[SITH MISSION] The Silent

[Viabuck]

---

"I bet I can make them scream.."

These were the unsettling words of the newly promoted Crusader who stood before the massive chapel that was home of 'The Silent'. From what the name indicated, these were likely going to be religious fanatics who didn't make much noise. In truth? That was all of the briefing he had bothered to read. In spite of his desire to please the Empire, there was simply one thing that the giant could -not- do. Reading mission briefings?.. No. Absolutely not. They were just... awful.

That was probably why as soon as their transport landed, Jorath, rather than attempting to figure out a plan on how to isolate their targets and make a proper example instead focused upon a complete and total massacre of an entire chapel of religious devotees along with probably the closest thing in the world that he had to a friend and... a Stormtrooper that he may have seen around a few times and was never all that particularly enthused with. Not that he particularly minded Oran.. But soldiers were just so... Squishy? Untalented?.. He wasn't sure why he disliked them but he really did feel that he could have handled the mission along with Lillieth and been fine with that.

That wasn't in the cards however and there he stood in front of a rather beautiful looking chapel, his arms folded across his newly armored chest, his muscular arms hidden within the rather large sleeves of his traditional Sith Robes which he had actually taken up in the place of his duster since his promotion, intending to dress the part. Paying a glance to his side, he would look over to his two teammates, the hint of a smile tugging upon the corners of his lips. This was something that seldom ever occurred and yet it was one that the female of the team had likely seen before.

Jorath was about to hurt something and it was because of that, he actually seemed to have something of a bounce in his step as they walked along the pathway leading up to the home of the Order of the Silence. He and Lillieth had already taken care of one member of the order and now it was time to really get his hands dirty. The idea of the excitement he was about to partake in was almost than he could bare..

"So. I kick the door down. I announce we're going to murder them all. Then we kill each and every single one of them. Sound like a plan?" he finally asked, his voice sounding almost -giddy-. There was just something about cutting down malcontents and rabble rousers that put him in a special kind of mood and as he stood before two massive stone doors with beautifully etched designs depicting various religious depictions, he was already briefly considering the idea of bringing his lightsaber down across them if only to get the attention of his soon to be victims.

It was funny how the dark side could slowly change a person, especially one who relied upon it as heavily as what Jorath did.. His once dull brown eyes had slowly been shifting toward a much more predatory golden coloration and his blood lust had grown from a simple desire to brutalize to someone who accepted the idea of slaughter of an entire religious order as a boarderline enjoyable activity.. For the sake of the Empire's purposes, someone other than the gigantic crusader had hopefully read the mission briefing.. Otherwise there was going to be a much higher casualty report than what had been intended. Three could very easily become thirty..

 

[Asinine Soup]

Transport door slowly cranes open as the wind of the planet ripples robing and hair alike, a keen eye falling upon a hulk of a Crusader as he displays his rather straightforward thought process. He was a simple man of simple desires, and she'd grown to respect that...in a way - he was, when like this, almost corrigible. Almost. Lillieth projects a gentle half-smile just to demonstrate her tolerance regarding his primitive desires.
"And here I was, thinking you were getting excitable because you were happy to see the sights." Lillieth jokes calmly, neck craning to examine the Trooper that had been assigned to accompany the two Sith...no doubt, tabs would be kept on them, likely from Imperial intelligence.

Not that she cared too much, no - Lillieth's soft eyes study the soldier as he appears to be readying himself as well, finalizing his drop. This was just another job to him, most likely, and she could sense his fair sight of duty, if not a hint of detest for the act they would be committing here today. They would be walking through cauterized, detached limbs and bloody corpses to make an example of a free-thinking faction; but that's the thing - their thoughts differ from the Imperium. For this, they must be punished. Naturally.
A soft sigh escapes the girl's mouth, strange how her free-flowing hair seemed immune to flying in her mouth awkwardly as she soaked in the Trooper's emotions. He kept them suppressed. That was good.

He would need to.

As the transport lands and dust flies into the air in response, Lillieth's boot plants firm on the ground, Jorath's wide stride excitable and leaving Lillieth having to walk with an extra bob in her own step to keep up.
"Or..." she responds to the initial plan. "We can follow our intel, branch into three, and take out one target each." The extended list of details that the three remained (that at least ONE of us didn't seem to read over...) included the three typical locations of where their targets tend to stay.

Aluries. The preacher. Ironic, really. What do they do, stare at each other all day? They're silent, after all.
"Jorath, Aluries has a congregation surrounding him - all faithful followers at something like a mass or something cult-like...religious, you grasp the concept." she explains, still walking, smiling through her strategy. "Long story short...have fun."
She pats the big guy on the arm, but then turns to peer at Oraan, were he to be keeping up.

Noctras. The recluse, silent head with the most influence within the leadership.
"Noctras, as you likely know, tends to stay at the very top of the chapel." By now, during her explanation, the trio likely would have stopped in front of the doors. "You'll likely have luck getting past his guardsmen and slipping into his quarters. Handle it efficiently, dear." She nods, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear...the mass having grown significantly. "Then I guess that leaves..."

Dikaios. The silent influence whose ideal lead to the silent propaganda held against the Imperium. None of these leaders were unskilled within the martial arts, needless to say, having spearheaded an influence that was powerful enough to gain insight from outside worlds and systems.
"...my target. I'll deal with him and his students - I'm sure we all have plenty to talk about."

The irony of her phrase was not foreign to her as she peers up to Jorath, trading glances with him and the Stormtrooper a significant height below her true partner's.
"Is that a good plan?" she asks openly, open to suggestions.

