[center]~| Two Weeks prior to the Sacking of Coruscant |~
~| Darth Nyiss' Complex, Korriban |~[/center]

The room was dark, lit only through a series of small light panels high upon the pillars framing the room. At the chamber's center, one could see a massive holographic terminal, upon which observers could see a robed and hooded individual. His face was not readily visible, but one could see that there was a face. The hologram depicted no clear colors, but it could be presumed that his robes were dark and his skin held some sort of color. Before the hologram, a similarly robed but clearly feminine figure could be seen kneeling, head bowed.

“Darth Nyiss.” he said with a deep, gravelly voice.

“In two standard weeks, you and all ships you have available will be put at the disposal of Darth Malgus and Darth Angral.” He clearly brooked no question, which was fair evidence of just how confident he was, considering the fact of whom he was speaking to. “Our combined fleet will strike Coruscant. We will wreak destruction upon them as they once did upon us. The Jedi Temple itself shall fall and the Republic shall soon follow. The Empire will be ascendant. . . At last, revenge will be ours.” Just a hint of sinister eagerness could be heard across the hologram as the man spoke of revenge.

Though Darth Nyiss displayed no reaction to the man on the other side of the hologram, she felt anticipation and a vicious eagerness. A victorious end to this war was truly an excellent thing for all the peoples of the Empire.

“Your many agents in the heart of the Republic will pave the way. Aid your fellows in this grand endeavour, but do not allow a single shred of information to slip through your fingers. You will answer to the Emperor personally if you fail.”

“My Lord.” Darth Nyiss spoke, her voice a rich soprano. Her head remained bowed, her eyes still to the floor, but it was obvious from her tone that she wanted to request something.

“What is it?” The hologram replied neutrally.

“If it pleases the Emperor, this is a most excellent oppurtunity for me to continue my plan. If I may be permitted to capture a number of Jedi alive before the Temple is destroyed, it would accelerate my experiments considerably.” The Darth spoke with just the right amount of deference to her superior, hating every syllable for it. For a moment, the man did not respond. When he did, Darth Nyiss’ heart almost skipped a beat.

“Very well. Accommodations will be made for your endeavour.”

With that, the hologram flickered off and Darth Nyiss rose, her long robes settling about her graceful form. She resisted the desire to celebrate openly, instead allowing a the edges of her mouth to slowly curl into sinister smile.


[center]~| The Sacking of Coruscant |~
~| Day 1, 11:32:17 GST |~[/center]

One moment, the skies above Coruscant were mostly empty. A few ships moving in to take off, others moving to land. To the majority of its countless citizens, nothing unusual was happening. The violent altercations within the Jedi Temple not yet apparent even to most of those with clear view.

The next moment, scores of imperial Terminus-class destroyers and more than a dozen Harrower-class dreadnoughts jumped out of hyperspace. From each ship, countless fighters and bombers emerged, much like Killiks from emerge from their hives when threatened. Within minutes, every single holonet satellite in orbit above Coruscant had been destroyed, even as the ships dropped down towards the planet's surface, starting their bombardment.

What few ships were in orbit were quickly decimated, even as they watched in shock at the Coruscanti defense grid not doing anything.


[center]~| The Jedi Temple |~
~| Day 1, 11:46 GST |~[/center]

Jedi Knight Na'vena Akkani lay with her back against one of the pillars of the grand entry hall of the Jedi temple, her lightsaber lying inactive on the floor less than a meter from her hand. Even if it had been in reach, it would have been pointless. Right beside the lightsaber lay her left lekku, severed by a Sith lightsaber. She could already feel her life slipping away, all due to the gaping hole in her abdomen, a gift from another Sith warrior.

Not even the mercy of a clean death did they offer her. She could only watch as the Sith defeated the last of her fellow Temple Guards. They had fought hard, but they simply had not been strong enough. She had still been up and fighting when she saw the Sith leader, the dreaded Darth Malgus, cut Master Zallow down. Had she been his padawan, she would no doubt have given in to the rage always so close, but she was not, so she managed, barely, to resist.

