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Darth Nyrys

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  1. Construction continued on the new temple, and Darth Nyrys was personally overseeing the construction of the forge to her exacting specifications. The Krath whinged and pushed for a more mystical version that removed many of the more physical elements of crafting arms and armor, but she was adamant in her designs. Forge labor crafted the smith as much as it did the weapon, and she felt a deeper connection with any piece that she had spent significant hours creating. The anvil was as much an altar as it was a tool, and upon it she willed her spirituality into physical form. When the Krath finally relented to her wishes she shifted her attention to training. She had artificially enhanced this new body’s strength upon inhabiting it, but now it was time to reinforce that power through honest physical exertion, to truly own it. There was a clarity of mind that came with the honing of the body, and in that onyx mirror Nyrys could find her path forward. It was a method of Sith meditation that gave temporary form to the doubt and self hatred within the practitioner. As the world faded into background noise from the repetition of simple yet strenuous movements, the other her came into unnaturally clear focus. The shadow’s movements were animalistic, primitive, and it crawled towards her with predatory intensity. The shadow’s form was defined by Nyrys’s personal insecurities and selfish desires, and so it appeared as a purebred Cathar with beautiful golden fur and perfect curves, possessing the health and natural beauty that she could never have. It took one look at Nyrys and let out a vocalization of disgust. “Oh right, you became a race traitor at the first opportunity,” it sneered, ”because who needs a heritage? How’s life on the winning team? Have all of your problems that you blamed on being a xeno melted away?” The shadow was no longer a cathar, instead appearing as human now, naked save for gratuitous amounts of blood coating dripping from her phantasmal form. The basic physical details were the same, such as eye color and bone structure, but her musculature was more in line with a model or an actress, a subtle dig at Nyrys’s own quiet fears about her training making her too muscular. It was no longer moving like a hunting predator, shifting its demeanor to that of a proper imperial noblewoman. “Sup kath,” Nyrys replied casually, “you’re feeling chatty today.” Usually the shadow communicated more through physical action, she could still clearly recall the time that it had smashed her mirror. Maybe it was the fact that this time she was speaking to it in a more controlled meditation instead of instinctively. Or maybe the balance had shifted, now that she was more confident in herself. “I crave distraction as much as the next girl, and there have been precious few distractions ever since your boy toy told you that he would rather eat a blaster bolt than spend time with you. And you threw yourself hard at that one, and it still wasn’t enough.” The shadow paused momentarily to adopt an exaggerated thinking pose before speaking again, “Oh, oh no, he even said that after you changed everything about yourself, and it turns out the problem wasn’t that you were an alien, you just weren’t good enough. I mean he did think that you were down with child murder, and there’s no Cathar baby eating stereotypes to blame that on. Face it kiddo, you’re just not relationship material. So why not slut it up with one of the Krath, it’s so easy for you to pretend in those hot, sticky fumblings that maybe, just this once someone will want more from you than a hookup, and the rock bottom that you hit afterwards is always delicious.” “Not in the mood?” the shadow implored, “Just kill some people, we both know that you’re hot for homicide. Just delude yourself into thinking it’s for a good cause, you know, like the Jedi do. I mean, I don’t want to be a kath or anything, but your whole… situation here is kind of straight up fairy tale monster.” The shadow was gesturing to her face, where Nyrys’s incandescent eyes and needle sharp teeth resided. “Hurtful, but let’s put a pin in the personal criticism for now,” Nyrys responded dismissively, “I actually brought you out to talk about what I need to improve on in terms of training and kit. I figured that if anyone would be capable of relentless criticism of my performance, it would be you.” “Hard to criticise what you’re doing when you’re all over the damned place. Are you a wrecking ball or a pretty pretty ballerina of murder, enquiring minds would like to know. But even you don’t have that figured out and it shows. Yes, you’ve gotten lucky in combat so far, but at some point you’re going to have to muster the courage to actually make a lasting decision in your life if you want to progress past your current abilities. Your ability to handle anything at range is comparative to your ability to handle adult situations, and your armor is a relic from your apprenticeship. I can’t really say anything negative about your companions in combat, since you don’t have any, but on the flipside that means that there’s no one around to bail you out when you inevitably fail and ruin everything.” “Good talk, now off you go back into the depths of my subconscious.” Nyrys willfully shoved the phantom out of the forefront of her mind, drenched in sweat from the training she had been doing while her mind had checked out. While in the moment it was easy to dismiss what the shadow had said about her so that she could move on to what she wanted to ask, its observations lingered in her mind afterwards. In retrospect it made her feel shallow to be so concerned about things like romance when there was a war going on, but this was her subconscious, her unedited fears and doubts, and probably almost everyone was just as selfish in their heart of hearts. ----------------------------------------------------------- Time passed at greater speed as her mind became accustomed to her new training regimen, although her body was granted no such peace, and each goal met was replaced with another more distant goal. Her limbs were transitioning from clay to steel, and soon they owned the power that coursed within them, rather than borrowing it from eldritch paths. With her talent in illusionry blossoming she was becoming less and less concerned about how her choices were affecting her appearance. The temple itself had come a long way too, the Krath had finished their work and departed earlier this day cycle, after putting down the remaining slaves. It was hard to call any structure designed by space wizards and erected by slaves humble or modest, but the temple was a pale shadow compared to the Dark Lord’s tower on Onderon. The collection of black pyramidal buildings was hers though, and hers alone. The forge, located near the apex of the main pyramid, was one of the most exciting features of the new temple, a pulsing heart of the complex reminiscent of her own pearlescent core. With the Krath gone Nyrys could finally have some alone time with her new toy. She passed the threshold only to find the illusion of solitude shattered by the presence of a cloaked figure idling in the forge. “I thought that you were