Within the chapel, after the doors were broken down...or opened like a normal entrance, a typical, large room with mats where pews would typically lie would be present with several members of The Silent meditating in front of Jorath's target, whom faced the congregation...kneeling at an elevated alter.

Stairs leading to the soldier's target were due left within the entrance where passages akin to the Vatican lead to the quarters of Noctras.

Lillieth would have to follow Jorath a ways before being able to get to her own target, for off the stage and the alter - due right - was the doorway leading to the training halls where her targets would be encroached.​

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Trooper IR-6240 stepped off the transport just behind Lillieth and Jorath, giving the frame of the ramp a couple solid pats. More out of old Military tradition than to actually let the Pilot know they were safely on the planets surface. Well, safely might not be the most accurate word for what they were. More like... Well... Sod it, they were there alright? Trooper Hill couldnt help but to sigh as he activated his Coms and loaded up his Helmet's HUD. He was wearing the 501st​s Armor and Insignia underneath. He always did like the missions where he got to show out... Made him feel proud to be one of the boys in white. Especially on a day like today.

Now, Orann had no specific love for the sith. In fact, on most occasions he found them to be incredibly annoying pompous pricks. And he really didnt like their penchant for strangling, electrocuting, or cutting down his fellow troopers when they sneezed out of line. That said... Being put on a mission like this? Acting as overwatch and assassination on a Mission with crusaders? It was a sign that he was moving on up in the world. Maybe not quite as much as he wanted, but this was progress. It was definitely progress.

The stormtrooper didnt seem the least bit flustered by Jorath's boisterous attitude or Lillieth's.... Well, being herself. He was cool and calm, focused only on the mission ahead. Usually he would be the one cracking jokes when the opportunity presented itself. But, without his partner there? He was going to have to be careful to make it back home alive. Otherwise, Va'lus would kill him. How? No idea. But he'd manage it.

Even as Lillieth spoke, Orann was bringing up the mission specs on his Heads Up Display. Scrolling through the targets and all the intel they had on the place they would be breaking into. What was it with him and getting the public execution missions. Even so... It gave him an excuse to wear the good stuff. And shoot the good stuff. As if to punctuate that thought, Orann released the maglock holding his personal sidearm in place and began a weapons check, admiring the fresh coat of matte black paint on the titanium alloy. The XM2091 Pulse Rifle. Affectionately called the lawbreaker.

He called her Cheryl.

The Trooper checked the power pack and the ferrofluid reservoirs before resting it on his shoulder, testing the rangefinder and optics. Everything seemed good and tied into his armor's HUD. He really would have to thank Travar for whatever technical wizardry he had pulled to rig the thing up so nicely. Maybe he could bring him back a souvenir. Had to be something nice in a place like this. Satisfied that his rifle would perform to his needs in combat, Orann let the rifle rest. Tilting his helmeted head to regard Lillieth.

"Hmm... I wholeheartedly approve, ma'am. Simple, yet efficient. Once I disable my target, Ill set up to provide overwatch and Intel. Shouldnt take too long. This sort of thing is my speciality."

On that note, Orann dramatically switched on his weapon. The safety disengaging with a slight humming sound. He really couldnt hide the small smirk under his helmet, nor the rush of excitement that went through him every time he went into a live combat zone. This was what he lived for...


"Now then... I believe you wanted the honor of knocking... Sir?"

 

[Viabuck]

One?... Was Lillieth making jokes? What kind of cruel prank did she think she was pulling? The entire way there he had been completely overwhelmed with excitement right up until their arrival.. And now he was being told that he was only supposed to take down -one-? For a moment the Crusader's face would twist into a frown and he briefly considered simply doing as he pleased... But alas.. He couldn't afford to be -quite- as impulsive as what he normally was.. He would behave..

For now.

Listening to the rest of the plans with his arms folding over his rather large chest, he had seemingly gone from positively giddy with excitement Jorath to his much more stoic self that had been his demeanor for the vast majority of his life. As he took in the intel that was provided regarding his target, there was a feeling of relief when it seemed as if he would be getting a few targets to take down instead of just one. People who were devoted to a cause or an idea were ideal targets, at least in the eyes of the Sith. They would put themselves in harms way to protect even doomed individuals, paying little regard for their own safety even going as far as to be maimed to protect those whom they cared for.

Glancing down at his own leg which been heavily scarred due to that very fact, feeling a tinge of pain radiating from the limb that had taken a number of medical droids quite a long period of time to reassemble. The desire to protect really did make people do foolish things at times..

With Lillieth finishing the lay out of their approach, he eventually gave a simply nod of his head, looking to the two massive doors before him, taking that moment to put on a display that he seldom got to perform in recent days. While ordinarily the two towering stone doors were operated by specialized access cards that members of the order carried in order to defend against outsiders simply walking in freely, their size and weight would prove to be a worthy foe for Jorath to test his strength against, his palms pressing flat to their surface as he pressed his own weight up against them for a moment, starting to slowly push, a thunderous creaking sound echoing through the chapel before with a sudden exertion of both physical strength coupled with the force, the two doors were suddenly forced wide open, leaving the Crusader stand in the middle of the room overlooking his new environment.

"Let's go then.." he commented, starting through the chapel, taking note of Lillieth traveling along with him, at least initially. "Be careful." he added prior to their break off, the Warrior of the crew setting up right for the alter, figuring that the one standing at the alter was likely to be the one with the mass of followers.. Judging by the fact that he had a mass of followers with him. Members of the order were already staring at him which was in and of itself not that uncommon... Being a seven foot tall human already tended to get him plenty of that.. But it was almost as if they -knew- he was there for less than peaceful purposes.

If only they knew just how true that would prove to be.

