Dark Sun Station

[Exodus]

A swollen transmission packet from the Marie hatched across the rest of the Axis Armada, the unraveling of information was a flare for the Sith Empire to move. Like wolves, poised with their unruly burning engines like the hungry maws of beasts with teeth bared, they stalked closely. The wide-spread intelligence that spider-webbed their consoles, stirred an uproar of enthusiasm across every able-bodied crew member, which in turn unleashed a bevy of outcries from the mouths of those readied to battle. Distinct coordinates were locked, and within a concise window of opportunity, the synchronization of the Axis came into play. Contingents hailing from the red world Korriban, marshaled onto the Scarab, ushering in familiarity from the tempered banners of Qaela Darksong and Commander Valinor. Sheog the Monstrous entrenched the hallowed steel-ways of the Scarab, his presence alone was a bloat to the conviction of the madmen that idolized his inhumanity, he had returned and the winds of his power seethed through vessel promiscuously. Telperion Ar-Pharazon began to flourish a madness of her own, eating from the same apple of lunacy as her Father once did. She held a promise to power that would soon unloose itself inside of her once ripe. The Lords and Ladies of the Sith carried with them an upholstery of power that began to swell as they contributed to the Empire; foot soldiers sworn to their insignia, entire worlds that whispered their names, all in accordance to the singularity of the Dark Lord of the Sith.

 

While the oriflamme of the Demon of the Sith had been tossed to the side, Neo Krell had risen in its stead with withdrawn purpose, arriving now to demonstrate his commitment to his brothers and sisters. A demonstration Lady Nyrys had no need of. The omen of Ailbasí Zirtani and her banners, was the font of unblemished pandemonium. To expect, was to fail, when opposing her. Unpredictability covered the footsteps of her journey, and rumors of her spread from cannibalism to the seduction of Mandalore. The Elder of Chaos, Lord Vashe Rhazien, would keep an eye on this one. Her elegance and efficiency was pivotal, and hailed as the paradigm for succession within the Sith Empire. It was this woman that approached the bridge, while legions of loyalists to the Empire swarmed one man that stood outstandingly different than the rest. King Exodus, the immortal incarnate to the ilk of shadows, first of his name. Deliverer of the Drinking Dark, a creature that rolled from the bedsheets tangled between Lady Death’s legs to stave the fall of the Sith. Obsidian-bone interlaced the black-polished metal plates that armored his body, the gloomy lighting bridge-wise reflecting a number of runes that were beautifully etched into them. A raised fist. A surge of necromantic power. Before him, the beginning of war began to take form, inky smoke coalescing off of the black iron of his fleet. Exodus gazed upon his domain with dark pride.

 

 

Staring, the ocean of space became his fixation.       

 

Not a second more was spared when the flare sounded, as the Armada of the Sith Empire hyper-jumped, expectedly landing inside the interdiction field appropriated by the enemy forces. The theater of war was sensational, the crawl of battle looked to have just entered the earliest of stages, as vessels realigned themselves to the outnumbered Black Sun Fleet and began to fire away. The magnitude of the Sith Armada emerged gargantuanly from the black of space, already drawn into formation. Hauntingly, the sheer presence of a Dreadnought, and the harrowing vice painted across the large ships of the Sith, was a menacing wonder to behold. Their jump was precise and afforded them an angular vantage point on the vessels that interrupted their trajectory with deployed gravity wells. The Sith Fleet landed in from above, and to the ‘four’ of a particular enemy, inclined at a 90° slant towards the MC90 Cruiser identified as the Adi-Wan. The Bleeding Kyber remained just beneath the Scarab, while the remainder of the fleet molded a defensive shell around the dreadnought. Like scores of locusts, star-fighters from every warship within the Sith Armada belted from their hangars and maneuvered close to central command. Simultaneously, a thunderstorm of weaponry rained down onto the crown of the Adi-Wan. Thousands and thousands of batteries erupted from the Scarab, accompanied by the entire complement of heavy ion cannons as well as the munitions from the rest of the fleet.  

 

From the shadows they struck, leveraging the intelligence from the Axis fleet, and positioning themselves to strike crudely into the ranks of those that would bring war to his sector.

 

 

"Kneel and submit to the Dark.. Or you will be knelt."

This whisper was an utterance under his breath, a promise filled with fire.