supposed to all be off world by now,” she cautiously said to the Krath, “It was my understanding that the construction and internal system work was complete.” While not thrilled with any lingering presence, Nyrys knew better than to tear the intruder apart, literally or metaphorically. The Krath were the planners and providers of the Sith, any major project could only be completed with their blessing, and they were more than capable of ruining the prospects of anyone that snubbed them. Besides, if her father had been a Sith like she suspected, he had probably been a Krath with his formidable knowledge of science and medicine. She couldn’t imagine an asthmatic ginger going far in the ranks of the warriors. “I was observing a migration of the local fauna for my research and I guess the ship left early, it’s not a problem.” Something about his inflection suggested that it was a problem. It was a strain that she was intimately familiar with from before she had joined the Sith. It was the tone betrayal and hurt being choked down by pride and shame. “Well, now I have someone on hand in case I damage something,” she said, adding confidingly, “You know us warriors, smashy smashy breaky breaky.” Nyrys had been the right mix of capable and lucky when she had advanced her place in the Sith, but not everyone was a good fit, or even if they were, the wrong people could make them feel like the wrong fit. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to have an in with the Krath. “Stay here as long as you need, just no wild parties unless I’m invited. Back at uni people would always forget to invite me.”
  2. Mustafar, a molten hellscape that still somehow supported life. The volcanic surface invoked in Nyrys symbolic parallels to the Dark Side, and with vicious wildlife and a sparse population it was the perfect place for her to face the Onyx Mirror. Nyrys was not alone, she had brought with her dark architects of the Krath, and slaves to see their nightmarish designs a reality. Generally speaking, Nyrys had no love of the Sith’s propagation of the slave trade, but this was to be a place obscured from the rest of the galaxy, and that meant no survivors after construction was completed. They were better off dead anyway, given how most masters treated their slaves. Amidst the dire heat black stone was hewn, moved, and settled into place under the direction of the sorcerers. The initial construction broke many of the workers, and the Krath euthanized them without a second thought before binding their spirits to the edifices they were erecting. Unfortunate, but this was all for a greater purpose. The Sith needed to be strong enough to break the chains that were strangling the galaxy. Nyrys watched it all in rapt anticipation. She had negotiated on behalf of the Sith in the past, gathered allies and won over strongholds to the Emperor’s vision of a unified galaxy, but this was the first time that she was doing something that could be considered building her own legacy. The beginnings of black pyramids began to rise, reflecting her adopted heritage. One day they would look like teeth poised to devour the stars.
  3. While most of the displays in the museum were not imbued with the Force in any meaningful way, walking through the halls of such a collection of defining remnants of the past still demanded a solemn reverence. When the galaxy seemed stuck in a state of ceaseless turmoil it was important to remember that in the grand picture this was but a moment. One day this war would be a display in a museum too. The freelancer had cleared out, new orders from on high. Of course the Dark Troopers were still here, but they were oblivious to the grandeur of their surroundings. Outside, the pageantry of war played out, but in these walls there was glorious stillness. No bored and disinterested tourists, no screaming, rowdy children, and no idiots more interested in getting holo captures of themselves with the art than the art themselves. She entered the wing titled “Masterpieces of Expression” and experienced art that before she had only seen in data archives. A torrent of snapshots of the soul overwhelmed her with depictions of sadness, joy, loss, hope, anger, and desire, and she willingly succumbed to the pandemonium of it all. Not every piece landed for her, nor would she pretend to understand some of the more alien pieces, but she found the majority of the works awesome in the original sense of the word. Of course at the moment she could only go off of what had been emotionally imbued by the artists onto the mediums, the actual images still a mystery to her unnatural eyes. The sculptures that were present offered both physical and emotional insight, since her sight could define physical boundaries. Most of the exhibit was composed of “new” pieces, new in that they were not part of the original curated collection. The majority of the prior pieces were destroyed when that pfasker Faust wanted to let everyone know that his mommy didn’t hug him enough as a child by destroying large swathes of Coruscant. A small handful of works had escaped destruction through sheer luck, having been offworld for special maintenance, but an overwhelming amount was lost. It was a gut wrenching loss for those who cared about the paths we’ve collectively walked and the wonders that our cultures have collectively produced, but it was poor form to speak of such things with such a high death toll attached to the event. But here they were again, with Coruscant the target of another terrorist attack, and galactic history again threatened. Eventually this collection would also run out of luck and be lost in another squabble or attempt at genital waving. ...Or maybe not all of it. She scanned the silent, empty hallways furtively, seeing no trace of any life save for her own dark troopers. She understood the arterial pathways of the museum from her own past experiences. The Galactic Museum would have created the baseline protocols and methodologies that almost all other major museums would follow, afterall. She melted away into the hidden infrastructure of the building, where the preservation and transportation equipment was kept out of the eyes of the public. Darth Nyrys didn’t take everything, this wasn’t an act of blind greed or arrogant conquest. The more she watched the galaxy tear itself apart, though, the less she trusted the community at large to take care of what mattered to her. Both history and her own experiences made her look at sentient life as an easily panicked animal, prone to tearing itself to shreds in thrashing bouts of terror. In order to protect anything though, she needed to be stronger. The pursuit of power to protect what mattered to her was never ending. Part of her wanted to just get away from the grind on a star yacht somewhere far away from everything, but that was just a stalling tactic, reality would still be waiting for her. She needed to go somewhere that she could further her training, challenge herself physically, and evolve into something more powerful. Somewhere isolated from distractions. A place to reforge herself into something greater. She carefully loaded the pieces of art that she wanted into a shuttle before clearing her departure. The Sith army could secure the capital without her, and she had work to do.