 

[Asinine Soup]

Lillieth lifts an eyebrow, a brisk wind blowing through her robing as a flicker of the wrist brings the hood back atop her head. The ominous nature of her would surely provide fear tactic with what they intended to do. The doors screech open and stagger open, a bright light shining in through the entrance as three silhouettes stand ready to enter. Their shadows cast far along the ground within the inside of the chapel, and the noise of the entrance itself with the uninvited guests caused attention in the large, main room.

"Be careful." he says.
"When are we not?" she retorts in a heartbeat, grinning as her eyes widen ever so slightly. The excitement was catching up with her.

Seems there was more of a congregation than she thought. There were plenty of people for Jorath to potentially mow down before getting to the leader (granted, they would have to not allow this to happen, and if she knew anything about cults and their leaders?...They typically stayed armed with vibroknives for this such occasion), so the redhead knew that - with a bounce in her step and a corresponding bow of her head and hood - the big guy would, indeed, have plenty of fun.

"I'm sure we'll get to hear a scream or two...just like you wanted. A recherche pleasure that I'm certain you don't get enough of." is sent telepathically, the grin audible as well as a telepathic, visual thought being able to be seen.
A room full of cultist corpses.

It's almost as though the cultists nearest to the front of the room where their 'minister' kneels heard the Force-imbued thought, for they acted nearly in kind; standing and moving to form a wall between the guests and their own leaders as though fueled by hive mind.
Their purpose was clear, though she didn't want to take Jorath's joy away by stealing the first kill. She simply extends her mind through the Force, and takes an emotional note of the vibes gathered about her.

Fear was the most prevalent. As expected. Anxiety...second. Excitement?...Almost giddiness.
"We came to have a conversation with your leaders; sorry to interrupt your prayer." Only Lillieth's semi-sinister grin and nose were visible from beneath her veil of a hood, and the irony of her cultivated reason to be here was not lost to her.
"If your leaders 'speak up', we won't have to jump straight to ripping out vocal chords - they're being unused, after all, so I don't mind in the slightest which option is chosen."

Crickets could serenade within the audible response, but as more fear gathers within the room, their future targets nearly bathing in it - especially after what was said - her chin lifts slightly.
Her eyes glow slight amber and tinge with excitement.
"Well if you can't sing, shall we dance?"

And that...was Jorath's cue.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

There was something comforting about working with a sith whose breaching strategy mirrored his partner's so closely. Just push in the doors and see how it goes... Ah, the tried and true method. As the doors opened, Orann shouldered his rifle and peered through the rangefinder. Painting the targets in his hud to provide the count for himself. For later. However, he didnt fire any shots. Merely kept the rifle raised and stepped into the building. Looking around for his route to the upper levels. It didnt take long... Because the stairs leading into the labyrinthine upper levels were directly to one side of the entrance. He didnt insult the Sith with a good luck. Surely they wouldnt need it... Where he would need all the luck he could get.

The trooper cleared his corners and stepped into the stairwell with no hesitation, making his way up carefully. His Armor absorbing the shock from each foot fall. It was like he was wearing nothing at all. Nothing at all. Nothing at all. He picked up the movement almost as soon as he rounded the corner to the top floor. Four guards around a door at the end of the corridor, all wielding ceremonial vibroblades. Yes, because bringing a sword to a gunfight was going to do them any good at all.

Orann quickly ducked back behind the stairwell and reached down, unclipping a flash detonator from his belt and rolling it backwards into the hall. He heard panicked shuffling as the silent guards attempted to shield themselves, then the sound of stumbling and a flash of light in his peripheral vision. Right on cue. Trooper 6240 turned the corner and dropped into a crouch, lining up his shots carefully. Sending four bursts down range in the span of a few seconds. He was rewarded by the high pitched pipping of his rifle firing and the satisfying sound of four bodies dropping lifeless to the ground.

Without breaking his stride, the trooper stood up and walked down the hallway towards the door they had been protecting. "If this isnt the place... Ill eat Thirty Ninety's cooking." He mused to himself as he approached. He tried the door handle but to no avail. Whoever was inside had locked it the moment they heard the commotion outside. Not a problem. Holding his rifle one handed, Orann reached into his belt and produced one of the smaller charges he kept on him. Sticking it to the lock and pressing the activation panel. He quickly backed away from the door and raised his rifle. Ready to fire the moment the door blew open.

"Knock Knock?"

 

[Viabuck]

Taking note of Lillieth's demeanor, he found himself resisting the urge to allow a smile form across his face. In spite of their differences, the two of them shared certain similarities that in moments like the one presently taking place, he really began to appreciate it. He was picking up on the excitement and as she began to speak to the assembled Cultists. He had no idea who he was looking for and the idea of forcing the targets to the forefront by putting their followers lives at risk seemed like an all too promising way to get right to the bottom of things. With Lillieth's threats coming to a conclusion, when the talk of 'Dancing' came up, he figured that would be the signal for him to do 'the thing'.

In this case the thing would be extending his right hand toward the nearest devotee, visualizing a hand wrapping around the man's throat and watching as a look of terror formed upon his victim's face, a desperate grab for his own throat to pry free the invisible limb that threatened to crush his wind pipe. Raising his arm, the terrified Nirvanist would lift up into the air, his feet now beginning to kick as he began to see the very real possibility begin to emerge that his life might be meeting a very abrupt and unpleasant conclusion if the act continued for too long.

