The Tension of Turned Tides [Doren, de bae]

[Slade Xandir]

There were times Blood had held certain events for trials and ceremonies of his faction, giving the populace something either bloody or challenging to feast their eyes upon for certain rites and rituals within the Sith. It reminded the slaves who they served, the armada what they were to believe in, and the potential opposers what they were capable of. Rancor pits, sporting arenas, serpent jousting, controlled flights, and lava diving were all pieces of an elaborate and telling puzzle of the Sith in this day and age.

Today, however, something more...tame, would be shown today. Just for the mettle test of their soon-to-be allied guests. The Sith Lord knew there wasn't much of an actual application to drenching the Captain in blood or anything, and it was rather modest of an offer, but Blood had plans to set his sights on a bit of racing. This race was a hunt, and this was to take place on Yavin 8. If anything, it was much more tame than the suggestions he was recieving from both Warvanus and Karliah, while Raven wasn't too fond of creativity in 'fun' aspects. She did however, admit that she understood how it could prove useful to see their valor.

As the Sith Lord vocally noted the rules down on a datapad, he allowed the option for them to be disolayed with pictures, as well. There were a host of dangers on Yavin 8; and all of them were larger than the size of a regular man. There were going to be points given for each kill, however, and Blood labeled them as such.

The entirity of the fauna was up for grabs as far as hunting, and Blood, knowing he had harvested the dna for the majority of species here, cared little whether they eradicated the species as a whole. He had obtained Reel eggs, Avril young, and Melodie youth worked for him, ready at any notice to repolulate. They had already done such on Sojourn, and that in itself pleased him. He hadn't checked in on them, but considering they were an independent species, he knew they would alert him had they need so. With that said, Blood put the final touches on the datapad, including the warning of watching the larger bodies of water, to stay alive, and to enjoy the genocide he invited them to partake with his own crew.
The rules included the use of ysalamari, just to ensure he and his group weren't cheating, along with limited weapons included. Vibro axes for the heavy hitters, a couple of bowcasters for the archers of the groups, and a few more guns and blades. Nothing flashy, but there were very few silent weapons, so they all would ultimately need to be careful with their shots.

Two days they would have to ring in as much catch as they could. That way they would be able to experience the hunt in both daylight and night time.

Sending the info through transfer to Doren's contact, Blood sat back and awaited the ye or nay.

[Professor Mors]

Doren had wasted little time in answering the strange invitation that appeared within his inbox. Within an hour he was subjugated to yet another meeting with the joint chiefs of staff. Three more hours passed, and soon Vassyl found himself aboard his personal shuttle, the Blackthorn, only now beginning its descent into the shadowy moon of Yavin 8. To a certain degree, the Captain was relieved that of the habitable satellites in the system, this was the one his hosts had chosen for their gathering. Not one to follow the anti-alien sentiments of his establishment in private, Doren had nurtured a soft spot for xenobiology. Thankfully, Yavin 8 boasted the least lethal fauna out of its siblings: of course, that didn't do much to bolster Vassyl's chances of survival.

Thankfully, he would not be going it alone. Doren long-time accomplice within the army, the newly appointed Major Orville Patrias, and a retinue of his finest troops would also be participating in the exercise. There wasn't a single cadre of soldiers Vassyl relied upon or respected more so than the Orindan and his cohort. If worse came to worse, Doren trusted them to make it back despite the odds, no matter how slim they might be. Upon landing at the provided coordinates, the Major and his men quickly set about unpacking the various arms and equipment they would employ, if the situation so demanded it. The Captain assisted in these endeavors for a time, until the larger containers got the better of him. Not wishing to overexert himself so early, Doren retrieved his handy macrobinoculars, and set about scanning the landscape.

Sitting on the edge of the system, the eight moon of Yavin was far colder than its counterparts, and Vassyl saw fit to adjust his greatcoat several times over the course of his reconnaissance. Having completed the disembarking of materials, Orville soon marched over to his companion, and with usual curiosity, earnestly inquired, "Do you really think we'll need those missile pods Sir?". "For our sake I hope not Mister Patrias, but one can never be too sure", Doren began, his complexion souring as he contemplated all manner of beasts lying just out of sight, "It will depend on what our hosts deem necessary to observe their cultural practices". Vassyl earnestly clung to hope that modern weapons would be agreeable. The Sith were an ancient entity however, and such antiquity might require far more primitive measures. Oh, what a fiasco that would be.