  4. The sky had exploded into flurries of high speed movement and weapons fire as the Crusaders tried to pick away at the advancing Sith, with none of them even having the decency to come into stabbing range. Dark troopers were resilient, but even they could be downed by a basilisk’s arsenal given the chance. “Ranged assets, dig in and keep the crusaders busy while our close quarters forces begin clearing out the museum, additional support isn’t far behind us. There’s something inside the building that requires our immediate attention.” Darth Nyrys and a squad of dark troopers covertly entered the museum, leaving the firefight to confront an unknown threat. ==================== After moving the target vessel from the debris field, Sith forces began the boarding process, prioritizing securing the bridge, engineering, and the reactor.
  5. The Ashoriath The Ashoriath are large sentient spiders that have evolved to manipulate and dominate other sentient creatures into doing their bidding. The earliest records of their culture come from the civilizations of adjacent species, regarding the arachnids as divine beings after falling under their sway. An Ashoriath would use their influence to war with the thralls of other Ashoriath in the region, not out of hatred or the desire for more resources, but simply for sport or to impress a potential mate. The Ashoriath might have existed indefinitely in isolation if not for the eventual evolution of Force sensitive members in their species. Even without proof, they instinctively knew that there was a larger theater upon which to perform their grand manipulations, and they hungered for an existence of true greatness. The Ashoriath have an inherent connection to the Dark Side, and while their initial fumbling flirtations failed, they eventually managed to design blood rituals that would beckon explorers to cross the expansive void and bring their world into a grander game. Biology An adult Ashoriath’s body can be anywhere from one and a half to three meters long, composed of two segments, the cephalothorax and abdomen. They have eight eyes and legs, can see in multiple spectrums, and possess powerful sensory organs designed to register sound and vibration. Internally, a veritable chemistry lab of pheromone replicators and hallucinogenic/euphoric compound excretors provide the Ashoriath with the means to disorient and control the weak minded of prey species. These chemicals could be dispersed into the air around the spider, or injected directly into a victim for a significantly more intense dosage. A stinger in the abdomen can inject a paralyzing venom into prey that also serves as a predigestion agent, turning their insides into soup. While older Ashoriath are capable of weaving vast webs, younger generations have evolved away from that method of hunting, retaining only limited web production capabilities that they generally only use for limited mobility enhancement and creating a personal lair/nest area after inhabiting an area for some time. Most Ashoriath have black carapaces with brightly colored monochrome patterns on their abdomens, and their eyes can be a range of colors such as red, blue, green, orange, or yellow. Their eyes and carapace markings can generate bioluminescence, serving as a threat display and additional layer of expression when communicating. Ashoriath are capable of near immortal life spans, and so their mating habits are focused more on the availability of territory to expand than replacing older generations. Females display parasitoid behaviours, implanting their eggs in prey species. While the hatchlings are consuming the host they instinctively replicate the neural pathways related to language, allowing them to communicate with that species without having to learn the language. In their galactic expansion, this makes polyglots particularly valuable hosts. There is also an unverified belief that using Force sensitives as hosts will increase the chances of the hatchlings also being Force sensitive. For centuries on their homeworld this led to extreme isolationist behavior, but now that they have gained the ability to colonize other worlds they are beginning to develop communal behaviors. Amongst themselves, the Ashoriath communicate in a combination of infrasound, clicking sounds, and bioluminescent pulses. When communicating with prey species they use a short range (thirty meters) form of local telepathy. Culture Heavily associating their culture with the mentality of apex predation, the Ashoriath regard anything that they can kill or dominate as a prey species, regardless of sentience. While territorial, they are unlikely to directly lash out at each other or create any situation that could be read as vulnerability by outsiders, instead preferring to establish power dynamics through the manipulation of catspaws. There are, however, traditions in place to allow for a truly weak member of the species to be culled if a unanimous consensus of its neighbors find it deficient. Despite being megalomaniacal murder spiders, the Ashoriath are extremely egalitarian in terms of gender. Females of the species are judged by the same metric as males, and the self sufficiency of hatchlings along with the ability to indoctrinate attendants mean that female Ashoriath are largely free to pursue their own agendas even when raising hatchlings. The instruction of hatchlings was seen as a communal responsibility even in the old days, with education being a way to further secure the species’ dominance. Ashoriath hatchlings use their telepathy on prey species as a sort of white noise to disrupt their ability to process what they are seeing. Ashoriath lose this ability upon entering adulthood. Despite their superiority complexes, the Ashoriath do appreciate the cultural output of prey species, often curating vast collections of art and music, and using their influence to support artists that appeal to them. The Ashoriath language is itself particularly melodic for those that can hear it. Among their own kind, the Ashoriath see their great games as their cultural art, a medium that expresses their superiority. The exception to this are the Force sensitive Ashoriath, who find deep satisfaction from using the Force to create on their own terms without intermediaries. Ashoriath and the Force The Ashoriath regard Force sensitivity among their own as just another means to become a better predator. They have no interest in its religious aspects, and to them it seems completely logical that the universe would hand over control of its laws to the most powerful species. For obvious reasons, the Ashoriath consider the Sith to be natural allies with similar philosophies. There is a mutant offshoot of Ashoriath that suffers from albinism and severely underdeveloped pheromone replicators, leaving them unable to manipulate prey species like the rest of their species. They’ve compensated by retaining the web production capacity of the older Ashoriath, and tend to hunt along the outskirts of civilization. Ironically, they often develop more symbiotic and genuine relationships with what the other Ashoriath would consider prey species, and it would not be impossible for such an open minded being to potentially consider the Jedi path if it was Force sensitive. Regular Ashoriath tend to disregard these mutants, as they aren’t a threat to territory and technically aren’t a prey species. Both light and dark Ashoriath Force users prefer strategy and planning to brute force, and often consider other species rash and impractical. Dark Ashoriath tend to disdain fieldwork, preferring instead to work behind the scenes as strategists and sorcerers. Despite their terrifying appearances, Ashoriath Jedi would be of great use in subduing criminals and other threats without killing them.