"Aluries...?" Jorath questioned, his inquisitive tone making it clear he was asking the man whom he was currently throttling via the force. Noticing what he considered to be a rapid shaking of his head, the Crusader sighed suddenly motioning to the side and flinging the unfortunate man face first into a pillar, likely breaking several bones in his face as well as rendering him unconcious in an instant. Noticing a lot of uncomfortable shifting amongst the crowd, he would notice a few of the followers starting to walk away off to the side only to point his index finger in their direction before wagging it in a taunting manner.

".. Ah.. Ah... Ah... I'm not finished yet... Aluries..?"

Another parishiner was lifted from their feet, terror in their eyes as the gigantic human clenched his fist just a bit tighter, limitingn the flow of air even more. It was at this point several of the cultists would begin to look among one another, a few starting to reach within their garments, likely looking for weapons.. Or perhaps seeking a means to communicate... Either option suited the Sith though in truth? He was personally hoping they'd make the mistake of attacking and not hand over their leadership.. That would make his day just that much more enjoyable.

 

[Asinine Soup]

A childlike giggle resonates about the empty, relatively silent hall. The echoing shake of what seemed to be a short-hand explosive could be felt more than heard, and it was then that she realized Trooper Hill may have found his target. So soon?...Before the fun even began? That's hardly fair.

"You'll watch your followers die one by one to remain hidden?" she speaks up and out, slowly strolling her way toward a nearer member whom kept keen eyes on the ground despite Lillieth being much on the height disadvantage.
Gently, she reaches up to cup his ear, senses attuned not upon him...but the crowd as her act slowly riles their emotional turmoil second only to the level of Jorath's display of the Force. As Sunsinger's fingertips strafe the jawline of the sentient, he gulps hard and loudly. He likely knew that whatever happened next from the beautiful, yet seemingly sociopathic woman wouldn't be good...not at all.

"You're right." she murmurs on cue with his thoughts. His eyes widen.
Did she really just...?
"I did, my dear." she says through a soft chuckle, hand beginning to caress the nape of his neck. He begins shivering. "Do you want to know what else I know?...What else I intend to find out?..."

Her expression goes from nice to naughty in the blink of an eye, pure hatred and detest slapped upon her face, though she continues to grin. The look plastered upon her visage indicated she wouldn't mind ripping this one's throat out exactly as she promised, but it was what she did next that would truly send shivers up the man's spine.
She begins pulling his memories and knowledge right from his dome. The Force as her ally, she pulls the memory of his beloved leader right from his brain cells like a book from a library, and he feels the thought leave him. He knows exactly what she's doing, and the fact that she's able to read minds (in a way) causes his eyes to snap up to a fellow cultist whose position was keenly behind both Jorath and Lillieth alike, arms folded within their long-sleeved robes.
He gave a look that essentially stated, "Do the thing."

What he failed to realize that Lillieth was in his mind. He knew exactly what 'the thing' was and who all was prepared to do it.
Vibroknives, Stilleto blades, and ceremonial sacrificial short-vibroswords were upon each of these individual's person. Relaying the message telepathically to Jorath, she rolls her eyes.

"You're cute." she compliments, and as the figure behind her sulks forward, intending to take her by surprise, her robing flashes and blurs as a booted foot jets out from beneath her, rocketing toward her assailant behind her. He's struck in the gut and heaves over, mass sent barreling backward into the crowd...and in the same, sweet, slick movement, Lillieth reaches up with her previously cloaked hand, a pair of knuckle claws gripped upon each finger.

She punches the cultist in the throat with them. That look of surprise on their face as they know for certain their time is up?...As they begin taking their final heartbeats?...
The moment is to die for. Crimson staining her durasteel hand accessory and a small spout of blood leaking from the neck like a broken pipe, Lillieth slowly gathers her Lightsaber from her hip beneath her outer layer of clothing...the cultist slowly wavering back and forth before falling to the ground with a thud, pool of blood gathering as his last gasps for air are overcome by gurgling.

Lillieth's previous assailant had begun gathering himself, and as she turns to look into his eyes, she begins to giggle...that damned giggle. He was afraid. As was the crowd that surrounded the pair of Sith. But even still, they all in unison unsheath their aforementioned weapons of different lengths and designs, ready to defend their chapel...their church...their leaders with their lives.
For the first time in her experience, Lillieth feels 'hope' and 'chance' and 'unity' in more abundance than fear...

...she was going to enjoy destroying every last drop of the substances, and as the cultists fail to move and present their first attacks?...Lillieth simply lifts her bloody claw up to her mouth and licks the substance from the weapon. The tinge of iron stains her tongue, and a sadistic grin gathers upon her face as she moans lightly at the taste.
"Mmm...hmhmhm...what is it?...Cat got your tongue?"

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The door blew open with considerably less pomp and circumstance than the situation warranted. Just a quick popping explosion and the door rocking backwards on loose hinges. Inside the room stood? A very confused looking Noctras. The older man stood in the middle of his quarters, clutching a blaster in one shakey hand and a knife in the other. The look on his face screamed that he thought there must be a whole division of troopers banging down his door. Was all this ruckas just one man?

"Yep. Just me."

The older man squeezed the trigger on his blaster just a heartbeat before Orann, red bolt shrieking across the void to impact Orann's left pauldron. Luckily... The armor was rated for this. And the majority of the impact was absorbed harmlessly, leaving behind an ugly black scorch mark. Orann's round, however, was considerably more effective. While some would berate him for taking a rifle with superior penetration and reduced stopping power... He had done so with care. After all, it was a capture mission. The ferrofluid plasma bolt lanced across the gap and struck the man's blaster. The heat and force causing the power pack to go off with a bang, burning his hand.

