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Geonosis


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Geonosis

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Outer Rim Territories

Sector: Arkanis

System: Geonosis

Orbital Position: 2

Moons: 4 major and 11 minor moons

Grid Coordinates: R-4

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: Rocks, deserts, mountains, mesas, barren

Points of Interest: Badlands, Ebon Sea, Golbah's Pit, E'Y-Akh Desert, Spires, Im'g'twe Hills, N'ge'u Valley, N'rakti Lava Fields, Geonosian caves

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Geonosians

Immigrated Species: Acklay, Nexu, Reek, Massiff

Primary Language(s): Geonosian

Faction Affiliation: None

 

Defense Rating: Level 2 - Sparse Defense

 

JediRP Canon History:

 

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  • 2 years later...

It only took a moment. For years, there had been nothing in the skies of Geonosis save the occasional transport and trading vessel. The planet's massive factories had been mostly quiet for nearly a decade, remnants of when the first Republic had finally died. With a flash of light, however, over a hundred warships jumped in system. Everything from the smallest corvette to the largest Star Destroyer in Mordecai's armada had arrived nearly simultaneously, darkening the planet's skies with their might. Mordecai himself was present on the bridge of the Krayt's Fury, watching the world below with great interest. With him he brought enough troops to subjugate a dozen worlds if needed, and using Geonosis as a beachhead into the rest of the Outer Rim, he planned to do exactly that.

 

Almost a year of planning, training, scavenging and warfare had led to this. His campaign. He could feel his adrenaline pumping, the excitement gnawing at his insides. He broadcast an open signal to those below.

 

"Denizens of Geonosis. I am Darth Mavanger, and I come with an offer. I come to restore your factories, and to establish my base of operations upon your planet. This will happen, for the might of the Sith Empire backs me. You may join me as conquerors, to see your people prosper under my rule and my protection, or as the conquered, your people beaten and subjugated. Converse with your leadership. Assemble your armies. But know that I am not playing a game- if you will not join me I will wipe your cities from this planet and finish what Lord Vader started so many years ago."

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The two matriarchs looked at each other, their large eyes showing a mix of horror and resignation. What fleet could they defend themselves with? They had three rusty Lucrehulk-class Battleships in orbit, but the cores were parked in the drydocks, miles away from their destinations. 

 

It was over for both of them, but they would not give up their power so easily. 

 

“Begin the destruct sequences of the factories. They will have nothing.” 

NPCs for boardwides and small stories on request

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It only took a few minutes before an officer called out.

"Sir, there's a signal bouncing around down there. It's activating their factories."

 

"Have they complied?"

"Unsure, the power at each is localized. Perhaps the generators? But the power signatures are weaker than we usually see."

 

"Bombs?" another officer asked.

 

Mordecai realized what they were doing. "Ready my shuttle immediately- trace the origin of that signal and relay it to my pilot. I want three task forces watching those Lucrehulks- If they come alive, wipe them out. Get the troops ready for an invasion. The Geonosians may need to be subjugated after all."

He hurried off the bridge as his troops scrambled to be invasion-ready. He boarded his craft, the ship's klaxon's blaring through the halls and hangars. It had been months since they'd seen combat at Kuat, but he was no less ready for the battle ahead. He was relieved to see that his personal guard were already aboard, checking gear and loading their weapons. He nodded at them, and looked at the pilot of the transport.

 

"Do you have the signal origin yet?"

"We do, my lord. Plotting course now- it will only be a few minutes."

With a shudder and a whir the transport came alive, the hydraulic hiss of the exit ramp barely audible until it sealed the shuttle. He felt the shuttle lift off the ground, and he stood defiantly before the ramp. He already knew what would happen. There were only two outcomes to this day- Either the Geonosians destroyed the factories, and their race died with them, or they stopped the sequence, and their race lived on another day. The journey to the source was fast, and silent. When they landed and the shuttle doors opened, he was blasted by heat as his sabers ignited. There were two Geonosian drones standing guard at the entryway before him, and he charged forward. He was on them before they could fire, his sabers a blur as he severed their heads. Thus would be the fate of all who defied his presence. 