  6. Primary Account: Darth Nyrys Discord: Darth Nyrys Chad Active Characters: Darth Nyrys
  7. Duel Ruling on Raven vs Qaela: I can go into a deeper critique after work, but illness has already delayed progression long enough. Both writers focused tightly on realistic actions in the duel, and Force use was largely kept to supporting actions or with realistic buildup (It wouldn't have hurt to have a bit more build up on the Force Storm, but as a master it still felt within reason for the character given the smaller area). I believe that the deciding factor for me was Raven's decision to switch between light and dark mid duel. While I'm aware that Raven has had training in both sides of the Force, the transition felt too much like flipping a switch, rather than shifting between two opposing methods/mindsets of using the Force. Winner: Qaela
  8. Vice Admiral Nyarro regarded the wounded ship warily, and chewed its behavior down to the bone before he issued his orders. While the crusaders were religious extremists, they didn’t spend lives pointlessly, the more logical conclusion was that the ship was unmanned and being run by its computer and perhaps a basic droid crew. “Seize the ship with tractor beams and haul it out of the hazard area. Once our own ships are clear of the debris we can begin boarding actions.” ====================== Even through her chembreather Darth Nyrys’s nostrils burned from the scent of chemical fires and acrid fumes as her dropship neared the landing zone. The whole world was on fire, and no one possessed both the desire and means to douse the flames. The museum loomed over the landscape impressively, visible from their landing zone in the ruins of a former Imperial parade square turned Galactic Alliance memorial. She was indifferent to most of the displays, but one particular section took a rocket to the everything for having the audacity to exist. An uncomfortable giddiness was seeping into her from the excessive presence of the Dark Side, a far more literal version of the phrase guilty pleasure. There was a definite bounce in her step as she lead her troops towards the museum, and she couldn’t even convince herself that it was out of excitement to experience such a prestigious collection of artifacts and art. Her insides were a cauldron of manic energy and tense nerves as she moved deeper into enemy territory, but something nibbled at the edges of her mind as she neared the museum. An ill wind moved through her bones and curdled her stomach, and she felt that something worse than pirates awaited her at her destination. Up ahead, the sounds of combat could be heard, given the level of firepower involved, probably freelancers mopping up pirates for Sith credits. Her escorts readied themselves and ran precombat diagnostics in silence, Dark Troopers had no need for stirring speeches to quell nerves or bolster resolve, they were simply killing machines. With a dismissive gesture the unit advanced in sepulchral silence to strike the enemy from behind...
