Annihilation Across the Stars

[Skeevi Merrill]

"Don't let me get shot this time, alright?"

Fett could stay at the front all he liked, but for her part Mauve chose to sit as far away from the ramp as possible. She sat with datapad in hand, trying to stop the raging storm of emotions swirling within her. Fear. Doubt. Anxiety. She could feel them eking from some of the others too, no matter how much of a brave face they put on.

He rose just as Koda Fett walked past, the familiar spurs jingling. Same sound he remembered the night Fett dropped him on Shaddaa. Same night he'd crawled to Skeevi Merrill Skeevi Merrill for a patch job he still hadn't fully paid for. This gig, Tohu thought, would square it.

He watched the super star destroyer grow until it dwarfed their syndicate transport. They could make a run at one of the hangar bays and go in blasters blazing or slice into an exterior airlock. Neither option appealed to Nero.

" According to my probability module. Our chances of success rank at approximately 0.00045%." His motions slowed slightly to ensure a careful handling of the volatile power cell of the disruptor rifle. " With the appropriate modifiers, assuming your meatsuits are in peak condition, 0.00045% boosts to a whole karking 3.63%"

Scrambling marine forces flooded in to repel the assault, with the shuttle ramps lowering and a horde of criminals spilling out onto the hangar floor.

AVS TYTHON
HANGAR

Being tacked on to Black Sun, in Skeevi's experience, janked between terror and thrills. Huddled in the shelter of three stacked bodies, Skeevi pondered what kind of day this might be. They'd checked their loadout fifteen times while inbound: blaster rifle, medpack, and such accoutrements as befitted a ripperdoc pressed into service as a combat medic again. (Last time had involved a field expedient heart. That hadn't been a 'thrills' day.)

The accoutrements in question, in bags and bandoliers, included invasive cybernetic life-support gear of the plug-and-play variety, as well as every variety of dubiously-provenanced stim pack. And then there were the actual extreme measures, injectables and patches and inhalants: gunjack. Booster Blue. Pyrepenol. Neutron Pixie.

Skeevi nerved themself up and darted from cover to cover, applying drugs as necessary to keep people fighting. Stray dispensers began to litter the hangar deck. The whole place was a roar.

Yeah, probably still a terror day.

 

[V1-L8]

Tohu said, "What about now?" and pointed through the viewport. A station the size of a moon had just dropped out of hyperspace.

Booster Byll, an old ship-jacker, supposed to be showing Velis Arden how the pros did it today, craned his neck, T'bac cigarillo glowing between his lips.

"Seen a lot of junk out here. Never seen that," he said, smoke slipping past his teeth.

The droid shifted his gaze to the sudden hyperspace riding astronomical object. A massive sphere of metal. Photoreceptor inner mechanisms brightening and faintly humming as V1-L8 magnified his perception. A space station? His data banks and access to the HoloNet scouring over information in seconds as to any hint of what was being witnessed.

The only near results were contained in subjective myths and legends of old.

A super weapon. Spectacular! V1-L8's "thoughts" ruminated on the very concept of it. Over and over. But when it came for a reply. That as a entirely different matter. " Excuse me? That is my mother your talking about. " His gaze shot at Tohu mimicking offense.


A few moments later...

The Black Sun shuttles cut across the space between their pirate fleets and the super star destroyer, cannon fire thundering around them on either side - intensifying as the shuttles continued to near, with one erupting into an explosion that claimed the lives of all onboard. Once more, the pilots shouted something coarse and rough in Huttese as the starfighter screen peeled off from the assault, having breached the Tython's hangar.

Scrambling marine forces flooded in to repel the assault, with the shuttle ramps lowering and a horde of criminals spilling out onto the hangar floor.

VIOLATE was one of first waves to depart. Fast walking down the ramp into blaster fire. As the scum and villainy around him fell like flys, The YVH unit was already aligning fire vectors. The activation of his combative modules took the helm and a whining thrum cried out. A streak of green energy flashed bright! Whizzing through a lined up squad of republic soldiers.

All their forms igniting from the shot and erupting a destructive wave. Screams then silence. A pause long enough to feel and watch fate envelope. Only shadowy imprints remained. Smoke wisped from the barrel of the T-7 ion disrupter rifle and trailing to another target grouping. It was rinse, wash and repeat in action and insult. With every flash of green light, the droid taunted. As was his programming and then a bit more.

"Your bones glittered with ion residue. Such handsome ruin." He commented and then issued another and another. "Circuit roast commencing. Your bio-impulses will be archived!"

"Report to your maker. Tell them you were fried by perfection!"


