Darkweaver grants them the power over darkness itself. The nature of the darkness invoked by the Darkweaver is a matter of intense speculation among the Sith. Some believe it to be merely shadows, while others feel that the power gives control over the Netherworld of the Force, coaxing it tangibly outward. Regardless, the effects of the Darkweaver are terrifying, as waves of darkness roil out from the user, enveloping those in their path like an infernal wave. Dimensional Overrun Kirzi na Rumakata Kinta (Darkshear, Spear of Midnight Black) Akirjoki na Niyidna (Court of Devils) Armohta an ri Tsûduma (Anchor to the Dead) Character skills Hunter (Master) Weapons Master Survivalist (Master) Acrobat (Master) High Intelligence Dark Side Transformation Sith Magic Capabilities Projection Immense Strength Immense Endurance Master Combatant Vast Political Power

At each exit, hundreds of stormtroopers anxiously beat their feet against metal in rhythm. Hundreds, if not thousands marched with heavy stomps while they stood in place, banging their bodies into the floors so that the intruders could hear them and fill them with fear. Boom, boom, boom. The uproarious drumming came in threes, echoing from the northern hatch, beaming from the southern hatch, while booming through the ventilation much louder. Lust of the blood sunk into their strange stupor as the Dark Lord raged with power within the confines of this trapped passageway. Armiena Draygo and Kakuto Ryu were threadbare; blinded and deafened by their own recklessness, repeatedly misfiring munitions, only to the detriment of themselves. Exodus stood invisible among them, armor camouflaged to the shadows that lived here. They were smothered by the smoke, and the blackness, and the loosened shrapnel they had foolishly detonated. Draygo had managed to darken this place further as she cut into the control panel, hindering her vision beyond the point of her natural sight. Their arms were ruined, their bodies bled profusely from the acute pain of their wounds. Their assaults were uncoordinated and conflicted with each other, as the space between them was manipulated to capitalize on their disorientation. Lightning had riddled them, even so far as disabling limbs needed to confront a skilled duelist close-quarters. Hallucinations and shadows only mired their minds beyond the point of hope, forcing them to see the error of their arrival. How was it that they had come for victory? How was it, that in their mounting errors, they could succeed? They came without intention, or purpose, and had stumbled all over the field of battle. Outside intervention smiled upon low-hanging fruit, the weakest of studies that he had faced within the Jedi Order. The King levitated slowly, suspenseful as he leaned into the air above and the force bubbled all around his body. Power, unmitigated and growing in size, hammered the area about him. Unraveling like an angry storm, the telekinetic maelstrom lashed out with nasty licks of electrical crackles, first spilling out in dance ahead of him, but then snapping into the bodies of his opponents. Like spears, the energy crashed around them and threatened to disintegrate them each time they struck. The power was enough to melt their clothing, cook their flesh, and send their carcasses into nervous seizures. The former lead warrior was hit and was sent skidding into the distance. Kakuto foamed at the mouth, powerless to his body entering complete shock, dashing the metal he had collected into pieces all across where he lay. Exodus' eyes went completely white, just as the demon moon did on a clear night sky. His body moved now, ghostly and quick enough to leave a trail of blur in the twisting maelstrom. With vampiric oppression, Dark King Exodus powered forward and immediately closed the distance that remained between the Jedi Master and his ominous form. It took no more than a breath, while the telekinetic force that submerged them all still fluttered with untamed debris. Gauntlet of metal and power latched onto the Jedi’s wrist as she swung wildly within the dangerous kill radius of the assassin. The natural weight of his body continued to drive the two back into the black until they were pushed up against the wall. He snapped the brittle bone immediately, loosening her grip into sudden dysfunction. The sound of her wrist and the higher edges of her forearm caving in on itself was sickly. Her blade deactivated and fell with a hollow chatter against the floors. Exodus pinned her where he wanted, with his other arm cleanly wrapped around the cusp of her throat, lifting her from her feet, bringing her face to his. Her eyes were a pale green, heroism and ignorance swam in them as she choked against the lift and tightness of his grasp. She had a face that was justly meek, unimpressive but rounded proportionately to supplement her prominent cheekbones. Armiena was a Jedi, as they would have molded any other from scratch, lifeless and shackled to a journey of self-abnegation. Exodus was in comparison, a monster before her. Natural brawn fleshed him out, widening the shadows he casted over her body, while hauntingly taller than she ever could be. He let go of the second arm to fail Draygo, and let it fall uselessly to her side. Exodus was now free to pull his helmet from his head to reveal his face for the first time in this battle. It would not mean much, for his identity was loosely covered in this era of the galaxy, much less so in one's before. Still, brighter and more enriched eyes of green locked onto hers, while the color reflected in his own seemed to struggle with a sizzling red flush that wished for nothing more than to take over. Anger, one that was uncoiled under the pretense that this Draygo was the one to rob the galaxy of Master Oblivion, and now attempted to enslave the husk of Ryu. The keeper of my brothers. His hair was darker yet, oily obsidian and much longer. He watched her closely under strife, sensing the oxygen cut from her throat as he squeezed. ".. Closer." He spoke the word with a whisper as the maelstrom behind them curved into nothing beneath his command. His breath fell upon her skin, dourly sweet and enriched from natural Umbaran cloves mixed inside the waters of his recovery chamber. The strange leaf incited mania if eaten raw, but broken down into mixtures, it stirred the body to awaken harder than any unnatural stimulant. His eyes showed this to her, fiery psychostimulant matched with emerging hatred, scarred emeralds writhing and washing with an igneous range of color. Whether it was her, or the sound of the name of her family, he would avenge the soul that never rose again. The smell of her filled his nostrils; bittersweet iron, lathered blood, clammy with sweat. Exodus brought his face closer now, brushing his cold nose against hers, opening his mouth ever-so-slightly. Fangs drew from the split in his lips, porcelain canines exposed as he fixed his mouth for an embracing kiss. Did she know who he was now? Could she identify him? Or did the madness of the Jedi have them running into the dark, blissfully unaware. He paused motion just as his top lip brushed against her bottom lip, but she was wrestling for air, mouth stretched too wide for romance. Her stifled struggle roused him in ways beyond lust, enticing his fingers to crawl into her flesh. The clamp on her hardened still, revealing long and desperate lines of veins that shot up through her neck, passing her boney chin. Her chest heaved, her torso and legs jerked for freedom. She hung there as a prisoner, strangling slowly and at a pace in which Exodus could watch every emotion pass her by. Then, a smile ran eerily across his face, from ear to ear and he listened to life buck from her heart. He opened his mouth wide now, erasing any hint of pleasure from his face as if there had never been any in the first place, He remained uncomfortably close, as close as she had tried to be before the climax of this battle. Close enough to bite. Inhaling deep, and with a vacuuming echo, Exodus literally drank the life force of the Jedi Master. The longer he pulled his deep inhale, the wider and more open his mouth became— viciously hauling the soul from her bones. The absorption was so intense that her muscles began to dehydrate and shrivel within moments, her eyes would reel and tug into the back of her skull, and her body would open more fiercely to the wounds that plagued her uselessly in this battle. He would take her for everything she had, everything that she had brought to him. _________ But suddenly, the world shuddered. Viciously, consciousness became a nauseating blur. His mind and his vision shook beyond sight, and the world spun, and spun, until nothingness colored in the spaces that were there just moments before. A dream, perhaps. But then was this hell? This abyss yawned for a great stretch, whispering to him slowly at first, but then hurriedly in what he could only explain as scratches burrowing into eardrums. The dream was interrupted. Exodus woke up in an asylum. His eyes were the heaviest they've ever been, his eyelashes were bonded with blood and mucus that seeped from either ducts . His awareness was questionable at best, unrealized whether this was the demon world or present time. After dark on the first day, it was Iyamara who cut the blood-mucked leather ties that fastened Exodus to the medical slab. She slid a butterfly blade between the straps and his torn skin, easily cutting through, covering the blade with a running scarlet moisture. Exodus’ left hand fell free but Iyamara caught it by the forearm, placing his arm against the still intact metal plates on his