(Sith Mission) The Enemy of My Enemy Isn't My Friend

Tulos

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In the darkest hours of the Thalassian day cycle, a Sith landing cruiser soared through space, and took to it's descent into the thick atmosphere. Aboard the vessel were three men and their pilot. The first was the dark and mysterious Arten Kalla, another was the aspiring Apprentice named Baigo Trandon, and finally the Barabel Sith, Grik Vohari. Their mission; To spark a rebellion...
Baigo stood in silence as the vessel cut through the dark night, coasting just along the top of the trees at the base of a mountain. The wind wiped and howled, and the ship shook from a momentary lapse on the pilot's behalf. The young Sith was lost in thought, trying to piece together how him and his companion could reach their target with the simplest plan, with the lowest cost of life. Lowest cost, until the target had been retrieved that is. The mission was more of a political one, in a sense. Rescue the rallyhead slave Jert Thursam, and wrongly convince him that the Brotherhood only has the greatest concern for him and his allies. From there, chaos would ensue as the Thalassian's were wiped from the sector. A simple plan, but an effective one.

The ship found it's designated landing zone, and hovered in a small clearing a short distance from the slaver camp.

"We're rather close... Are you sure they haven't detected us?" Baigo asked then pilot.

"Negative. Command has been jamming their surveillance and communications since we entered the atmosphere..." he replied. "Contact me on your communicator when your ready to be extracted."

With a nod, Baigo drew his lightsaber hilt, and jumped from the landing ramp into the shallow snow below. He stared down the path before him, and awaited Arten to arrive at his side.

"So what do you think? Ruthless and efficient, or stealth and guile?" he said as he turned to the man once he appeared.

@Necris
 
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Cailst

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"Tell him stealth and guile. Way less messy." Ravi said to Arten right before Arten made it out of the ship.

Admittedly, those were two strengths of Ravi and he preferred to use them when possible. He just wasn't a huge fan of bodily harm, it hurt way too much. Plus, this mission probably would go smoother without a horde of angry slavers on their tail. That'd be really annoying.

And to think, if he'd been a little less lucky, he might have been one of the slaves. If his creditors had captured him early on, they might have sent him to Thalassia. That certainly would have been a rough life. And he would have virtually no chance of seeing Ruan again, unlike the still vanishingly small chance it would happen in the present timeline.

But this time, he was freeing the slaves. And a great feeling it was. To be part of a grand crusade, to free the captives, and to correct the inefficiency of forced labor. And some people claimed the Sith Empire were all evil. He'd show them. Or at least, that's what he remembered of the mission when they were briefed last.
 

Necris

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He strode down the ram barely registering the pilot speaking to him, they rarely spoke and this had proven a novelty for him so much so that he'd failed to even notice being addressed, he regarded the terrain as he joined his much younger companion coming up along side him.

"So what do you think? Ruthless and efficient, or stealth and guile?"

He looked at the terrain and the bastion before them, the prisoners were being held in there prior to their execution he could feel the despair emanating from with in the walls higher up stood the aptly names Master's Tower a refuge for the slave masters a monolith of dominance towering above the rest of the city, a testament to the masters power and authority.

"We could take a direct path, enter through the gates and offer the assistance of the Sith Empire is crushing this rebellion. This has been an embarrassing time for them and as one of their major customers this does not reflect well on their abilities to meet our needs."

He looked along the line of the fortress before them as the wind picked up and the temperature dropped.

"Or we could opt for stealth and infiltrate the Bastion under the cover of darkness, reach the cells and extract the prisoners."

He stroked the smooth surface of the mask he always wore.

"Either way this will likely end in a violent confrontation with many deaths, but Jert Thursam is our priority he can unify the rebellion here and lead a coup to destabilize this world enough so our forces will simply roll over any resistance that might stand against us."
 

Tulos

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Baigo nodded as Arten spoke. He was all too correct, of course. The gap between this moment and bloodshed was ever growing smaller, and he couldn't wait. The adrenaline rush he had been craving since he received this assignment from his Master was at a soft boil in his soul, ready to explode. Baigo looked up towards the Master's Tower, and began to debate on the options that his companion had provided.