Tags: Koda Fett Skeevi Merrill IG-44 Razmir Tezhyn Nero Drake Marek Bancroft Tiber Septimus Mauve du Vain Diarch Reign

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Allies: Srina Talon | Darth Caedes | Lina Ovmar | Taeli Raaf | Haro Aven | Naamino Zuukamano | Aether Verd | Domina Prime | Korda Veydran | Renn Vizsla | Aselia Verd | Madrona A’Mia​

The Iron Eidolon was not like other ships. Its lines were deliberate, purposeful, cut into a shape that could only have been imagined by Srina Talon . Where other vessels carried the mark of fleets or the signatures of faceless engineers, this one carried her. The very hum of its engines felt measured, exact, as if every bolt and circuit had been chosen with intent. Gerwald Lechner had stood on countless bridges in his lifetime, but none that carried this kind of presence. It was a weapon given form, and it spoke of her hand in every sharp edge of its design.

The storm of the Blackwall loomed ahead, an obsidian scar across the void. Its surface pulsed faintly, restless with ancient energy. Lightning rippled across it like veins of blood beneath skin, answering the call that had already begun to stir on the bridge. Gerwald stood with his hands clasped behind his back, broad frame set against the glow of violet light. He said nothing at first. Words were not needed. His presence was its own declaration.

This was not a gathering of strangers. He had fought beside Caedes before, endured the sharp edge of his peculiar ways and the certainty of his command. He had seen Revna’s steel resolve tempered in flame, and he had learned to respect the quiet patience of A’Mia, whose visions often reached where the rest of them could not see. Lina, too, had earned her place among them, her weaving steady and sure. This was the Order. Whatever enemies gathered beyond the scar of the Blackwall, they would find no weakness here.

The Mandalorians held their place as well, though Gerwald’s eyes did not linger on them. They had their oaths, their honor, their creed. He had no love for their kind, but their presence did not unbalance him. They were here because Srina willed it. He would not question her judgment. His loyalty was not to them, nor to contracts, but to her.

War had come again. He did not resent it. Peace had never been more than a fleeting lie. From the first moment he had taken up a blade, he had learned that war was the only truth the galaxy would never abandon. Others still prayed for calm, for respite, for order. Gerwald had stopped chasing such illusions. The wolf was born for war, and war had never ceased its pursuit of him. He wore it like a mantle and carried it like a second skin.

Srina stood at the center of the deck, pale and severe. She lifted her hand toward the Blackwall, and power spilled outward in answer. The deck itself seemed to hold its breath. Around her, the others rose to meet her call. Caedes took his place with his wraiths gathering around him, their presence deepening the weight of the moment. Revna sharpened her will, her eyes hard and focused. A’Mia’s nature shifted. Her form bending toward something ancient as visions rippled around her like water disturbed by unseen stone. Lina stood firm, weaving her thread into the greater whole.

Gerwald stepped forward to join them. He did not speak. He did not need to. His will pressed into the ritual with the steady weight of stone, iron, and fire anchoring the weave that Srina began. Where her reach extended, he grounded. Where others wove, he steadied. The void quivered under their command, violet cracks crawling across the surface of the Blackwall.

The silence of the deck was taut, strung like the string of a bow pulled to its breaking point. For a moment, the room existed only as a single heartbeat, waiting. Then Gerwald broke it.

“The Empire comes. We are ready.”

The Blackwall split wide, light spilling across the deck like a wound in the galaxy. Through it came the scent of engines, the hum of war waiting beyond. Gerwald’s hand drifted to the hilt of his lightsaber, its weight as familiar as breath. He would meet the enemy here, as he always had, at Srina’s side.

And then A’Mia’s voice cut across them all, calm and eerie, carried not by air but by thought.

Onward.

The word settled into his chest like iron. He looked into the widening rift and saw the path cast forward, a spear of will driven by her hand. She had become the tip of the strike, the forward edge of their fury. The wolf bared his teeth in silence, corrupted golden eyes burning as the Eidolon surged to follow her lead.

War had found him again. This time, the Empire would be the prey.

 

[Srina Talon]

Allies: SO + ME
Tag: Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Elmindra Xitaar | Madrona A’Mia | Taeli Raaf | Gerwald Lechner | Lina Ovmar | Aether Verd | Renn Vizsla | Domina Prime | Aselia Verd | Naamino Zuukamano | Haro Aven | Korda Veydran | Siv Kryze
Location: Horuset System (Near the Korriban Side of the Blackwall)

____________________________________________________

She barely needed to ask.