body, and carefully bending it at the elbow. The matter was slow, and inevitably painful, but she inevitably pressed onward. When all the bindings were cut and trimmed, Iyamari moved to lift the limp body into her arms, trying to somehow leverage the brawny weight of the Dark Lord onto her, to seat him upright. This Sephi, she was strong and cunning beyond her years, but found an uneasy challenge in bearing the physicality of the man before her. She did not shy from her task. Iyamari stroked his lower lip with her thumb and gently parted his mouth. Exodus lay motionless, awake but blank and unreadable even as her finger snuck between his teeth. At least his fangs were in order. The lips were covered with tiny abrasions from dehydration; cracked and covered with dark spots of blood. Simpler men and women had tried their hand at treating the dangerously over-worked leader of the free Sith, but their minds and bodies were devoured by proximity alone, of a sweltering dark side nexus residing inside of the King. Allies, champions of his order, none of them had come to offer their hand. This was the unfortunate truth of an Empire born from grit, a penchance for survival and a relentless conquering. You either stood tall, or you were forgotten. “Drink,” Iyamara whispered. She lifted the wooden bowl to his lips and poured the brown-tinctured anesthetic down his throat. Smells of deep open wounds, burnt leathers, and raw bark were mixed with the cologne of sour herbs. Iyamara put down the bowl and turned, intending an alternative to call the witches to pretreat the surface wounds, but a clumsy hand fell heavily on her forearm. Exhausted fingers tightened and pulled her back to his makeshift bed. Exodus scanned the room in which he lay from under eyelids that weighed much more than he ever remembered. Iyamara could sense him recover more and more over the days she had spent with him, knowing that as he had awakened at last, times would change yet again. "Alone?" Exodus croaked through hoary lungs. His neck and shoulders held tightly knotted muscles, so he chose to rely on her reconnaissance instead. Iyamara Moon leaned towards him, inhaling his scent. As he slumbered, she operated with such riveting fear of who and what the man was, constantly shoving those thoughts from her mind as she provided care. Yet now that he spoke, and had eyes that searched about wildly, the anxiety began to shudder through her as winter chills. “Yes,” She managed. A surprised understanding flared inside of his deep sunken eyes. His pain and confusion were such that he, apparently, could not remember the exact sequence of events, was not sure if the plan to turn Ryu had been a success or if it was all a pain-induced hallucination. He had been spending time inside of a world that was not this one, in a reality that was much darker than the one he had lived in for years. It was changing him, slowly of course, but in what ways he could not be sure of. His slumbering meditations took him there, and he was invited by a host of creatures that jealously sought to keep him there and tear him to shreds. As black as his soul had turned, they wished to engorge themselves on it and return to a place of the living. The Anzati Elders only spoke of such things in tales to frighten the children from misgivings, but he now walked among them, or he was losing his mind altogether. His hand gripped her arm softly, compelling the truth from her. It was not the soft touch of a man trying to attract the attention of his prey in seduction. It was an honest grip, like a secret needed passing from one place to another, and her ears would have to come closer to receive what he had to offer. Even though Exodus' imperially poised features revealed nothing, his hungering scent told the Sephi everything she needed to know. “Handmaiden,” the Dark King expressed with great effort. Without hesitation, Iyamara lowered her ear to his face until his whisper brushed down her cheek. The scent of unceremonious death filled her nostrils, mixing inseparably with the scent of excitement. It was Exodus' unshakable will. “I am going to butcher every last one of them." (A few days later..)

P A R A N O I A The examination slab was bitter to his flesh, uncompromisingly cold and level. “...Where am I?” the thought escaped him, asking no one and nothing in particular. From all around him, there were sounds and words, shouts or maybe even screams judging by the pronounced urgency of chatter nearby. He could see nothing, but everything happened in a long and irritable slur. The largest sounds drowned out, muffled to an extremely suppressed low-hum, as if he had returned beneath the raging sea-waters of Mon Calamari and listened swimmingly to the cries of suffocating men. His eyes felt heavy. The lids on them would not part ways, yet neither would his lips to bare his teeth in displeasure. Natural senses slowly escaped him as even the barest motor functions did not work the way they used to, but panic did not seep in where control was lost. His mind was only describable as muddied; dragging and sluggish in the way his thoughts scattered far from any logic and burned with a psychedelic stupor. Even his body had betrayed him. “...Indawo Yokufa?” The words echoed boldly in his mind as if it were his Utata that had spoken them. The noble class within Anzat used phrases such as these to refer to a place of unrest and much death, a place of darkness in which remained inaccessible to the living. It was the void in simpler words, and he was here again, where darkness reigned supreme. His shapely sinewed chest heaved up and down, rising with the entire weight of a galaxy-spanning Empire, and falling softly as if this vulnerability had finally offered him some measure of peace from the conquering. Hardened sun-touched skin peaked through the cracked shell of his armor plate, showing swollen veins unnaturally glowing an iridescent white-purple. They traced upwards from his exposed abdomen, underneath his torn coverings and surged thickly at the base of his neck, shimmering as though each vein-stalk contained bottled lightning. Open wounds bled, but energy and life transitioned through his body in a kaleidoscopic burst of fuschia. All with eyes wide shut, Exodus sheepishly tried to peer into a world that was both present but nowhere to be found. "Death has not found you, trespasser." Her voice was eerily unfamiliar, slick with curiosity and venom. Every pronunciation labored slowly, as if each of her words were carefully selected to emphasize the importance of her message. "Then what is this? And who might you be?" Impatience settled at the tail-end of his tongue, and it was then, that he noticed he could speak. He worked his jaw loose, biting against his teeth and feeling the tension behind his cheeks, then releasing. It felt real, but because he was without sight, this felt as if it were another dream. It was more than a few breaths before a response actually came, drawing upon an awkward suspense. "You are here, and I am me of course." Giggling, the hoarse voice began to cackle at the silliness of their predicament. It wasn't pretty, the way her humor echoed in the ugly way that it did. Her laughter was nothing short of dry-heaves, slobbering and a coo of mania. Worse even, was that she believed it to be an enlightening answer. Exodus could hear movement around him as the other voices had suddenly drawn quiet. He hadn't noticed when they had stopped, and if they were just the voices in his head. Her feet shuffled quickly over the plated floors, tickling the metal as if her two feet were instead a dainty six, scratching the metal as she approached. "Did it work?" He wondered, "Did my sacrifice return Kakuto to the Sith? Did it free him from the Je'daii?" He had placed a lot at risk, but for his brothers, there was no cost too high. No cost too high.. “..Would they do the same?” ____ Greyscale. He opened his eyes at last, and the room shuddered in hues of black and grey. Color had been drained of this world, and the shadows swayed feverishly in the background. The Abyss was without warmth and without color, this much was clear. Exodus pulled his body from the medical slab and shot an eye to each corner of the room, finding neither the chilling voice nor the sickly visage of a woman that spoke in riddles. There were others. Twisted awkwardly in fits of what could only look like extreme pain, were the bodies of medical personnel dashed across the steel floors. Their faces were expressions of agony, overwrought with surprise and panic. Some had dug their hands and nails so deeply into the corners of their eyes, that they had peeled their own flesh from bone. A deep-rooted hysteria must have taken them, but at what hour and at what cause? Exodus stepped forward, judging the scent of death with his learned instincts, surveying the evident torment of self-mutilation. They had lost their minds inside of this room, and their lives became forfeit. “Your mind wandered loosely while you were under, slumbering King.” The voice, her voice, melted down from the walls that contained this room. Every time she spoke, she punctuated her straggly words with eerie laughter. “The Force inside of you is as sour as poison to those that would try to peek inside that head of yours, blacker even, dangerously so. They only tried to patch your wounds. They were only trying to save you, but your subconscious mind drove them absolutely insane. Their suffering lasted full minutes.” Exodus ignored her incessant teasing, trying his best to pinpoint the origin of her wheezing so that he could ring her neck. The sound of her did not exist in