 

 

[Summary: The Sith Fleet answers the call for reinforcements. First placement was the rendezvous point, in which positional intelligence would be reported. The advanced systems of the SSD did well to acquire information from the Marie and framed their jump to coincide with the delivery of such critical data. Once the information was in place, the Sith Fleet jumped to battle position and unleashed onto their immediate target, understanding that negotiations had already been forfeit. The Scarab is positioned above the Adi-Wan (and at the four, if the MC90 is at their 12), but inclined at a 90° angle. The Kyber is underneath the Scarab, at a safe distance and in formation. While the remaining ships have formed a defensive coat across the length of the Scarab. All ships, and all weapons have fired and are firing a surprise onslaught onto the crown of the MC90 (top half), while each of the major vessels have begun to deploy their star-fighter screens.]  

 

SITH EMPIRE WAR CHEST.

AP 22.

 

Warspite

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Warrior-Class Gunship

Crew: 44 Crew, 36 Gunners

Fighters: 2 TIE Defender Squadrons

Armaments:

10 Turbolaser Cannons

8 Laser Cannons

4 Concussion Missile Tubes

Antimissile Octets

 

Sunder

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Warrior-Class Gunship

Crew: 44 Crew, 36 Gunners

Fighters: 2 TIE Defender Squadrons

Armaments:

10 Turbolaser Cannons

8 Laser Cannons

4 Concussion Missile Tubes

Antimissile Octets

 

Hyperion

Ship Class: Frigate

Type: Ardent-class fast frigate

Crew: 1400

Starfighter/Troop Complement:

1 Squadron TIE Predators

1 Squadron Scimitar Assault Bombers

2000 Assault troops

Armaments:

8 Turbolaser Batteries

6 Point Defense Batteries

4 Ion Cannons

2 Tractor Beams

AP: 2

 

Blackblade

Ship Class: Frigate

Type: Ardent-class fast frigate

Crew: 1400

Starfighter/Troop Complement:

1 Squadron TIE Predators

1 Squadron Scimitar Assault Bombers

2000 Assault troops

Armaments:

8 Turbolaser Batteries

6 Point Defense Batteries

4 Ion Cannons

2 Tractor Beams

AP: 2

 

The Bleeding Kyber

Ship Class: Star Destroyer

Type: ISD-II

Crew: 9700, 303 gunners

Fighters: 3 TIE/IT Interdictor Squadrons [Kain Variant], 3 K-Wings Squadrons [Kain Variant], 2 TIE Defender Squadrons.

Armaments:

50 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries (20 Forward, 15 Left, 15 Right)

50 Heavy Turbolaser Cannons (20 Forward, 10 Left, 10 Right, 10 Aft)

20 Ion Cannons (10 Forward, 5 Left, 5 Right)

8 Octuple barbette turbolaser

10 Tractor Beam Projectors (6 Forward, 2 Left, 2 Right)

 

The Black Scarab

Ship Class: Sith Star Dreadnaught

Type: Cerberus-class

Crew: 300,000 crew

Armaments: (Modified)

2000 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries

2000 Turbolaser Batteries

500 Heavy Ion Cannons

500 AG-2G Point Defense Laser Cannons

250 Heavy Concussion Missile Launchers

50 Siege Torpedo Launchers

40 Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors

Upgraded Shielding and Armour Package

Recessed Bridge and Shield Generators

Complement: 12,000 Assault Troops, 6 TIE Defender squadrons, 6 K-Wing Bombers, 6 TIE/vn Silencer Squadrons, 6 Scimitar Assault Bomber Squadrons

AP: 12

 

[TIE/IT INTERDICTOR ; KAIN VARIANT]

 

A similar design change was implemented in the now-constructing group of TIE/IT Interdictors, adding base model hyperdrives and aftermarket navi-computers. The result was a slightly extended fuselage on most of the craft, and perhaps a slight bit more sluggish maneuverability, but at least they would be able to join the rest of the fleet in hyperspace. It also didn't diminish their arsenal capabilities in the slightest, being loaded with six plasma torpedoes, six homing missiles, and the standard sixteen proton bombs each, which wasn't even taking into account the standard laser cannons they were designed with.