In the end it had all been futile though. She thought they had killed a score or so Sith, but it wasn’t easy to tell from where she lay. That was the final pleasure she could take from it all, that they had not fought poorly. Through the gaping hole in the outer wall, she could hear, and vaguely see, the destruction being wreaked upon her home. It made her sad, but she could not accurately show it. Her head hurt too much, the cauterized end where her lekku had been attached leaving her in constant agony.

It was at that point she saw three imperial shuttles landing before the temple, their profiles unmistakeable. A minute later, she could see a column of imperial troopers marching in, their black armor so polished that it would almost have fit into the temple before the destruction, except for the foul Sith symbols staining their otherwise pristine surfaces. Then there were the Sith moving alongside the column. She vaguely recognized some Red Sith, a few humans and several other species among them. The very air surrounding them oozed with the filthiness of the Dark Side. At least one of those held massive power at his or her disposal. On some deep level, she was thankful she did not have to fight that particular Sith.

Na’Vena started wondering what the Sith were planning to do. Just out of the corner of her eye, she saw a padawan trying to sneak up. She wanted to scream at the padawan, but knew she could not, as that would only warn the Sith. When she tried to lift her arm to signal the padawan to flee, she found herself unable to do so. Then she looked more closely at the troopers who all just entered. It hadn’t made sense to send troops in if they wanted to destroy the temple. It was then she spotted the stun weaponry they had in addition to their blaster rifles. Blood fled her face upon realizing that the Sith were taking the padawans captive. Her mind still fuzzy, she didn’t know for sure what was worse… Their defeat or the fact that the padawans would almost certainly be turned to the Dark Side, turned into Sith. After a few moments, she decided it was most certainly the latter. She hated herself for not dying like the others yet being unable to fight more.

---

Darth Nyiss stepped lightly off the shuttle, leading a procession of Sith, some loyal to her, some following her to leach off her influence, others still eager to learn her secrets in the name of personal power. Before her, the Jedi Temple was in the process of being ransacked by Darth Malgus’ hand picked Sith warriors. Her lightsaber was in hand, though unignited. This entire assault had been largely unnecessary, they could have simply blasted the Temple from low orbit, but merely destroying it was not the point. They were here, now, to show the Jedi just how completely they had failed. Not only would the Temple be destroyed, but Jedi morale would be crushed. The Republic would lose faith in them. Darth Nyiss understood this, but for her, this assault had different meaning. To Darth Nyiss, this was an opportunity. She would capture a great many young, vulnerable Jedi here, some of whom may prove suitable to fuel her experiments. The rest would be turned to the Dark Side, a final insult added to the grievous injury suffered by the Jedi order.

She took a breath of smoke filled air, her lungs burning with the results of the assault on the Temple. The fear from inside was palpable as she entered her enemies most sacred stronghold, daintily stepping around a dying Twi-lek. As she entered, her followers would split off and search the temple for young, malleable Jedi. She had a specific target in mind to visit first.

As she began to make her way towards Tolun Fi’s lab, a Jedi Padawan, she could tell by the braid, stepped around the corner, Lightsaber in hand. Darth Nyiss calmly raised her free hand and airily motioned towards the Padawan, blasting them back into a wall with the Force. The Padawan's Lightsaber dropped to the ground then, jarred from their grip by the force of the impact. The Darth walked leisurely towards the helpless Jedi, pinning it in place with the Force, savoring the fear as went. When she reached the Jedi, she raised her free hand once more, lightly touching the Jedi’s cheek, channeling fear through the Force as she did so. It only took a moment for the Jedi to become paralysed with fear. [i]Disappointing.[/i] She thought. [i]How easily they break[/i].

She moved on then, letting her troopers drug and carry the Padawan back to the ship. Tolun’s lab awaited, and with luck she would find the Kaminoan scientist before anyone else did anything unfortunate to him.

[center]~| Day 1, 12:02 GST |~
~| The Kaggath |~[/center]

Though it was far from empty, the ship felt much emptier. Lea moved around in the prison complex, fidgeting a little. She was stuck there, with guards below all the turbolifts. Through the Force, she could feel that something was happening on the planet below, but it was hard to say exactly what, or for that matter where she was. The only thankful thing right now was the complete lack of torture.

