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Exodus

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  1. SITH EMPIRE ROUND EIGHT. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |0/14| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |32/23| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |0/10| RETREATED _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |0/10| DESTROYED 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 |0/6| 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| DESTROYED 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 DESTROYED 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: |1/8| ________
  2. ALLEGIANT The palace enclosures were quiet, each step as loud as brass atop the marbled parquet. Ethereal ambience sheathed the room in shadows and candlelit flames, burning outlandish herbs commandeered from darker planets abroad. Such searing incenses highlighted indelicate earthy aromas that filled the halls, as if one could taste the wilds of Dxun by breath alone. Temperaments were easily controlled by the atmosphere of any given situation; subliminal mastery of such, whether comprehending or manifesting, was a particular study that Lord Exodus was quite fond of. What he had failed to see within the first on Kuat, he now found in the second and third nominees that came after. Both Dathomiri and Mandalorian were the fiercest of mind and body, and as the two were considered, they exhibited an unannounced gallantry to the hierarchy of things. Refreshingly, a distracting show of self-importance was either non-existent or laid to the side in these instances. An anima of power laid dormant inside the set of two, and Exodus would be the hand that unleashed it. "Master Darksong, your timing is quite impeccable. Let us welcome Master Ardell. Of rich Mandalorian stock, undoubtedly. A creature of much promise," A slowed selections of words played to the conspicuous tone of the Emperor, words as tantalizing as the illusions he weaved. "He looks to build a tribe that would make worlds tremble before their name, the name of which would immortalize them forever. I know the filth in which he comes from, I buried the worst of them beneath Coruscanti rubble. —But, he wishes to become more." Exodus ironed his attention to the Mandalorians that stood before him now. "Master Darksong will comprise a seat on my open council, exercising one of the highest forms of autonomy known to the Empire. You may know nothing of me, I confess. But of anyone, their secrets are never far from reach. I would offer you the same as Master Darksong, if you can earn your weight in gold. Resources, Ships, Territories. All of it. Will Tros Ardell swear service to the King of the Sith, and bring his Mandalorians deliverance?
  3. EMPEROR "One who shows signs of mental aberration is, inevitably, perhaps, but cruelly, shut off from familiar, thoughtless intercourse, partly excommunicated; his isolation is unwittingly proclaimed to him on every countenance by curiosity, indifference, aversion, or pity, and in so far as he is human enough to need free and equal communication and feel the lack of it, he suffers pain and loss of a kind and degree which others can only faintly imagine, and for the most part ignore." I am here. The affirmation rang out as empty words into an open abyss, sunken echoes that faded lingeringly into a dominion of unmitigated shadow. Exodus meditated, cross-legged and alone, with a vicious darkness that stretched as far as the eyes could see and then further yet. His consciousness searched more composedly than last he had entered the Netherworld, for the frequency in which he had visited the land of the dead, began to produce a near-absolute fearlessness of the unknown. This breach between life and death was unlike the physical domain where he conquered and ruled, for the laws in which bound him were drastically different; a formidable center of gravity slowed his body and bones, the force slipped between his fingers as if catching grains of sand, and an endless horde of revenant spirits undoubtedly watched him here, undaunted by any foreign power. This was their home. With unyielding mettle he moved to stand, the King of the Sith pushing himself to his feet, watching each leg root themselves into fast-crawling wisps of black smoke. Muscles drew taut at the level of exertion needed to simply move, venting irritated breath from the nostrils of the Emperor. Whatever terrain this was, it was most certainly alive. A true suspense of yawning nothingness drawn out in every which direction, embracing him, becoming one with him. Ground bloated into watery black, a shimmering surface that was as solid as any substance in the material world. Dark flowing robes of onyx and aureate silk stood out against the dark panorama, bizarrely offering a measure of sight beyond where he stood. There was something there. An Anzati Warlord could pierce the night skies with their natural sight, and one born of the dark would always fare far better than the ordinary. His eyes burned with outstanding intensity as they boiled like running magma, searching out the figure before him. His mind became functioning gears of violence and strategy, as it always did when he was on the hunt. He moved to demand the Dark Will of the Force, but felt nothing. He spit, and then reached for the handle of his blade. “Face me.” _______________ "That will do nothing for you