Srina could feel them, one by one, the strength of her Sith rising swiftly to the occasion. They would feel her gratitude rather than hear her say it aloud...For the Empress never liked to take from those around her. Part of her was loath to turn her agenda from teaching to outright war…But it was the only option that made logical sense. It was pragmatic. They were already present, mostly geared, and thus, Srina merely needed to give them a path forward. Something was stirring within Galatic Alliance territory that she was still trying to grasp the full scope of. Normally, they wouldn't interfere.

Why should the Sith Order care about Atrisia?

Why would they bother interfering in plans that seemed specifically designed to decimate the Jedi?

If the Galactic Empire wanted to throw themselves upon the rocky shores of the Alliance and batter their collective bodies to pulp in the wake of the Light…Was it not prudent to let them?

The fragmented pieces of information that she had received from Quinn Varanin was working on painting a clearer picture while violet light arced from her outstretched hand and into the Blackwall. The memories from her daughter were disjointed. Cracked by emotion, desperation, and the fire-ridden drive to prove herself. Srina had to wade through everything that her child was to discern the truth of what was taking place in a system so far away, but she knew enough to know that regardless where the Galactic Empire was…Solipsis was stirring. Waking.

It was as if dying once in his pursuits of galactic domination had taught him nothing, though, the Empress did not know him well enough to guess his thought and intent. She could only operate with the information that was presented to her: Everyone was a target.

"Mandalorians always keep their word.

Srina nodded her head, knowing the answer long before it left his mouth…The challenge in her query was for the benefit of those who looked up to him. He did not bend for her will alone, nor, did she dote on him unnecessarily. He honored his word. It wouldn't take long for Aether Verd to figure out that the Mandalorian Empire fell into the same category. That this attack, though hidden, would eventually spill over into all worlds if it wasn't stopped here and now. His rallying speech rolled through the Death Watch like thunder and they came to attention with just the right mixture of zeal and prudence.

The religious overtone that Domina Prime brought to the Iron Eidolon was strange and new from the former Mandalorian Empire she had known—But she didn't turn up her nose. She believed in herself and the greatness of her people, not, some land or deity, that she couldn't see or feel. If listening to her sermon gave the Death Watch courage, they would be all the better for it.

At her shoulders, metaphorically and literally, strength assembled. Srina could feel a subtle shift in the air when Darth Caedes stepped past after giving his personnel specific orders. He didn't blink, didn't falter, simply melting from doting lover to a King that moved as if he had been issued a silent challenge. These actions of the Empire were an insult, a slap in the face, and none would ignore it. It was the Sith Order who had won their wars and held the line against the Galactic Alliance while his bones were left to rot…While he had the peace, the freedom, of death. Not the other way around. Of course—The response would be swift. Lina Ovmar was a surprising but welcome figure, though, they'd only met formally a few times. Srina knew the history was…Complex. But, for now, it was neither here nor there.

If Lady Ovmar wished for her head for the actions of Darth Carnifex and the Kainite...She would simply have to wait in line. For now…The dark-haired woman was there when it mattered—And that was all that mattered. Her gaze settled on a young zabrak that arrived ( Naamino Zuukamano ), before the calm of Madrona A’Mia settled like a spearpoint, cutting away everything else, while even Aselia Verd lent her gifts to the cause. It was an interesting surprise to find a Mandalorian that openly wasn't afraid of the Force in this era, even if, they mistakenly thanked the Manda for it.

Revna Marr was present…Ever there, a silent witness, observing all. Srina had noticed that there was very little the future Queen did not see, especially, since enduring horrors aboard the Malsheem. Srina lifted her hand a little higher toward the Blackwall and let only the first thread of power slip free for the others to grasp. It was a passing of invisible thread, weaving, to create a passageway.

The scar visibly quaked and shivered…

"Anchor points…", she murmured to none, and all, drawing pin points for the eyes to follow along the Blackwall…"We're building a hinge to travel through; Not punching a hole."

Her will set the vectors, while Caedes' weight pressed in, and Lina wrapped the cracks in shadow, binding them, so the portal didn't collapse on itself. The Hordemother parted the work they had done with a single, clean line. Aselia steadied while Gerwald Lechner added a familiar flavor that provided structure and integrity. Revna provided backbone to the spell work simply by being present, even, while she prepared herself for what came next.

Onward

The singular word from Madrona A’Mia rang in the back of her mind, in all, of their minds and the rift widened. Cracking open—Bright and raw, before it smoothed under their combined discipline.

It was a sight to behold.​

A spinning maw that utilized the might of storm seeds that made the Blackwall what it was. It filled the deck with a violent hue through the viewport and Srina slowly lowered her hand, gaze a luminous molten gold. Her eyes settled on Aether Verd once more. "You heard our Hordemother…It is time to take control of your ships and see what lays on the other side."