Ever since her capture those eight standard weeks earlier, she had experienced torture. Sometimes at the hands of Imperial Intelligence, asking her about things she didn’t know about, other times at the hands of Darth Nyiss. She no longer knew which was worst. With the agents, the pain was constant, the torture never changing much. With the Darth, the pain was worse, but at least she did not demand answers she knew Lea couldn’t provide.

The prison complex was strangely large. Earlier she’d been kept in a much smaller cell, so she wasn’t really all that familiar with this place. The entire complex consisted of five roughly hexagonal rooms. Two rooms with twelve beds and a large table and one with sanitary facilities the last two chambers was an empty room in the center and a sort of medical facility, which included an [i]empty[/i] kolto tank. Was that meant as a joke? She wasn’t entirely sure about the purpose of this facility, but it was pretty clear the Sith intended to house many prisoners. But the strangest part of it all, the one she had not yet gotten used to, was the floor. the floor of the facility was transparent. Aside from the central chamber, the transparisteel was tinged with red, but still easy to see through. “Typical Sith...” she muttered when thinking about the choice of red transparisteel.

Below the floor was some sort of arena. Or at least she thought that was it. It was empty for now, but had all the hallmarks of one. Not the vast ones said to be on Geonosis, but not a tiny one either. Even if she could have cut through the floor, which she couldn’t, having lost her lightsaber to the Sith back when she was captured, she did not think it would be wise to jump down. Even the Force could only reduce the effects of physics so much. It would be rather sad to manage to cut through the thick floor, only to break a leg on landing below. Wouldn’t be much of an escape. Best thing would probably be to find a way to use the turbolifts to escape. Hopefully they wouldn’t have guards all the time.

In the meantime, she could only wait and wonder what would happen next.


 [center]~| day 2, 14:30 GST |~
~| Republic shipyard, Corellia |~[/center]


Lyric Novan, a Jedi and master, stood overlooking the current activity below. Despite his relaxed posture, leaning against the guardrail and overseeing the progress being made, he couldn’t fully help pausing from his realistic thoughts to absorb it all. Bodies, men, women and droids alike, scattered to their assignments. Some off loading crates from arriving shuttles, others set them onto hovercarts and finally the rest pushing them onto the Thranta-Class Cruiser, obvious to the last minute system checks or engineers scrambling about to ensure any slight, last minute changes would work to maximum operation. To a Knight or Padawan, the group at work looked like scattered ants dancing across the hard metal grates.

Lyric chuckled, softly amused at the activity below him. Anyone seeing him knew, despite his thirty-nine years, he was a master. Though he wasn’t surprised how many questioned it as he pushed his lean frame farther into the railing and crossed over his right arm, a thumb scratching a thick, blaster scar nick across his right eyebrow. It was thanks to the battles he chose willing to take on, evidence to the challenges he faced, and made the reality of loss that much more real. Lyric always knew the war would end, but he never thought it would’ve ended this way. 

Both troublesome information and details known to only a few settled in his head, each one made him ponder over his future course of acts and mystery about where they might lead. A fact he was taking his responsibly lightly - mainly should this mission fail completely - would’ve sent many in a sheer worry. His teeth bit a little harder into his cigarra. He liked feeling the herbs give a little under the pressure while the hot tip burned cherry red, his lungs inhaling the toxic air, shortening his life slowly. That he was sure of. The smoke wafted into his nostrils causing a overwhelming calming effect he had bitter sweet memories over. This task was going to be a challenge and he only hoped, with shadowing doubts, the Jedi chosen would be able to meet the challenges to come. His teeth sank a little deeper into the ciggara’s wrapping as his fingers pinched the center, holding the red hot tip over the railing edge where the ashes were tapped into his cupped hand underneath.

“Well, I better get the bad news out to those selected by the Council.” He mumbled to himself, feeling the slight sting in his hand fade. His padawan would be rather disappointed with his bad habits but he shrugged it off lightly. There was little point in getting upset over something not likely to last long. He pulled his ciggara back into his mouth, clamping down to hold it, while backing off the railing. He stood upright for several moments and tied up his blue and cream colored robes before turning on heel towards the nearest room. It was a temporary set for a command room. One which plans from the ship to key decisions were agreed upon in secret, hidden from curious eyes. Now, the room was abandoned during the final stages of the operation. 