"Perhaps walking in the front doors isn't too bad a plan. I think your right. The embarrassment the Slave Masters have endured, and their pride may be shattered. Shall we?"

Baigo began the short climb to the gate of the complex, the cold wind picking up even further. Snow whipped across everything before him, and the Sith found himself appreciating his mask more than the norm. As he pushed on, he centered his mind and prepared for what was to come. The force would be his weapon, and these slavers would know their time on this world was at it's bloody end...

They arrived at the gate, and a tall Thaassian holding a heavy repeater greeted them.

"Halt, strangers! What are you doing here? No one is supposed to be here! You have to leave... Now!" Clearly, the door guard was not expecting any unannounced visitors.

"Calm, beast. We are members of the Brotherhood. We wish to speak with your leaders of the recent... events," Baigo said with a hidden smirk behind his mask.

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In the top of the Master's Tower, the Master of the camp paced back and forth, his blue cape fluttering softly behind him. He was an older man, but his prescence demanded respect. One could not look into his eyes and not feel the sense of authority emanated from him. He dominated the camp with a cold, ruthless fist. Many slaves would die by his hands for the insurgence they had attempted, of that he was sure. But how was the best way to go about it? Kill the fool who rallied his scum of an army before them to quash any hope of freedom, or make him watch his friend's die first? He sat down in the grand chair behind his desk, and looked to the two informants before him.

"I believe that this Jert fellow is no longer an asset to us. His presence at these facilities will only bring further unrest and another insurgence. He must be erradicated. Tonight. But I want him to suffer... Does this man have any close friends or family here with him?" The Slave Master looked to his two men while holding the tips of his fingers together as he leaned on his desk.

"Yes, m'lord. His wife and two kids, as well as two slaves he has bonded with since his arrival all survived the insurgence and have been detained," one of them replied.

"Good. I want them to face a firing squad. Make Jert watch. Once it is done, sedate him. His death will be quite the spectacle. These scum will learn who their Master is..."
 

Gian Greydragon

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The Barabel stood in silence for the ride to Thalassia. He occupied himself by cleaning his blaster rifle and scattergun. The Grik stood a staggering 7'3" tall, and every inch of it was muscle and dense scales. He wore no chest armor, but had two pauldrons of durasteel and cortosis construction, as well as some simple cloth pants and greaves of the same construction as the pauldrons. Wrapped tightly around his pauldrons, so it draped over him, keeping in as much warmth as he could, a heavy hide cape and hood, which incidently looked stained with blood, though the blood was not fresh, it had been there for quite some time. Being cold-blooded put him at a disadvantage in the snowy climates such as these, and he'd prepared for this.

This place left a sour taste in his mouth. As a youngling on Barab I, he witnessed a childhood companion be kidnapped by a group of Thalassian slavers, and likely would have ended up being taken here. He spent the trip to the planet in silence, speaking to neither of the other two Brethren along with him. As the ship descended upon the planet, he loaded his kit onto his back and into their respective sheathes and made his way to the loading bay, where the trio would exit. He towered over the other two by at least a foot, and had to hunker over in order to get out of the ship without banging his head on something.

Beginning the hike up the trail to the base, Grik hissed at the biting wind and snow as it began beating against his scaly chest.

Grik trailed behind the men on the walk up to the base, taking in what he could about the area. The cold climate was counterbalanced slightly by a heavier cape that draped over his heavy pauldrons. The hilt of his greatsaber was concealed as it was clipped on, horizontally, to the rear side of his black trousers. Once the guard began yelling, Grik reached around his back for his blaster, but, Arten, the masked human lifted a hand at the man and spoke in a calm tone. This caused Grik to only pull the weapon around to his side, instead of bringing it up to the ready position and taking aim. He approached, lining himself up with the other two, standing next to Baigo, the Sith Warrior.
 
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Necris

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He didn't even pause in his tried as the guard levelled his weapon his hand came up slowly in a non threatening manner.