 

He walked forward with an even pace as his elite rushed forward, blaster fire painting the walls red with its glow as they expertly disposed of any bugs that tried to stand against them. There was some return fire, the Geonosians' sonic weapons claiming the lives of a pair of his troopers who were caught by an ambush in the labyrinthine cave system they now found themselves in. He let the Force lead him, feeling his way forward over the piles of dead Geonosians as they reached a large pair of doors. Half a dozen guards armed with what seemed to be ceremonial armor and electrostaffs rushed forward, and he moved to meet them. The clash was swift and brutal- against the squad of troopers he had brought they would have fared better, but against Mordecai, a trained Sith Lord armed with twin swords of plasma, it was a hopeless gesture of resistance.

 

"Keep the area secure. I will handle this." he said.

 

He could feel a pair of presences beyond the doors. and as he pushed the doors with the Force, they opened, and he entered.

 

He didn't hesitate. As soon as he entered, he killed the closer of the Geonosian matriarchs, her body crumpling to the ground as vapor drifted upwards from the corpse, the smell of burnt insect wafting into the air.

 

"Perhaps there was a miscommunication, good Queen. When I said that I came with an offer, you clearly thought I was jesting. Now, let me be more clear, and do not misunderstand my intentions- I mean to take this world and its factories. If you do not disable whatever self destructive sequence you have begun I will kill you, and then wage the bloodiest war against your people that your legends could only compare to, before rebuilding the factories on the corpses of your species. Now, perhaps you would like to reconsider your decision."

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Miscommunications. Misplanning. There was much to regret, and in the space of an hour every dream of the Geonosian people came crashing to the red dust of their planet. Never would they rise to influence the systems around them. Not until this emperor was long dead and gone. 

 

But for now they would obey. They had lived in subservience for ten lifecycles and three. What was another ten? Perhaps her daughters would find their freedom. 

 

She hung her head.

 

'We will reconsider." 

NPCs for boardwides and small stories on request

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Mordecai nodded. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this, and while he was glad the Geonosians would kneels, he would not rub salt into their wounds today.

 

"Then I have no choice but to assume that the decision to resist was hers alone." Mordecai said, gesturing towards the corpse of the other Matriarch. "In time, I hope we can move past this bloody business and your people can prosper under my banner. Once your people are finished grieving, start the factories up. They know them best- I will ensure a steady stream of trade and supplies arrive to keep this planet prosperous. I am confident that you will soon understand that while we are here as conquerors, such a business does not always have to have unpleasant ends."

 

With that, he turned and exited, motioning for his troops to follow him.

 

"Stay alert, but hold your fire unless fired upon. Hopefully, the Geonosian matriarch spoke the truth when she said she'd reconsider her actions."

 

One of the troops glancced at him with uncertainty. "And if she didn't?"

 

Mordecai shook his head. "Then we'll wipe them out."

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As The Ahriman arrived, Darth Akheron observed the sight that befell him. Geonosis. He was familiar with it's history...it was here that the Clones Wars truly began all those decades ago and the Jedi fought and several years after The Empire nearly wiped out the native species. A history of conflict. 

 

And yet again had the planet bore witness to war. Noting the Sith armada before him, Akheron was impressed at both it and Darth Mavanger for apparently taking control with relative ease, so far as he could tell. No sign of hostiles seemed evident so far. Sending a holographic message to what appeared to be the flagship, he let Darth Mavanger know of his arrival and to expect company shortly.

 

" Greetings Captain, this is Darth Akheron. I believe Darth Mavanger is expecting my arrival. Congratulations on your recent victory, if you would allow me to the surface and direct me to where I might Lord Mavanger, I would be most appreciative. If any assistance is needed, I would likewise also be happy to lend it."

 

In the Force, Karys stretched out his senses...allowing himself to be felt by any Force-User on the surface. His Wrath hopefully acting as perhaps another way to inform Darth Mavanger that he had arrived. 

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas

akheron.jpg

 

"The universe started in darkness at a time when light didn't exist, and that is how it will end. Chaos and suffering is what brings us together. In chaos a man or woman will show who he or she really is and in suffering they will speak the truth. We are darkness incarnate, we are the evil. This cannot be denied, even by me. But without us there is no redemption, passion or order." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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Kahla watched silently as she watched Darth Mavanger's shuttle depart for Geonosis. There were hushed reports of a potential scorched earth scheme from the planet's inhabitants. This was hardly a fight though, if Mordecai was going in person then there was no need for her to interfere.