 

[K-WINGS ; KAIN VARIANT]

 

the K-Wings, diverse heavy hitters with 18 customizable hardpoints to attach missiles and the like. The standard layout Kain chose to have for their hardpoints was four plasma torpedoes, flechette bombs, six homing missiles, and four chain-linked slugthrowers with 1,200 armor-piercing rounds total between them, as well as two discord missiles. The buzz droids in these missiles were painted matte black and designed to be near invisible in spacial combat until it was too late to realize you were in a field full of them. They were equipped with a small IFF receiver, allowing them to easily distinguish between friendly ships and hostile ones. Otherwise, their function practically remained the same, use maglocks to latch onto enemy craft, particularly starfighters, and shred them to pieces.

[Exodus]

/2 /

 

T E N S I O N

 

 

 

 

The blackened warships were cocooned in a varnish of staggered smoke, a haunted fleet smeared with the acrylic polish of the most unnatural of predators. Hauls of weaponry sprouted an imagery of death and destruction, overwhelming firepower belching every practical ordnance into the crown of the Adi-Wan.  The distance from the target was at expected length, but the elevated and angular inlet of the Sith Fleet was menacing for any vessel that would undoubtedly fall within range. The blitzkrieg bombardment from the entirety of the Sith convoy would ordinarily tear the hinges off of whatever they deemed prey, the stream of focus-fire super-heating the very fabric of space. 

 

The surprise ambush was orchestrated near flawlessly by way of the communication relays that were left unhampered, and a stoical patience tempered by the strategy of the Spider. The known Jedi ship, a Mon-Cal of all the ships in their repertoire, was weakest from the crest of their design. Surprisingly however, the Mon-Cal remained unblemished, and crawling from those same coordinates was now a shore of star-fighters. The outbreak of firepower from the Black Scarab and the neighboring vessels that shouldered the beast, did little to sway their advancement, but would still rain through them nonetheless. The approach of the Jedi squadrons timed themselves for the immediacy of the hungering Sith squadrons. Widespread formations of TIE/D Defenders howled from their hangers, beginning with those that hailed boastfully from the flagship, ready for a dogfight. The deadlier and more experienced TIE/vn Silencers dispersed like a falling of a flower bloom, into the loose formation of their allied star-fighters. TIE Predators carefully shadowed in from behind the Defenders, the eyes of the formation as they appeared, watching closely for an opening.  

 

“Well will you look at these bad boys!” OM-72-8 cackled hilariously across the communications relay of the infamous OMEGA Squadron, easily amused by the sound of his own voice. Scout was first and foremost in breaking the fermented silence, grinning from ear to ear behind the ominous matte black of his helmet. “These coward fu-” Cursing them in chain, he riled with maniacal laughter and over-confidently roughed his controls, rolling the excellent maneuverability of his Tie/vn Silencer to the forefront of the formation. What followed was an innumerable amount of identical vessels that pulled forward and projected their natural shielding. Six TIE/vn silencer squadrons to be exact, included in such was OMEGA, in conjunction with at least ten squadrons of TIE/D defenders that burped into, and formed an obstructive blockade for the impromptu offensive against them. The swarm was frighteningly swift and plowed through the loose shrapnel, fractures of metal digressing entirely, but still finding damage on a small number TIE/D Defenders that trailed. For a few of the newer pilots, the surprise jeopardized their movement and forced unwieldy collisions. Overall, their transitioning was masterful, a keen testament to the imperialistic discipline stemming from their veterans. The technology of a projected energy shield on the TIE/vn Silencers enabled a soft push towards the opening bombardment, but the make-shift barricade would face perilous exposure if another shelling followed. Strangely, none came, and the enemy fighter squadrons escaped with a curious hit-and-run. 

 

In earnestness, the Sith-Imperial fighters were prepared and had been launched the moment the Sith Fleet pulled from hyperspace, the flight crews and pilots impatiently waiting for hours for the moment that their enemy would be revealed. Unfortunately, the apex of their arrival had been anticlimactic. OM-72-4, or call sign Huntress, sighed deeply as she rolled her eyes into another star system. “Already? They’re running already?!” The pitch in her voice hit a little higher whenever a smidgen of frustration set into her fuzzy eyebrows. All that meant was that call sign Scout, was laughing louder and more obnoxiously for his crew to hear or to mute. “..Wait, wait. Do you feel that? It’s happening again..” Laughter turned to curiosity, and curiosity turned to silence.