Her focus turned toward the others while her jaw set tight. She could pilot and knew the basics of naval warfare as any Echani should but she was no Elmindra Xitaar when it came down to it. If she understood correctly the Dreadlords were readying Caedes fleet for the moment, but, they needed to make way. "Three lanes, staggered entry. The Eidolon will go first. If anyone loses control while trying to pass through speak up so we can steady you. No…heroics until the fight actually begins."

That last bit was for the Mandalorians. Her hawkish eyes found each member of the Death Watch ( Aselia Verd , Aether Verd , Domina Prime , Korda Veydran , Renn Vizsla ) for a moment. Siv Kryze may also hear if he wasn't out of range. They were all heroes in their own mind…While Srina firmly counted herself as a villain, evil, because she would always do whatever it took for the betterment of her people. No matter how heinous. She would be the monster they needed and they never needed to ask for it.

It was just what she was.

Srina spared the fleet a final, clinical sweep. Contracts honored. Portal stabilized. Ammunition, fuel, casualty contingencies accounted for. Then her chin lifted, aureate orbs fixed on the far edge of a war that only she could see. The back and forth of a species that could predict the outcome of events long before they took place…It made her seem there and not there. Present…But focused on the dangers of what they might find on the other side. These ships could use the ghost-path to avoid detection.

She could only hope Aether Verd used it wisely.

Silence pervaded while the fleet began to move forward and infest Atrisian airspace while a blinding gash birthed them into a whole new scene. Gone was the majesty of the Blackwall by Korriban. Here—A giant circular object blotted out everything else. The familiar spherical shape and indentation glinting off the sun caused her eyes to narrow while chaos descended…

…A Death Star?

"Pick your targets and do what must be done. That thing is where the disturbance is coming from, so it is our priority. Collateral damage is to be expected...Take out the enemy at all costs. "

[Exiting Chapter 2 With Group (Across the Stars) to Engage in Chapter 3 (Clash of Destiny)]​

Spoiler: Equpiment

Armour Saber Ring Ring Terentatek Body Gloves HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon Holding Aces

 

[Haro Aven]

LOCATION: OUTER RIM TERRITORIES > SITH HOLY WOLRDS > KORRIBAN > KOR'ETHYR ACADEMY​

EQUIPMENT: BODIE | VIBROKNIVES | BLASTER PISTOL | FIELD COM-SCAN LINK | SLICER SPIKE​

OBJECTIVE: GATHER MORE INTEL ON GALACTIC CURRENT EVENTS​

The corridor of Kor'ethyr's Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility was uncharacteristically empty, because the guard on duty had sliced into a control room and was pouring over a terminal with the focused intensity of someone in the midst of doing something they weren't suppose to. His little bug-like droid was plugged into the terminal, downloading what information Haro could pull from the system.

Since his conversation with Naamino Zuukamano about the recent Sith war council, Haro's head had been spinning. Ever the diligent military man, Naami always maintained confidentiality where necessary in regards to the more classified aspects of his apprenticeship of Elmindra Xitaar, but he trusted Haro enough that sometimes what was shared between them in their private debriefings skirted the edge of that boundary. Naami had boasted about how the Galactic Alliance had lost the Core Worlds, and he had lamented that it had not been at the hand of the Sith Order but an institution calling themselves the Galactic Empire. The conversation had left Haro with questions that were too dangerous to ask his friend, so he decided to risk finding out for himself by covering a guard shift at the academy's information facility to see what else the Sith's authoritarian media wasn't telling them about the state of the galaxy.

The reports and new stories Haro found confirmed what Naami had disclosed to him and more, but it also created more questions and it did little to quell his growing dread. From what he gleaned about this Galactic Empire, they were no less tyrannical than the Sith and, worse, they appeared to be even more effective at conquering the galaxy.

The terminal and control room was left as if untouched by the time Haro returned to his post, but his mind still reeled from the what he'd learned. Mere moments after he'd tucked away Bodie and his slicer spike, a chill rippled up his spine and he whirled to find the haunting visage of a Jen'koshū dreadlorde looming in corridor, standing still enough to be a statue made of bone and armor if it wasn't for the menacing glow animating the shadows of its hollow eye sockets.

"Come, Haro Aven. You've been summoned by the King."

Haro's breath caught in his throat. His every instinct told him to run but he held his ground. He knew from his years at Kor'ethyr, there was no running from the King of Korriban. So he straightened and approached the towering undead warrior, prepared to go where commanded even while he silently prayed that it would not be to his execution.

Not long after Haro had arrived at the rendezvous, Naami joined him. Some of the tension eased from him as his friend drew closer and it became clear that they were going to the same place.