the physical world however, and in this Abyss, the rules escaped him. Blood was spilling from the wounds of the trained physicians. Their eyes, their ears, their mouths were like yawning ducts of flesh that gushed with expiring life. Color did not exist as brightly here as it did elsewhere. The red of their fatalities oozed as sinisterly as black ink, pooling around their corpses and feeding Exodus with life at a heightened rate. “Their sacrifices are of note.” Coldly his words breathed indifference as he reviewed his mighty frame, examining sealed wounds and radiant skin. “..Hag, tell me of this Abyss.” His steps ended where the enclosed door stood, which flushed with exhaust and opened to reveal an unexpected sight. The surprise nearly stole the sense from Exodus, for what was to be the rest of the Scarab, was instead the dusted entry-way of a tomb centralized around a singular grand sarcophagus. The stone coffin, one of which was in sound condition, was lined vertically among a communion of chairs. The stone coffin was sealed completely shut, large bronzium chains squeezing the design in many overlays. The chains wrapped the casket as if moraband serpents oozed densely from the surface. Slim braziers of grey fire surrounded the sandstone column, lighting up the entire hall, blanketing everything in a shadowy glow. The stained glass windows in the oblique ceiling danced in the flickering neutral light while gargoyles and statues peered down upon the oaken floor and towards the standing King of the Sith. A saffron rug split part of the room in half from the Sarcophagus to midway down the hall while winged banners with burnished tracery dangled gently from the walls. Between each banner sat a shrine-like ornament covered in candles, some of them were lit and in turn illuminated the statuettes of legendary creatures below them. Modest, tinted glass windows were edged by curtains colored the same darkened saffron as the banners. The curtains were adorned with embellished borders and impressive needlework. A grand throne of obsidian and gold sat behind a lavish gate of gilded wood and was adjoined by ten-or-so equally impressive seats. There were figures sitting in them, with the sarcophagus placed smack in the middle of them. The throne itself was covered in nothing but labyrinthine sculptures resembling spiders and darker creatures yet, and fixed on each of the rear legs was a gem encrusted moon of lurid black. The broad pillows were a dark saffron and these too were adorned with embellished corners of animalistic design. Those seeking the wisdom of the one that sat within this throne, could do so on the abundance of rather plain looking granite benches, all of which were perfectly aligned in rows. Those of higher standing could instead take seats in the luxurious mezzanines overlooking the hall, overlooking it all. On this night, inside of this strange Abyss, these halls were full. The mezzanines crawled with grotesque shapes and sizes, with hundreds and hundreds of hungry eyes pinned to where Exodus stood. He could not make them out as naturally as he could in any other darkness, for this one wholly betrayed his sight. Horrors filled the hall in circumference as best as he could tell, while heavy guttural sounds escaped them like wild animals. The familiar sound of fiends was everywhere. The wretched calls grew louder with every second, but nothing grabbed Exodus’ attention more than what he saw sitting inside of those seats likened to the throne. Below a creature that sat within one of the seats, were small pieces on a board, chess-pieces resembling assets of a budding Empire. The one known as Kain hoarded over these, grinning wildly as only a menacing machine could manage behind it’s metal face-plate. Keenava sat cross-legged, with a decorative plate balanced in her one hand, while her other toyed with emptied spider carcasses. Inside the hands of Faust, he held what looked like a threadbare doll with a crooked crown, puppeteering and dancing on loosely held strings. Nyrys sat among them with wild eyes, feasting on unclean meat that ran down her lips with putrid blood, unbothered by the thing inside the coffin. Telperion whispered to another that he couldn’t see, a woman he had never met, snickering back and forth between one another. Ca’aran looked at the coffin with disgust, with a blade in hand, his expression wishing nothing more than to plunge the metal into the sandstone cover. Dagon did not sit, he stood imperially. His gingerly features ran wild, with his back turned to the cryptic sarcophagus. Sheogorath filled the spaces of three chairs, with a large chalice in hand, laughing and spilling his mead recklessly over the surface of the coffin. A white-haired Arkanian rose from his seat at the convene, raising his hammer high above his head. Each of them looked now, each of them laughing hysterically now, and then the hammer fell. “Would they do the same?” Her voice made him stir, and then the demons in the shadows drew closer. He blinked, and the Abyss was no more.

Sealed doors hissed and began to unfasten under heavy strain, opening to reveal large formations of Sith Troopers hard-aligned to their position. This from the Northern exit, was mimicked exactly from the Southern exit. There were four lengthy rows of at least dozens on both sides, sprawling beyond what the new outpour of light could reveal. They were silent and diligent, as if the sounds of chanting and war shouts were a thing of the imagination. Side-by-side, the rows shifted forward in exact harmony, pooling into the halls with no room to spare. Their silver-metallic brilliance was haunting, visors that were faceless and unassuming to any natural identity. Their raised rifles were as black as night, searching the corridor before aligning to the woman that stood by their King. There was another here, and his look was more primal than anything they had ever seen. His breaths were unlike natural breathing, more akin to heaves of anger and mania that were wild expressions of body language. He was just another monster to the cold nature of the men and women that donned the silver carapace. Between their line formations, black armor-clad Red Knights of Truth made their way forward, some with lightsabers in hand and others with Sith steel forged. Swords, halberds, and brute hammers were all the rage as eight militarily trained warriors stepped forward coldly ahead of their lessers. One descended from each line between the formations of Sith Troopers, silently brooding over the scene. The militia wasted no time in securing the area, understanding the urgency of the situation. Four Sith Troopers departed from their formations under a command that hissed over their transmissions interface, and moved without hesitation to examine the fallen Sovereign. Their hands pulled at the pieces of the cracked armor plate, listening over his chest and feeling for additional wounds. Exodus had suffered a crippling electrical charge, most similar to the one that had hit Kakuto Ryu earlier in the fight, and most certainly the one that had buzzed through Draygo. Neither had ended their daring charge, but somehow this one differed. His last breath left him only a short time ago, but the medical soldiers understood their protocol. His chest was torched, and his insides pushed steam through his armor and clothes. Each soldier possessed variable kits with differing medical paraphernalia, adjusted uniquely to different expertise. Quickly employed was a Sith-oriented medical kit with a case harboring special potions and medical equipment engineered for use by the Dark Lords of the Sith. The contents of the kit included vials of injectable bacta and bota, injector power cells, wireless defibrillator, cardiovascular monitors, injector handle and head, resuscitating ventilator, adaptors for pressor field generator, and filtration transpirators and strange ingredients that were best left unnamed. They made quick work of a few vials, injecting them into his chest, neck and thigh while wrapping a strange vest over his top half. Exodus did not flinch. His mask sat crooked on his head, with empty eyes that stared almost tellingly towards the reckless Jedi. There was a sound similar to a wheeze that escaped, or perhaps it was a gasp from one of the soldiers from the surprise of the situation. With the helmet, it was a hard tell. They disappeared immediately after, beyond the line of friendlies before anyone could confirm what it was. All eyes returned to the two left inside the makeshift arena. Guns trained on the pair, while the Red Knights inched closer with weapons raised. What came next was blood, this much they understood. Word was that the other beaten Jedi had escaped the vessel and tucked tail without the people he had come with, and now the walls were shrinking. What remained seemed to dangle like power in front of the wildcard Ryu, for he had shamed his kin greatly, jeopardizing his legacy. What would he do next? -- The fleet had distanced themselves greatly from the Corellian battle and now were mere moments from their jump-retreat at last. The balance had taken a beating; Sith Master Qaela had been killed and had lost her campaign with Centerpoint remaining as a final beachhead. The Great Nyrys had gone MIA but communication had confirmed that the Jedi Grandmaster Adenna had been killed by the infamous Blood Prince and that the hierarchy of power shifted slowly. The tides were real, Aryian had spoke of them. The Goliath and the remaining fleet executed their jump to Onderonian space, reconciling with their homeport and now shuddered to the unbreakable shores of home.