 

There was an unmatched wealth of experience in the connectivity of a battle meditation shared between the armies of the Sith that suddenly spiked the totality of their minds. The Dark King could only smile at the unraveling of the events before him, as he passively coupled the power and minds of those that drank from the dark side by the mere settling of his eyes, the many thousands chain-linked to his command. The synaptic fastenings were raw, and eerily intoxicating. The men, the women, and the creatures of the Sith Empire would forfeit any measure of inertia, and succumb to a brilliant and fervent focus. Their minds would become riddled with a euphoric sense of duty that over-matched the imperialistic doctrine that the masses had acceded to, fixating themselves now to the indomitable will of King Exodus and the Dark Side. Their enemies were most likely of the predictable sense, abstaining from the flush of emotion they felt whenever the presence of the Sith drew near, a tantalizing dread that was combined with an attempt to ignore the inevitable shadow that it cast. This was no welcoming, this was far from a familiarity that any Jedi here could understand. This was the drowning of the Light, a submerging of a cowering breed. To feel the itch of evil on their heels, was the understanding that the reaper could now see them, and that Death was here for them all.

 

The Emperor-King nested on a massive bridge, multiple walkways that spider-webbed with varying engineered constructs and the specialists to operate them. The oeuvre of the Anzati Arachnid, every chamber regally set with imperial decorum but equally met with a heavy saturation of Sith grandeur. An spider-legged iron-anchored command throne that opened up to the beautiful vista of battle, sat high above the footbridges to oversee the operations below. Exodus with eyes completely white, perched towards the mammoth view-port, feeling more than his eyes could see within these walls, fanning the flames of an imposing hive-minded concentration. Lady Nyrys kept an endearing proximity for a deal of time, before the hunt had called her name to purpose. 

 

“The Dark Lord is the will, and we are the blade.” 

 

She spoke the words before departure, and the words echoed in the minds of the Imperial Watch, whom made it their business to secure the position of their Emperor. Then, the words chanted across the battle meditation slowly, dripping into the brain-pan of all those that savored the mental convergence. Heavy attack formations now made up the advance guard of the Sith Fleet, constituted by the nine TIE/D Defenders squadrons, six TIE/vn Silencers squadrons, two Predator squadrons, four Scimitar Assault Bomber squadrons, and the brooding tip of the Bleeding Kyber. On their flanks were lighter formations, Blackblade and Warspite on the left flank, Hyperion and Sunder on the right flank. The rest of the fighter squadrons interchanged their positions at the rear.

 

The heavy attack lines of each heavy formation moved forward to spearhead the assault, still utilizing the open space from above, sub-light engines burning brightly at full power as the serrated ships sliced into the black of space, still unleashing the heaviest barrages towards the escaping Adi-Wan. The direction of the Sith Fleet aimed to sweep to the left of the Station, while maintaining their ninety-degree angle above the Jedi Fleet below. Trajectory would see them draw nearer to their allies, while their ‘northern’ latitude kept their free-fire safe from allies. Men and women of sure-fire command began boarding operations, assembling task forces to pursue the captured, and those that knew no better than to flee. The influx and influence of the Dark Lord was a windfall of a favor, more incredible of a skin than that of the darkest of nexuses to wear. In this web, a personal prey would soon make itself available for the King to feast on. Ventral and dorsal heavy turbo-lasers repeated their savagery with continued fire into the vacuum of space while cannons and launchers belched kaleidoscopic munitions at their enemies in the course of their chase. The Black Scarab loomed as the cornerstone of it all, blanketing the battlefield with vehemence. 

 

The relatively small crew of the Warspite faced a measure of panic as an imposing ISD-II maneuvered themselves into the fray and began firing a meatier barrage of turbo-lasers. The gunship was a horror when displaying its powerful arsenal, but the strength of the Misericordia and what it could carry, was no small thing. The distance between them and their adversaries was still considerable, but a few heavy-set turbolasers connected and smashed the integrity of the entire structure. The deflector shields heavily waned, fluttering before the acceleration of the corvette kicked into gear. The Warspite peeled from the flank of the Scarab and quickly employed evasive procedures, small and quick enough to ruse the firing from the brawny ISD-II from this range. The spearheaded Sith Fleet continued forward, and from above, on the tail of the Adi-Wan, aligning from the same angle they had come in on and advancing on it's starboard. This molded an interesting trajectory for the three forces in question; the Misericordia flanked the Adi-Wan, moving towards it's port, and the entire Sith Offensive angled downward, towards the starboard of the Adi-Wan and sweeping towards the left of the Dark Sun Station. Still, with the retreat of the Adi-Wan, there remained no vessels between them and the Sith amalgamation.  