Surprisingly, the older man didnt scream. In hindsight, Orann had to admire that about him. There was no crying. No begging... He merely cradled his burned hand and glared on defiantly. Still brandishing the knife. And while usually Orann would have loved to have played the knife fight game... This was business. And he was only one part of a larger mission. Hesitating only long enough to pick his shots, Orann fired two more times. The first caught the blade of the knife. Reducing it to shrapnel and smoldering slag. The second? Struck the man in the shoulder and spun him to the ground.

Orann was on him before he had the chance to regain his composure, a quick rifle butt to the temple knocking him unconscious. In a practiced motion the Trooper drew his binders from his belt and cuffed the unconscious man to the nearest piece of furniture for later. He gave him a quick patdown for weapons or tech, then checked the area within reach. Nothing.

"Good. Sit... Stay."

The Trooper offered the man a pat on the head, taking note of his rather fancy hat. Huh. Well, that would do just fine. Orann casually snatched the hat and tucked it under one arm. Whistling as he made his way towards the balcony. In a fine mood, considering what came next was his favorite part of the job.

 

[Viabuck]

Choking the life out of religious followers was good and fine but frankly the joy that he could take from it did in fact have a limited span of time that it could hold his interest. Watching Lillieth work her magic, the giant allowed a small grin to form upon his face. While he didn't know everything about the total scope of knowledge that she possessed, he could only assume that mind manipulation of some sort was afoot and when he was given the knowledge that his partner had gathered, he would abruptly throw his hand up sending the man he had been choking moments before high up into the air, soaring high up into the chapel only to land upon the ground with a thud.

With the cultists reaching for their blades, for a moment the Crusader considered drawing his own but opted against it, deciding to actually have a bit of fun with the ensuing chaos.. Lillieth certainly seemed to. Holy Vader on the hood of a Corellian Corvette.. This was... What?.. Where did this come from? It wasn't the first time that he had seen it and yet it never failed to impress how the rational thinker of the pair could go from a poised lady to... whatever the hell he was seeing.

With a spurt of blood landing upon his boot causing the Sith to look down at it for a moment just as a short sword wielding robed man lunged toward him, the Sith didn't even spare his attacker a glance, his arm moving suddenly and seizing the Silent adherent by wrist and jerking it downward, slamming the man down down into the ground and seperating his shoulder in one movement. He was still watching the red head intently, admittedly finding it somewhat hard to look away.

Ninety-five percent of the time Lillieth annoyed the living force out of Jorath but this?.. This was...

"I'm so ha-"

A dagger found it's mark in his side, the sudden surge of pain in his side prompting a stern glare to be paid in the direction of a short pudgy bald man who seemed to realize in that very moment that he had in fact goofed. He had goofed on a level that no human being ever should.. Which was convinient since from what Jorath could tell beneath the hood, his attacker was a Zabrak, albeit an out of shape, religion following one. He had brought a dagger to a lightsaber fight and it was at this point that the Sith decided to introduce his.

Grabbing his lightsaber from his belt, he would toss it up into the air, catching it with the force and levitating it it there at eye level with his attacker, while focusing upon it's crystal which had been attuned to him and with a hiss, a searing hole would materialize right between the Zabrak's eyes before the sound of thud could be heard and the lightsaber returned to Jorath's grasp.

"WOULD ANYONE ELSE LIKE TO INTERRUPT?! I know what you look like you prick! You're outgunned and outclassed! We're not here for your lackies! Step up and I won't kill everyone here!... WHICH I REALLY WANT TO! But I will resist if you step up.. NOW!"

 

[Asinine Soup]

With a soft sigh as every single cultist in the crowd had previously shown that they were, too, ready to give their lives, Lillieth drops her hand as the robing falls over the knuckle knives.
Blood still drips from their warmed steel as the girl who wielded them smudges a bit of blood from the corner of her lips with a tongue.

"Jorath...have fun, dear." she says as though she were the supportive, stay-at-home wife watching her husband go off to a long day at work, bringin' in the bacon.

"Move." she commands, and with a flick of her wrist, an invisible cane of Force sends two Monks flying in opposite directions (albeit not a far distance - only a few feet) to rid them of her stride. One's weapon even clatters to the ground.

Strangely enough, no one dared to touch her as she walked...when she was most vulnerable. So they previously thought, rather. She begins heading toward the stage, hips contorting with each booted footstep as she only dared to continue her part of the mission.
With a turn, she hoped Jorath hadn't start the bloodspill as soon as she turned her back. With a grin, she drops her chin, hood cloaking her eyes and intent, and turns back toward the entrance to the training room. Her target is in there, and soon, he no longer will be.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The walk to the balcony was full of his usual pre game psyche up routine. Namely, whistling his favorite song into his Helmet's filters and double checking the powerpack on his rifle. Making sure it wasnt going to run out mid shot on him. Twenty Six shots... Fair enough. Orann switched his rifle to Semi Automatic and stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the lower levels. And, by extension, overlooking the two sith going on their respective missions. All seemed to be going pretty well so far. And that gave the trooper confidence that this would go much more smoothely than usual.

Or so he hoped. Boy, did he love tempting fate by saying things like that.

Trooper 6240 lifted his rifle to the ready position then, using the scope on top to scan the crowd below. His helmet tracking the visual and identifying probable targets. He was even in range to hear Jorath's little speech about people interrupting him. He was also in prime position to see one of the assembled lackies slowly reaching for something under his vest. However, rather than interrupt the Big Sith's fun, Orann simply clicked on his Comlink and whispered directly to Jorath.

"Third left, second back. Someone's about to start something. Would you like to make an example of him? Or shall I just quietly drop him. The call is yours."

Orann lined the guy's head up in his reticle, finger hovering just along the side of his trigger. If he was ordered to take the shot, odds are... All the other guy would hear would be a little pipping... Then he would drop.