 

In the months leading up to their arrival, Kahla had spent a lot of her time focusing on her training, teaching herself to use the weapons gifted to her. It was difficult at first, forcing herself the elegance of not one, but two sabers. Often in her frustration she'd leave one at her side and continue using only a single blade. Although at first she thought it a bad habit she needed to curb, she started to lean into it. It would take her more time than she had already to perfect her new found fighting style, but the taste deception of switching sabers and stances mid combat was an alluring flavor. Kahla had forced herself to become ambidextrous in her off time, using her off hand for day to day activities. Everything from writing, to eating and drinking. Her excitement grew each day, just waiting until the day she can unveil her tricks.

 

Alongside her promotion to Darth, she had anointed her squad with the title of Elite. Befitting their new title, she had commissioned the armor of royal Sith guards, a light crimson red armor, with large pauldrons adorn their left shoulder, their equipment was stronger, more battle capable, while still not compromising their speed. Upon her gift to the squad, she called a private calibration, and for three days they drank and loudly shared rousing stories from their past. A photo now rested on Kahla's mantle, the seven of them with smiles on their faces, cheering and enjoying each other's company.

 

After her moment of reflection, she thought a moment, then turned to Harris. "All your experience on Raxus, perhaps you'd have a contact here in the factories?" Harris stopped to think a moment, then in his usual grizzled pride he assured "I think I can dig something up, what could I get for you?" Kahla looked back to the orange surface "A droid, something saber resistant maybe. I've heard rumors of an old Proxy droid, a Sith training droid used by the old Empire." Harris pondered, his hand running through his grizzled beard. "I'll find it, let you know when I do. Just remember, droid like that won't come cheap." She smiled, "I wouldn't expect any less."

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The response came quickly.

 

"This is Lieutenant Teris, my lord. If you're here to see Darth Mavanger, then please land your craft in on of the hangars of the Krayt's Fury. He, the Captain, and several other officers are busy planning the next stages of the invasion, but I'll have an escort meet you when you land to show you to him."

 

As the newly arrived Darth Akheron touched down, he was greeted by an young officer, barely in his twenties.

 

"Lord Akheron, Lieutenant Teris sends her regards. If you'll follow me, I can take you to Darth Mavanger's council. Please excuse the hurry- he'll want to greet you personally."

 

The lieutenant swiveled on his heel, setting off towards one of the hangar entrances at a brisk pace. He lead Akheron through a number of hallways and ship rooms, including an elevator and the mess hall, before they finally arrived. The officer snapped to attention, giving the Darth a respectful bow before motioning towards the room before thim. "He's inside, my lord. Only high command is allowed in, so I'm not privy to the discussion, but we do have orders to lead any newly arrived Sith to him ASAP, so you're welcome to continue."

 

Inside, Darth Mavanger was very busy. He was standing before a large holoprojection of the Outer Rim as officers and other Sith Lords moved to and fro. On it, there was only one blue planet in a sea of neutral territory. He glanced up as the door to the command center opened, before his attention was called away.

 

"Sir, the minor rebellion in Factory D4 has been quashed and production can proceed as planned."

 

Mordecai nodded, responding. "Excellent. Have our scouts reached back to us on potential local contacts?"

 

"Not yet sir."

 

Another officer entered, commanding attention.

 

"My lord, we have it through reliable sources that the Rebels have established a base of operations on Bothawui. They stand against us, my lord."
 

Mordecai grunted. It wasn't entirely unexpected- Bothawui, on it's own, was unimportant, but its position was a key locale that allowed direct access to Nar Shaddaa, the rebel hubworld. That the rebels had swayed the notoriously insurgent Bothans to their side was no surprise. He pushed a series of buttons and the digital representation of Bothawui turned from white to red. There was only a moment of calm, and he took it to greet his fellow Darth. 

 

"Welcome to the Outer Rim, Darth Akheron. I apologize for not meeting you as you landed- we've only just made beachhead here, and as you can tell, there is much work to be done."

 

"Sir, work orders for you to look over."

 

Mordecai took the data slate, skimming over it for the information he needed before nodding and handing it back. 

 

"As I was saying, much to do."

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Slipping out of hyperspace, two vessels joined the growing cluster of warships above the orange ball of Geonosis.

 

The S-161 yacht The Eternus and the Baudo yacht The Iron Howlrunner seemed entirely out of place among so many vessels geared for war. The power of the two Krath who flew aboard them however, was another knot of dark energy to add to the swirling maelstrom of the Force that had been born of so many Sith Lords collecting in one place.