  9. OOC((Author’s intent on tactical name mistakes, Nyrys is new to fleet command)) As her comrades penetrated the interior of a large enemy vessel, Nyrys’s forces had been dispatched to cross off a more elusive threat. While most of the Crusader ships were pre-existing designs, the target they were tasked with was something until now unseen. Judging by the jamming that it was putting out and its external apparatuses, the ship was designed for electronic warfare. Nyrys hadn’t come to this conclusion on her own, she had consulted the captains of her Kuati task force for guidance. Now she addressed her commands on a secured holo line. “This is Queen Actual, we have located an enemy vessel that is new, shiny, and Captain Illigrihm says would really bring my eyes and make this outfit pop, so I want it. The Queen will move with purpose to roust the ship from its hiding spot in the debris field while the Verdict and Truth circle around to perform a double... development and cut off any attempt to escape. Our escort ships will create a perimeter circle… sphere, I mean sphere, around our forces in case the target asset calls in fighter support. Once the shields are breached, offer terms and send in our marines unless a reactor spike is detected, in which case scuttle it starting with engines to prevent any attempt at a ramming suicide attack. Vice Admiral Nyarro has the con while I’m planetside, good hunting.” Addressing her forces about fleet maneuvers was an uncomfortable ordeal for Nyrys, who had less formal tactical education than almost all of her bridge crew, but commanding fleets was a necessary part of being a Sith. She would not run from what was required of her, or cling to her laurels in other endeavors. She would adapt as necessary and rise to the challenge, as she had in the past. A second secure transmission was sent through the long range comms to her apprentice 03. It was time for him to give an accounting of what he had accomplished during his time amongst the Mandalorians, and for them to begin paying their honor debt to the Sith. Besides, it would be good to see a familiar face. Drogo had been burying himself in his work since Dark Sun, Nyrys guessed everyone dealt with that situation in their own way. “Milady, one of our ground assets is reporting higher than anticipated resistance and field loss of supplies,” reported comm officer Galenti, “They’re pressing forward but command is expressing concern about their ability to complete their objective in their current condition.” Nyrys already knew exactly which asset it was without even looking. Delta was under the scrutiny of the Dark Lord now, and even unavoidable failure could result in severe punishment. She did some mental math, chewing the numbers down to the bone in her mind before responding. “The generator is a key objective, dispatch a platoon of our Ishi Tib marines to reinforce and resupply them. Have them inform the unit leader that he owes me a sincere and extensive recording of how very, very pretty I am.” Her own forces would have a significant Ishi Tib presence, but it would be dark troopers outfitted with precision weapons and close quarters programming that went with her in the interior of the museum. Too much was at risk to chance the potential of so many stray shots, and even though droids were less likely to understand what was at stake, they were ironically more willing to sacrifice everything to protect it. The museum was vast, city sized on its own even if it was separated from the surrounding… well city. Coruscant had a peculiar way of messing with a person’s sense of scale. Enormity became commonplace. The supporting complexes of museum staff and labs could be handled by the Ishi Tib and Sith troopers. After everything Coruscant had been through, it was time the survivors saw some friendly faces. The drop ships departed, and Nyrys began her descent to the remains of a dead world. Upon arrival they would set up a defensive perimeter around the LZ and start establishing a beachhead.
  10. The broken throne of the galaxy, Coruscant, rushed into view from the bridge of the Queen of Air and Darkness, one of the newly constructed Xian'tii war ships. The smell of salt water pervaded the air around Darth Nyrys, for most of the ship was, for lack of a better term, flooded to accommodate it's aquatic xeno crew. The crew in the command pool was excited for their first deployment, and somewhat relieved that it would be something less full scale than the battle at Dark Sun. The Queen and a Kuati task force of Ardent and Raider class ships took up position by the Dark Lord's ship, any threats would have to pass them before they could target the flagship. The Whispered Truth and the Brazen Verdict were further out, on the hunt for targets. Upon reaching planet side, Nyrys looked forward to evaluating her troops as they cut their teeth for the first time under her command. What she had was excellent material and fine tools to sculpt with, potential but not necessarily results. In time she would know what her soldiers were truly capable of, but first they had to land. She had never been to Coruscant, her father considered it a deathtrap with the constant wars and terrorist attacks, and certainly no place for a child. Rumor had it that the rogue lunatic Faust had finally truly broken the planet though, and the Crusaders were picking the corpse. The rumors may have been right, at least about the damage. Chunks of planet and moon propelled so far by the impact that they made orbit drifted lazily in the void. Traffic lanes had been replaced with the pandemonium of mass ship graveyards from failed attempts to escape the violence on the planet. Crusader corsair ships sized up the approaching darkness as it cast a shadow over their former spoils. Sensor feeds were constantly delivering new information, and one bit that surprised Nyrys was that while the Museum of Coruscant had been heavily damaged, the structure was still somewhat intact. While the suffering of the people on the surface was tragic, the museum housed objects of immeasurable cultural value that were irreplaceable. Nyrys's first objective was clear.
