This thread is for the archival of all report fictions related to Clan Plagueis. This includes Consul, Proconsul, Rollmaster, House, and Battle team reports. Over time, the grand saga of our clan will be revealed (albeit with a few tangents, I’m sure)!
At times, extended periods of fictional development (during vendettas, for example) will be grouped in another topic and linked here for reference.
BAC Harrower
Command Bridge
Orbiting the Anchorage
2310 Hours
Stepping onto the deck plating of the Harrower, Teylas Ramar’s boots snapped one after another as his cloak dragged behind them. On the far side of the command deck he could see the assemblage of Karness Muur’s Dark Jedi. Some of them he recognized, some of them he did not; inevitably, though, he’d expect them to come to recognize him. In fact, for some time Teylas had been contemplating stepping out of the shadows, to become his true self, and to discontinue his secretive ways. With his Dark Jedi training behind him and his accumulation of power growing, even more so than ever before in certain aspects, he was finding it less and less concerning about whether others in the galaxy were aware of his true nature as an Anzat.
Losing himself in the incredibly busy command center of the Harrower, as Teylas was accustomed to doing, he watched from afar as the Dark Jedi interacted with the ships crew. It was a busy time, using their return to home port as a chance to resupply, repair and recrew the naval forces of Karness Muur. As Teylas was able to get glances in between the constantly moving repair crews, he noticed that three naval officers were standing with two Dark Jedi: one he recognized as Aabsdu Dupar, a man he had very little interaction with, and Dralin Fortea, who Teylas only knew by reputation of his own former master.
The two seemed apt to take over the daily operations of the battleteam while the change of command was going on, and the second-in-command was still recovering from the devastating attack on the Predominant.
Finally, after a few moments of observation of the interaction between the ships crew and the Dark Jedi, some just standing around awaiting the arrival of the new leader they were told would be coming, Teylas stepped forward. In the only way he knew how to finally shed the shadow of his oppression in the universe for two centuries, the secret only a handful of people at any given time knew, he grabbed the higher ranking naval officer, a commander, by the neck. Drawing him in closer with a strong telepathic link that the officer had no chance of fighting, two skin pouches slightly opened allowing each to extend a tentacle-like proboscis towards the face of the officer. Suddenly, as the two were face to face, the two tentacles smashed into the officers nostrils causing a crushing sound as they pushed past the bone and into the brain.
As Teylas fed on the soup of the man whose head he was holding in his right hand, keeping him from falling to the ground, he could sense the feelings of the other Dark Jedi and officers around them as they all stopped to watch. Most of them were in utter shock, horror and even disgust at what was going on. Teylas, taking part in a natural process for his kind, could only feel vindicated in that moment against how the galaxy saw his species. As he was finished, the tentacles returned to their pouches leaving him indistinguishable from the countless other Humans in the galaxy.
“I am Teylas Ramar,” he finally spoke as he turned to the Dark Jedi, “I will be serving as the Right Wing of Dread, commander of Karness Muur and the Harrower. And yes, I am Anzati, the center of stories that many of you heard as children to keep you up at night. We are no myth, however we are not feral monsters either. But, I will lead Karness Muur to many victories which will give us a reputation as ruthless, but victories none the less.”
NSD Preeminence
Hyperspace, En Route to Bosthirda
For a reason that was still unexplained to this day, Kz’set felt a pull to be on the bridge, or somewhere else where he could see out, when a ship was in hyperspace. Something about the mystery and beauty of it all seemed to calm the mind of the Verpine. There was a lot for hir to think about lately. Hir transition from overseer to Vassal of Karness Muur, the attack that claimed the Predominant, and the upcoming operation on Bosthrida were of the most immediate concern. S/he had to remain focused if they were going to succeed, and gazing out into hyperspace was helping Kz’set maintain that focus.
“Am I disturbing you m’lord?” It was the voice of Callus Bo’Amar that broke hir near trance.
“No.” Kz’set replied. “Hyperspace lets me center my thoughtszzz. What do you require?”
Kz’set didn’t really know much about Callus, but he seemed to have the confidence of the Dread Lord, which seemed to count for something. Still, he seemed competent and Kz’set valued that. The same was true for Zednich, a recent addition to Plagueis who more than proved his meddle on Ziost. The only member of his leadership he had any concern for was the Chiss given his recent loss of the Predominant. Hopefully it was as he said and it was unavoidable and not a sign of incompetence.
“A hypercomm message came in for you. Your presence is required aboard the Transcendence as soon as we exit hyperspace.” Callus answered. “No specifics were given aside from it mentioning to ‘come prepared’.”
Kz’set nodded while still staring out the windows. “I think we both know what that means. Are our strike teams assembled?”
“Yes, they are.” Callus replied. “And before you ask, I’ll be keeping a close eye on the Chiss.”