here," the voice crawled out in a low devilish tone as soon as the Mandalorian rested his hand uneasily on the holstered weapon. Waking abruptly from his meditations, Exodus could feel the power return in a flush through his veins. Venomous was the sound of his words, echoing acutely across the dark and empty halls, thrumming through their bodies. Much different than the void. A brooding figure sat with elbows over knees, and his face curiously buried inside the skin of his palms. Polished braziers attached to one side of each of the six marmoreal columns lit up every part of the throne hall and allowed shadows to play and dance where light could not reach. Countless bloodstones unearthed from the toil of Onderon, layered the ceiling and danced in the flickering light. Sculptures and hunted game looked down upon the slate floor of the magnificent hall, yearningly watching the mortals below. All of this played backdrop to the Sovereign Sith, heralded as both Destroyer of life and Savior of his kin. "Mandalorians. Do not insult me, be at ease." Exodus leaned back into the smooth surface of the decor, and ringed the half-filled glass of wine with a single finger, chasing the last vestiges of deep meditation from his psyche. "You wear the colors well, last son of Clan Ardell.. To what ends, would you see your clan rise once more?" No time wasted, the Spider awaited an answer.
  4. SITH EMPIRE ROUND SEVEN. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |0/17| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |32/25| Sith Empire Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Assigned PC: NPC (Qaela) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Assigned Callsign: Herløv Kyber-Class Star Destroyer, Herløv |0/10| RETREATED _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |0/10| DESTROYED 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 |0/6| 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| DESTROYED 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 DESTROYED 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: |11/10| ________ The Xhendora-Class Dreadnought hovered over the esteemed shipyard installation, its forward batteries raining beautiful death on the Rebel formations. On the tactical screen on the flagship's nigh-transparent deflector shields flickered and died. A few more bursts, and the display informed the tactical officer that the warship shield output had seized being operational. "The installation is mostly evacuated of civilian hosts, Captain Zloth'cal'duorii," the officer reported. The Captain of the Goliath nodded briskly. Zloth'cal'duorii was a thin, contentious man with cold virulent eyes, who had been in Imperial service since just after the end of the Onderonion Wars. "Excellent. Inform the boarding parties that they may proceed." Dozens of troop transports had previously launched from the Star Destroyer's hanger carrying specialized Imperial stormtroopers who would assist those that already occupied the defended shipyards, heading at their sluggish but sure pace for the installation. The Captain watched from the forward bridge, monitoring their progress on a tactical readout. The transports had heavy shields, but for the most part, held a direct line to the asset that they still had a loose grip on defending. When the transports reached the station's docking bay, shields dropping as they maneuvered to dock, the stormtroopers would fan out and reinforce the current manifest of largely deployed ground units. One of the Destroyer's numerous TIE squadrons swung around the transports in lazy loops, sensors scanning for any sign of Rebel interference. So far, the backdrop had been relatively clear, save for the bombing runs that chipped away at the stalwart formation of both the Goliath and the Minotaur. Omega Six braced for the jolt as the launch tractors grabbed her TIE and flung the tiny craft away from the hull of the Goliath. Punching the engines to full, she swung about and fell in beside Atom's craft. They formed behind the two TIEs piloted by Howl and Huntress. The old man's voice came over the comm. "Omega Wing, this is Omega Leader. Omega Five and Six, hang back and screen our objectives for any designated attack. Green on proton torpedo deployment, let them fly." "Copy, Omega Leader," Six acknowledged, though she was challenged by the direction personally. "Omega Six, this is Five," said 'Bucktoe', sounding troublesome as usual. "Did yah see how they peeled back that Nebula-class? Real cowboy shit if you ask me! Are we fixin' ta just sit 'ere and wait for 'em to tag these yellowbellies? These no-good rebel pilots are dropping like flies, they can't fly like us honey!" "Yes, Five, we're going to just sit here," 'Red Fox' said through clenched teeth. "But for crying out loud, Buck, be quiet. This is an open channel." "That's good advice, Buck." Huntress' voice said, level as always. "I suggest you take it." "Copy that, ladies," he said ruefully, watching as the rest of the Wing tore the opposition to shreds, wondering just how long the fleet itself had to hold out for.