"You are going to let's us past, you are going to take my companions to the prison cells."

The sheer force and brutality of the mind trick saw the guard visibly shake as the thoughts were implanted in his mind. Arten strode up and past him as he turned and gestured for the door to be open.

"Open up they have clearance!"

The guard at the doorway gave a curious look then at the three approaching the shrugged and obliged opening the heavy doors, Arten watched as the doors swung open thankful he didn't have to tear them down, while it would have been possible it would have been time consuming.

He turned to the first guard and spoke again still enforcing his will upon the man.

"Remember take them straight to the prison cells."

The man nodded dumbly and he continued onto the second as the guard gestured for the other two to follow, he turned his attention to the guard at the door.

"You are relived."

He again shook as his will was dominated but again nodded and headed off into the tower.

He headed in the direction of the lifts summoning one.

--

Deep in the bowls of the Bastion Guard Captain Kurpis paced impatiently he had wanted to make an example of the rebel as soon as they'd captured him, hang him infront of his followers make his death quick and symbolic of the masters power, show how little the masters vauled his threats of rebellion and how swiftly they would deal with any who followed.

But no the Masters wanted to draw it out make his suffer for the emmbaresment he had caused, torture and break him before finally expecting him, they wanted his followers to see a broken and beaten slave

While he wasn't happy about the masters decision he was only too happy to beat and torture the prisoners, flanked by two heavy combat droids he wielded a shock maul a long pole arm that he was skilled with in his hands it was a surgical weapon able to shatter bones into a dozen peices with a single tap.

Now it was his instrument of pain a gentle prode in the right place sent agonising pain through.

"You know you are all just meat waiting for the slaughter, the masters have stated they want you all nice and tender before your very public executions, that's where I come in, my job is to break you before you ultimate demise."

He moved prodding one of the meat bags hanging he was rewarded with a scream of agony.

"You hear that leader, this man followed you, look what happened to him, hung like a fine tenderloin ready for the oven."

He laughed as he jabbed another one hanging around him, he checked a comm unit on his wrist and turned to look at his prize catch.

"Oh there is news for you my friend, seems your time here might be coming to a close, but not just yet I don't want to spoil the surprise but the masters have a treat in store for you."

He turned walking away his laughter echoing loudly as he went
 
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Ravi lifted the bird back into the sky. The communications of the slavers were still jammed so he had some freedom to poke around. The altitude would give him a better view of the area and would allow him to figure out just how to extract the guy when they finally got him. It was somewhat tedious but he did enjoy the birds eye view of the complex. Hopefully, those on the ground remembered the maps from briefing to be sure they were going the right place.

In any event, Ravi had his ear to the comm in case they needed any direction or something went wrong.
 

Tulos

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Baigo let out a soft chuckle as Arten turned the Thalassian into a walking and breathing puppet, twisting the man's mind around his finger. As the guard began to walk towards the holding cells, splitting off from the group heading towards the Master's Tower, the young Sith fell in line and pulled his hood further across his head. Arten was a capable man, and whatever happened in the tower, Baigo was sure he could handle it. The guard slowly walked across the facilities, his mind still tainted by Arten's power, until they arrived at a steel building that was built to go inside the mountain. As the wind howled across the open area, the guard began to type his access code into the control panel, but his hand stopped mere moments before he finalized the code with his hand print. He stood there motionless for a few moments, before turning and facing the Sith before him. Baigo's lightsaber dropped down his sleeve and into his hand, sensing that the Thalassian before him was about to make a terrible decision.

With a roar, the man raised his rifle and fired shot after shot towards the apprentice, but the teal blade came to life, and the shots each were reflected away, dissappearing into the snowy landscape. The guard stopped firing for a moment, giving Baigo the opportunity to reach out with the Force end begin to crush the man's windpipe. The rifle hit the ground as he began to rip the invisible power from his neck.