 

A raspy voice broadcast over the hailing frequencies.

 

"This (cough) is Krath Apothos, accompanied by Krath Inmortos. The lords of Mon Calamari would join their efforts to this endeavor. Permission to board."

 

The message cut out, and in his cockpit, the hunched, twisted form of Krath Apothos devolved into a painful fit of coughing, his whole body shaking with each labored breath. The dull, grey skin of his hands turned white as he clenched and unclenched his fists. While his body suffered though, his mind reached out through the Force.

 

The Force nearly boiled in the presence of so many practitioners of the Dark Side. Each sat distinct as a node of corruption that-

 

Apothos paused in his examination.

 

There...

 

He knew that presence.

 

Under the black cloth that covered his face, Apothos smiled.

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Darth Akheron, remained silent as he allowed the young lieutenant to lead the way to the war council, and so Darth Mavanger the man he had come to see. The only movement made was to briefly bow when they first met and allowing him to do the talking. Listening, Karys observed his new surroundings, impressed by the ship and crew as he was walking past.

 

In the Force, he could feel everything. Feelings of pride, glory, rage, hatred. A whole mix of emotions. Entering the war council, Darth Akheron bowed as he faced his equal, Darth Mavanger, showing all due respect. Overhearing that Bothawui had fallen to the newly formed Rebels, Karys was disappointed a little. But it was not unexpected of the Bothans. Bothawui, after all on it's own, was nothing too important, only that it allowed for direct access to Nar Shaddaa, which once belonged to the Hutts. He had heard it had since become the Headquarters for the Rebel insurrection. 

 

A target they would take back eventually. For now, the Outer Rim awaited. Again, remaining silent, he allowed Darth Mavanger to speak, only speaking when he was addressed directly.

 

 "No apologies are necessary, I can tell how busy you are here. As the old saying goes 'a warriors work is never done', I must say I am most impressed by all this. And I respect one who knows the true value of the warrior, one who travels the warrior's path like myself and understands it's intricacies. Captain Hurst was right to speak most highly of you, speaking of which he informs me, you have need of me in this endeavour.

 

I was curious to to the specifics of that. And perhaps I may be of use to you here. I hate to just stand around like a spare droid, I 'm sure you understand. As a man of action yourself." 

 

 It was at that moment in the Force, he felt them. More had arrived. More Sith. Stretching out in the Darkness, he allowed his Wrath to extend and bid them welcome. He paused for a moment, as he felt something familiar...like he knew one of them, from a time before...A time before his rebirth. It was most curious, and intriguing...he would soon see just who it was. 

 

 

 

 

Edited by Karys Narat iv-Adas
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"The universe started in darkness at a time when light didn't exist, and that is how it will end. Chaos and suffering is what brings us together. In chaos a man or woman will show who he or she really is and in suffering they will speak the truth. We are darkness incarnate, we are the evil. This cannot be denied, even by me. But without us there is no redemption, passion or order." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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Krath Inmortos sat perfectly still within the confines of his sparse yet luxurious vessel. He did not need, nor did he desire, to see the amassed naval forces of the Sith Empire. Such trivialities were but a means to an end in the necromancer’s eye.


At the helm, a partially decayed Quarren held the controls deathly still. It was good, for he was dead. The spark of life that powered him was a gift from the necromancer. He was little more than a mindless shambler, dedicated to the one task he was set to, in this case, docking. Elsewhere in the ship a baker’s dozen of other shambling dead Quarren and Mon Cal stood at the ready; armed with blaster carbines taken from the Mon Cal security forces and hodge-podged armor.

 

The sweeping wave of darkness that Inmortos felt upon their arrival in the system was as unsettling as it was comforting. There was power here. It was Inmortos’ to tap and use, just like the life forces he could see across the orbit of the barren world. 
 

Pleasantries had been exchanged by lessers; pleasant being a strong word when one conversed unknowingly with the dead. Regardless, an offer to board the Krayt’s Fury was extended and in a short time both Inmortos’ craft as well as newly minted Apothos’ had docked and the Sith Lords of Mon Cal descended to the deck within.

 

Inmortos’ grizzly escort had formed up in ranks at the base of his craft’s walkway heralding the black-swathed lord. The Sith lord’s skin was fresh havibg been regrown in a matter of days, the last telltale sign of Inmortos’ and Apothos’ profane rituals on Mon Cal. The skin, new and fresh, appeared pale and sickly yet. The dark side taking it’s toll against the being’s naturally increase healing rate.