  5. Nemesis Grid Sleeper Cells simply cannot chance an opportunity to be out of contact, under any circumstances. Sleepers use a microfine web of transceiver wiring and optical augmentation that contributes to their connectivity to Command on a Nemesis Grid. These units act as a built-in compad for the user and allow for reception and transmission of audio and visual recordings, the latter playing in an inset window in the user's field of vision. If the unit is operating outside of a standard comm grid, it has a transmission that extends exponentially by way of a wide-spread Nemesis relay bounce that is scattered throughout conquered territories. Sleepers can transmit basic visual diagrams and images to each other, as well as optical recordings. The sleeper cells were scattered within every active contingent, despite how thorough any of the autonomous Sith had been within their powerbase. Exodus was there; an ear, a tongue, and a dagger in the shadows to reveal itself whenever he desired. These cells moved with alacrity now, delivering what was instructed to assigned operatives all throughout the heirarchy of the Sith Empire. Amidst the thousands, Tros, Lady Zedrin, and Master Qaela were addressed briefly. "Onderon, launching point. Return home effective immediately. Command will instruct upon arrival."
  6. SITH EMPIRE ROUND FIVE. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |1/25| 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 |0/10| RETREATED _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |0/10| DESTROYED 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 |0/6| 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| DESTROYED 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 DESTROYED 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: |21/16| ________ The Imperial Admiral counted the losses methodically, understanding that warships lost on both sides were near evenly matched, despite the defeaning silence that sat within the ships of his allies. There was a suffocating loneliness that stifled the communication systems; just cold and calculated reports of damages and confirmed kills, panoramic displays of high-value targets ramming into one another and detonating in a grand splurge of ordinary life-forms. The Emperor had counted on this, but how could he know before it happened? Did he count on the desperate warmongering of the Rebel contingencies? Or was there greater work afoot? The Admiral shook the thoughts from his mind as another successful bombing run rattled into another enemy Carrier. The manuoevers executed here would be cataloged and praised in bravery whether the Admiral lived to see another day, or burned on the fraying corpse of this Flagship. It would be known that here, the Admiral stood by himself, in the face of his enemies, ensuring that enough time would pass. "The mission will soon be complete."
  7. HIGH ALERT The Sith Capital was an aristocratic sprawling of high architecture and extravagant nobility, separated by vast pockets of tropical overgrowth that spilled over deep canyons heated by geothermal vents. The walled cities of Onderon seethed with an overcrowd of behemoth warships that swallowed the skies every-which way. Large flight patterns of variable TIE formations patrolled just beneath and through the many mechanized walkers, transports and destroyers that suddenly suspended low in the planet’s atmosphere. Fortress world Onderon drew a hive-like energy that buzzed across every ocean, every city, and every burrow filled with war-ready sentient life. Iziz was a marveled jewel run amok with opulent red, black and aureate walkways of Imperial banners. Columns and columns of soldiers marched with intention, unloading themselves from scattered military compounds, and loading themselves onto a bevy of loaders and transports. The efficiency was not dissimilar to the assiduous competence of natural ant colonies, streaming forth in beautiful design. One particular vessel fell from the heavens with fire and finesse, leaning heavy into all thrusters and folding it's long wings upwards in a swift hoist. King Exodus watched the tabulation of data expand in size as they approached in an Upsilon-Class Command Shuttle from his seat behind the pilot, an outlawed weapons broker who had been conscripted from the holding cells of the Helvault. Servitude over confinement was a rich proposition, but his worth was in the value of his force sensitivity, and not the little he amounted to within the black market. A few other Sith accompanied him in the cockpit of the command shuttle, quiet identities wholly undisclosed with an aura of mystery surrounding them all, not a word said between them. Exodus drew the corners of his war-plate from his chest, breathing in deep as instinctive meditation fell over him, enabling an acute detection towards the warrior he had shared an affinity with. A few lightsabers hung on the sides of his belt, and a hooded cloak covered his form with the hood drawn up over his dark mane, simmering broodful eyes glowing from behind the shadowed creases of his cowl. "There they are." The pilot broke the silence in the cabin as the destination loomed in through the viewport, an excited tremor in his voice. Exodus could feel the lunacy radiating off the man, could sense it wasn't due to the maneuver he was about to perform, his confidence in his piloting skill was well enough. No, it was the possibility of blood, a euphoria for battle. "Hold here." Exodus commanded the other Sith, relieving them of their duty to interfere if it came to such. "Pilot, scan the surface for the others, and rally what you can." He continued with authority. “This won’t take long.” Exodus departed the rampart, and descended alone from the vessel.
  8. Exodus