  11. Green Heavy Brawler Escort(capital ship, 1 XP) The Queen of Air and Darkness: A Reprisal class Xian’tii battleship that marked the beginning of Xian’tii ship designs seeing use in the Sith navy. Darth Nyrys personally vouched for the inclusion of more xeno sourced ship designs, and the Queen is her personal banner ship. The Queen’s heavy armor and unpredictable movements match Darth Nyrys’s own style in combat. While the ship itself is operated almost entirely by Xian’tii crewmembers, security is overseen by AVATAR proxies and a contingent of Ishi Tib marines. As a newer ship, discipline and professionalism are points of pride for the crew, and Darth Nyrys constantly leverages the fact that this is the first xeno designed ship to serve in the empire in decades to leverage better performance. The crew is well trained and idealistic, but lacks field experience. Green Destroyer Group[Missiles] (Two Cruisers, 1 XP) Whispered Truth and Brazen Verdict: A pair of Xian’tii Insidiator class cruisers that were deployed shortly after the Queen of Air and Darkness. While they are less concerned with legacy than the Queen, a professional rivalry that began in the training academy pushes both crews to achieve a competitive edge over the other. Both captains, despite their differences, follow the Xian’tii teachings of Makuta and make heavy use of guided missile strikes and mobile warfare. The Insidiator class cruiser, with its superior mobility and indirect fire weapons makes for an excellent tool to practice the Makuta martial philosophy. Green Defensive Escort (Four Frigates and Twelve Corvettes, 1 XP) Jendra’s Song, Atani’s Vigil, Xuri’s Resolve, and the Lucky Pair: A set of four Ardent class frigates repurposed for anti fighter duties, the ships seem out of place amongst the more alien ships often uses. However, Darth Nyrys is proud of her Kuati heritage and chose the ships to honor her father. Three of the ships are named after friends from her life before she joined the Sith, and the fourth name she hasn’t elaborated on. Darth Nyrys intentionally fosters an atmosphere of unprofessionalism and impropriety on the ships to combat the formation of stagnating hatred that drives men and women to sell their lives cheaply. The rebels will pay for their crimes at Kuat, but not at the cost of Kuat’s sons and daughters. Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Omicron, Upsilon,Theta, Sigma, Omega, Mu, Tau, Psi, Kappa: Accompanying the frigates are twelve Raider class corvettes. Corvette crews are “highly motivated” to perform their duties exceptionally so that they can get promoted off the ships and onto something that the other ship captains don’t refer to as “acceptable attrition”. Raiders are designed for hit and run ground support, but in fleet battle simulations so far they’re often ordered to “intercept” attacks on more valuable ships. Serving in one of the corvette groups is often considered a punishment, especially for crew transferred off of a larger vessel. Nicknamed coffin riders, command has already noticed trends indicating discipline issues and disorderly conduct problems are on the horizon. Link to creation forum post for Xian'tii ships: Here
  12. ((I have included basic 3d mock ups of the ships since they are not canon and I couldn't find anything comparable online through image search. Please pardon my terrible 3d art skills. Xian’tii Ships Xian’tii vessels are notorious for using designs that incorporate tendrils to allow for more elegant implementations of systems like shields and propulsion. This is primarily expressed in two different configurations, the defensive forward configuration that creates a shifting series of layered shields allowing for the crew to distribute incoming fire and blunt focused enemy attacks, and the evasive rear configuration that allows for superb maneuverability in ways that most other current ships simply aren’t capable of. The configurations are referred to as siren and lurker, respectively. No ship has both, due to power and budget constraints. Xian’tii ships have a very organic appearance, similar to the Mon Calamari designs, but with cephalopoidal traits and more predatory lines. Siren format ships tend to favor indirect fire weapons, or high power low fire rate weapons that can be set up to fire in coordination with the shield tendril movements. Lurker format ships are currently evaluating the pros and cons of aggressive forward firing arcs, evenly distributed firing arcs, and indirect fire weapons. Siren Vessels (Battleships/capital ships) Reprisal class battleship (Queen of Air and Darkness): Reprisal class ships are powerful defensive brawlers, built to escort high value ships and punish enemies that try to close in. Several armored shield tendrils protrude from the front of the ship, creating an ever changing pattern of interwoven energy shield plates. The main hull slants up and tapers off in the rear, making the ship one of the most squidlike in overall appearance, and while it uses standard laser cannons for point defense, its heavier ordnance is largely composed of indirect fire missiles and minecasters located on its “wings”. Lurker Vessels (Corvettes/Frigates/Cruisers) Insidiator class Cruiser (Whispered Truth): Insidiators are agile destroyers, largely resembling a more organic and sleeker take on the arrowhead design of star destroyers. The Insidiator is not a ship built for head to head attrition combat, instead relying on constant repositioning and precision missile fire to destroy enemies through speed and guile. Insidiators have a sophisticated forward sensor hub that is often mistaken for the main bridge, which in fact is located on the ship’s ventral side.
  13. Darth Nyrys


    Xian’tii An aquatic species of sapient mammal cephalopod hybrids believed to have originated as the result of Sith alchemy. Possessing humanoid upper bodies and octopus like lower halves, the Xian’tii function best underwater, but possess the ability to switch between breathing air and using neck gills. Xian’tii skin comes in a variety of iridescent blue and purple tones, marked by bioluminescent patterns. Almost all Xian’tii are connected to a gestalt emotional awareness that shares and magnifies what would be considered Dark Side emotions, allowing Xian’tii to warn other Xian’tii with fear, rally them with anger, and call for aid with suffering. This awareness has a directional and spatial component, sort of like feeling ripples on the surface of a body of water. A metaphorical tiny pebble is harder to trace and travels a shorter distance than a cascade of giant boulders. Xian’tii have an inherent aptitude for strategy and cunning, with much of their early survival as a species having been dependent on their ability to outthink and surprise predators. Culturally, the Xian’tii have no concept of the idea of a fair fight, instead prizing preparedness, maintaining the element of surprise, and finishing a conflict before the enemy knows it has started. This mentality, along with their gestalt emotional awareness, has led to the development of a unique warrior code that makes virtues of discipline, confidence in one’s abilities, perfectionism, and deception. Surety of success in any attack is key to avoiding a cascading fear reaction. To commit to a plan of action and be crippled by fear is considered to be a hellworthy trespass, and to doubt leaders in such a way demands a challenge of authority or exile for such shameful thoughts. The Xian’tii are allied to the Sith, both on account of their likely origins and out of fear of a Jedi pogrom for their inherent Dark Side connection. The Sith are experimenting with integrating Xian’tii starship designs in their navy, with the intent to find a counter to the rebellion’s smaller, more agile ships.