"Your services are no longer required. Thanks for everything," Baigo said to the man, before pulling his arm back, and thrusting forward. The force enveloped the man, and he was flung directly into the mountain wall. The Sith walked to the corpse of the man, and moved his blade over the arm, cutting through the forearm. The hand now severed, he carried it to the access pad, and lined up every finger into the appropriate guidelines. The screen flashed green, followed by the heavy steel door sliding open. Baigo smiled again, and tossed the hand over his shoulder.

"Come, Grik. Let us go and relieve these men of their positions. I'd say they've worked hard enough for one day, wouldn't you?"

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Sitting at his desk, the Slave Master turned his chair to look out over his facility. The snow storm was getting intense, and he was hardly able to make out the partition between his land and that of wild Thalassia. While there were not many extremely violent animals in the mountaineous regions, the threat was still very real. Many slaves who had tried to escape in the past found this out the hard way. The man stood from his chair, and surveyed closer. One of the side entrances into the complex had begun to open, but the gusting winds and whipping snow made it complicated to see what had happened exactly. He turned and leaned over the computer terminal built in to his desk, and pulled up the security footage. Many screens were frosted over from the storm, save the one pointed towards the lift for the tower. Three guards stood at the lift entrance with a man in dark robes, awaiting for the doors to slide open.

"Security," he said into the communicator, looking to inquire on who this man was, and what he was doing here. Yet no reply ever came. In return, all he heard was static.

"Security, answer me," he demanded. Still no reply. The Slave Master stood straight, and took a deep breathe. The dark hoods could only mean one thing. A Sith. And if they suspected the slave uprising was a sign of weakness...

He took a seat once more, and pressed a button on his desk. Two doors slid open on each side of the room, and a guard droid exitted from each, taking a position to each side of him. While the chances of the Sith coming here to cause violence didn't seem good, he had heard the stories. He took another deep breathe, and exhaled strongly.

"Relax, Vadik... Relax..." he whispered to himself. Even if the Sith was going to stir up trouble, the defences of the tower should be more than sufficient in dealing with a lone force user, he was sure. Instead, he turned the security system to the Tower's cameras. With no contact to the others around the facility, all he could do was watch.
 

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Grik chuckled at the man Arten had performed the mind trick on Thalassian guard, who turned to call up to the door man that they had clearance. Grinning, the Barabel hissed with delight at how easy it was.

"Soon, this one slaughters." he whispered to himself as he broke off from Arten, following Baigo out into the cold again, before the mind trick wore off, prompting Grik to draw his greatsaber, but come time for him to ready the blade, Baigo had dispatched the man by way of an impressive showcase of his force abilities. Grik nodded at him, grinning menacingly, and took point into the room. His murderous gaze fell upon the first unlucky soul to be within reach of the blood-starved Barabel.

With a vicious growl, Grik set upon his first target, lashing out with his greatsaber, in a diagonal slash, coming down on the man on his left clavicle, not before slicing clean through the man's rifle, as he lifted it in a foolish attempt to block the strike. The halves of the rifle fell, to the floor, followed by the upper quarter of the man's severed chest and head. Three more guard turned a corner, all three opening fire on the two Sith, which was answered by the 2 meter long blade, blocking, sweeping both sides of the hallway, when combined with his own reach, he was able to deflect all incoming blaster bolts, using the wider blade of his saber to his advantage, even getting lucky and deflecting one back at one guard, hitting him in the leg, causing him to drop to a knee.

After the barrage ended, Grik drew his single shot scattergun that had a round filled with nails and small sharp chunks of metal, and fired it into the man he injured, blasting his chest open with sharp metal. The other two paused in shock as the chest of one of their comrades seemingly exploded.

Grik charged forward, bashing one remaining guard with his pauldron knocking him off of his feet, while the other attempted to subdue the Barabel with a stun rod. This did little more than anger Grik, prompting him to swat the rod away from him and maul his face with the extended claws of his left hand, gashing his face then plunging the blade of his saber into his torso. The man on the floor attempted to stand but was yanked upwards, up to Grik's face.

"Jurt! Where is he, prey? Tell this one!" Grik roared, with his face only inches away from the terrified guard. As the man stammered, a heavy fist met his gut. "Speak, worm!"
 