    Kuat

    COURT OF DARKNESS "You speak true, Dathomiri." Exodus replied quicker than even he expected, but sensing the truth in her words was something he could not mistake. "A rarity," that another before him could string the words together almost as well as he, and draw a conclusion similarly to the one she had confessed, or so he thought. She left nothing to the imagination through the lens in which she saw things laid out, she coined roots of a paranoia that perhaps, even he was unaware of. Such clarity and transparency would be a cornerstone to the longevity of a Sith Hierarchy. Exodus weighed the expression of her thoughts, dragging his warblade from the earth and balancing it high above his head, as if words and weapons were one and the same. The windows to his soul held a desperate color of black death as he stared out into the open peacefully, the shapes of his irises becoming less circular than they were sharpened and lined with an oozing volcanic drip. The atmosphere about them had changed, a sweet and subtle change that many could never bookmark in their lifetime, never really knowing what it all meant. Many biological beings resorted to a sensation of fear, but it was simply the presence of the Dark Side. And as Exodus lowered his blade slowly, now walking towards Master Qaela, he placed the visceral edge of his weapon just past her fearless face, hovering the kiss of it beside the soft wall of her neck. Sharpness of such steel could fall gently from where it was raised, and carve down into the small woman from her neck and shoulders, sliding as if cutting through butter, opening her belly wide enough to watch her insides sloppily abandon ship. The point of the weapon instead revealed what it was that had crept down in the far distance. "I brought you something." It was beyond gargantuan, a smattered fusion of crystallized black and thrice-hardened steel with an underbelly of power synchronously pulsing with feverish light. The lining of this monstrosity flaunted organic shells, as if birthed from luxurious stonework. It was alive, and so immersed in the call of the Dark Side that only the presence of the Dark King could distract from such. And still, the beast whined and moaned; singing a somber cry filled with pain and destruction, an unholy choir that reached out to the heart-strings of those that could hear it. The ISD-II variant Kyber-Class Herløv, a mighty herald of Master Qaela had shuddered into the clouds of Kuat and buckled the atmosphere with it's raw power. "Did not let this little toy fall to our enemies, with you is where it belongs, enjoy. They return gloriously from the defense of Fondor, they have fulfilled what was asked of them, providing me with time. Get reacquainted, but do it quickly. We have a place that needs burning. I'll send for you." Exodus retracted the blade and sheathed it's brilliance. He nodded to the Dathomiri and stepped off from the compound, grabbing at her shoulder proudly with his free hand, subliminally hinting at the differences between his hand and his blade, and the choices she had made within the moments spent. She walked a thin rope, and would fall as foe or cross as comrade in the war to come. He had his answer on who she was, for now, and so he made way for his chariot.
  9. Exodus