"Not sure. Haven't been able to get many details. Seems rushed though. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough," he said ominously, glancing up at the shuttle that awaited them.​

​

LOCATION: OUTER RIM TERRITORIES > SITH HOLY WOLRDS > KORRIBAN SPACE > THE EIDOLON​

EQUIPMENT: BODIE | VIBROKNIVES | BLASTER PISTOL | FIELD COM-SCAN LINK | SLICER SPIKE | KOR'ETHYR-ISSUED KAINITE TROOPER ARMOR [armor permissions]​

OBJECTIVE: ATTEND THE KING'S SUMMONS​

TAGS: Naamino Zuukamano | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Madrona A’Mia | Gerwald Lechner | Lina Ovmar | Taeli Raaf ​

By the time the two young soldiers made it aboard The Eidolon and into the Combat Information Center, the air was heavy with power and crackling with energy. Haro's eyes went wide with disbelief behind the vizor of his helmet as he glanced around at who he now shared the room with, suddenly feeling like a mouse droid among titans.

Not even Naami's diligent address to their superiors shook him from his stupor as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The powerful beings gathered appeared to be singularly focused on something out in space, beyond the ship. Through the massive viewport, he could see the rift in the Blackwall—a colossal maw that yawned open ever wider with each passing moment.

Onward.

The eerie purr of Professor Madrona A’Mia slithered through his mind, and he stiffened, the color draining from his face. He moved almost imperceptibly closer to Naami, but he remained at attention, as ready as he'd ever be to face whatever horrors were to come.​

[To be continued in Chapter 3: Clash of Destiny...]
​

 

[Marek Bancroft]

It was a rarity among the usual dealings of the Alliance for their diplomatic missions to be hosted within the cold exterior of a military vessel. This mission in particular had been a treat for the Senator, who until boarding the AVS Tython had never stepped foot within the gargantuan constructs which the Alliance referred to as their Super Star Destroyers. Personally he believed the framing of the Ship's class came off a bit too Imperial for his taste, but the vessel itself was nonetheless a magnificent sight to behold.

As large as it was to see from the outside, from within it proved to be an expanse worthy of getting lost within, were there enough recreational time available to explore it in its entirety. Unfortunately the wheels of bureaucracy needed to be turned, and by the time he'd been freed from the constraints of his station, the delegation from the Diarchy had been announced by the vessel's Captain to being escorted into one of the vessel's many shuttle bays.

Some time later, the proceedings were going about as well as one could expect. Despite their evident backfooting amidst the now-dubbed Great Core War that had found the Alliance embroiled in total war against the resurgent Solipsis and his newest iteration of Sith and Imperials alike, what resources and industrial base that they still controlled were more than enough to be considered cards to be brought to the table against their former enemies across the table.

A mutual enemy existed within the Deep Core itself, one that had recently announced its ambitious plans of expansion to the galaxy at large. It was evident that were the Alliance to fall, Solipsis would not stop at its former borders. The Sith Lord would likely see to it that the weaker powers of the Galaxy would fall first, then tackle the larger states once the outliers had been subjugated and quelled. Yet together, while there still was time to unite against that common foe, was perhaps the only path that would see to the Alliance and the Diarchy's continued resistance.

Or at least that was the pitch he'd presented to his peers sitting across from his delegation. He had hope that things would proceed as well, given the optimism that followed the initial first-round that preceded the current talks they were having. Marek might've even said that for the first time in months he'd felt like they'd finally secured something they could call a win back home.

Jokingly he thought to himself that the champagne he'd prepared might be rolled out for everyone present soon.

That thought quickly faded into the wind upon the stabbing sound of klaxons winding up across the room, and the Captain's familiar voice intruding within the earbead with an urgent warning to them all.

Solipsis had come once again.

The door to the conference room hissed open as a small group of Alliance personnel intruded with orders to escort the Senators & Head of State of the Diarchy to safety. They were within a vessel that punched above it's weight-class tenfold, and downwards a hundred-fold at the least. Up until now he'd been confident that even the Empire would not try something with the defensive firepower that both the Tython and the Atrisian system would offer.

The Sergeant among them directed the Senator towards the glass on the far side of the room upon being prompted for the short version of why the vessel had erupted into pure chaos. Marek quickly obliged, sensing the anxiety hidden beneath a façade of military professionalism. All it took was one glance for him to understand the terror he could see in the faces of the men behind him, and to add insult to further injury, the security forces were now prompting them all of boarding actions from a currently-unknown force.

"Fething hell.."