Kz’set chirped in approval. “Good.”
NSD Ascendancy
Command Bridge
It was the late hours of the night on the bridge of the Ascendancy. There, Teylas stood firm watching out the main viewport when the comm panel to his side came to life with lights and sounds. Reaching over he pressed a command sequence forcing the entire holoprojector come to life flickering it’s bright blue light in all directions of the dimly lit command center.
“What is the situation?” Teylas Ramar asked of the hologram, his Aedile, Furios Morega.
“It looks like the Verpine’s intelligence paid off. We were able to destroy two One Sith warships and we’re rounding up escape pods now. What would you like done with the survivors?” Furios asked of his superior.
“Bring the officers back to the Ascendancy for Selika to interrogate, kill anyone else who resists, and throw the rest in the slave pits. Try and salvage any droids that we can put to use, as well. What were our losses?” the Anzat wondered.
The hologram flickered slightly as Furios responded, “None, sir. We took them completely off guard. They definitely weren’t expecting us to hit them. How were you able to get that intelligence from Kz’set anyways?”
Teylas smirked, “Let’s just say that Kz’set and I have come to sort of a mutual… friendship… of sorts. We’ve been trading quite a few favors lately. I suppose I owe him one now.”
“Very good. We will be returning to your position shortly afterwards. Shall I report in to the Dread Lord?” Furios asked.
“No, I will do that in the morning. Good work, Furios. Report to me when you return,” Teylas nodded as he deactivated the holoprojector. Having heard a familiar footstep creep up on him, he turned his head slightly. “What can I do for you?”
Selika had been listening in to some of the conversation from the far end of the bridge. She stepped forward next to Teylas, “It appears as though I will busy when Furios returns.”
“I expect resistance from the officers.”
“I prefer it.”
The Anchorage
Transport Hangar
The ghastly space station loomed, slowly spinning in the darkness of the Esstran Sector. The bulk of the Ascendant fleet was attached to its docking bays, resting while repair crews and droids swarmed along their hulls like army ants swarming a larger insect. At the same time, new prisoners from the conflict on Bosthirda were being transported via shuttle from the capital ships to the mental stripping and conditioning centers to be processed as slaves for the Ascendant forces. Flanked by their former comrades the prisoners shuffled down the shuttle ramps into the spacious hangar. Their guards, One Sith soldiers turned by the Plagueian enslavement programs, were equipped only with stun weapons, meant to transport as many living prisoners as they could. Most of these captured men and women accepted their new fate, having been beaten on the surface of Bosthirda, there was no hope for escape. But not all were entirely resigned. One of the stronger men near the front burst from the ranks, knocking over the nearest guard, and bolted for the nearest doorway. Two others saw this as an opportunity and followed suit, sprinting as fast as desperation could take them. The electronic sensors opened the door, indiscriminate of the difference between prisoners and Ascendant forces, but what was on the other side caused the escapees to halt in their tracks.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The first of the group raised cuffed hands to defend himself but was too slow. The taller of the two Dark Jedi in front of him quickly step forward and punched him in the stomach. The force of the blow lifted the desperate man off the ground for a second, followed by a crackling bolt of electricity from the same fist to ensure his incapacitation. The body went limp and as it hit dropped, the prisoner vomited on the polished hangar floor. The second Plagueian lifted the other two prisoners with the Force and bashed them against the ground. A few of the guards caught up to the failed escape attempt and proceeded to bludgeon them into submission with stun batons.
“Where do any of you think you can go at this point?” Furios Morega yelled for the rest of the prisoners, stepping around the beating taking place. “Your lives were forfeit as soon as you set foot on Bosthirda.”
“Abandon what misguided hope you may have left,” Callus Bo’Amar continued. “You can never escape. This is a place of nightmares!” The two Aediles barked orders, separating the new “recruits” by their Houses, directing them to their new lives.
The Anchorage
Karness Muur Operations Center
When Kz’set was deep in thought about something, s/he had a habit of staring blankly into the distance. It wasn’t meditation per se, but whatever information hir eyes was feeding into hir brain was entirely irrelevant. Other things were working through the synapses that were far more important. Things had hir far more preoccupied, recent events involving a short lived attempt by recent captives to escape. It was something that reminded hir of something s/he hadn’t thought about in awhile. Something s/he had tried to either bury or find ways to gain strength from.
It wasn’t that long ago that the Verpine was much like them.
S/he knew what was going through their minds then and what was going through them now… Desperation, pain, the desire to ignore reason in any attempt to escape their fate. True, s/he’d escaped that life, the Dark Side saw to that. The Force had freed hir, just as the Sith Code said. But not all had that chance, most would be forced to endure the pain forever. To serve as others saw fit until they died, were killed, or somehow escaped. It’s a life that he was forcing others to endure despite enduring it himself. Why wasn’t the question, this was the way of the galaxy. The weak serve the strong.