  14. There was an unspoken distance at the feast between Darth Nyrys and the rank and file. Her reputation as a literal maneater was spreading, and while that didn’t stop the troops from checking her out, it still meant that they kept a healthy distance. She wasn’t in the mood for such things anyway, so admired from afar worked for her. This was the first time in a long time that she had the ability to simply sit and think. She did not care for it, not one bit. In theory the brawl should have appealed to her, but in reality, she didn’t know how to fight without killing. In her anthro classes at uni, they had talked about the sword being a symbol for war because it was often the first weapon societies would invent solely for the purpose of war. Other weapons either doubled as tools or implements for hunting, but the sword was of singular purpose. Right now Darth Nyrys felt like a sword at peace time. An unusually close presence disturbed Nyrys from her moping, a Sith trooper, tall even by Sith trooper standards, loomed over her. It would have been an imposing presence if the soldier’s mumbling hadn’t been picked up by his helmet mic. A vague familiarity clung to the man, and her unnatural sight revealed him to be different from his peers. Most Sith troopers had blood on their hands, but this one was clean, and through the lens of the Force his armor looked like the polished metal of a questing knight of forgotten eras. He looked like the kind of person Nyrys wanted to be fighting for, protecting him and others like him from the hypocrisy of the Jedi. “Look buddy, I think you’re still a few beers short of having the courage to hit on me or whatever, but I like the look of you so while you’re trying to find a line in the bottom of a glass you can sit next to me.” Somehow she could tell through the armor that he was flustered and searching for words, which he found at last, “I’m... looking for a girl…” “That is… not the best pick up line I’ve heard, but it’s by far not the worst either. You’re in luck, tall awkward and armored, because I am in fact a girl. Mostly. Bits of monster mixed in.” “Her name is Ailbasí, Ailbasí Zirtani.” It was weird enough to feel the presence of a ghost, but for that ghost to be the disquietude of her old life was a whole new level of strange. Nyrys had intentionally distanced herself from anything even marginally related to her past, cutting out even close friends and family. She had seen early on how wanton some Sith could be with violence towards bystanders and didn’t want anyone she cared about becoming collateral damage. But it didn’t surprise her that someone might come looking anyway, or at least hire someone to look into it. “I know her, but this just turned into a private conversation. Follow me.” She got up and started to lead him away from prying ears. “Ma’am, my friend is also looking for her, he’ll probably want to hear this too, may he join us?” Ailbasí would have had very large concerns with going somewhere private with two presumably armed and armored strangers. Darth Nyrys however did not live a life ruled by fear and potential hazards, so she responded coyly with, “Well, if he’s cute.” “He certainly thinks so…” the trooper responded with no small amount of frustration in his voice. ===================== The soldier’s friend turned out to be a field officer, although he kept his armor better maintained and polished than most bridge officers. His bearing wasn’t just disciplined, it felt in some way regal. He was attached to a different unit than the first trooper, so most likely they knew each other outside of the chain of command. When the door shut, he spoke first. “We’ve been trying to find her since her abduction on Onderon. We found her ship on Cathar, along with a body, but for some reason my compatriot swears upon all of the stars that he has a feeling that she’s still alive. And while I think that he’s crazy, you never know with cloning technology these days. So we’re still asking around, and your name came up a few times in regards to her. So if you know anything, even if it’s the fact that she died on Cathar, please, let us know.” Nyrys regarded each of them for a time, a tumult of emotions swirling inside her gut. She could lie, give them some measure of closure. Were they actually Sith troopers? Or were they just stupid enough to try and sneak on board an active warship in disguises? If the latter, it was a security breach that needed to be addressed quickly. Also, if the tall one was actually sensing her condition through the Force without training, that could make him a powerful asset with the right training. “A feeling, huh?” she responded casually, “Have you reported to special projects for testing? If you turn up positive, I have room in my schedule for an apprentice.” “Every trooper gets tested as part of processing these days. They said I was about as Force sensitive as a nerf and cheese sandwich, but they also said that sometimes regular folk can get residual effects from exposure to a powerful practitioner like a Sith. SpecPro said that you lot call them bonds or leashes.” With sudden anticipation and a “feeling” of her own, Nyrys reached up and removed the trooper’s helmet. Even with her completely unreasonable heels she had to stretch a fair bit to get it all the way over. She couldn’t see the way that she had on Onderon, so she ran her gloved fingers over his face to compare it to features in her memory. “...Knell?” Knell had been the rookie cop on Onderon that had interceded when she had been attacked. It was before her training had begun in earnest, and without his intervention she would have died. Even without hearing a verbal confirmation she knew in her soul that it was him, and with a joyfulful eardrum shattering squeal she launched herself into a pouncing hug. “Is… is she attacking you?” The voice of the mystery friend sounded more than a little amused. “I don’t know, I’m confused,” Knell responded. “No dumbass, I’m overenthusiastically hugging you. When I died on Cathar I hopped bodies to this one, because apparently that is a thing that I can do. Be honest, does this look do anything for you? Because I’ve been striking out a lot since I switched into it and… WAIT, you didn’t enlist just to find me did you?” Crazy awesome body strength let her keep her perch while jabbing him with an accusatory finger. “Now I’m somehow even more confused. But I didn’t enlist to find you, I enlisted because I felt it was my duty to join after the Jedi tried to attack Onderon twice. I became a cop to protect people, but with the war returning there is only so much I can do with a badge. Finding you just happened to coincide with that. Side note, do you