 

[Viabuck]

Standing there eyeing the crowd that had gathered around him, the gigantic Sith continued to look among those gathered who had anything obscuring their face in hopes of finding his target. Giving Lillieth a nod as she departed, he occasionally shot a cruel glare in the direction of those whom were watching their friends dropping like flies among them, trapping them in a terrible situation where they could neither make a run for it nor could they really fight, ultimately they were at the mercy of the giant who had thus far displayed a -very- limited capacity for such things.

Hearing his comlink going off, he paused, listening carefully for a moment then without a further moments notice, he would offer a thumbs up. That was all it took. In an instant, the potential problem was solved, a single shot being issued from the Stormtroopers position, the act bringing a grin to the Sith Warrior's face as in that instant, the crowd around him began to panic, two people even attempting to turn and flee only to suddenly be lifted off of their feet. Having extended both arms forward and clenched his fist the two would be lifted into the air via the force and slammed violently into one another, leaving them to collapse onto the ground in a heap afterward.

Aluries who had been hiding up until that moment under a hood saw this as his opportunity, immediately fleeing while the Sith had his back turned. He knew that if he remained he would inevitably meet his demise and thus it was with this in mind that the congregations leader made an effort to flee, earning the attention of Jorath who would simply let out a deep exhalation of breath, sounding totally exasperated.

".. No conviction at all.. You were really going to let me kill everyone.."

Like the villain from a horror movie, Jorath would create his own moment, concentrating on the area around his future victim's feet, ripping backward with the force, causing the unfortunate man to fall to the ground, his ankle twisting and hampering his mobility. A grin formed upon his face, the teen would slowly stalk toward his target, his pace methodical, almost teasing the victim.

 

[Asinine Soup]

"Dikaios." a mellifluous voice chants into the small combat practice room. It seemed as though the only training that was occurring was some work with shorter-grade Vibroknives. Much to her distaste, all figures in the room lifted their heads as if to respond to the name; luckily, however, Lillieth knew exactly whom her target would be - exactly what he looks like.
"I didn't mean to catch you unawares, dear - " she calls into the room, chin lifted as she scans the crowd of eight students, plus one indicating the teacher was amongst the unlearned. " - but the Empire has caught wind of your Sin."

With that statement, everyone in the room seemed to straighten, the mood shifting from ignorance and confusion to anxiety and foreboding fear. Lillieth simply lifts a half-smile at the emotion.
"Step forward." she commands, but as no one moves, she cants a soft sigh.

It was then that a sharp hiss of blasterfire rings the halls, reverberating wall to wall and causing a few disciples to jump in mild surprise. Sunsinger, however, remains still and eyes her future opposition. "You have committed crimes against the Empire - crimes equivalent to treason. I'm sure you are all aware of the punishment?"

An uncomfortable shift ripples through the small crowd, and as Lillieth nods twice, she elaborates, "Yes. It is severe." She didn't need to say 'death'. Severe punishment spoke for itself. "So I'll give to the count of three for Dikaios to step forth and accept his punishment and I - by my honor - will allow the rest of you to leave this room alive."
Silence, as she expected. Silence and staring eyes, doubtful as bravado begins to build within each and every student. She could likely predict the thoughts ringing through their minds. There's nine of us and one of her - we can take her! We can defend our family and cult.

"One." Not a single soul stirs.
"Two." Lillieth holds up a a pair of fingers as she continues her countdown, receiving nothing other than angered brows at this point.
"Three." Lillieth steps forward, and so do a pair of students, their intent to protect their class. Lillieth simply smiles, cackling quietly. "Aww...isn't that just adorable?"

They rush forward, blades suddenly brandishing as they intended to attack with paralleled uniformity. Their vibroblades activate, emitters humming their deadly song as Lillieth stands still...waiting for them to approach.
She slowly lifts her chin, cloaked face slowly revealing her sadistic smile.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Orann smiled a little as the ferrofluid plasma bored a neat hole in one side of the man's head before detonating inside his skull. Say what you will about the smaller rounds... The nature of their penetration made for a much more dramatic headshot. Some part of the mans mind wondered if there wasnt something horribly wrong with him. What normal person would take pleasure from the nature of another's demise? Perhaps... Perhaps he had just been around the Sith too long. He gave the crowd a quick scan to make sure noone else was going to interfere. Luckily, the rest of the mouth breathers were too shocked by the sudden death of their companion and the flight of their boss to think about rebellion.

"Seems locked down. Im going to check on your Partner."

With that, Orann stepped up onto the railing and measured the distance to the next of the long rafters which held the vaulted ceiling up. Gripping the walls on either side of him, the Trooper leapt out across the void... And landed neatly on the beam. Without losing time, he continued to leap the gaps. Rifle locked to his armor and helmeted head scanning from side to side for an ideal snipers nest. Somewhere he could watch both battlefields. Aha... A Catwalk of sorts ran along between the main building and the building where the female sith had gone to.... Work.

Orann Leapt to the catwalk and hauled himself up, unslinging his rifle and bringing it to bear on the Female Sith's position. Well well well, looked like Jorath wasnt the only sith meeting some resistance to their brand of negotiation. He switched channels to her Comlink and spoke quietly, smirking a little.

"Left."

With that one word, Orann depressed the trigger mechanism of his rifle. A loud pipping sound filling the room and echoing outwards. A split second later, a small hole appeared in the center of the right attacker's forehead. Almost like some sort of caste mark. However... The squelching pop that came from the back of the man's head hinted at something much more sinister. Something that was confirmed as the body hit the ground.

