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Considering their track record of two thousand years of the most capable of individuals and their memories and genes stored away, the naming convention of the Order remained...lacklustre at best. The Thralls were one suh prime example. Standing at two and a half meters, these behemths were mindless slaves of the central computer. Giving them droid-like identification codes may have been better, but both Moonstone and Obsidian had specifically asked that they be called Thralls. AFUTU and AFUO, Anti-Force User Tactical Units and Anti-Force User Ordinance, both suffered from this apparent lack of decent creativity.

Nonetheless, it had its purpose and it fulfilled them well. The Thralls were few in number and highly expensive to make. An estimated one in ten thousand specimens survived the entire process, and this was from a highly selective recruitment process of the most physically capable and healthy specimens of the Wookiee, Mon Calamari and Bothan races. It also did not help that some of the Thralls hailed from criminal backgrounds not of the first three species and they were not the weakest of the lot. Statistically a million specimens went through the process and only a hundred had survived. This was the...optimistic statistics.

The reality was about one zero off. Ten million had been sent to the butcher's house that was the Gathering Shadows. One hundred had survived. Each one of them was armoured in molecularly bonded durasteel alloy, fully weaved in cortosis strands, three separate personal shield generators overlapped their giant forms, and in each and every one of their backs was an armoured compartment that housed an Ysalamiri. Their shoulders had personal anti-vehicle rocket launchers, their legs had anti-personnel shrapnel rounds. Their arms housed a pair of vibro-blades with the specific intention of parrying lightsabers, and their chest pieces housed two heavy repeating blasters. In addition, they could carry a good dozen throwable grenades, and their hands could wield custom made weapons like a blaster rifle or a specialised needle-gun.

These were the best science and money could purchase for their one purpose, to kill force users.

Of course, the Order of the Contra Mundus did not intend to kill the Sith. Not when the Jedi still breathed. In the end the best counter to the force adept was another force adept. Compared to the Jedi however, the Sith were instinctively self-destructive. Thus it served the Obsidian Lord's wishes and plans better to assist the Sith more than the Jedi.

The Gathering Shadows was not only a mobile base of operations, it was not only some mad scientist's dream of a perfect laboratory. It was also the dedicated weapons manufacturing plant for the Thralls and their weapons. Prized amongst them was the needle guns and their ammunition rounds. Unfielded but wholly tested, these propelled syringes carried the product of the Second Republic projects. The Vaccine, they called it, a virus with nanomachine escorts. The same nanomachines that found its host in the Obsidian Lord. The virus had one target and one target alone, the midi-chlorians. But the scientists made the virus too strong and too reproductive. A normal mundane individual would have his midi-chlorians killed to such an extent that he could no longer support life. Even the Obsidian Lord did not intend to kill off the non-force sensitive population. Instead, he had ordered his scientists to continue the research to perfect this.

But this time, he was going to be surounded by the Sith. They had at least enough midi-chlorians to be shot b the vaccine and survive. Their force sensitivity would return of course, after a few days or a week. The weak ones would be hospitalised and then recover in a month. Such a weapon would benefit greatly from the test run. No need to have full intentions of using it though. They were there to make friends after all.

The AFUTU, were a different story. An entire Legion of ten thousand men and women, dedicated to the cause of the Order and former fugitives, criminals, death-row inmates. They hailed from all walks of life including pirates, mercenaries, bandits, crime bosses, thugs, rebels, and political prisoners. Deprved of their fear of death, deprived of their individual will, just as much a slave to the Obsidian Throne like any Thrall, but they were allowed to retain their humanity and their temporary will. If given an order they would unquestioningly obey. But until then, they were allowed to live their life as they wished.

Trained to stick within ten meters of any Thrall, the Legion was divided into squads of nine. They were trained in hand-to-hand, melee, and ranged combat. Their ranged weapons were crossbows, slugthrowers, and other kinetic weapons. They were given an energy shield and a vibro-blade, trained to keep the lightsaber occupied with the shield and using the blade for killing or wounding blows. They were given light armour, but in the end, they were no better than a well equipped soldier.

The remaining two hundred and fourty men were far worse. No ranged weapons, only solid shields and a normal blade and light combat armour. Trained only to look for weaknesses and exposed joints in any combat armour, they were the ragtag cannon fodder. But with each life they gained experience, and some amongst them had even learned a few tricks with their blades.