3 CORONATION Inside the kill radius. Strands of electrical currents blinked in and out of the darkness where Exodus stood. Long and unspun sparks of energy rolled from his dreadplate armor, flickering anywhere inside of five feet from the King, like remarkable uneven stitching to the dark fabric of space this field of battle was immersed in. Wellsprings of dark power smelted these halls now as the repulsion of raw force superheated the very air they breathed. Metal alloy warped crudely against mechanical whines, loud hissing leaking profusely from ruptured pipes; destruction began to undress this passageway. The Assassin King drank this in deeply, indulging as his lungs expanded wide to fill the scathing strength he had just unleashed on the Goliath, fixing to unchain another. Sweat stewed underneath his armor, beading his body in flushes that he was too distracted from to feel. Open flesh wounds bled freely, stretched by shrapnel and draped in nothing but affluent cloth, these he acknowledged as they roused a competitive fire inside of him. Discipline ensured his respirations remained controlled however, that his mind was sharpened to the details of the threats that faced him and nothing else, optimizing for an endurance unlike any other. A maelstrom of the force began to exhume from beneath the Dark King that surged to the surface in seething vapors, seemingly organic in it’s evolution from the spheric detonation just a few breaths prior, forcibly altering the simulated sense of gravity directly around him. It was as if the air around the Dark King cooked absent of any heat, telekinetically overcharging before their eyes. Ryu fell and then reawakened, enduring a very visible metamorphosis before the final draw. Draygo stirred as well, wheeling as a hawk-bat, famished for the last dance. “At long last,” Exodus smiled knowingly beneath his fang-toothed mask. The passing of the torch; two far-famed names that had made their mark before the assassin had crawled from the backwater regions of space, both Ryu and Draygo of an aureated era, drenched in a time of blood and war. The Butcher of Gala would now chance a claim to both names, imprinting his growing legend to the legacies they had carved, immortalizing the beginning of his conquest with a Sith Empire more powerful than any that had stood before. Exodus put all else from his mind as he faced his opponents. Advancing towards him came the formless rage of Ryu, and the vainglory of Draygo in Ataru. Exodus redoubled within the Way of the Rancor, inviting the reckless abandon of the ungainly duet with an outstretched dark blade, pointing in their direction. It was unmistakable that the Assassin would not adhere to the philosophy of moderation over aggression, for Exodus was a vicious duelist who favored brutal power moves and had little contrition against lashing out on his foes with physical and efficient savagery. This disposition was accented by his unruly command of the dark side of the Force, actively drawing on his subtle rage in combat to fuel. Quite clearly, his employment of Niman maneuvers incorporated the use of Force powers chained into combat sequences, to compensate for the numbers against him in this battle. His full height dipped as he half-loaded his balance and weight into his thighs, widening his stance. The hilt of his blade appeared sentient even in the black of space, gamey with an embedded laurel wreath that hung from the handgrip, reserved only for those who had fought in foregoing wars, signaling that Exodus had ended an entire campaign with the draw of his blade. Exodus was everything a conqueror could be and yet, the weapon inside of his hand demanded more. Ryu let out a howl, a horrible layered moan that evidenced his manic depression. “Soon, I will end your suffering.” Exodus lifted his hands high, quietly channeling the maturing residuum of his force repulse. He spun his blade in a quick full-moon motion, cutting the air with a whooshing of plasma and a heavy crackle of disruption as arcing lightning poured forward from the confused Arkanian. Exodus pivoted backwards to avoid the reckless firing, but the energy caught the blade of Draygo and reoriented itself into multiples, trimming the strength of the force but catching into his arm, which only raised to brace himself from the surprise, while the rest broke into the ground around him. Exodus reeled as quivering power crawled his body, electrifying a biting numbness throughout his off-limb, but dissipating rapidly against the alchemical wyrmsteel, literally swallowing the energy. There was no time to equalize his balance, Ryu was on him like a hound, so he moved in rhythm to counter. They had finally shown up to play, and if not for their last ditch coordination, the Dark King would have torn the amalgamation of metal and Ryu into pieces, splitting him in two as he charged forward. Instead, a small orbit of debris and a crashing lunatic rammed into the bracing Anzati King. They were on him now. There was a loud crack as the serpentscale armor pinched the force-fueled-shrapnel hand, tightening upon impact as it was designed to. Exodus gritted his teeth behind his mask as he absorbed the raw forward inertia, sliding rearwards upon the weight of Ryu's impossible strength. The green blade whizzed barely by his collarbone, and then Draygo poured forward with an assault of her own. Exodus waltzed step for step, keeping their distances even. They hadn't, not for one moment, spared a second to consider their foe. Malacoda Syn was Firstborn and a veteran of close-quarter execution. It was in their interest to have come across almost any other Sith; most were young and sloppy, too accustomed to fighting from a position of strength and high-strung emotion. Firstborn Anzati had spent ten millennia fighting against impossible odds, always outnumbered, outgunned and outmatched by the horrors that lurked behind the stars. Such a history begat spines of adamantium, unyielding tenacity and zeal that could not be broken. That spelt trouble no matter how the dice rolled. They lunged, Draygo now entering his guard; both their swords sweeping left and then coming straight back for the Emperors’ flank. Kill Radius. It was a bold flurry, but he had been expecting their desperation. Exodus skipped sideways and angled his blade diagonally to counter, catching one sword and letting the other sail past without touching him. Energy flared theatrically as super-heated atoms trapped in magnetic fields clashed, showering the black halls in wild coos of amazement. He pushed away and then was on the attack again. Exodus’ skill became more obvious as he weaved inside of these attacks, a flurry of sweeping slices and thrusts that created a whirling dervish of spinning crimson. Draygo parried with hers, fighting to the utmost to keep Exodus within reach of Ryu while closing distance. Exodus moved into pure aggression, insanely skilled bladework while a maelstrom of force built up all around them, telekinetic drafts of pressure interrupting the simulated freedom of gravity. Form VI was smothering his circumference in a sluggish invisible weight. Still, in a dazzling display of skill the three conquerors danced across the halls, hands moving so fast in the dark, none but he could recognize what was happening. Three supremely skilled swordsmen skipping across the floor, variably matched in speed and strength. Three artists in their element, unaligned dancers in a ballet of deadly force, one that the Assassin knew well. This was what separated him from most of his kin, he understood war was an art. Any could be the superior combatant on the day, but most treated war as a science of destruction, or an intricate machine or even as the trading of punches until one fighter fell over. So few grasped the tempo and the grace of fighting as Lady Alora had taught. He moved with lightning speed, always in motion and his feet skipped and jumped in poetry, countering and stalling purposefully. By comparison Ryu was a raging bull, always attacking but never in the same way twice. Intuitive, adaptive and sly, he combined forms from memory and styles with ease, creating intricate webs of thrusts and lunges that should not be possible. Draygo exerted countless blows for his heart, attempting to skewer the Emperor from each contact. Exodus could see their craving for victory, their thirst for triumph, but furthermore, he was growing to understand that their eagerness hid a weakness. Ryu was monstrous in nature, scorning defence and disregarding his opponent's ability to hit back. Draygo was proud, staggeringly relentless, but sorely lacking purpose and direction as she led her followers to unnecessary death. Had she even a single thought to the life of the third in their party that had vanished? Did that wimpish creature know for what it was, that he would die? ...Did she? Left low, right low, left high, right low, right high, right low, right low, left high, without pattern or reason. Exodus became impassable with the estranged marks of contact stylized in his form VI disciplines, fighting with every last dreg of speed and strength he had earned. Each impact on his defense seemed to send sparks flying and his arms began to succumb to a rare dreariness from the constant hammering. His limbs burned like fire from the effort, even his highly-advanced physiology tested sorely by the furious pace of combat. Every blow came a hair closer to his body, each attack nearer to spilling his blood. His world shrank inward and all else was lost save the flurry of flashing swords around his form. Inside his kill radius. Exodus had enough. His feet spun him about and his blade swept dangerously low, not intending to cauterize limbs with a quick thrust, but rather marshal the staying power of the maelstrom that was maturing from the deadly repulse prior. Niman was in control and had never left. Exodus staggered and Ryu’s bladed hand lifted, slicing into his right arm, leaving a trail of blood running down his forearm. A sacrifice. Faster than any humanoid had the right to move, his sword lashed out, tearing across the enclosed proximity the three of them entertained, and then a vicious thunderous whine of pressure deafened the passageway, blotting out sound. Another explosion. It sounded as if the wall had ripped cleanly from it’s hinge, and a nasty bellow of wind was now sucking them into the sickening cold bite of black space. The passageway hadn’t changed. Unerring pressurization lashed out wickedly as a suffocating telekinetic force seized the moment. Brilliant achromatic energy wheeled from where the Sith lightning had struck, and crawled off of the wyrmsteel plates he wore as if coming alive. Arcs of electricity thicker than the high-branches of a Wroshyr tree exploded towards Ryu and Draygo like musket-fire. The Dark King drifted from his feet, slipping into the air imperiously, levitating by nature of the Maelstrom as it poured an unceasing bombardment of lightning onto the intruders. No two sounds were the same, as metal wept and mourned under strain, bawling incessantly as ruptured plates peeled away and an adamant quaking rocked the Goliath slow. Dry and hateful thunderbolts formed from naught but raw power had cracked, hissed and shattered against steel while loose debris hovered wildly against physical demand. Exodus understood that this was too small a space, because what came after historically, was the onset of a destructive Force Storm. Did his power reach such heights? Would he break the Goliath, to rain death upon his enemies? Look what the little boy from the academy had become..