Tiber was already fidgeting towards the weapon of the Jedi he kept on his belt, and Marek too would waste no time reaching for the discreet weapon he'd always kept on his person, even during their sessions on Fondor. His gaze moved between the two delegations, darting between them thrice before he settled his eyes towards the door. Some were already moving into the corridors beyond, the few security troopers present being assisted by a young Jedi in escorting the civilians out first.

He paused at the threshold, raising the holdout blaster in a low-ready position as he lingered around to wait for his fellow Senators to follow the lead of the Alliance personnel at the head of their combined group. He raised his voice loud enough for Tiber and the others to hear, cutting through the sounds of blaster fire and warfare echoing off in distant, the sounds creeping ever-so-closer whilst their forces were overwhelmed by the surprise boarding assault.

"Gentleman-- we need to find ourselves a ship. Preferably one located in a hangar which our assailants can't reach before us."

Marek was already moving in the operate direction of the fighting after the words left his lips, moving with a purpose away from the direction the alliance's security forces were charging towards themselves.

Allies: Tiber Septimus Arsenio Tagge Ayra Lowe Diarch Reign Caelus Vire // NIHIL Gavin Vel Ryu Jung Alexandra Feanor

Enemies: Razmir Tezhyn Koda Fett V1-L8 Tohu Nero Drake Velis Arden Thayne Tameron

TLDR; Headin' away from the bulk of the fighting & attempting to convince his fellow diplomats to find the nearest ship to exfil away from the fighting,-- and specifically the Death Star looming in the distance.

 

[Kelly T. Perris]

R O G U E

L E A D E R
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
GHORMAN

[ From Wrath of God: The Imperial March ]

Reaching for the underside of her vambrace, recently outfitted with a hidden uplink, Briana thumbed the pad, sending out a single encrypted burst that'd light up the Underground Network with their coordinates. The ROGUES would be en route within minutes. First task? Solved.

With newsfeeds reporting within the Alliance and repeating beyond its borders about the arrival of Imperial fleet assets above the proud world of Atrisia, and the sudden appearance of dark forces in the streets of its capital, the hangar that played host to the Rogues for the duration of their current ops in the region surrounding Ghorman was already a bustle of expectation ahead of the signal's arrival. There was no way in the nine Corellian hells that they wouldn't be called upon, and called upon they had been.

Rogue was good and ready to ship out... all Leader needed was confirmation beyond a shadow of a doubt, and that was him, Kelly T. Perris, sitting nestled and helmed in his T-91 Vigilant, waiting for that very thing through the encrypted hyperwave link in his own snubfighter's cockpit, waiting to hear from the man who used to be his direct superior in the handful of months since he'd left his Alliance commission behind.

[ From When Stars Go Out — occurring parallel to Annihilation of Atrisia ]

The static cleared into a channel he knew was coming, it was silent, distorted and vague. The clinking meant someone had activated the underground, somebody who seeing as only two people as yet had the button was of vast authority to do so. Rhys sighed and sat before the signal knowing that on the other side Rogue Leader's voice would be waiting.

For a long moment, Rhys couldn't answer. He saw not the glow of the Death Star's maw but a dozen younger memories: late-night runs with the Perris siblings, the grin of a squadron after a hard-earned survival, the camaraderie of those who flew because no one else could. His friends, his family in all but blood, were out there in the dark, about to be asked to fly into the very maw of the Empire itself. And he wasn't with them.

His voice came low, roughened with the weight of everything unsaid, he was unsure if it would translate through the encryptions.
"Rogue Leader, this is Gorne." A pause. Then softer; "Kelly. You have full control. Engage as you see fit. You are clear for any and all targets. Go dark from Republic signals, you will be alone. If you find the opening…" His throat tightened, but the words came anyway. "Destroy that beast and come home."

The channel closed. The light died. Silence returned to the office, emptier than before.

Confirmation never took long, though his leg had been bobbing impatiently, nonetheless: In the frame of time between the signal's arrival after the eruption of Atrisan war news across the Holonet, and the scant minutes between the receipt of it, conferring with his pilots, and his scrambling into the cockpit to contact the Admiral, a massive, moon-shaped thing he'd only heard whispers of had blipped into place over that world, impossible to miss.

<<You got it,>> Perris uttered as the channel became dead air, while swapping over to Rogues' secure internal comms, <<signal is verified, folks: we are go for Atrisia.>> A fact that was disseminated quickly throughout the hangar crew, and passed up through to Ghorman airspace control. <<Let's move out.>>

Four T-91 Vigilants, carrying the expertise and cunning of Four Rogues hovered out and lifted off, swiftly clearing the planet's pull. Path calc provided the route - it'd shave them past Abregado-Rae on the way.

<<Path insertion on my mark: Three.>>

<<Two.>>

<<One.>>

<<Mark.>>

Streaks, blips, then empty space left in their wake.