    Kuat

    N I N E The Emperor found the evenness of her tone, her breath neither hurried nor holier than need be. Exact was how the woman held her demeanor, nothing more than what she needed to show, except the glaring lack of self-importance she held onto. It was coincidence then that the man she had chosen as an apprentice in her time before death, held behaviour that had shown the complete opposite in just body language alone. A Human typically overwrought with pride compared to a domesticated Dathomiri with as much humility as a Ziostian monk. The connection would have made him smile, but a simple question lingering in his mind removed humor altogether; which of the two would attempt the knife in his back? As she revealed herself through words, the powerful width of the imperious Warlord shifted forward. He stepped closer at a disarmingly slow march, the sound of dirt and stone grinding beneath his boots. Exodus closed his eyes as he moved forward and tasted the wind through his nostrils, brushing coolly across his tongue. He moved forward yet, closing the distance between the woman and himself, even catching the dead gaze of the two stationed Sentinels. "Nor should I?" Interesting was the way the sentence carried a tune of command, as if she would ever dare, but the Emperor couldn't resist hearing the words played aloud once more. He whispered them loud enough for her to hear, and questioned what it truly meant. Anzati held a particular liking towards the aristocratic taste of fine arts, an appetite for the flavor of many manner of things. The brutish organization of many language had been just one that always arrested his attention, perhaps this was simply a language barrier rooted in translations. Basic was nowhere near as expressive as the Anzati tongue, but she would not make the mistake again. Closer now, Exodus was but a half-meter span from where she stood. He stalked where her feet planted, moving with wolfish grace and curiosity. He studied her scent as it drew off of her ignorantly, filling the small space between them. The Emperor leaned forward, nearly brushing the bridge of his nose against her shoulders, lifting just before and against the cascade of her hair. Her body was flush with nutritional saturation, force-fed until her physical maturation improved on the natural decay of her first-form. He could taste the richness of her. Even her hair seemed wet still with the dampness of the underworld, a moisture carried forward between the physical and spiritual worlds. "Lady Darksong," Exodus moved passed her now, approaching the two gargoyle Sentinels that lurched in watchful formation. "...a great many have failed me, and in more ways than you could ever imagine. Yet and still, here we are, atop the food chain. Do you know why that is?" Rhetorically speaking, the King handwaved her from answering. "The useful pieces remain at my side, they adhere to my call." The seers on Arachnakorr had showed him the way, gave him the means to conquer the distant stars, unraveling the darkest mysteries of the Force. The Umbarans kept his burial chambers sacred and sanctified, worshipping him as a God that kept watch from the mountains, drowning him in tribute. Onderonians carried his name as a legend born from the superstition and mysticism in which his journey was carved. The creatures of the known galaxy understood the lure of the assassin, connecting the Sith in such a way that had never been done before. Exodus drew his Sith Sword, listening acutely to the scintillating kiss of metal dragging across metal. The balance of the blade resonated with him as he held the weapon in his hand, turning it over and studying the glyphs etched into its surface. It bled down the alchemical metal with ancient knowledge, cursive text that whispered in a tongue from Chaos itself. "I could care less whether you think you are deserving or not. You are a Master of my Court, and will conduct yourself as one at all times, in victory and in defeat. Hold your head high, for you have gone to lengths that others will not. You brought a measure of value to your name, while others wait for me to hold their hand. I grow weary of my own, I see the envy in their eyes. They are leeches, spoiled by the sanctuary I grant them. I will weed them out, and feed them to my wolves. And I will bring our enemies what they have been dying for. You say you will serve, as they all do. But will your sword become synonymous with mine? I have fetched you from your grave, how far will you follow your King, Lady Darksong? Exodus dragged the tip of his blade against the dirt, smiling.
  10. Exodus

    Kuat

    KEEPER OF KIN There was a surreal iridescence that tinted the full surface of his eyes with fever, shimmering unevenly as if the shallow beat of a bright star splashed against the scales of a sun-bathing dragon. There was something majestic in the way the darkness manifested inside of the Anzati Warlord, an elegance and savagery that danced across his flesh and made bed with his every mannerism. More and more of him offered itself, and more of his sanity swam eagerly with the current of the Dark Side. The longer he waded, the more his mind pruned with a bitter and biting coldness, for his heart had already been long forgotten. Not a single biorhythm echoed from within him, not one recognizable frequency of life hammered through his body. His temperament left neither indication nor trace of emotion to suggest he was nothing more than a grand sculpture, but the atmosphere around him sizzled with a humming of absolute power nonetheless. King Exodus watched indifferently as a master of his court rose from the sunless compound, bearing the housecoat of a commoner of Kuat. A gauntleted hand rose to brush the draping of his long corvus mane from his face, casually clearing his view of the ordinary woman, and then to signal the Sith Master to be at-ease as she bowed respectfully low. "Failure, death, abandonment—” The order in which she felt them, every word stretched just enough to resurrect the feeling. “What do you now feel?”
  11. Exodus