 

The man’s footfalls were nearly silent. Each one taken with a certainty that seemed to carry across time itself. The echoing thump, thump, thump of Inmortos’ Ithor wood based cane carried across the bay.

 

Meeting with a lower commander, the duo of Sith were escorted along the same path Darth Akheron had followed shortly before. Inmortos could feel the tendrilled trail of evil that clung to the air in the Sith warrior’s wake.

 

After several minutes of slow methodical walking, the Sith of Mon Cal joined the warriors within the command center. It had been a long and nearly silent trek through the ship; save for the whir of Apothos’ machinations and the hubbub of the ship itself.

 

Once at the command center, Inmortos drew himself up a short distance from the warriors. He knew better than approach unannounced. He could feel the ragged spirit within the cursed blade that hung at his waist. It seemed to hunger for the warriors’ bloodthirst. Inmortos’ face cracked into a smile as one hand held the heavy dagger-pommel of his cane, the other patting the sword’s hilt like a parent silently reprimanding a child. He was the blade’s master and with it the malevolent spirit within.

 

Shadowed beneath his deep cowl and flowing silk robes, Inmortos turned his eyes to the other Sith in the command center with a smile that revealed his blackened gums and yellowed teeth. “Our presence has been foretold. Bloodshed and death united. Ten thousand years of peace beneath the Sith rule. I am Darth,” the necromancer paused as he silently caught himself and corrected, “Krath Inmortos.” The eccentric cold lord of the dead introduced himself as if the third-world ancient pagan prophecy he spoke of was common knowledge; that all present had poured their lives into the most obscure  reading of Dread Lord texts. From the furthest reaches of the Sith Empire, Inmortos had only just presented himself to the wider galaxy on Mon Cal. It was time to claim slaves, bodies to throw into the grinder; upon which to build his eternal resting place. Few may know of him, but it did not matter. After this campaign, once the galaxy was secured beneath the boots of the living Sith soldiers, all would know of Inmortos. His tomb would enshrine an entire world to his name. He would never be forgotten.

Edited by Leena Kil

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Entering behind the necromancer, Krath Apothos rode into the room.

 

The hunched, grey skinned thing that might have once passed for a neimoidian sat curled up in a high-backed Emperiax Walking Throne, followed by an honor guard of six DG-series "Deepguard" battle droids, Monitor class. A silky, black cloth lay draped over his head and down to his shoulders, completely obscuring his features, and a red robe hung off of the rest of his emaciated body. The six spindly legs of the throne clicked and clinked along the metal floor as it maneuvered its bulk towards the command center.

 

As the chair moved, its rider said nothing, but his sightless eyes locked onto Darth Akheron, the black veiled facer following him as his throne bore Apothos to stand...sit...next to Krath Inmortos.

 

As Inmortos finished his introduction, Apothos tore his attention away from Akheron, saying nothing to his former master. Instead, he only said, "Krath Apothos," in brief introduction.

Edited by Krath Apothos
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The Anaxes wargroup arrived, heralded by the old model Victory class Star Destroyer Hellkite. Which slipped out of hyperspace over the dusty planet, maneuvering below the horizon line and dropping into orbit outside the rest of the fleet. The commander of the fleet element transmitted orders to his attache and the three special operations companies making up Darkhand received preliminary orders for stand down and their commanders were dispatched to the Fleet Command vessel. Delta, his lieutenants, and the two other captains made their way by shuttle. 

 

This was objectively the largest joint command group he had seen since Dark Sun and when he was ushered into the briefing room, he was in the company of many sith lords. But he was the leader of the SOG, and a well respected commander. He saluted the commanding officer and stayed silent. He was a soldier and had no sith magic at his disposal. Just decades of experience, which he hoped would even the odds. 

THEDARKWATCH.png.ee904c69a072d3ac6497762608f2e8a2.png

Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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Mordecai listened to Darth Akheron's words. He spoke like a warrior, and if his reputation was worthy then he fought like one too. His musing could not move further than that, however, as two more Lords entered, followed shortly after by the commando known as Delta. He set his dataslate down, looking over the new arrivals. They were strong. For Darth Akheron and Captain Delta, reputations preceded the arrivals. But for those such as the two Krath who had arrived, it was only a matter of time until this campaign forged the beginnings of new stories and victories.