ENROUTE TO AVS TYTHON
ATRISI SYSTEM, CORE WORLDS
Adjacent to sub-objective "Sword 'Em and Board 'em"
​

Four sleek and stealthy blips reverted at a distance to general vicinity of Alliance forces, and were treated to the sight of more than those fleets gathered in the system. The Rogues were safe from most means of mundane detection — adaptive camo, among other measures baked into the Vigilant — and rolled in slowly to get a bead on the exchanges in progress throughout this mess, data and visual... and there it was, big and imposing, what came of the Project Stardust he'd heard of, between Underground ops. Perris thumbed the secure comms to the other three Rogues, and whistled in mild awe at the sheer size of that 'artificial moon' that'd invited itself into Atrisian airspace along with its friends.

<<Well, ain't this a party,>> he said, flat-like, then going on reiterate one of their most crucial points of operational procedure, while data on the partygoers in the system rolled in, <<you know the drill, Rogues: check in, numbered callsigns only,>> except him, tradition said he had no number, while he glanced at the flags that began to show up on the readout, identifiable parties and not, peering at what he could see with his own two eyes through the viewport for the match-up... and doing a double take at whatever had just violently Tab A'd into Slot B'd with the AVS Tython's hangar. Lead nudged the controls forward.

<<So it begins,>> he'll quip, once the last check-in rolls in, <<Three, get ahold of our 'friends' on the Tython, appears they've been boarded without consent,>> he and Osira had both flown for the Alliance until earlier in the year, and knew Alliance naval protocol, <<let them know we're here to assist. Two, keep a read on that battlemoon, I want to know when it starts acting up.>> And it would. You didn't bring a piece that big to battle if you weren't out to start some serious fuckery. <<Energy spikes and the like. Four,>> last but not least, <<there's a lot of people at this party. Keep an eye out for the ones keen to make themselves our problem - I'll leave first impressions up to your discretion.>>

You could hear the grin in his voice.

DIALOGUE GUIDE
"Speech." // <<Comms>> // <MESSAGES> // [ Thoughts ]

ROGUE SQUADRON
Anders Halak ★ Garrick Silvain ★ Osira Perris
Flying: The T-91 Vigilant Clandestine Snubfighter

SHADOW SQUADRON
Artam Macek ✴ Innis Tarring ✴ SCAR ✴ Soontir Barvel

AVS TYTHON
Alexandra Feanor ⍟ Arsenio Tagge ⍟ Marek Bancroft ⍟ Tiber Septimus ⍟ and others

​

 

[Velis Arden]

---

---

Atrisia, Core Worlds;
Black Sun Syndicate, 'The AVS Tython Heist'.
Enemies: Alexandra Feanor | Tiber Septimus | Marek Bancroft | Caelus Vire // NIHIL | Gavin Vel | Ryu Jung | Ayra Lowe | Arsenio Tagge | Diarch Reign
Allies: V1-L8 | Koda Fett | Razmir Tezhyn | Tohu | IG-44 | Mauve du Vain | Nero Drake | Thayne Tameron | Skeevi Merrill |

---

​

OBJECTIVE II.

"If you die, my cut becomes bigger."

Bastard.

"Do as you're told... And you might just live."

"Seen a lot of junk out here. Never seen that..."

Velis gave Koda a sarcastic thumb's up from the back of the shuttle. It would be the last time she got to be playful for she was about to enter into another world of poodoo with the galaxy's best Bounty Hunter. When 'Booster Bill' spoke (blowing a plume of stinking t'bac smoke in her direction) Velis wrinkled her nose at the smell, coughed and turned to look outside the port window.

"What the feth is that?" she murmured to herself as the Albino looked upon the catastrophic, deadly amalgamation of dark-side power and machine that is the third, legendary Death Star.

Stop Do chatting Uba horrible bastards. Hahahahaha. They just shot Bilker's shuttle. Hahahaha. Jee Tinka they are all dead!

The shuttle craft containing Koda, Velis, Tohu and an arrangement of other criminal agents of the dreaded Black Sun Syndicate continued on it's trajectory towards the AVS Tython. It would do well not to join the unfortunate 'Bilker' who just met a tragic end and the other craft falling under assault by the Alliance forces as they mobilized to protect their ship. Velis turned to grab hold of the nearest thing she could find to keep herself standing as the shuttle shook and groaned around her as it ploughed ahead. Luck was on their side, it seemed. Didn't the Jedi coin the phrase, "The Force is with us?"

What did it say about the Force that this band of villains were about to rob and plunder this behemoth of a ship?