The real question is why was this troubling hir?
Operations Room
KSD Transcendent
In Orbit Around Begeren
Admiral Cyvaria Ranin watched the Transdoshan closely, though her gaze was elsewhere. She did not trust the lizard on her ship, much less as a so-called ally of Plagueis, but the decision was not hers. She had survived this long by knowing her place. That place was one of power over many, yet submission to a select few.
The man directing Tress’kar’s, leader of the Saraask’ar slavers guild, attention along a holographic map of the planet they orbited was a member of that small group. Dark Side Adept Aabsdu Dupar, recently returned from unknown journeys. She had never heard of him before his appearance during the Ziost assault, yet now he was the Dread Lord, her commanding officer. Ranin had liked Dread Lord Montresor, respected him, trusted him. This man was an enigma at a time when cadets in the halls still whispered of the traitor who destroyed the Predominant.
Aabsdu was, however, a delegator. He trusted those under him to get the job done and allowed Ranin to lead the Ascendent Fleet as she knew best. Things worked well that way.
“My forces are making good time with our recent acquisitions from the Crusade,” spoke General Ranthe Benzayn. The Devaronion also stood next to the Dread Lord, pointing out various parts of the map to Dupar and the Transdoshan.
“Make sssssure to leave sssssome for the marketssssss,” Tress’kar responded. The lizard trusted them as little as she did him, but a smart slaver knew a good contract when he saw one and Clan Plagueis was in need of manpower.
“You’ve yet to deliver on our last payment,” Dupar spoke, his voice firm but pleasant, “My predecessor’s contracts remain standing.”
Tress’kar pulled back, his tongue flicking past his lips as he answered, “They will be fulfilled.”
“They will,” Aabsdu stepped back and motioned toward the door, “General Benzayn will notify you when your forces are able to drop down for fresh supplies.”
The Dread Lord turned to Ranin, “Admiral, I must confer with my Wings planet-side. Maintain our status up here.”
“Yes, my Lord,” she answered.
“Notify me should anyone decide to start attacking.”
Executive Offices
KSD Transcendent
In Orbit Around Begeren
Aabsdu Dupar sat at his desk, listening to the small holographic projection of Tra’an di Plagia Reith before him as the recently elevated former Quaestor updated him on Plagueis’ advances and failures in the Brotherhood conquest of Begeren. Newly drafted Proconsul Koth Rai’Hakk sat opposite the Consul, keen not to overstep his young role in the clan.
Clan Plagueis was fighting admirably on Begeren, defeating many One Sith and Brotherhood foes as they scavenged for relics. Many of these hidden treasures would find themselves en route to the Grand Master, but Aabsdu had already selected a handful to remain in his possession. Yet there were losses as well; Plagueians struck down because of fatigue and weariness. The Crusade’s end goal, the capture of Korriban from the One Sith, seemed closer than ever yet increasingly out of reach. Aabsdu’s optimism was strengthened from his conversations with the Dark Council, but his members were not privy to such information.
“…and the Southern Ridge is all but gone, my Lord. Quaestor Ramar removed his forces to the east,” Tra’an finished. Aabsdu was silent, thinking, considering his options both for Plagueis and the ever fragile Brotherhood.
“If I may proffer an opinion,” Koth spoke up. Aabsdu nodded his consent and the man continued, “Death, destruction, these are glorious achievements in the short term, but endless carnage proves tiresome, troublesome. We sack planets yet do not own them, nor do we want to.”
“This is true,” Tra’an interjected, “Our exile from Kapsina was a heavy one, but when we discovered the Anchorage we saw the benefits of consolidation.”
“We are in agreement,” Aabsdu said, “but we also must sustain ourselves. The Grand Master has little use for houses and clans unable to protect themselves, feed themselves, arm themselves.”
Tra’an continued, “Homeless and adrift, cut off from the Brotherhood, we turned to the teachings of Darth Plagueis and his machinations of control from the shadows.”
“One doesn’t need a planet to run an empire,” Koth concluded.
Aabsdu smiled. He smiled at the wisdom of his clansmen, at the cunning of the di Plagia and the experience of his summit. He also smiled because he was thinking, pondering his options for the clan and…only the clan. Plagueis had served at the Council’s behest for well over a year. The time had come for it to stake its own claims across the galaxy.
“Continue your advances planetside, Master Reith,” he finally said, “Send word for Quaestors Ramar and Kz’set to return to the Transcendent.”
The hologram of Tra’an bowed and disappeared as the Dark Adept turned to his Proconsul, his smile becoming a grin, “Our people demand conquest. Not only conquest. Control. Let’s see which of them wants it more.”