 

 

 

*

Silencers and Defenders accept the initial assault with their projected/natural shielding.

Small scores of star-fighters are slightly damaged by the spread

Fleet continues to bear down onto the Adi-Wan, firing their full capacities

Formations fill out, while Warspite takes fire from the Misericordia, and separates slightly from formation

to take evasive measure. Star-fighters are deployed and spread into formations, at the ready.

The harassing  hunt continues

 

 

 

[Exodus]

3.

 

The haunt of the powerful Sith Armada shored the distance to their scurrying prey, slowing as they closed in on them from above. Five formidable vessels formed an electrifying wreath around the gargantuan Scarab, each of them resetting their attack positions whenever they fell into the crosshairs of an enemy craft. The Bleeding Kyber would be the first to endure the ire of the insurrectionist scum, attempting to run emergency maneuvering while being completely engrossed by a furious shelling from the Misericordia, the face of a new threat. The shields took an inflated pounding, while the broadside of the Kyber lit up in vivid color. The peculiar ISD-II ate the rainshower of batteries, and the skin of the vessel seemed to burn with a hue of anguish. All power was partitioned between mobility and shielding, realigning the distressed Destroyer to that of the stationary Misericordia. The decline in shielding was undoubtedly accelerated by the desperation of the enemy, and so the crew doubled over their efforts before they were torn to shreds. There was an eerie calm to the men and women aboard the twisted Kyber however, even as the bombardment began to puncture the chassis of the vessel and wipe scores of exterior weapon placements clean from the surface. Smaller sections of the Kyber destabilized and were immediately voided of life, but the ship aligned regardless of the surge. It was not particularly a calm that befell the enormous crew of the Kyber, but a tempered insanity in which was rooted from the Hutt Master it now belonged to. The meat of the power behind the vessel loaned itself to the failing defensive systems, but now the engines roared to life, preparing to jump right through the new challenger. 

 

As the Bleeding Kyber fell from formation, realigning with the gallant Misericordia, the rest of the assault fleet moved forward. While escape crafts poured from the Adi-Wan, the offensive yielded their acceleration and fanned out like a daunting black lotus. The full force of each and every starfighter dedicated to this operation, accompanied by the swift might of both frigates and both gunships, engaged the dying Adi-Wan as well as all rescue or fighter craft in the area.

 

 

- Kyber is overwhelmed, realigning to jump through target, or melt while trying to keep alive.

- All others engage their defeated target. Will leave once this thing is over.

[Exodus]

/ /

 

A R M I S T I C E

 

 

 

"Like rodents, they scatter.." Strands of hair colored deeply in a stain of rosewood red retreated down the fullness of his shoulders and puddled loosely into his armored lap, unfailingly illustrating the bleeding of innocent lives that the Galactic Alliance enforced. Exodus brushed aside the locks that itched his inexpressive features, sparing no form of compassion for the lives lost by the second. “These people, all of these people can see the wickedness of the Jedi and the Galactic Alliance. Their acts of hostilities to preserve one life over the lives of hundreds of thousands, the willingness to sacrifice the greater many over the selfishness of one. They are no longer bound by honor, they have become what they are mortally sworn to fight against.” An advisor to the Dark Lord spoke freely, with a voice that sounded like it had been chiseled from stone. “You have foreseen this, my Lord. And now they all see it too.”  

 

The atmosphere above Iziz City had warmed since the days of their departure, a restorative downpour of rainfall and the rumble of storms in the distance. Nevertheless, the streets of the Sith-Imperial capital city was crowded beyond measure with an attraction that summoned all, governed tightly by the forces of an unprecedented Imperial militia. Black and crimson banners displaying the conjoined crests of the Axis Fleet gestured restlessly from the highest of towers, heaving powerfully in the winds that swept them. Tremendous projectors lined every corner within reach of the Imperial Palace, displaying feeds from the Battle at Dark Sun Station, an even that had drawn each and every citizen of Onderon from miles to watch.