"Your partner has the other target in his grasp. Ill remain on overwatch for you both here..."

 

[Viabuck]

With the ease at which the situation was unfolding in what could potentially be called a perfect manner, Jorath almost felt guilty for what he was doing. There was a terrified, hobbled man attempting to escape from a situation from which there was no true escape. His followers were powerless to protect him, his prayers for deliverance would go unanswered and someone who might be able to be considered a devil of sorts was right behind him, a red lightsaber active and being drug carelessly along behind him, the blade burning the once pristine floor, leaving a trail behind the enormous Sith.

"By the authority of the Empire, you, Aluries, have been sentenced to death for sewing the seeds of discord within the Sith Imperium. Your misdeeds will no longer go unpunished. By my hand I will carry out justice and your life will cease." the gigantic Sith recited, intent on making the public execution really carry the point home to the others who he was -determined- not to have to kill. He had already exceeded his mandate, sending a message to a bunch of corpses wasn't going to impress anyone...

With the terrified clergyman now raising to his feet and attempting to hop away on a single foot, finding his staggering and crawling to be ineffective, Jorath made a clicking sound with his teeth and rolled his eyes. This was just getting to be somewhat ridiculous when he got right to the core of it. How devoted could these people really be? He couldn't imagine being this overwhelmed and still feebly trying to survive.. It was just... embarassing. He felt embarassment for his target and that alone was enough to further irritate him.

"Stop.." he stated plainly, motioning his hand off to the side before casting it inward, a pew actually lifting up and smashing into the man's right side, sending him toppling over and leaving him pinned beneath it. Continuing to advance upon his now stationary target, he would draw up his lightsaber, shooting a glance over to the side to the terrified individuals who continued to look onward, preparing to lose one of their leadership in the coming minutes.

".. Any last words?"

 

[Asinine Soup]

A blur of red clashes with a ceremonial vibroblade, the latter continuing forward as it was the former's intent to be deflected...to use the enemy's movement and force against it. Sparks splash within the air as the smell of burning flesh accompanies the individual whom is dropped to her right; Lillieth mentally notes the man's voice in her ear before finishing off the first assailant. He was slow, but strong - unfortunately, it's not the best combination versus a trained opponent such as she. The vibroblade is facing the floor as the lightsaber combs back for a vertical guard, the assailant's follow-up falling short...the blade and the hand that held the blade emitting a hiss as both fall to the ground together.

Cho Mai. A look of agony and surprise riddles his face - had he really just lost an appendage?...The xenophobic group seemed startled by the ground, and Lillieth - even more confident with her backup behind her - steps forward as she kicks the young one in the jaw, sending him sprawling along the floor beside his dead clanmate.
"One by one or all at a time - either or, I will have my wish. What say you?..." She pauses, frowning. "Ah, that's right. You say nothing. Nothing at all."

It was a slight delight seeing the others react in kind, three rushing forward, all below their paygrade. Middle blade slashes vertically, left blade comes horizontally a fraction of a second slower. With a simple strafe to the right, Lillieth dissects the middle assailant's head from his body in a blur of crimson light, a slight gasp ringing through the room as those whom beheld the sight had seen yet another brother fall...separately...into two pieces. A kick into the air and a slight 180 degree spin sends Lillieth's boot sole into the right attacker's throat (she sure had some vertical ability!) before he could even respond, and the left - as he struggled to strafe around his fallen middleman, flanks Lillieth's backside.
*Gack!* the one kicked in the neck responds, choking on the force as he's left stumbling backward. The Sith cares little about him as he recovers, potentially, for there was a vibroblade coming down strong atop her head. She doesn't even flinch, only steps forward and impales the attacker in the sternum, center-chest. The blade never got the chance to finish it's swipe, arms still held high as a visage filled with pain and surprise is soaked within Lillieth's gaze. She chortles lightly, hood still up as she rips the lightsaber from her victims chest, his life being taken with its extraction.

Turning again, with a simple flick of the arm, the last, stumbling victim is sent on his back as Lillieth amputates his leg at the knee with a simple, guided strike. She didn't even look his direction, only walking past him. He groans as his blade rolls from his hand, still choking on the force that impacted with his Adam's apple.

Three more individuals stand at their guard, all seeming to be in front of an elder looking individual.
"Ah...and there you are." Lillieth coos, flipping her blade absent-mindedly as it swirls about vertically in a loop.
"Trooper Orann." she states firmly. "Eliminate these three in front of Dikaios, please. They're in my way."

Her lightsaber remains humming, brilliantly shining its red that matched the blood it has spilled upon the ground, waiting for its next meal. The trio's eyes widen as they all peer up to the trooper in the skyline at the same time, second guessing not only his aim and lethality...but his will to take their lives as well. Was she bluffing?

"Hmhmhm." She only chuckles, as they wouldn't likely get the chance to find out. Unless the trio's leader would step forward to give himself up, Lillieth would not regret giving the order.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The hesitation between command and execution was less than the time it took to blink twice. Just long enough for trooper Hill to line the first of the targets up in his sights. He flicked the rifle over to burst fire and let fly with the first shots. Two plasma pulses, coccooned around hot ferrofluid, struck center of body mass on the first target. While all would hear the pinging pip of the weapon going off, the effect wouldnt be as immedietly dramatically visible as with the headshot earlier. Because the projectiles lost cohesion a short distance inside the target, they penetrated quietly with very little entry wound. However... The real damage was inside. Ferrofluid bursting and ruining internal organs.

The first guard clutched at his chest and fell over, blood welling up as he tried to scream soundlessly. The other two had just enough time to step back before they too shared in their companion's fate. Leaving three twitching corpses on the ground, gasping for air. On the fast track to the next life.