    Kuat

    The subterranean complex nestled into the dead marsh as a laid egg tucked between thinly cracked branches. It was an arid landscape stretched industriously far, with nothing but haggard machines and cutthroat fortifications, carving out an aura of brutalist architecture and military decorum. Activity had remained scarce, and only the dull operational hum of energy churned throughout the expanse. Meticulous surveillance went on for quite some time, revealing the exact moment when her lungs filled slowly with labored breath. Blood and power soaked her insides, tethering her empty shell of a body by eating at the life force of those within her proximity. Her appetite at first was miniscule, but after weeks it had become ravenous, while her consciousness knew nothing of it. Her comatose state persisted while her body fed vampirically. Reports pegged that some nights were worse than others while the Sith Master slept, draining those that tended to her care with a force so heavy that it buckled them at the knees. Details explained this as a sort of physically felt gloom, comparative only in sensation to when the dark council skulked nearby. Handmaidens held surveillance on her in day-and-night cycles, spending every moment washing her bare flesh, nourishing the body, and stabilizing erratic life-pulses that riddled her new form. Each of them were at risk for every minute spent, but a sacrifice of life at the command of their King was the holiest of honors. And now she had awakened. ///// The moment the dried hide of his buckskin boots fell from his lander and dug weight into the parched land, an overshadow the size of a mammoth swelled across the earth. Acrylic black-resin warplates only emphasized the daunting ambience of his arrival, light metal shifting crudely as he marched towards a clearing in front of the compound. An imperious high-collar cloak was fastened by gilded links to his dark breastplate, entirely blood-red as if soaked and dripping by the spill of his enemies. Brisk winds carried the rich fabric, snapping theatrically against the pressure, hailing the fearsome insignia of the Spider high and proud. “Bring her before me.” His voice snarled wolfishly, half heard out loud, and half inside of their minds. A pair of Imperial Sentinels were a scarcity in most worlds, and ones as mountainous as these were only referenced in words of old fable. Colossally they stood, twice the size of any known humanoid. Each Sentinel brandished large vibro-axes, and donned heavy battle armor under ceremonial, reddish-purple cloaks emblazoned with intricate gold patterns at the chest, back, and shoulders. They wore large thick-set helmets that concealed both the head and neck, leaving only their glowing red eyes visible. No parts of their bodies were left uncovered. At the command of their King, the two immediately shifted their statuesque demeanor and moved to secure their objective.
  12. SITH EMPIRE ROUND FIVE. Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon (MK-I), Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK-I) Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |4/25| 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 |0/10| RETREATED _________________________________________________________________________ Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaught Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious |0/10| 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 |0/6| 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 DESTROYED 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|
  13. Exodus