 

 

“Voss, I am just a stranger, in an even stranger land. Their faces are all unfamiliar, and their names and customs are alien to me. In Iziz, many gather in the streets and cheer for a power that they do not understand, for a strength that promises protection, at the cost of their freedoms. I am King of Onderon, the Dark Lord of the Sith and the Great Devourer of the Light. Many whisper that I am a true Emperor of Darkness, yet a Liberator of the People.” Exodus laughed softly, quietly flashing the winter-white of his sharp teeth, remembering vividly the sentient hunts that he and his Anzati kin inherently enjoyed. “I am no one, Voss. Remember that when I break the frail nature of this pathetic galaxy.”

Back on the metropolitan streets of Iziz, and before the houses of Sith worship, the impressive might of an entire host of Sith-Imperial forces paid careful attention. An unbounded measure of the highly-praised Imperial Legion in their elegant war-trappings, arranged themselves in standard formations while they cheered for their allies in victory. Whether the feeds were delayed, or streamed with constant intervals of disruption, the masses roared with an exuberance that resembled that of the last time Onderon space was invaded, and victory followed. Troopers of honored rank stalked among the rows, accompanied by the sinister decadence of the sparing Sith that loomed nearby. Each and every one of them had cause to rejoice, for this would mark the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one.

 

The composite brawn of the Sith Fleet laid into the remnants of the Adi-Wan and cleaved a mercurial level of destruction onto the vessel. An inorganic detonation of the capital ship consumed the panoramic distance that still divided the Axis Fleet from their reunification.  Ravings of star-fighters hemmed the borders of the destruction, eating away at survivors without mercy and carving a territorial perimeter in which to secure the position of the Blood Prince with.  The remaining warships within the Sith Fleet would mark anything within range, and shred them to pieces if it threatened the collateral of their allied assets. The Kyber itself endured the worst of the first detachment, but excellently positioned itself to trigger another round of devastation if the opposition did not heed their very visible warning. Predictability would reward none on the battlefield, and a statement here and now would enlighten the rest of the galaxy to the horrors of the Galactic Alliance, mirroring that of the Crusaders. The Sith Empire had averted disaster once more, and the people could once again see it for themselves.

 

 

(Terms were agreed upon, let's have fun narrating the rest of this.)

 

 

 

 

[Exodus]

THE SUM OF MY ENEMIES

 

 

Serpentine were the eyes of the unruly King of the Dark. Searching, sweeping the battlefield that opened up from all around his naval forces, seeing much more than what the sense of vision alone could offer. What he saw was vastly unremarkable. He studied the commanders that barked their orders to fruition, surveying how the enemies behaved themselves in response, and how the impression of thousands of lives burning out in a single moment truly felt once more. There was a fury hidden inside of his features as such things crossed his mind, one that burned through his eyes in the color of bloodstone as he remained witness to the quaint conviction of his enemies. These were their ideals they chose to die behind, herding an alarming levy of sheep to perish for a single uninteresting woman. “Disappointing how the competence of my enemies has fallen so drastically low. Truly, times have changed.”

 

The Emperor stood tall and moved to the center platform, his podium unnecessarily raised despite his already imposing stature. Upon his body he wore an umbrageous black cloak, hauntingly woven with a material that seemed polished with the shadows that followed his steps. The mantled robe was seamed brilliantly with an inner skin of aureated silk, swallowing the reflections of the flames that danced from the open braziers. Lord Exodus moved with the distinction of a tempered warrior-king, hardened and beaten by the savage realities of his homeworlds, yet never missing the grace of a single step in his stride. A breastplate, and shells of blackened Sith Metal sheathed particular areas of his torso, decisively fastened to his unruly vestment. From where he stood, he watched the workforce from beneath. On the vast holoprojectors, he too watched the many brave Onderonians who had once put their lives at great risk to ensure that their Empire would not be brought down by those who sought its destruction. He watched them all in contemplation, the masses gathered back home to see what would come of this battle. They waited on his word as if the sound of them were prophetic in nature, for his voice was rarely heard, but his brooding presence was always felt.  