Lyric gently padded inside, closing the door behind him. It made a airy hiss as his path took him to the door and his arms reached out, placing his hands over the various scattered papers covering the table surface. Notes, receipts, and more were placed in messy piles but he didn’t care. They were the least of his concern. His right hand reached out then situated his cigarra into the dispenser. With steady and well practiced hands, he flipped on the hologram and stepped in front. He cleared away all human motion, the worry and frustration, once more complete stillness in his posture. Lyric placed his hands behind his back giving his image the air expected by master rank he held. Sometimes this job was turning out to be more of a pain in the ass than it was worth.

“Greetings, Knights of the Republic. It seems after many years of war, peace may soon be upon us. As welcome as the idea is, is it truly peace when our brother and sister Jedi are prisoners of the Sith? Now we have a choice, to either do something or simply let the Sith corrupt their ways. You have all heard the horrors of what happened to Jedi who were captured early on in the war. Their viciousness, their cruelty, and changes so unnatural that we were forced to often than not to put them down.  They are now as bad as any Sith we fight against. Would you wish that fate upon our imprisoned brothers and sisters? Or will you spare them from that fate? Will you fight and help me save them from the Sith plans to twist them within the Darkness, they, themselves have chosen to decay in? If so, meet me at these coordinates where a ship will be waiting.”


When Lyric finished, the recording clicked off leaving him to slouch once more into less stiff manner. Slowly he padded to the table and once more, his hand picked up the cigarra which he placed in his mouth. He paused, his expression realizing immediately what was wrong. Giving a small sigh, he plucked the smoke from his lips then tossed it away into the incinerator hole. “Damn pranksters, can’t they come up with anything more original than placing worshyr sap in the ashtray? I’ll just have to show them how it’s done, won’t I? ” 

Mumbling to himself, he walked back to see the ship progress while he waited for the Jedi to arrive. 

[center]~| 2 days after the Sacking of Coruscant, 14:30 GST |~[/center]

After all the Jedi had arrived, many boarded silently. Lyric stood, quiet and somber, watching each individual trek up the ramp and into the large ship. His new cigarra was wafting with each deep inhale making him look much more grime than he felt while he waited until the Jedi disappeared onboard. Far fewer than expected had answered his call, that much he was disappointed in, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. Most their number were possibly falling back and retreating from behind the new enemy lines if the information he got was true. It also meant when that treaty was officially signed then there was bound to be serious casualties shortly enough. All Jedi. His teeth bite down deeper on his cigarra before he stepped on board, his boots softly tapping the grated ramp while it pulled up after him, the doors rushing to close behind him and officially sealing them all in. All the Jedi has been well informed about the matter regarding the Treaty negotiations, including the fact that shortly they had would have no aid should they fail. 

It was a risk he made sure each of them fully understood and was willing to lay down their lives for. 

He, secretly, was thankful for the hidden intel. The very information that reported spotting the same Gage class transport, a prison ship, belonging to a Darth Nyiss, heading to Coruscant some time before the Empire had seized the planet and obviated the temple. Lyric knew deep in his senses it was no chance occurrence that this particular Darth would’ve been sighted there or despite the lacking proof of missing Jedi, she hadn’t taken more prisoners on top of what she already had. She was cruel, heartless and everything the Sith idolized in their filth code. Sharply inhaling at the thought, the master made his way to the bridge at a steady clip. When he walked in, he watched the crew already seating themselves into their assigned places and preparing the ship for take off. The engines hummed to life and roared, the vibrations rumbling through the hull and interior walls bring the large metal behemoth to life. He nodded his praise but said nothing until the captain, a red haired man in his early forties, looked toward him for orders. 

“Captain Sion Typhe, take us off Corellia and head straight to the coordinates our quarry was last seen.” Lyric commanded, his hands once more settled behind his back. 

“Aye, aye, Master Novan.” The captain answered and turned to signal take off. 

After waiting for months with no mission, the newly christened [i]Memory of Coruscant[/i] gave a deafening bellow and took off for the stars at last.  May the Force be with them.