Necris

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As he's stepped from the lift he'd been greeted by three armed guards, they stood with weapons levelled in his direction as the doors slid shut he spoke.

"You will do nothing."

They froze like statues and he smiled under his mask as the comm link came to life and the three men refused to move or answer, he could feel he fear ebbing from the room beyond, the rank stench of the fear flowing from these three as the realisation that he could kill them without them even resisting sank in.

He stepped past them his hand gesturing at the door causing it to open before him.

"I suggest you three leave."
He stepped into the office regarding the security droids as the doors closed behind him the locking mechanism engaging as he entered, he gestured as one of the chairs moved to accommodate his presence he sat as it rested on the ground.

"Master Vadik, my name is Arten Kalla I represent the Sith Brotherhood, though I suspect judging by the droids you already knew that, I've come to talk with you about the recent activity with your slaves."

As he sat he floated over a decanter of wine and a glass resting them on the man's desk.

"Please pour yourself a drink, we have much to discuss, but I should inform you two of my associates are currently making their way to your holding cells to take the rebel leader into our custody, I would hate for any violence to be directed towards them due to a miss understanding."
 

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"B-b-bottom level... Your crazy to go down there though..." the guard stammered as Grik growled in his face. "There are more than enough guard's down there to handle you two..."

Baigo let out a small chuckle as he walked in closer. "You underestimate the power of the Force, worm. Grik, make him suffer..."

Baigo grabbed the security key from the guard's belt, and turned from the man, leaving the Barabel to do as he wished. The screams echoed down the halls of the complex. Finally, as the man died and the screaming came to an end, Baigo turned to his partner.

"We must hurry. If they find out we're here for a man they already plan on killing... Doubt he's going to last long, don't you think?"

They sprinted down the halls to the nearest lift, and once inside, used the guard's security key. The doors slid shut and the elevator came to life, descending deep into the heart of the mountain.

"Next stop, bloodshed..." Baigo said as the lift came to a stop at their destination.

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Vadik was doing his best to remain calm as the Sith strode across the room, taking a seat opposite of him at his desk. With the simple flip of a switch, the turrets could become active at the door he had just entered, so Vadik believed he still had the upper hand.

"Jert? Why do you want to take the man who caused so much unrest? Wouldn't we both benefit from his death? And what misunderstanding are you referring to?"

His heart began to beat with extreme speed and intensity. Something was wrong, and if there were two more Sith in the facility... Today was a bad day...
 

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Grik's face contorted into a twisted grin as he was left alone with the guard. "Crazy, yes. This one is very crazy... beyond... crazy," he said, licking his scaly lips, with his long and menacing forked tongue, letting his companion move past him before plunging his several needle-like teeth into the guard's neck, prompting the screaming heard by Baigo. He rips the flesh away and repeated the process, leaving huge chunks missing from his flesh. With blood dripping from his lips down to his chin, he continues down the corridor, meeting with Baigo.

Having been too busy filling his gullet to hear what he said earlier, Grik followed silently, taking full advantage of his great height to reach the end of the corridor, where the lift was located. After he and Baigo were in the lift, Baigo closed the lift doors and they began their descent. On the way down, Grik checks his blaster rifle affixing his vibro dagger as a bayonet, and reloads his scattergun with an oddly colored shell, which surely indicated something special for the occasion.

"This one will bathe in crimson." Grik growled before the Barabel moved through the doors, hissing ecstatically.
 
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Necris

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He straightened in his seat eyes unblinking as he looked at the man before him, the quickening of his heart rate was like a sweet nectar to him, he savoured it.

"I unlike my companions am old enough to have learnt restraint, notice how none of your guardians are dead at my hands, the two I came are less likely to not leave a path of death and destruction should your guards resist them."

His eyes slid from the man to the droids at his side.

"I want Jert because I want him that's all you need concern yourself with, you made a mess of his rebellion it should have been crushed and forgotten about before we even heard about it, now you have a hero for the slaves to rally behind, execute him and you create a martyr something so them to use against you, in less than a cycle you'll be dead and they will rule this world."