"Of course, Ma'am. Will there be anything else before I check on your partner's progress?"

Orann kept the leader's face in his scope, finger off the trigger. He was just checking on the man. Making sure he was good and frightened. After all... Half of his job as a trooper was to bring the proper effect on his enemies.

"Oh. By the By. I took the liberty of handwrapping Noctras for you. He's currently laying unconscious stun cuffed to his desk. I thought you might enjoy interrogating him before you executed him."

 

[Viabuck]

Standing over the terrified man, the recently shot Sith Warrior would spin his lightsaber within his grasp, staring down to his terrified victim, the moment he had been seeking finally coming to pass when without a moments notice, the nagging sensation of the force would tug at the back of his mind. Turning, lightsaber flared to life, the blade of his weapon would come into contact rather violently with a vibroblade being wielded by a rather large youth. Standing the better part of six feet tall and appearing to have a fair amount of muscle to him, this boy was clearly the Silence's answer to Jorath.. And unfortunately for them, it would prove to be a remarkably inferior response.

Staring his new opponent right in the eyes, the massive Sith would hold his lightsaber firm, looking away to the man whom he had been preparing to execute, a grin forming across his face. If the Empire was to make examples, he was going to make one HELL of an example.. An example that these cultists would have to live with for some time to come.. An example that came in the form of two simply hand gestures. With the force siezing hold of Aluries, he would push off with his lightsaber, elevating his leg and kicking the teen in the midsection, sending him stumbling backward and with another thrust of his palm..

Scccliikkk....

Flesh sliding over blade could be heard, one of the leaders of the Silence finding themselves upon one of their followers weapons.. A follower who had intended to stop the Sith from carrying out his mission, saving the life of an important member of the group. It was certainly a noble goal, one that Jorath would never deny but that hadn't stopped him from taking that goal and turning it around, crushing the hopes and dreams of those watching in one simply display of overwhelming force. Looking on as the dying man gasped for breath, his lungs having been pentrated, he would notice the look of pure horror and revulsion upon his attackers face. He could only imagine what was being thought of in that moment and it honestly made him almost want to laugh in that instance.

His goal had been completed and now it came down to how would the crowd react? There was a lot of stunned silence, he could have sworn he heard sobbing.. But what would happen next?..

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a spoiled little princess type to take on vacation. She's the red head I'm with, yes I know, you're all probably eunuchs or have taken vows of celebacy or something like that but honestly? I don't even care about that.. You need to focus. Some of you may think of attacking me.. Or her.. Or hey, even that Stormtrooper we're with. But let me advise you against that. If any of you even THINK of attacking me.. I will remove -one- kidney with my lightsaber and force feed you anything I remove.. I am not bluffing.. If any of you even make a hostile move.. You will regret it for the rest of your days... You have -no- idea how in need of a break I am.. This was a punishment from the Empire. Learn from it and move on.." Jorath warned, the normally short spoken Sith growing disturbingly serious in that instant to the point that not even in their anger would the cultists question the legitimacy of his statement. Not even the horrified boy who was now cradling the fallen leader who had expired seconds earlier.

Without another word, Jorath set off to find Lillieth, a smug look upon his face as he did so.

 

[Asinine Soup]

*Pop*
*Pop*

With the choking, gargling murmurs of agony trickling to nothingness in the corpse-filled room - albeit two students still alive, one having gotten a hand severed, and the other a leg - the leader slowly drags out his own vibroblade. He seemed to understand that his cult was dying, and that he was next of the three leaders present. With a stern glimpse, he activates the micro-emitter and whirls the weapon to a stance unknown to the Sith progressing upon him.
"Your fellow leadership is captured and-or dead, sweetie - why do you continue to agonize yourself? To prolong the inevitable?" Lillieth sings, her own lightsaber burning its orchestrated hum forward along her face, then swirls it down to her right side: the Makashi salute.

"This one's mine, Trooper - feel free to venture elsewhere. I'm sure our package you kindly tied up for us should find a comfortable seat in the brig." Lillith micromanages, sizing her larger opponent up. By now, he had to realize that size meant absolutely nothing. Two blades flash brilliantly within the room, sparks flaring from the connecting shafts of energy; Lillieth's robing flurries and the cultist's training attire - a one-piece - shows his muscular frame, impressive for such an aged individual.
Two strikes...three strikes collide, a penultimate to the two's contact sending them away from each other...only to come back for another taste. They collide, blades held in a lock as the vibroblade's leverage was near the base of Lillieth's lightsaber, making her job easier...in a way.
She's not weak, and he notices as she smiles up to him, grunting to return the pressure upward.

Within a singular, swift movement, Lillieth's blade goes from clashing at the base to clashing at the tip, sending her opponent's weapon down...along with his balance. As his weight shifts forward, Lillieth's weapon arcs in a whirl and simply kisses the edge of her weapon upon his knee, sending a balance-disrupting jut of pain through the Sith's opponent's body.
Although it was a simple tap, it's still a lightsaber - his knee is now useless, and as both combatants figure this out in the same instance, Lillieth simply tosses her chin upward and laughs.
"And I was just getting warmed up..." she murmurs, a blue spark of energy beginning to accrue within her palm, fingertips bent inward ominously. Her target grunts in frustration and swings his weapon wildly forth, and the red-headed Sith simply nods out of the way, allowing the Force to build within her palm.

She clicks her tongue a trio of times - tsk, tsk, tsk - as she nearly dances around her opponent, a broiling hatred beginning to assimilate as the blaster wound on her shoulder from a bout with a...friend of his on Kashyyyk begins to burn.
She was going to enjoy this.