"Today, we are gathered here as witnesses.." The tranquilizing voice of the Spider carried across an incredible expanse, magnified throughout Iziz through amplifiers built into the streets, and echoing within the very comms of the entire Sith-Imperial fleet.  “To recognize the reckless abandon of the Jedi and their Galactic Alliance first-hand. They have sung the song of peace, hoping that their poisonous words ease us soundly to a sleep. Yet we find them in masses, razing the fields of Carida, wrangling unprovoked war to our homes on Onderon and now here, with incredible odds against our allies to save the skin of a single woman. Commendable I would say, if only the same conviction was shared when millions of lives were readily butchered on Coruscant and many more on Chandrila for good measure. They were nowhere to be found, while those gnawing Crusaders ate their innocents on the footsteps of their very own homes.” A brief pause, to allow the last parallels of his masterfully intoxicating voice to dissolve from the echoing walls. "I implore you to understand the vast military achievements of the men and women here, and around you, who have willingly laid down their lives to bring security and stability to our territories. For without them, this Empire would be nothing. It was they who contested the desecration at the scholarly temples of Carida, protected our sovereignty in Iziz City from the same war criminal that demolished Coruscant, and crushed those that would invade our homes above Onderonian space, bringing the Galactic Alliance and known Jedi to their knees. Without our brothers and sisters, those that stand readily at our side, this Empire does not exist."
 

"We now know the true nature of our enemies, and yet we are the ones that possess the strength to keep them at bay, deservedly proven to rule the galaxy. It is the Empire, not the dominion of any failed Galactic Alliance, that brought back the rule of law to civilization.  When you all came to the edge of all of the light you've ever known, and decided to step off into the darkness of the unknown with me; you believed that one of two things would happen. You would have something solid to stand on, or you would be urgently taught how to fly. For that is what it means to be Imperial, that is what it means to be Sith, to have the strength to do what must be done even if it exacts a heavy toll upon us. Because we are a strong people, we will bear this burden as we have all others, and eradicate those that stand in our way."
 

The Sith Emperor raised his fist high, and was imitated by the hundreds of thousands in attendance from the fleet and Iziz City. A collective roar echoed throughout the masses, armies and audience altogether, mimicking a victorious battle cry that drowned out the rumblings of war. Adrenaline shock-waved through the swarm intelligence of the Sith armies, and excitement through triumph riveted the connectivity of home-world and the shared fleets. Exodus spoke with passion, but the darkness that seethed in his bones disallowed him the thrill of emotion. The Anzati inside of him flared with predatory instinct, appraising the immediacy of any threat within the distractions of celebration. The revelry increased regardless, and the power of the Sith-Imperial Fleets roared with brilliance. Exodus stepped from the podium, rounding a pass of stairs that would exit him from the grand stage. An escort of highly-decorated Heavy Sith Troopers shadows his steps in a protective formation, as leery as hounds in the wake of the Dark King. Grand doors opened quickly, decompressing loudly, and revealing a blood-drenched prodigy of the Sith.

 

 

"..Lady Nyrys," Exodus cracked a sinister smile.
 

[Exodus]

The men-at-arms had taken a disciplined step forward when the unkempt Lady had entered the kill circle of the Spider. Their swift shuffling of feet synchronized with the very moment that Lady Nyrys chose to bow her head with respect, ending prematurely when King Exodus opened his left palm to signal their halt. She was victoriously bathed in blood and still under the spell of a dangerous elation that ran through her body, an overwhelming wash of adrenaline that these Wardens would have the utmost trouble with. The gory life force that was wretched from her victim, soaking the entirety of her physical features, stirred a carnivorous genealogy that rested well within the frigid confines of the Anzati King. The allure of an unsweetened execution was a prevalent pleasure within his species.  

 

".. An excellent subject. Rise Nyrys, walk with me." 

 

The data-core shifted as if moving of it’s own free will, and submitted itself by way of the force, into the majestic reach of that imperious obsidian cloak. Darth Truilliadh would be evaluated, and weighed for his importance in the future of the Empire. A small cadence from his wrist-communication seized his attention before he continued, a single footnote transmitted across the electronic interface. The correspondence revealed no reaction from the relaxed contours of his face, the King of all Sith sighing wearily as a squadron of Sith fighters scoured across a view-screen of the Scarab; raining wildfire into enemy star-fighters. Exodus looked to a particular commander hidden among the escort contingent, "Secure our position and eliminate any strays. Our allies are nearly in the clear." Having no other recourse but to heed his instruction, the commander affirmed compliance and saluted his Emperor before disappearing to the recesses of the bridge; undoubtedly to ensure that the command would be thoroughly transmitted.

“You say the nature of monsters. Do you imply that is what you, or even I am described as for the things we’ve done or must do? Tell me more about this distance you feel, and I will share with you my vision of morality.” King Exodus walked alongside one of his brightest pupils, his head held imperially high, curious to the ruminations of a creature with an appetite that rivaled some of the most profound of his kind. 