His eyes snapped back to Vadik his voice deepening to a threatening growl.

"Don't think I didn't notice the turrets at the door, know I could snap you into kindling before your finger even reaches that switch, and your droids will be powerless to stop me."

His manner returned to a more calmer form.

"Now what I have planned for Jert is something much more exquisite, I intend to take him away from this place and break his mind, reforge him and unleash he on his supporters, twisted to our purpose he will destroy the rebels from within at our beck and call."

He relaxed back into the chair.

"Just imagine the turmoil of self when he realises he's led his wife and children along with the rest of his rebellion into our trap, a trap which will see them all brutally slaughtered in one swift efficient execution, an execution that will grow in infamy and spread the legend of terror that to challenge the masters rule leads to death and annihilation will secure your hold on this world for the next thousand years."
 

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The doors slid open, and Baigo's teal blade erupted from the hilt with a quiet hum as he slowly stepped out into the open. Six slavers were there to greet them, some relaxing and chatting during their down time, some tending to the three cells of slaves who were held back by a glowing shield. As they heard the buzzing of the blade, they each turned towards the Sith duo, and raised their weapons.

"Now let's make this quick, huh? Jert Thursam. Give him to us." Baigo said calmly.

"Not likely," one of the men replied, and sprinted in towards the Sith. He swung his blade in from Baigo's left for his hip, but with a quick raise of his arm and spin of his wrist, he parried the blade, and extended his other arm. Suddenly, lightning burst forward and enveloped the man. He screamed in pain, causing Baigo to only extend his suffering. Then, just before the man would die, he ran his blade through his stomache, coming in his lower abdomen, and exitting at the base of the neck.

"That wasn't one of the options..." he said before letting the dead body drop to the floor. Looking to his right, he saw the other five men readying for combat. He quickly spun to face them, and readied his blade for the incoming blaster fire. Shot after shot wizzed by, and each was deflected back towards the men, but no slavers were struck from the return fire. Slaves began to group directly on the other side of the shield, in awe as their captors became cornered, their hollering of support muffled by the divider.

"So you all pick death?" he replied, whirling his blade around to each side. "Suits me just fine!"

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Vadik began to sweat as the Sith mentioned the revolt. The nightmares from that night will never cease haunting him.

"My men... I can't contact them. Our technicians have been attempting to get our communications back up, but they've been down for a few hours now. Otherwise your arrival would not have been a surprise, m'lord." he said with false confidence. The Slave Master found himself mesmorized by the Sith's white mask, wondering what it would be like if that was the last thing he had seen in his life. He knew he had to tread carefully, or that would an all to real possibility.

As the man went on about his plan, Videk allowed himself to lean back in his chair, a moment to relax.

"So you want to turn our thorn in our side into a dagger for the slaves, essentially? Don't you feel that his companions could remind him of himself?"
 

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Grik erupted out of the lift, spraying blaster fire wildly, while charging one with the bayonet on his rifle, they locked rifles briefly before Grik ultimately overpowered him, and slashed him across the throat. From there, he extended one of his legs into a heavy back kick, that knocked one man into the wall and onto the floor. From there, he'd shoot the downed man dead and drew his greatsaber, hissing menacingly, and swinging, using full advantage of the 6 and a half foot blade to dispatch both with a mid level swing slicing through their shoulders. Before Grik could revel in victory, a shot from a blaster found its way to Grik's pauldron, knocking him off balance, briefly, and angering him further, but otherwise, no injuries to speak of.

"Raaah! You'll pay for that!" he exclaimed as he stretched out his left hand, pulling the manfrom the darkness, strangling him with the Force. Grik stood in silence, gazing into the man's eyes as they lost color from lack of oxygen, and the man asphyxiates, falling limp. Grik was not done, though, as another shot came from the darker portion of the corridor. Narrowly missing Grik, he flings the body into the direction of the bolt. Hearing a small collision of two bodies in the dark, a distressed yelp, and the sound of feet shuffling down the corridor away from them, the Barabel charged forward. "Ah yes! Proper hunt! Prey will run, this one will catch!" he shouted down the hall, leaving Baigo to follow behind him.