 

"There is no need to bow, Darth Akheron. While I am in command of this armada and its forces, we are all equals in this room. I welcome the assistance of all who are new here, and I'd like to welcome you all to the Outer Rim. Krath Inmortos, Krath Apothos, I'm glad that I have the support of Mon Calamari's current overlords. Captain, your reputation proceeds you. I welcome any insights into our strategy that your experience may provide. Now that individual greetings are out of the way, you've all arrived just in time. With Geonosis secured and its factories and shipyards coming online as we speak, we are almost ready to begin our expansion in earnest. There are three targets that require our immediate attention. Falleen, Trulalis, and Aaris III."

 

He accessed the control panel to the holographic map, and after a few keystrokes a planet expanded into the forefront.

 

"Falleen is a planet full of xenophobic nobles. They may require more... persuasion than other systems in this sector. Darth Akheron, Captain Delta, I trust your combined ability and experience should quicken their decision to join the Sith Empire."

 

A few more button presses and a second planet took the place of Falleen.

"Aaris III is an archeological gold mine, full of old ruins and a nearly extinct civilization. It's unremarkable save for it's proximity to other major worlds in the Outer Rim. Krath Inmortos and Krath Apothos, I'm sure you'd enjoy your time there while I prepare to accommodate your abilities properly."

 

He closed the projection, the map returning to it's original state.

 

"Then, there is Trulalis. It is a world of special interest to me, and I shall be taking Darth Tyra to establish an outpost in the system. As a final note, we are here to civilize the Outer Rim, not destroy it. Always try the diplomatic approach first, both for the Dark Lord's vision and my own. The less time we get bogged down fighting rebellions and insurrections on forcefully subjugated planets, the better. If you have any questions or comments, now is the time to voice them. 

Edited by Mavanger

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The necromancer stood silently as he listened. The man’s breath crystalized with each frigid exhalation. He leaned heavily on his cane as his eyes flicked from one person to another in the room. He could feel the life presences of each in the room. Some of them would be worth more in his collection than others. Regardless, should any of them fall, Inmortos would be there to salvage their dying breath. 
 

As his name was spoken, Inmortos turned his eyes to the projection. Aaris III . . . . archeological? The world was ripe for the plucking, bodies, the stench of death, technologies of a bygone era. It was a veritable playground. Inclining his head upwards towards Darth Mordecai, Inmortos dried lips cracked, bloody black ichor running down his chin. “We shall partake of this feast. In two weeks time, an army should be raised at our command.”

 

Turning a hungering gaze towards Apothos, Inmortos nodded. “Let us see how your freedom manifests itself beyond the industrial stage. Bring your guard. The force will do the rest.”

 

Inmortos turned as the groups broke up to discuss their pending assignments. Beneath his swirling robes he shuffled alongside the clattering chair of Krath Apothos towards the exit. He paused at the door to look back at the gathering of war masters, “Two weeks. Two armies for the Sith war chest.”

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Darth Akheron, considered the words spoken by Mordecai. Falleen. He had heard of it, it was a planet well known for it's xenophobic attitude towards the galaxy and yet they had potential, if they would only move beyond this. Their martial prowess, resistance to mind trick's and strong pheromones would be a major boon if the Sith could convince them to join.

 

Indeed, Akheron saw the potential in this and more. Falleen was a location ripe for the picking, one he might be able to mold and influence. For he knew well.how such a people's minds worked to a degree. He could see his own people very much mirrored in the Falleen species. Both in terms of culture and thinking themselves superior to others. Only to be brought low. But first he would need to aid the endeavour to capture the planet and then begin the process of convincing it's people of the benefits of joining the Sith Empire. 

 

Answering, he replied, his voice slow and steady. Deadly serious, as always he was when it came to doing a job. 

 

 "Sorry, it's a force of habit, I appreciate that you view me as such. Falleen, you say. Most excellent, this falls in line with some of my plans. In many ways the Falleen remind me of back home, xenophobic, thinking themselves better than everyone...superior kind of attitude. Silly really when one thinks about it.

 

And yet there also lies incredible potential in the species. And old habits can be broken. I am most interested in their martial ability, resistance to mind trick's of the force and highly potent pheremones. All of which I believe we can potentially use to the Sith Empire's advancement, should we be successful. And yet these will also prove most troublesome when we get there. 