    Kuat

    Heavy black plastoid-armor covered the martial formations that surrounded the Dark Emperor. By the very inch, their assembly was kept tight and moved with supreme military discipline. Exodus marched forward, aware of the wide perimeter that they fashioned for his advancement through the passageways, with a keen eye that curiously watched over each one of them. He would never be comfortable in the hands of even his most faithful, for the life of an assassin disallowed him the comfort of idle ignorance. The hilt of his blade played against his palm and for but a moment, felt far more familiar than his own flesh, instead of the cold bite of alchemical steel. His blade was ready, the impressions of bloodlust itching at the recesses of his mind. The instant he decided to draw steel, aligning the broad blade with the stretch of his forearm, there would be nothing that could stop him from instantaneously severing at least two of their heads cleanly from the neckbone. The Anzati held no drum of the heart, but an invigorating adrenaline would carry through him nonetheless, igniting a rageful lunge for the third, tearing through their chest cavity with blunt force. Sheer momentum could only carry him forward now, surging through the formation as a wind-churned demon, fangs jerking hungrily for the fourth, biting into— “Commander?” One-Eyed Crow dared. Exodus faltered slightly in his last step, revealing an unusual lapse in balance, catching the attention of those sworn to screen the measures surrounding the Crown. The present came back to the King, just before his eyes drowned in blood that wasn’t truly there. These reveries were becoming more pervasive, a feverish famine that spent unexpected moments to try and convince him that there were enemies everywhere. Whispers of insurgency, dark demons that traded secrets just outside of earshot, the same shadows he visited when he opened his mind’s eye. Reality was quickly blurring, and something had to be done. “These warships are nauseating,” Exodus feigned a half-lie. The armada was filled with enormous impounds, destroyers aplenty, but suffocating for a creature of the wild. That was not the cause of his misstep, but the distaste for these vessels quickly grew. The sovereign formation cut through the Sith Resurgent more quickly now, gathering aboard their own dispatch, separating once-and-for-all from the bruised Destroyer. The Eye of Ida made descent towards the surface of Kuat. ______ [Undisclosed Location] Rows and rows of hypothermic tanks were scattered through this hatchery, submissive to the near-extreme temperatures that cooled the operating systems of this subterranean complex. The architectural design of this hatchery was wholly mimicked from the imaginative concepts that the Kaminoans were known for. The cloning chamber was interspersed with cylinders that housed developing reproductions of particular dignitaries. The genetic material from the host was originally extracted and amended to the desired parameters, creating artificial embryos to nurture within the compound. These embryos were grown inside glass incubation wombs housed in the cloning chambers. There, the chamber provided the developing embryos with the nutrients that were needed for healthy development in the form of a nutrient bath. The components of this Kuati cloning chamber included the actual cloning chamber, diagnostics, DNA sequencing, energy supply, life support, and the fetal clones housed inside the chamber. A subsect of Nightbrothers had recently been assigned to this location, brushing the frost from the face of a chamber coined to a Master of the Sith Empire. A special commission of metempsychosis had been ordered, an expensive and rather taxing modus operandi, that would steal the life force from a few, in order to exact the soul of one that had been lost. In a few moments, she would be awake once more.
  14. SITH EMPIRE ROUND FOUR. 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 |6/21| 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 |0/6| 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 DESTROYED 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| _________________________________________________________________________ "What we do selfishly, dies with us. What we do for our Empire remains forever." Unflinching composure settled deeply into the crew of The Goliath, watching closely as their allies chose death. The zealotry of the smaller tactical escort supports swarmed protectively across the bulk of the Herløv before imminent danger fell, angling their trajectory to intercept a most impressive barrage triggered by the opposing forces. Their defensive maneuvering spoke volumes to the efficiency required to pilot and crew any vessel within the Sith Empire, abandoning all thought regarding uncertainty in order to obstruct the ruination of their fellow comrades. The magnitude of impact from their broadside slant, incinerated their warships within a near blink-of-the-eye. The colliding differences of firepower lurched into the warships as if sinking abstractedly into the metal chassis of each vessel, illuminating with a terrific posture of brilliant light, before bursting completely at the seams. The thermic spray of super-heated metal erupted all at once, completely obliterating all life aboard each and every unit that composed the supports. Zloth'cal'duorii did not bother to swap expressions, the hard dip of his brows furrowed curiously at the sight of the larger enemy carrier instead, watching it disintegrate from the inside-out. How did it feel? Many lives were spent in exchange for the price of hoarded munitions. He could hear the screams of burning men and women, or of hopeless and frantic wailings of prayer before the swallow of space sucked their lungs dry. He could hear it all inside of his mind, imagining them more than really ever hearing anything inside the morbid command of the Flagship. What were they thinking, as their masters chauffeured them off to their cold and empty graves. Onderon, Corellia, Kuat, Fonder. He would never understand, this simple post removed him from the raw experience of pain, panic and loss. Zloth'cal'duorii reached for the high-collar uniformly braided around his neck, and loosened the material before it chaffed further at his blue skin. He was sweating more than he had realized, as his eyes darted across the holo-display, registering the hull integrities of the gathered armada. He was actually enjoying himself, but he could not admit that he felt this way; a tickle of excitement churning just beneath the assortment of imperial medals that scaled his white tunic.
  15. Exodus

    Kuat

    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.
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