The distinct hatred for energy weapons by the Obsidian Lord was apparent. The hatred of lightsabers was also made manifest. So much so that he ad ordered two centuries ago that each and every operative, agent, soldier, lieutenant of his, would all be issued one EMP grenade per operation. They were free to use this where they thought it best. Lightsabers were no exceptions to the EMP.

In eighteen hours, half of his entire army, a quarter of what he had wanted in the original plan, was fully equipped and boarded up in troop transports, freighters, cargo-ships and other such light vessels. The Deus Ex Machina jumped out of hyperspace a few lightyears away from Ziost, a mere dozen or so seconds away with a jump. These vessels all entered the Gathering Shadows and a lone black lambda shuttle that looked slightly bulkier than its normal cousins, docked into the bays of the modified Lucrehulk droid control ship.

One short jump later, the only vessel in the Order of the Contra Mundus with an arsenal worthy of a capital ship entered the Ziost System. Its shields up, engines powered but weapons wholly shut down. Its intention was clear. It was here to talk, not to fight, but it was prepared to run if the locals thought otherwise.

Inside the black shuttle, Lord Obsidian picked up his favourite communications device, the archaic phone with a holoprojector on it.

"This is Izaak von Schwartzkrieg, requesting permission to land. I have departed from the Empire and bring with me half a million dedicated soldiers, amongst others, to serve the banner of the Dark Lords of the Sith."

"My Liege, we have comfirmed a positive reply from the surface."

Obsidian nodded in approval as he seated himself in the command chair of the main bridge. The secondary bridge was von Reuentahl's but the main bridge remained a nice observation deck.

"Very well then, detatch from the main body, send us down."

The orb of the Gathering Shadows detatched from the arms of the rest of the ship and began its descent to the planet of Ziost. The main Sith citadel was not recorded on the main map but they did have a beacon ready set up. No doubt they were expecting a shuttle or a series of troop transports. Well, no fun in that was there?

Since the final days of the Clone Wars, this ship had been dormant in the planet cityscape of Denon. It finally lived up to its name as the orb descended upon the planet. They would find their own little landing site as close to the citadel as possible and then use their atmosphere capable vehicles to send them to the citadel. As their descent slowed, Obsidian moved to the turbolift with his entourage. They were the first vehicle to depart and the massive ramps descended. Line after line of soldiers and operatives in full regalia marched down the ramp to the cold plateau, Their vehicles following behind them to take them where they were needed.

On the other hand, a single black air-limousine that was patched up in the last minute to survive the colder environment of Ziost, sped up towards the citadel. Where they landed on the platform where the beacon originated from. Coming out of the car, Izaak von Schwartzkrieg in his trench coat and cane, looked to see who, if any would greet the thrice cursed Imperial.

von Schwartzkrieg simply nodded at the corpse and the message as he considered his options. So the majority here was still loyal to the current Dark Lord and the usurper had made some vital mistakes. Well, he had planned to subjugate them all if need be so there was at least enough ruckus going on to make his life easier. He could accomplish what he had planned with only a quarter of the force just fine. The trouble was this girl. She definetly moved fast, reminded him of his time duelling with Kalvin Strife. These force users definetly loved going toe to toe with him in their game of hop skip and jump.

"Lady and Gentlemen, you heard the client. He wants this place cleaned up. His people will know we are on his side. Shoot only those who shoot at you and leave the killing blow to the Sith. Shoot to disable. Understood?"

Izaak was glad his body could keep up at least barely with Lanya. The reason she still attacked him was because she was a supporter of the current dark lord and not his client. Schultz Sarath seemed to be muttering something under his breath into a comm link and suddenly the skies were filled with atmospheric vehicles of varying sizes and types swarming into the citadel. The Obsidian Lord realised he would not be able to receive the next swing from his adversary that a Thrall leapt in between them and unleashed its arm mounted vibroblades on the smaller creature. Despite its lumbering two and a half meter imposing figure, it moved arguably faster than Izaak.

"Right, Lady Lanya, I am in need to look presentable for this meeting you see. My Client has requested a business deal with me and I must oblige to his request. Cannot have you ruining my clothes now can we? Have fun with Unit Zero Two. He is quite the handful. Zero Two, just incapacitate her or make her immobile and follow. She doesn't look like she has anything that can hurt you anyways, not without her precious force. Lady and Gentlemen! We move forward. Our client has requested our presence and our support. Subdue all who oppose the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

And with that, the remaining Thrall, Varz, Schultz, Benjamin, Tiferet, Chesed and Izaak began to sprint towards the Citadel.