[Exodus]

And for a moment, he anchored himself. It was not for lack of understanding that she questioned the morality of things, but rather, a desire to express her freedom from such confines. And boy did she express it. Exodus led the pace as the words and emotions escaped her, orations that weaved a brilliant visualization of who she was and who she wished to be in this worn and wearied universe. Unavoidable was the consistent thrum of armored boots that echoed into steel from all around them, swarming troopers like the wolves that Nyrys spoke of, was menacing for the workforce of the Scarab that watched from afar. “You know, typical girl stuff.” Exodus could not readily discern her humor, but the anchor loosened as the rest of the guard held their breath, and Exodus sneered distractedly. He let out an amorous laugh, that was, for once, not mired in underlying tones of murder or devious machinations. He genuinely laughed. Such behavior from an Anzati Warlord, a King of the most Heinous, was not a common thing to be seen. Yet, the promising Sith before him unveiled a characteristic unseen from the masses he has ruled over, unashamed transparency. The toothy grin of the Sith Reaper widened as her truest ambitions, or at least the ones that she chose to reveal, had come to surface. 

 

"That is a high mountain that you're asking to climb, Lady Nyrys—" 

 

 

One of the twelve Sith Troopers stepped forward curiously on queue, and as if the timing could not be more precise, he placed a spherical transmitter between his King and the company he kept. An image immediately bloomed from the disposed object, and a familiar individual came to life. The ordained Blood Prince had reached out at last. The warmth drained from the face of the Dark King, and he listened intently to the appeal of the Black Sun Syndicate. The unsatisfactory management of their hostage situation, the risk that they took on and were ill-prepared for.  The blanketed loss of their command structure, and operational integrity, and now the consolidation of their assets and clearance into the dominant Sith Empire. These were tall orders that the Spider knew in his mind would come, and had planned for long before the birth of this event. However, Lady Nyrys was present at a time that could not be believed as coincidental. Exodus did not break his study of the digitized accomplice, nor did he answer immediately.

 

"I was beginning to think you had lost your voice, Prince." Forgiveness was of no value to the Spider, and sharing such compassion would never fall from his mouth. Gratitude held more weight here, for the mercy of the Sith Empire could be swift or forever absent henceforth. Be that as it may, these were small vanities in this war. The King of the Sith knew that his Empire had far more acquisitions behind the curtains, by being the hand of grace in this foolish campaign. "I assume the two of you are well acquainted." Exodus flashed a knowing look towards the two, "..What would be your judgment?" 

 

 

Nyrys would feel the eyes of Exodus on her, anticipating the revelry of her mind.

 

 

 

[Exodus]

".. Then it is settled."

Her words bit deep into a perpendicular truth, a soldier at a loss for purpose and worth, a man unwound and broken before his people. The tension between the two individuals was personal, but these words were founded on a bit more than distaste, these were validations that the two of them had no choice but to swallow. The broken soldier now sang for absolution, whistling carelessly into the dark; He is but the remnant of a man, laurels of a prince, both maimed and half-blind, disturbingly unsure of what it was he truly asked for.

"You, and those that follow behind, will submit to the full disposition of the Imperial Intelligence department before transition of power is reallocated within our ranks and crucial asset loss is indemnified. The toll will be heavy, but your lives will not be entirely forfeit. You will learn.. to exact your worth, Lieutenant." And perhaps, one day, screwing.

The holotransmitter swept itself from the floor and cut communication. The assigned trooper reached out dutifully, and snatched the device from suspended air, before fastening it to his armored thigh. He bowed, curiously this time, to both Lady Nyrys and naturally the Dark Lord he served, and then reentered his quiet formation. Exodus reached up and shuffled the crimson silk from his face, long lengths of hair that ceremoniously held his facial mystique from plain-view. He sheepishly shelved the locks behind his ear and gazed with the most powerful sheen of color his eyes had ever reflected, judging Nyrys as she stood before him.

"You may yet seat the throne that sat the old Wolf, you may even reshape it to be more than it ever was. Follow me first to our next destination righteous Devil, the ill-intentioned await."
 

The realignment of the coalition had already begun, and the joint fleets centered their proximity. Star-fighters from the Sith Empire returned to their launch bays, while select squadrons continued reconnaissance for any friend or foe left to the black of space. The command ship reoriented itself, and the direction of the remaining assets to their nearest point of resupply, and would begin their jump when the mark was set.