The Barabel would give chase only briefly as he ran the man down, shoulder charging him into a cell shield door, burning him horrifically. He, then, picked up the man by his hair, and held it against the cell, burning it further, the screams echoing around them, before all fell silent, as the man's throat was ripped out by the clawed hand of the Barabel warrior.
 

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Ravi continued his circle around the settlement. As the whirling turbines in the back kept him suspended in the air, sensors on the ship began mapping. With small signals sent out and reflected back, a clearer picture of the situation could truly be understood. Of course, there had been blueprints and whatnot collected beforehand but this was a far more recent map of far more use. Maybe further in the future, comparisons could be made to study the development of mining colonies and the aftermath of a slave revolt.

His ear remained ready to pick up any comm signals should they come in. As useful as the mapping could be, his ability to whisk his companions out of danger remained his chief purpose that could ultimately win both freedom for the slaves and the planet for the Sith.
 

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Baigo watched as the Barabel began what was only a gory demonstration as he took all five of the guard's down. While, he was a little let down that he only got to take down one of the men, he was more focused on the aspect that now they had to search the whole complex with no direction.

"Calm, my giant scaly friend. They will all die in due time. Let's not waste everyone before we complete our objectives, hmm?" the Sith stated as he walked beyond him. Instead of using the slavers, however, their captives could prove to be just as useful.

"Hello there," Baigo said to the slaves on the other side of the shield. "It sure is a wonderful day outside, isn't it? Oh wait... How long have you been in there?" he continued with a snide tone.

"Six weeks... What do you want with Jert, Sith?" the slave replied. Twi'lek, female, nothing out of the etraordrinary, aside from her clear distaste for the man before him. Clearly a Republic sympathiser.

"Well, our orders were to find him and get his help in rallying you fine folk into rebelling against these useless piles of skin over here," Baigo replied, angling his head towards the now dead, half necked slaver beside him. "Clearly he's convinced even the more spineless slaves here to do it once. Why not again?"

"I have troubles believing a Sith would come here to rescue us, and if I know better, so will Jert..."

Baigo chuckled while looking directly into the eyes of the woman before him. He raised his hand, and the security card from the dead man at his feet lifted through the air into his palm. Soon, the shield was deactivated, and the four slaves walked out, unsure of what was happening.

"You are free. You can either run and get shot down, or pick up some weapons and assist us. The choice is your own to make," Baigo announced as the slaves crowded before him and Grik. "Woman, I want you to guide me to Jert. Do you know this facility?"

She wasn't sure if she could believe him, but the Twi'lek slowly nodded. "Yes. I know where he is. If we aren't too late, anyway. Him and his family were sentenced to be executed."

"Then we must hurry. Lead the way," Baigo watched as the woman picked up a pistol from the dead man, as well as his ammo packs. Another slave grabbed an assault rifle, and the remaining two grabbed a sword each. Then they were on their way down the dark corridor, in search of the chamber that held their target.
 

Necris

From the shadows I return
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"You under estimate the power of the dark side, for example."

His eyes snapped up locking with Videk, a cold chil set over him as the air in the chamber became heavy with a weight he could not explain, Arten rose from his seat drawing his lightsabers and Videk went to flick the switch instinct taking him, his fingers rolled back in the wrong direction the sound of the bones break sickening in the ever increasing quietness of the office he rolled back as he watched the Sith slowly pace towards the door standing beside it the door slowly slid open beyond were dozens of his slaves their eyes glowing red they held crude bladed weapons fashioned from the cots they were forced to sleep on, Arten gestured as they filled the office he passed his own weapons to the leaders a withered woman and child they ignited the blades as they strode forward. Videk tried to bark orders at the droids tried to tell them to open fire his his jaw rushed to work, his throat constricted as pressure grew upon it, he couldn't move couldn't fight back he realised that Arten was holding him in place. The slaves stepped forward each one bearing down on him each one making a cut against his flash the pain from each cut was like fire burning his nervous system until only the mother and child remain. The mother drove the lightsaber's Crimson blade into his chest the agony he felt set his body into spasm, yet he still remained awake to watch the child bring the blade down across his face.