2 RULE Force Vision / Mind Games Force Sense / Fear Scent Blade Corruption Niman / Body Boom Inside the kill radius. As the electric cannon punched into the pair with an extremely acute thrashing of raw energy, the Jedi measured her blade against the heavy-handed impact, while the former Sith blunderously ate the unnatural ionic heave skin-first, chaining the phenomena between the two by proximity. The traitor reeled into a collapse and Exodus moved his feet forward to crush what was left of his spine, if he indeed still had one. Dathomiri witches spoke of death and the finer things, and were convinced that wearing your enemy's bones as fashion, would forever ward one from duplicitous creatures. Testing the truth of this had never been more tempting. As the Dark King stepped into play, tantalizingly slow and as measured as a looming predator over prey, blind courage interrupted the reunion. The woman that Ryu had arrived with, juggled a show of resilience and balanced the foreign weight of the force against her physical body, before stepping over the downed corpse in conservative guard while defiantly slashing ahead of her territory. "Aaaah, like one of their own. This was not love, was it?" The thought gnawed at him, striking a curiosity that bothered him more than the absence of an answer to why they were here in the first place. Exodus delayed the opportunity to kill and retreated in step, not with a single, but rather a gathered leap in the opposite direction. She protected him as if he was her own, and if she had leaned into her aggressive nature without restraint, the blow might've scored her a slice of flesh. "Still, unlikely," he thought dismissively. The assassin landed quite some feet away, composed into footwork of form VI as a practiced discipline, anticipating their angles of attack while eyeing the two with a sight that rendered night into day. Kakuto was slow to rise, distracted in his advances, distracted in how foolishly he had entered into the fray, was his mind truly lost to madness? Had the Jedi deceitfully led him to slaughter, and turned him into a doltish marionette for their games? He wished for Kakuto Ryu to hear these whispers, in fact he willed it. Urgently, as if it were the stone walkways inside the Gala Temple on their first raid, Exodus began to kindle a telepathic language to access the Trinity bond that the Warrior and the Assassin had once shared; the sentient breath or connection that echoed louder since the beginning of this war over Corellia. Exodus knew his brother could feel them too, hearing the echoes just as they were for him, just as they were when they had conquered entire worlds. The drums of the Goliath only made it worse, the battle revelry, the roars of ecstasy that war-drunk creatures stampeded with would do well to remind the once Warrior-King. To bathe his tormented mind into surrendering to the memories that seemed suppressed. Kakuto Ryu had returned to his feet, and loosely let out a name familiar to books of record. "Draygo." Exodus approached the elevation of battle with his chin raised and his eyes fixed on the middle distance now. His opponents were without chemistry; their coordination was threadbare, muddied by a lack of visibility and inexperience, which was endorsed by the aimless brutality of the warrior. A fighter starved of his physique and his wits. They had breached the most valuable warship in this forward fleet, but came alone and without preparation. It began to show as the seams came undone, and their impaired gambles hinted at a true lack of purpose. Swelling ignorance to think that a few would wander into a lair of wolves as nothing more than flesh, and hope to part as whole. It was the incessant ignorance of Jedi, a plague upon the force. A second flash-bang detonated in short proximity, detrimental to the unaided in such confines but dissipating harmlessly once more against the photosensors and proofing of his full helm that hid his true identity. Exodus' face beneath remained cold and far removed of emotion, as though daring the congregation to look his way and feel the chill. His dark hair trailed behind him artfully, and his features remained a sharp caricature of totemic wolf-breeds carved upon black-steel, a fanged nightmare to his foes. He bore all the hallmarks; imposing, inhumanly perfect features built on a grander scale than those of the mortal creature– but his unblinking eyes were dark with secrets. It was as though, in him, the dream of the Dark Council from past eras were a failure as they overlooked the serpentine apprentice beneath their watch, passing him off as a mere dog of war to be tamed by the enchanting Master Alora. None of them respected her in same manner that the young Malacoda Syn did, understanding that her power was nested in the shadows, shadows that those warmongers could never see nor read. Her discretion and her power over their flesh was far more commanding than those that boastfully killed for murder count. And it was Lady Alora, and only she, that had the patience to evoke an absolute nightmare seemingly unmarred by the rampant corruption of the Dark Side, a true King of the Sith. Exodus angled his ancient blade in front of him, unlit in an opening Niman stance, wired in anticipation as he watched them acutely through heavy darkness. He could not yet understand their keen resistance to such powerful concussive blasts, but he would peel back the layers of their eyes to see for himself. Ryu had more toys to throw however, evidenced by the audible tells of the primed hand-helds. Exodus quickly shifted his weight and his armour trailed with obsidian robes that whipped up dust as they hissed over metal plating. “You haven’t won this already you skulking cur! You hear me?!” Kakuto wailed. Fear-scent. The Dark King distinguished the smell of it, even as it came out in words alone. This was a haunting. Malacoda could scent it anywhere. His brother carried it with him, it was like the rancid stench of an unkempt charnel-house; a breath that betrayed presence, a vile reek carried through the halls. His body was his temple, and the temple of Kakuto Ryu was diseased with languor and uncleanliness. As he spoke, his decaying became obvious. Anzanti wielded senses far superior to most humanoids, and with the squeezing of the force, his senses were supreme. It was like old blood griming through already-blackened teeth; a rot that fumed from Ryu like a beacon, supernatural faculties were not necessary to see this. From where did they retrieve the old Master of Warriors? With eyes blacker than the voids between the stars and just as pitiless. Pallid skin smeared with loose skin and malnutrition; oily hair plastered to gaunt cheeks and narrow shoulders. Imprisonment, perhaps they had broken him after all. Exodus did not need to see him to know who it was that haunted him, but now it would be the Spider that pursued him through the endless shadows as tirelessly as the night wind. Two more grenades flew, detonating with explosions vastly different than the concussive blasts. Exodus braced with the backing of his stance, shielding his face with the wide-breadth of his forearm, missing just when the Jedi had suppressed the effectiveness of the blast. Draygo was spending energy to keep them from killing themselves, affirmation of their disorganization. A hailstorm of shrapnel scattered across an open and enclosed space with deadly force– tink, tink, tink, tink. The fragments of metal punched into all, blacking the emergency glowlights, carving into piping, and tearing into structural integrity of the room. The adorned armor-plates weren’t enough to completely excuse damage to the King or the blow-back of pressure, the metal bit cleanly through at random, or embedded itself into the body of the exotic steel. Fascinating pangs of sensation riddled his body, from his forearm to his abdomen, and down his leg as he slid backwards. Blood made him smile. The blast cleared the expansive gloom for the moment, but darker the room was without power and without a shred of light. Just then the screeching boil of a lightsaber dragged across a metal wall, lighting the room poorly as Exodus returned his same forearm to the opening stance of Niman and saw as plainly as day, the unified stampede of both Jedi and Sith, charging nearly blind in his direction. “Disgusting.” Exodus nearly spit the words. The skeletal chassis of the Dark King simmered with power, canalizing raw force through his flesh. Aggravation began to rise in him, feeding him as he watched the blatant defilement of a Sith champion skittering across the decking like a loosened rat. Draygo too, wordlessly simulating such aversion as if it were commonplace. Was she unaware of the demon that she kept under foot? She was Oblivious. This was her brothers’ keeper, the King of such Devils. The dark crystal sparked, and his weapon manifested. The sickening hum of the blade cracked into existence, dripping with heat and hate simultaneously. A deep and drowned crimson, with halcyonic black veins seemingly etched throughout the long length of it, darkening the weapon uniquely. They could not see it, but as the weapon unraveled, the blood vessels inside of his hand swelled with overwhelming vigor, charting an engorged mapping of veins directly through his arm and hand, to the hilt of the legendary lightsaber. The woeful beam of power spun in his hand reflexively as Kakuto ran by, just outside of range, headed towards nothing and no one. "EXODUS!" Kakuto shouted the name he could not understand from the nightmare, The name of his dream walker. Ryu blew his feint with his shout and turned to cleave an overhand strike through his brother. The Way of the Rancor established both a low and high guard, and transition between the two from an opening stance was as smooth as butter. Exodus tensed and brandished his famished blade high to meet the downward strike, while tracking the closing distance of the Jedi. This was done by the increasing pang of her steps, and the runaway blade that drew nearer. Efficiency was most paramount, and a misstep would be costly as three slants of attack now converged on the Spider. Deceptively, the unnatural power of Ryu hammered down beyond anticipation, much heavier of a wild force than he could recall in any creature he had killed in recent time. Exodus shouldered the burden, ethnological strength coupled with a burgeoning energy was more than enough to hold the rawboned warrior. But there was more, something inside of him that vacuumed an intangible might. The high-guard held as he drew his brother closer, considering his face for a small moment, between the burning palette of fiery red and nauseating green. “Ohhh, how I will break you before I free you.” “That is... King Exodus, brother.” The words crawled out as a daring whisper, as if all else in the moment paused with held breath to witness his address. Such conceited stress on his sovereign name, and such malice hidden in the title of endearment he gave. As both brands rolled off of his tongue like dripping poison, the world around them cracked. When the Jedi came within feet of her final approach, Exodus roared with a power to shake the Goliath whole. An exceedingly powerful telekinetic Force explosion detonated from the body of the King, supremely evolved from any application of a traditional push. Violently the force dragooned outwards, constructing rapidly-expanding kinetic ricochets in such a small space, instantly flinging anything near him away at terminal velocity. The repulse was so violent and extreme that it threatened to disintegrate his foes in a blast of strenuous pressure; a dreadful conjuring of force repulsion unlike anything this vessel had ever felt, buckling the whining infrastructure around them.