 

Do we have something that can potentially protect our troops from falling to these pheremones? Besides standard equipment. Last thing we need is for troops to start getting all hot and bothered when they should be fighting or keeping order."

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"The universe started in darkness at a time when light didn't exist, and that is how it will end. Chaos and suffering is what brings us together. In chaos a man or woman will show who he or she really is and in suffering they will speak the truth. We are darkness incarnate, we are the evil. This cannot be denied, even by me. But without us there is no redemption, passion or order." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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Delta looked sideways at the Sith Lord known simply as Akheron, then snapped his attention to the Sith in overall command of the campaign. 

 

“Will all due respect to Lord Akheron, Imperial troops and commandos are issued helmets with built in filtration of up to a hundredth of a micron. Add to that a Decree that anyone caught attempting to use biological weapons to influence soldiers results in the death of not only them but their entire communities and those that shelter them, and we won’t have much of a problem. In my opinion sir.” 

 

He let his gaze return to the holomap.

 

“Other than that it should not be too hard to maintain control of a species with a strict hierarchy. Take their leadership, and they fall.” 

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Commander - Darkhand Brigade - Sith Empire

Blood Prince

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As the insectile legs of Apothos' chair guided him out of the command center, his face held on Darth Akheron again, before finally turning away.

 

Let us see, my former master, if you are still the burning beacon of power I first saw on Onderon, he thought to himself. And let us see if that power is enough to grasp a world.

 

His attention lingered briefly on the clone commander.

 

...Wait...yes, I know that one...from Mon Cal.

 

The tunnels. Yes...

 

Dangerous...

 

Then his throne passed out of the room, and he drew his attention back to the task at hand.

 

Aaris III...

 

With a thought, he commanded the communicator embedded into his throne to access his ship's records and draw up information on the remote little planet. Reading code directly was still incredibly difficult for him, but simple information like this was possible, if not easy. Given his lack of normal sight though, he predicted he'd come to rely more and more on this skill in the future.

 

A ruined planet of pirates and primitives. Destroyed itself through war...

 

He smiled underneath the cloth that covered his face.

 

______________________________________________________________

 

The Ironhowlrunner and The Eternus detached from the fleet.

 

Within minutes, they'd jumped back into hyperspace.

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Mary's listened intently, even as the Krath,, Mon Cal lords left. Get again did, Akheron have the feeling that one was watching him briefly, as if studying. And then he placed it, he had seen him before...in a past long gone. A former apprentice, Nok Morliss he recalled. At the time he had proven of little value, although it appeared since he had found his calling.

 

And broken his chains, which brought a brief smile. It seemed he had taken some of his lessons to heart even if he had completed his training under another. Akheron cursed himself at his apparent lack of knowledge regarding some current technology. 

 

 He would remedy that later, for now more important matters needed his focus. Taking everything in, Karys replied.

 

"I must have been gone longest than I thought, forgive my lack of knowledge regarding current technology. That should do the job, and that Decree would be most effective too. Despite this I think we should at least see if they are open to diplomacy. Perhaps there is some way we can appeal to their better sense. After all we offer much, perhaps they may yet be convinced. 

 

We shall see soon enough. As a contingency, should diplomacy fail...I was going to say, taking the leadership would be a priority. If back home is anything to go by, kidnapping the heir apparents, to include children...as much as I dislike doing that, killing off or threatening the house leaders and if needed wiping out entire bloodlines and houses always is a effective tactic. It seems we share the same opinion on the matter somewhat. Have you any suggestions as to how we approach with the fleet, should we need.....a area I regret is not my forte as such my suggestions in that regard would be rather limited." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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"The universe started in darkness at a time when light didn't exist, and that is how it will end. Chaos and suffering is what brings us together. In chaos a man or woman will show who he or she really is and in suffering they will speak the truth. We are darkness incarnate, we are the evil. This cannot be denied, even by me. But without us there is no redemption, passion or order." - Darth Akheron

 

I survived the Great JNet Outage of 2012

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  • 2 months later...

Darth Mavanger had returned. The battle for Naboo still raged, but his condition had left him unable to assist further. His weapons had been lost to the abyss, and he required new ones. This is what led him to where he stood now- In a darkened chamber, illuminated by naught but the flames of its forge. Deep within the belly of his base of operations, it waited, simmering until he had arrived. He held the Sith holocron that he had recovered on Trulalis close- It had yielded its secrets to him already, but he would not risk his newest endeavor on carelessness. To the side of the room sat several crates of rare raw materials, a gift from the new Dark Lord, intended to allow him to forge a new pair of weapons. His armor had been discarded- too heavily damaged to repair, he had opted to go without here, in the privacy of his forge. His body ached- he still wasn't fully recovered, but he was in a good enough condition to do what he needed to here.