Videk fell backwards landing on his back gasping for air as his body continued to spasm, he lost control of his facilities and felt the urine pooling underneathe him, tears and snot streamed down his face as he struggled to comprehend his life ending, but it wasn't the room was empty the pressure that had built up vanishing a quickly as it had come and Arten Kalla was still sat in the chair as he had been, he chuckled as Videk lay on the floor in his own fluids.

"You see, the dark side can draw on your greatest fears and make them feel real, do you imagine that any one could resist our will if we can make them relive their greatest horrors over and over, you fear your slaves rising up and killing you."

He leant back in the chair his patience was growing thin.

"Bring Jert to me now!"
 

Gian Greydragon

The Great Blackholio
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Grik ran forward with the small group of slaves and his comrade, Baigo to the end of the corridor, where the execution was to take place, releasing slaves as they went. Using them as cannon fodder, Grik decided to let the slaves run in first, turning the attention to them and not those to be executed. Jert stood, bound to a mechanism forcing him to stand in the direction of his wife and children, who'd just about been shot and killed before the two Sith made it.

Grik used the Force to leap over to Jert and used his saber to cut the bindings, doing the same for his wife and child. While he did so, the child stared at the hulking Barabel. "What, child?" he barked, prompting the young children to cling to their mother, which made Grik want to toy with them more, but they had to stay in character for now. As the fighting ensued behind them, Grik took the mother and two children and hid them behind a control panel, out of the way of gunfire, before returning to the fray, slashing wildly into Thalassian guards.
 

Tulos

We The North
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Baigo watched as the slaves poured into the holding room and began to overwhelm the guards. As Grik released the man they had been comissioned to locate, he walked across the ensuing chaos, and placed his hand on Jert's shoulder.

"The time has come again, Thursam, to rally your men to take arms against your oppressors. And this time, the Brotherhood follows you in the charge," Baigo did his best to sound sincere, that he and his allies truely intended to help these people in securing their freedom, but behind the mask, all he could hope for was to be the one who could crush Jert's spirit before ending his life. After all, he will have now led two rebellions, and Baigo would not allow another embarrassment to ocur.

Within seconds, a blaster shot sped across the room, and the Sith reacted. His arm rose, and the lightsaber in his hand ignited. Just as the beam was about to reach it's target, the blade deflected it back into the head of another slaver guard. He looked to the source of the assault, and saw a brute of a man standing with his rifle hanging at his side, staring directly at him. Baigo could only assume he was the captain of the men located here. He cocked his head to the side as he maintained his stare on the man.

"Oh buddy... I'm going to enjoy gutting you. This one's mine!"

Baigo leapt forward, attempting to shower the man in lightning spewing from his finger tips, until he landed at his side. Quickly he would pull his blade upwards in an attempt to severe his leg from his body.

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His breathing was heavy and heart raced. Videk could not believe the imagines he had bore witness too. They all seemed so real, like he could actually reach out and touch the slaves who had tortured him. Like the pain he felt had truly forced him to suffer. That's when he noticed he had lost control of his own decency, and that the Sith found pleasure in seeing him in this susceptable state. He stood, shaking from the fright he had just received, and made his way back to his desk. Still standing, he leaned forward and rest both hands on his desk.

"As... As I said before, our communications... They're down," Videk said as he began to catch his breathe. "But if you think I'm going to co-operate with a man who believes torturing me is his best plan..." Videk hit the switch under his desk, causing the four turrets lining the wall on the far side of the office to descend. Simultaneously, the droid's at his side each erupted a long blade from their right arms, a blade made with a cortosis weave to resist lightsaber attacks. He also drew his own sword that had been tucked in a safe compartment.

"Your mistaken. You Sith may be powerful, and I may die..." The Slave Master began. "But I will not be made a fool of in my own home!" The droid's advanced forward with their weapons at the ready, and the turrets took their aim.

"Let's see how powerful you really are!"
 
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