1 RULE Familiarity sank deep into his chest, teasing him to entertain at least a sliver of emotion, but a dejected sense of perfection would not allow himself to surrender to distraction. Kakuto Ryu. He had felt the mimicry in the force, the vocation of a familiar presence from afar, but the treachery of the force had always been unpredictable. And here, the fates conspired to reveal his brother amidst the treasonous Jedi. Such a disgraceful desecration of the Goliath and the Sith as a whole, the paranoia of betrayal chewed at the back of his skull. As the battle for Corellia waged, the echo drew nearer, and nearer still as the boarders resigned themselves to suicide upon entry. Humiliation is what they offered, and for this profound underestimation, they would pay dearly with more than just their lives. Wide and wild kaleidoscopic eyes pierced the swallowing darkness that hauntingly loomed about the halls. Acrid smoke silently wisped in pours from the walls, from the emptying canisters, and from the Dark King himself as if the world around them was melting. Shadows; they were everywhere, pressing in on them with curious urgency and submerging their most fundamental motor functions into grave uncertainty, pilfering the confidence that the ordinary had within the light. But it was Darkness that had come to greet them now. They were lost. They were alone. And now they would be hunted. It was not hard to tell when Ryu loosely struck out at empty air; the writing on the wall appeared to be signs of neurosis or he was unsurprisingly inebriated past his limit. Did he have a hand in the downfall of Qaela and Nyrys? Could one sanctified in the blood of the trinity, really become slave to the doctrine of the Jedi? Were the Rebels so unlearned in the ways of war to walk these halls arrogantly, and with numbers such as these against the great fleet? Madness was in abundance, but he would set them straight. The pitch was an easy read, Exodus held his hand toward the hand-munition as it launched and suspended it’s trajectory before the zenith of its arc, prematurely detonating the flash-bang shell. The loud fracture of noise was acutely disorienting for those over the mound at one-hundred and eighty decibels, accompanied simultaneously by a powerfully blinding flash. Built-in photosensors compensated for the direct influx of brilliance, while the noise muffled into a drum versus the helmet that royally curtained the head of the King. The shifting spectacle was aesthetic against the ghoulish shadowcast, but such a flash in the pan would only harm those not strictly prepared to win. Exodus smiled and prepared himself in stance as Ryu blindly charged forward now. From memory, the old man was sluggish and far from noted form, but as direct as any warrior true to their craze. The Jedi ran with him, deactivating her weapon and thumping forwards as the quick flash returned to lightlessness. The Assassin moved to meet them. The answering war-scream came from every direction at once and from none of them, and not by way of mouth, but by the breaking speed in which he moved. His quickness beckoned the cry of sound. The hungry march from the host of the Goliath amplified the anxiety of the moment, seemingly thousands slamming their feet against steel, chanting war as if ritual. Louder and louder. Were the shadows whispering now? Darkness split open horizontally as Ryu struck out with his blade, unveiling a great leaping Spider looming suddenly before the Warrior, a mighty cadaverous god in midnight-clad, a ghastly revenant spewed from the shadows that stirred at Ryu with impossible speed. His half-twist layout flip was sprightly, graceful in execution as he angled himself mid-air to face the back of Ryu. The enemy blade scorched the air beneath the Assassin just as he launched himself cleanly over and behind broad shoulders, exchanging playing fields with the Jedi on the other end, purposefully keeping the warrior between the two. The Jedi was skidding, would she hit the Warrior? Pointing outward with his left hand before his feet could meet the floor, an unraveling of electricity harvested en-masse down the length of his left arm and shotgunned like a harpoon towards the spine of his brother. The electrifying release of Force Lightning was fired with the aggressive intent to puncture one foe and punch into the other, even if it were impossible. Landing firmly, the quick gathering of magnetism sizzled out into nothingness across his arm and his right hand readied his infamous hilt for battle.