know who shot me at the hospital, because I have words for them.” Nyrys finally released Knell from her hug before speaking again, sheepishly this time. “That was… well, kind of my ex, but it’s super over now. My life was very crazy for awhile, and when I found someone that I thought I could have some stability with, I latched on without really considering what he wanted out of it. He didn’t hurt me or anything, I think he was just too damaged to reciprocate in the way that I wanted. I didn’t handle it in the most mature manner, but I still think ending things was the right decision. It’s not my job to fix people that I’m dating.” At this point the mystery officer chimed in, “I did join for a girl, but it was a different girl and she left me and my shattered heart behind when she decided to go full career upon making bridge crew for a star destroyer. I was drowning my sorrows in brandy when I heard Corporal Maqlin asking about you. I don’t remember much of the conversation, or much of that night for that matter, but apparently I promised to help him find you. That being said I must admit that I am relieved to find you well, miss Zirtani.” It was Nyrys’s turn to be confused again, “Do I know you from Uni or something…?” The officer removed his helmet before speaking again in a voice that Nyrys instantly recognized, “I don’t know, did you watch holotoons in college?” Nyrys almost launched into another hug but stopped mid pounce. “Am I allowed to hug you… yee… thee… wait, I’m a Sith, I don’t have to acknowledge etiquette hugging boundaries!” She had spent less time with the crown prince than Knell during her time on Onderon, but he had a special place in her heart from the roles she had seen him in (or heard him in when it came to voice acting). So he too got a hug. After a brief silence, Nyrys spoke again, far more solemnly this time, “You’re going to hear things about me, things that you won’t want to believe are true. I need you both to understand that they are probably true, or at least based on truths. If circumstances were different, I would beg you to save me from what I’ve become, but we’ve all seen what the Jedi and their allies are capable of. I need to be this monster that I’ve become if there’s going to be any hope of stopping them. I hope that you can accept that, but if you can’t, then I need you to walk away because it won’t be safe for you to be around me. Not going to lie, I considered letting you think that I had died to protect you from who I am now, but we’re all adults here and able to make our own choices.” The following silence was sobering, but what she had said had all been things that needed to be said. Too many people depended on her for her to try and pretend to be the girl that she used to be. The days of mercurial desire and idly pivoting direction to get what she wanted were fading away as the only true constant in the galaxy loomed ever closer, war. “That ugliness aside, it means a lot that you came this far to find me. I’m not really in a place to figure out what to do with that right now, and I think we all need to come to terms with how each other has changed. I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks, and that I need time to process all of this.”
  15. “As you wish, my king.” And now it’s time for a cold shower. She gave Telpierian a nod as she departed, any other words between them could wait for the brawl. With the moment over, the blood coating her lost its manic energy, and the euphoria departed, leaving behind only messy and uncomfortable sensations. After a thorough cleaning Nyrys put on an outfit that could be best described as duelist femme fatale, with an orange half skirt belt, blank leather pants, and a white long sleeve button up blouse over which was a black corsette with gold embroidery. Gloves and a pair of boots with heels so savage they were putting her assassin training and skill with the Force to the test completed the outfit itself. As she had done on Mandalore, rather than wear a mask, she used body paint to create her Sith persona directly on her face. A white base to represent the sacredness of the self. Black around the eyes and on the lips as a metaphor for peering into and tasting the abyss. Two crimson tear lines representing her mourning for Kamino and Kuat below her right eye. Before she headed out, she stopped to check the holonet to see what people were saying about the battle at Dark Sun, if anything. The Jedi and rebels always tried so hard to cast themselves as the heroes in the galactic conflict, despite their obvious failings, and it usually made for a good laugh. What she found however, was anything but funny. While no one was certain yet whether it was the Jedi or Galactic Alliance ultranationalists, or maybe even both working together, someone had overheated the reactor at Dark Sun, causing a meltdown and killing all crew and occupants through severe radiation. That by itself was a terrible discovery, but a horrific realization began to form in Darth Nyrys’s mind. The time of the tragedy correlated with her state of extended euphoria, most likely meaning that she had been feeding on the pain and death subconsciously. She felt monstrous. She felt nauseous and ashamed when she thought of how wantonly she had acted, fueled by misery and loss. How could she even begin to justify this? Her disgust was soon joined by pain, her teeth aching as if she had been punched in the mouth, and her eyes burned and bulged from alien pressure behind them. Nyrys suppressed a scream as her teeth were torn from her gums by rows of erupting fangs in a gruesome spray of blood and bone. Her vision went black with the sound of two distinct pops, followed by the crackling sizzle of her vitreous fluid. The melted remnants of her eyes poured from her sockets and were replaced with the crystalline hardness of the krayt dragon pearl eyes she had fashioned as an apprentice. However, with new eyes came new perspective. Yes, she had drawn energy from the attack, but what if next time she channeled that energy into hunting down and punishing the perpetrators? If I am so monstrous, then I should let myself be a monster instead of pretending to be a person. Darth Nyrys looked at the devil in the mirror and smiled, revealing a fanged maw that while out of place on a human, felt natural from her time as a Cathar. She did nothing to conceal her new changes, although she did braid her hair and weave some orange silk flower blossoms into it, because nothing had ever said that an agent of profane justice couldn’t also be a pretty pretty princess. Preparations complete, she headed to the festivities at the arena.
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