 

The fires were stoked as he approached, roaring to life with the dark energy he had instilled in it upon creation. He had spent weeks practicing in the forge, spending entire days on the craft at times. He did not have the time worn experience of Darth Nyrys or the smiths on Mustafar and Korriban, but what he lacked in experience, he gained in drive, and in talent. His rage fueled his craft, his hatred fueling his drive to learn in a way he had not felt since his time on Korriban as an apprentice. It was a welcome distraction from his grief, though he loathed to admit it. The massacre on Naboo had not been enough. He had failed to exact his vengeance, and that frustration had boiled over into something he had not felt for himself before- Hatred. Disgust. Jarvus was dead, and he'd failed to avenge him.

 

He placed the metals within the forge, and began to work.

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Mordecai's hammer struck the soft, unformed metal as it glowed with heat. The Dark Side pulsed around the fledgling blade, seeping into its metals, wrapping around the metal at the atomic level in seeping tendrils, binding and corrupting the blade as it was hammered into shape. He let his vision guide him- the Holocron had not given the blueprints to a specific sword, but rather how to make a new one, and Mordecai would take full advantage of this, forging a pair of blades to not only replace his lost sabers, but to reach his full potential as a warrior. The heft of the hammer was comforting, its impacts against the newly forged Sith Steel a welcome catharsis, a center for his disjointed emotions. Hatred and rage were poured into every strike, shaping the blade into a thing of savage beauty, a simplistic elegance that reflected his personality and his combat prowess.

 

He'd been working for days now, and the first blade was only just beginning to reach its full potential, the blackened steel a dark reflection of his drive and purpose, twisted and hardened under the same grief and anger that had twisted and hardened his own heart. His face was pressed into a mixture of sorrow and rage as he worked. He had lost so much on this crusade. For the Sith. For his people. And yet, the Dark Lord Exodus had left him, unsupported, on the cusp of greatness, and when the Sith Empire teetered on the brink of collapse, he had abandoned them. He was better informed of the situation surrounding the disappearance now- He had taken those loyal to him to Felucia, to root out the Jedi presence there, and when one of his trusted underlings had blown the mission, he had disappeared. It was unknown whether the man had run away, been defeated, or if he had been lost to his own devices of similarly secretive measures. His rage sparked again as he lingered on these thoughts, and he unleashed brutal blow upon brutal blow upon the blade, each blow infusing it with further hatred, further anger, forged in the crucible of his emotions. With each blow, the metal took further shape, guided by the Dark Side as he channeled it.

 

It was another two days before the blade was finished, and he gazed upon it proudly. This weapon would slay thousands in the name of his grief, and it would be known by a single name by all who bore witness to its bloodshed, and they would know that their death was of their own making.

 

 

Imeall Dólás, the Edge of Sorrow

Edited by Mavanger

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He had only taken a few hours to eat and to sleep before he had returned to the forge. His grief had been poured into Imeall Dólás, and the well had run dry, if only temporarily. All that remained in his heart now was his rage, a never ending sea of turbulent hatred and fury. The second blade had begun to take shape, and like the blade before it, he poured everything he had into it. In the fires of his emotions the blade was forged, and in the fires of war would it be quenched. His hammer echoed in the forge as he worked- His underlings and followers hadn't dared disturb him yet. He gazed upon the completed blade with pride and anticipation.

 

He had been sequestered inside of this forge for weeks. Now he could rest. Recuperate. And when that was done, he could take these blades, these pieces of his soul made manifest, and he could strike down those who stood against him. He could avenge his loved ones, and he could burn the Rebel Alliance to the ground. Here, on the eve of finishing his project, he knew in his heart that the only time he would be sated was with the complete and utter disintegration of the rebels and their Jedi protectors. He would kill every Knight, trooper, and Jedi that got in his way, and then, when no more stood before him, he would root them out of their holes and he would crush what remained. This was the oath that he swore upon the blades, and as he did, he knew the second name, and it struck his very core.

 

Imeall Sceimhle, the Edge of Terror

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