S I T H E M P I R E THE GALACTIC KINGDOM T W E L V E S P H E R E S O F R U L E. ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ Expansion and Diplomacy Military Offense Military Strategy Defense of the Empire Imperial Intelligence Laws and Justice Production and Logistics Biotic Science Technology Ancient Knowledge Sith Philosophy Mysteries The Spheres of Rule are the twelve domains of politics and power in the rising Sith Empire. Each of the twelve, are headed by a small ministry, which in turn is lead by a Warden (a member of the Dark Council,) and between them they encompass the entire Sith Empire. Through the Spheres, the Dark Council controls and oversees the day-to-day operations of the Empire, and every individual and organization within the Empire ultimately answers to at least one of the Councilors through the hierarchy of the Spheres. ================================ T H E M I N I S T R I E S twelves spheres condensed into four ministries, managed by a member of the dark council known as Wardens. ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ Ministry of War The Machine of the Sith Leader: The Warden of Battle, Directorate: Headquarters: Affiliation: Imperial High Command, Imperial Army, Imperial Navy, The Ministry of War was one of four pillars in the Kingdom of the Sith Empire. The Ministry of War was charged with operating almost all elements of the Imperial Military and was led by the Warden of Battle. Under the Ministry were moffs who ensured that military order was maintained. Though the Lord of War answered to all members of the Dark Council, the Ministry worked particularly close with the spheres of Diplomacy/Expansion, Military Offense, and Military Strategy. The Imperial Navy was one of the ministry's chief concerns. The Ministry is also responsible for the Imperial Army, the Empire's ground forces. Other areas of the Ministry's responsibilities were foreign expansion, soldier deployments, combat tactics, special forces, black ops missions and the general strategy of the war. The Ministry ensured all Spheres of Influence were appropriately garrisoned with military forces as one of their chief responsibilities. The Ministry's mercenary recruitment division appropriately employed talented freelance professionals for Imperial service. Diplomacy and Expansion, Military Offense, Military Strategy Sith within the Domain of The Machine may be focused on interactions with hostile or potentially hostile presences in the galaxy. They are warriors, diplomats, strategists and more. Ministry of Intelligence The Scales of the Sith Empire Leader: The Warden of Judgment (High Inquisitor), Directorate: Headquarters: Affiliation: Sith-Imperial Intelligence, Sith-Imperial News Network, Outreach Bureau, Intelligence Asset Recovery, Red Knights of Truth The Ministry of Intelligence was one of four main divisions of the rising Sith Empire. The Ministry of Intelligence governed the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence, the Defense of the Empire and the Laws and Justice of Imperial Society. Headed by Warden of Judgment (more commonly known as the High Inquisitor), the Ministry was responsible for providing information and sowing disinformation as necessary, the external and internal defense of the Galactic Kingdom and the execution of law and order within Imperial Society. The largest organ of the Ministry is the Sith-Imperial Intelligence. It serves the Sith Empire as the primary covert intelligence and counter intelligence service. Its day-to-day operations were headed by members within the directorate, generally referred to as the Keepers. A second apparatus of the Ministry of Intelligence was the Outreach Bureau. The Bureau's purpose was to inform citizens of the daily news of the galaxy. More often than not, the Bureau reported facts as suited the Empire and produced copious amounts of propaganda praising the Empire and casting the Galactic Alliance or allies thereof as deceptively evil, which was endorsed by uncharacteristic attacks similar to those on Onderon. Defense of the Empire Sith Intelligence, Laws and Justice Sith within the Domain of The Scales may be focused on interactions with neutral, friendly, or enemy presences in the galaxy. They are protectors, gatherers of information, judges and more. Ministry of Logistics The Hive of the Sith Empire Leader: The Warden of Coin, Directorate: Headquarters: Affiliation: Imperial Citizenship Bureau, Imperial Treasury Department The Ministry of Logistics was a division of the Sith Empire, one that held dominion over the Sphere of Production and Logistics, Technology, and Biotic Sciences. The ministry was controlled by the Warden of Coin who answered to the Dark Council though he or she would also at times report to other councilors evenly, such as the one who oversaw the Sphere of Defense of the Empire if it referred to a military issue. Though seen by some as the lowest of the Ministries, it was also the most vital. The ministry provided calculations to fend off enemy troops, logistical necessities of fleets and ground forces, and financial concerns of a war. between many industries that are nationalized, the Ministry also manages the factories that produce the weapons for the Empire's war machine. Along with this, are agricultural worlds that are used for the food supplies of the Sith-Imperial military. The Ministry also supervises the Empire's slave labor and makes adjustments where necessary to complete building projects. Added to this, the ministry runs the Empire's civilian transportation and trade network ensuring the transit of goods in the Empire, locally and between worlds. Biotic Sciences, Technology, Production and Logistics Sith within the Domain of The Hive may be focused on the sciences and technologies that build and strengthen the Empire. They are alchemists, artificers, economists, engineers, and more. Ministry of the Arcane The Spirit of the Sith Empire Leader: The Warden of Souls, Directorate: Headquarters: Affiliation: Imperial Reclamation Service The Ministry of the Arcane was the Spirit of the Sith Empire, one that held dominion over the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge, Mysteries of the Force, and most importantly, Sith Philosophy. The ministry was controlled by the Warden of Souls who answered to the Dark Council and explicitly, the Dark King of the Sith. Within the reach of this ministry, they harbored and hunted for lost artifacts and weaponry of ancient Sith, they vaulted a great many secrets that held value far beyond the comprehension of common folk, even experimenting with the darkest implications of the Force. Above all, they heralded the sacred tenets of Sith Philosophy, zealously imprinting the core beliefs of their system, to the worlds that fell beneath Sith-Imperial Rule. Ancient Knowledge, Mysteries, Sith Philosophy Sith within the domain of The Force may be focused on discovering and either sharing or safeguarding knowledge, both historical and arcane. They are archaeologists, occultists, enigmas, teachers and more. ================================ T H E S P H E R E S a breakdown of each governing body, and what their rule consists of. ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ ▲ ■ Sphere of Ancient Knowledge The Sphere of Ancient Knowledge was charged with the protection and expansion of Sith knowledge. First introduced in the times of the resurgent Sith Empire of old, this field oversaw the Imperial Reclamation Service and ensured that Sith artifacts and archaeological discoveries were handled correctly and benefited the Sith Order. Pyramid of Biotic Science The Sphere of Biotic Science was charged with the command of all aspects of the Empire that dealt with the organic body. The Imperial Medical Corps, cybernetic augmentation, disease control, Sith alchemy, and genetic manipulations and experiments all fell within the Sphere's control. Pyramid of Defense of the Empire The Sphere of Defense of the Empire was concerned with the direction of the Imperial Military in order to preserve the Empire and its people from external and internal threats. As a result, the Sphere shared joint control of the Ministry of War and the Imperial Military with the heads of the Spheres of Military Offense and Military Strategy, and it often coordinated its efforts with the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence. The measure of influence here would ultimately protect the Sith Empire from self-destructive policies and infighting like that which plagued the Sith Order in years past. Pyramid of Expansion and Diplomacy The Sphere of Expansion and Diplomacy oversaw the expansion of the Empire's borders and directed the Imperial Diplomatic Corps in its efforts to secure new allies and maintain their allegiances. While the Sphere controlled both diplomacy and expansion, the Sphere's leader determined which of the two the Empire favored during the Councilor's tenure. It was common that operators in the past preferred military expansion and conquests over diplomacy, but the justifications would need to appeal to the council, and furthermore the Dark Lord himself. Pyramid of Imperial Intelligence The Sphere of Imperial Intelligence oversaw the Ministry of Intelligence, with the Minister of Intelligence reporting directly to the head of the Sphere. All of Intelligence's many divisions, including Imperial Intelligence—the primary Intelligence gathering arm of the Ministry—and the propaganda-generating Outreach Bureau fell under the control of the Sphere's leader. Lord Exodus involved himself here particularly and directly in all things concerning, regardless of the acting Director. Pyramid of Laws and Justice The Sphere of Laws and Justice directed the law enforcement and justice branches of the Sith Empire, and under the Sphere's control the rigid order and efficiency of Imperial society would harden and remain intact, and Imperial justice could now be maintained across the Empire. The head of this Sphere would ensure that the Empire remained true to its values and traditions, while understanding that relying too much on the traditions of the past could compromise the future. Pyramid of Military Offense The Sphere of Military Offense directed the Imperial Military and the Ministry of War in all offensive military operations, commanding the military's firepower and resources in order to destroy the Empire's enemies and ensure their territorial and military supremacy. Pyramid of Military Strategy The Sphere of Military Strategy controlled the battle plans, strategies, and other military procedures in addition to the Imperial Conquest Consolidation Corps, and the Sphere worked directly with the Spheres of Defense and Military Offense to command the Ministry of War. Lord Exodus and the head of the Sphere orchestrated the invasion and complete takeover of Onderon during the threat of a reignited war with the Jedi Order, resulting in a near-perfect occupation that was only sullied by the full retreat of the enemy forces. Pyramid of Mysteries The Sphere of Mysteries, also known as the Keeper of Mysteries sphere, was the Sphere that was the most secretive of the twelve. The rest of the Empire knew almost nothing about the Sphere's inner workings or purpose, and they only understood that the mysteries which the Sphere protected were important to the Empire. The director of this sphere operated in close tandem with the Dark Lord of the Sith, and their union was likely struck decades prior to the formation of this powerful Sith Empire. Pyramid of Production and Logistics The Sphere of Production and Logistics was charged with overseeing the Ministry of Logistics, with the Minister of Logistics reporting directly to the Dark Councilor in charge of the Sphere. Through the Ministry, the Sphere oversaw the Empire's trade routes, resources, economy, military supply lines, transportation systems, nationalized industries, slave populations, and other assets and programs essential to the continued functions of the Empire. Pyramid of Sith Philosophy The Sphere of Sith Philosophy was tasked with the protection of the Code of the Sith, ensuring that the acolytes and apprentices of the Sith Order remained loyal to the tenets of their Order, spreading anti-Jedi teachings and propaganda, and also ensuring that the Empire remained free of those who believed in the powers or advantages of the light side of the Force. Pyramid of Technology The Sphere of Technology oversaw the creation of powerful new cybernetics, super-weapons, military technology and other revolutionary machines for the good of the Empire.

Hsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.......... The aural whir of structural ventilation droned to a slow whine, and then a dismal moan. Residual pressure wheezed into the dark hall, while a bloodthirsty flush of red flickered alive from reserved power. Darkness still conquered, and while the ambient noises quieted from the machinery and blaster-fire, a long-winded hiss became noticeable. Sounds of metallic canisters hit the floor, skipping closer to the boarders, and also further away. The hissing became layered, dropping in fews while the emergency color around them suddenly dimmed. Thick, swollen smoke escaped the brass tins; quickly swallowing the halls in an impenetrable smog. Behind doors that now sealed themselves into impassibility, an inharmonious cheer began to stir. Deck plates were hammered beneath boot, echoes carried by the drained ventilation ducts, a roaring of dark energy that lapsed the entirety of the mighty Goliath. The Sith War Machine cried out, bellowing loudly, and clamoring for their earned supremacy; they were chanting in symmetry now, each of them for their fallen brothers and sisters of this battle. From the Imperial servicemen of this legendary vessel, to the shamanistic howls of the nightsisters, their growing choir became chilling. Hundreds upon thousands belonging to a powerful Imperial fraternity, stomping to a contagious euphony, and this was their arena. Exodus watched the trespassers curiously, a noble patriarch brooding over his failing children, the similarities were not scarce. They wandered about as stray, lumberous brutes, hacking at the air, and exerting themselves with the small fish. When the cute skirmishes came to a crawl, the Dark King spoke through the shadows, echoing evenly throughout the hall as if the walls shuddered as gills to the tone of his jarring voice. Sinisterly smooth, rasping as if every word was birthed from a much darker place than this. “...Welcome. You have chosen your graves unwisely, I shall be your ferryman.” A wolfish smile behind a mask was the only punctuation he afforded them. (Duel request for OK, KR, and whoever else within this opening window.)

The Carrier Group centered around Typhoon went up in flames, bellowing as the vessel and those that accompanied it, had been destroyed. Their purpose was served, and with their sacrifice, the Imperial Navy was able to secure a priority veteran kill on the GA-inspired Star Destroyer Alexei. Other task forces within the formations began to fall back towards the conquered Centerpoint to re-assess and relinquish their forward directive from Sith Master Qaela as reports had been confirmed that she had been defeated in singular combat on the fields of Corellia. She had failed in her mission to expand and wield the territory as her own, but her conquest of the beachhead was where her mark would be left. Sith-Imperial Forward Command Commanded by Exodus Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |13/15| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20| Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |0/0| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |0/0| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nok Morliss Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0| RETREATED FOR REPAIRS Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |4/6| Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |0/0| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| RETREATED FOR REPAIRS Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nyrys Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Fair Lady of Iziz |6/0| RETREATED FOR REPAIRS Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Jendra’s Song |3/3| Atani’s Vigil |3/3| The Lucky Pair |1/0| Xuri’s Resolve |0/0| Alpha |0/0| Beta |0/0| Gamma |2/1| Omicron |2/1| Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9| Lovelorn Wraith |3/3| Lust |2/1| Envy |2/1| Desire |2/1| Betrayal |2/1|

Sith-Imperial Forward Command Commanded by Exodus Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/17| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20| Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |5/5| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |0/0| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nok Morliss Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0| RETREATED FOR REPAIRS Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9| Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |6/0| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nyrys Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Fair Lady of Iziz |6/0| Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Jendra’s Song |3/3| Atani’s Vigil |3/3| The Lucky Pair |3/3| Xuri’s Resolve |0/0| Alpha |0/0| Beta |0/0| Gamma |2/1| Omicron |2/1| Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9| Lovelorn Wraith |3/3| Lust |2/1| Envy |2/1| Desire |2/1| Betrayal |2/1| ------------------------------ D A R K A R E N A Lord Exodus stood in silent ataraxis, measuring the counts of his breath. His eyes were shut beneath his lupine helmet as he centered his consciousness, bringing his focus into alignment and honing his zealous killer instinct. A full measure of reticulated muscle tissue inside of his body stirred with anticipation, but he stretched them instinctively, keeping them deft and malleable for imminent function. An enthusiastic display of power was at last necessary; a coming battle that would shed the dreary encumbrance of mercy that the Emperor-King had carried since his return. “Turn out the lights,” an order came to black-out the aft-channel region of the Goliath, killing any source of light within controlled passageway partitions. Exodus was ready and turned his attention to his armour. His plate was an alchemical shell of power, layered with additional golden ablative plates and countless marks of high-imperial acclaim, blademaster laurels and arcane seals hanging from his ghoulish pauldrons. His left hand held his mythical Transcendence, an organic seething-red blade inscribed with a broad-flush of immense power when activated. His right hand harnessed his combat gauntlet, shimmering with a faint trickle of energy and fitted with an esoteric trigger, another early trophy of war. His helm hid the grandiloquence of his name behind an obsidian-golden wolfish front, bearing the jawline of a beast, while the top was adorned with a small familial Anzanti crest. He was a mirage of fiendish splendour; a majestic spirit of the Reaper made flesh and metal, for Exodus was an imperator of the dark side and he bore the honour of his kin upon his shoulders. Dispassionately, the warlord opened his eyes and his auto-senses filled with a pitch-black horizon; a familiar emptiness, nothingness in which only those of his kind were born to maneuver. Yet, he was alone, once more. Exodus put it from his mind as he examined the flat floor, easily seeing through the dark. It was dark-marbled stone and divided into ten-feet rectangular lengths separated by lengths of grating, creating a structured pattern. The far walls were outcropped at an angle, with deep pockets of automaton and quiet machinery. The Sith King marauded the hall, nearing the tracked position of the imprudent boarders. “...foolishly running to their deaths.” It felt much different for Exodus however, vastly similar to prowling a gladiatorial stadium, a winding arena filled with rising seats. In his imagination, it could have held ten thousand of his people, throngs of cheering creatures crying out in eagerness, ready for the killing to begin. The sensation was always euphoria down his spine.

Shit blew up. Sith-Imperial Forward Command Commanded by Exodus Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/17| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20| Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |6/5| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |0/0| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nok Morliss Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0| Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9| Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nyrys Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Fair Lady of Iziz |15/11| Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Jendra’s Song |3/3| Atani’s Vigil |3/3| The Lucky Pair |3/3| Xuri’s Resolve |3/3| Alpha |2/1| Beta |2/1| Gamma |2/1| Omicron |2/1| Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9| Lovelorn Wraith |3/3| Lust |2/1| Envy |2/1| Desire |2/1| Betrayal |2/1|

The Goliath crawled through Corellian space in eurythmic formation, bonded by the structure of behemoth warships that were commanded by their ferocious Imperial brood. The tremendous axial laser deep-rooted inside of the powerful destroyer, hummed and seethed with rage, igniting recklessly into the loose formation of the Rebels, cracking into enemy lines. War spilled over as the two eternal rivals clashed yet again. Furies of the most elite TIE-fighters flooded the theatrical space with deadly execution, honoring their fearsome mobility and tact. Cold metal melted and burned as thick barrages of plasma and energy devoured without bias. CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette Caldwell and Kilchreest did not last the early merits of battle, for their steadfastness engineered a capable defense against the enemy bombers and pushed them into crushing defeat against the EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate Basilisk, not without risking themselves to the opening salvo of an enemy capital ship. These were merciless times, and the Imperial armada was no stranger to the detachment of it. Brothers and sisters that they had dined with over countless victories, would say their farewells in suddenness of an unforgiving space. The Emperor-King watched closely as the neighboring commands executed their will, while Inquisitor Barca stood remained close, an extension of a might never before witnessed by the likes of these Rebels. (Apologize for the late recap. Allied commanders should narrate their own task forces, if they wish.) Sith-Imperial Forward Command Commanded by Exodus Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/20| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20| Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |9/9| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |3/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |2/1| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nok Morliss Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |12/0| Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9| Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nyrys Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Fair Lady of Iziz |20/20| Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Jendra’s Song |3/3| Atani’s Vigil |3/3| The Lucky Pair |3/3| Xuri’s Resolve |3/3| Alpha |2/1| Beta |2/1| Gamma |2/1| Omicron |2/1| In Reserve Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre) Commander: Nyrys Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9| Lovelorn Wraith |3/3| Lust |2/1| Envy |2/1| Desire |2/1| Betrayal |2/1|