As the ship continued to shake Velis felt like that if she was to trip over and fall down then she wasn't going to get back up. Not with these people she could call friend, or associate. Nobody was going to help her back onto her feet. One thing was certain in the Syndicate: in the end everyone is for themselves. No loyalty, or friendship, and if you thought you had either, then you were deluded and not for a long life in the criminal underworld.

Velis found out about that the hard way after Coruscant.

Scrambling marine forces flooded in to repel the assault, with the shuttle ramps lowering and a horde of criminals spilling out onto the hangar floor.

A shot pinged off of Fett's breastplate, careening off into an Aqualish beside him. He rushed out of the ramp, shooting at the defenders.

Velis was doing what she was told. Not that she had time to think about it. Didn't she keep behind Fett last time, in the Jedi Temple, only to get shot? He was partially the reason why the Albino was in debt back on Nar Shaddaa now. Medical expenses were, obviously, expensive and she owed the Syndicate for the cost. Perhaps for life. Still, someone braver than her would have demanded that he give her part of his cut for this job (to pay back for not giving her adequate protection on Coruscant) but this was Koda Fett we are talking about.

It was far more likely Unc would give you a slap, and that was if you were lucky.

"Sorry!" Velis exclaimed as the Aqualish got dropped from a bullet that was meant for her, and luckily for Velis, blocked by the strongest armour in the known Galaxy. Koda was so cool. As the Bounty Hunter led the way into the AVS Tython, amid the gunfighting and chaos in the hangar bay, Velis kept herself small behind Fett's indomitable, inevitable body cladded in beskar'gam-- a rat that had just made her way into the bowels of the ship armed with the knowledge and expertise to slice the flagship apart until it was served up to Velzari Tharn for a big pot of credits.

---

 

[Wedge Draav]

ATRISI SPACE

​

"You lived and died alone, especially in fighters. Fighters. Somehow, despite everything, that word had not become sterile. You slipped into the hollow cockpit and strapped and plugged yourself into the machine. The canopy ground shut and sealed you off. Your oxygen, your very breath, you carried into the chilled vacuum, in a steel bottle."

Go time

ROGUE SQUADRON:
Osira Perris l Kelly T. Perris l Anders Halak l Garrick Silvain

ENEMY FIGHTERS:
SCAR l Soontir Barvel l Innis Tarring​

Wedge Draav, was not often a man of doubts. But- when he did, they were great, they were many. He looked up at the streaks of light from the hangar, the void of space beyond the energy field that kept the atmosphere in. He held his helmet in his hands, tightly staring into space. Tucked into the helmet was a picture of his wife-to-be, Reima Vitalis . She was upset, in a way, that he was here- but she knew what kind of man Wedge was. And Wedge was not a man to miss this fight. No, the death throes of the Alliance were coming, undoubtedly. But he had one more chance to face his greatest foe- The Empire. He had known many in his lifetime, often without equal. But the Empire was a threat like no other. It was, without equal in terms of the threat it posed to the galaxy. The danger had gone ignored, and the Alliance too weak and complacent since their victory at Coruscant to consider the possibilities.

Now, the Empire resurgent, had something in possession that was beyond Wedge's comprehension of destruction. He could read the intelligence reports, and the Empire's reported propaganda, of it's destructive capability. But he could not comprehend in his deepest mind the scope of that damage. The only true destruction he had seen in-person was Tython- but that was a planet marred by conflict, burnt at the surface. This weapon that he was looking at-

Could remove entire planets from the equation. He was but one man, one fighter pilot in a sea of many. How was he to fight that? The Empire took away the mystical power of the Jedi with their mechanical monstrosity, a planet-killing machine. And protecting it, a massive enemy fleet. The Empire did not come to make any other statement other than that they were the most powerful now. Wedge's eyes went downward, towards the floor. A small sense of defeatism washed over him.

He looked inside his helmet. A picture of him and Reima on Naboo. When they were first together, before all of this. After Coruscant, Wedge believed that the Alliances greatest foe were bickering Senators, the rumblings of budget committees and the threat of reelection. But they grew less fearsome, and by that, the enemies of the Alliance gathered. The Mandalorian Empire played the Alliance for a fool and Wedge paid the price. Now they were on the enemy's dime and fighting for them. Wedge's prediction had unfortunately, come to pass.

But he could not have predicted this.

The Sith, the Empire, and the Alliance, fighting for control and to stay alive.

He took a deep breath, wondering if he should climb into the cockpit. They didn't need him. Not anymore. His black X-wing lay behind him, fueled, cleaned, ready for flight. He walked over, running a gloved hand along the hull. Marks of TIE fighters lay on the left side of his ship- well over four dozen fighter-to-fighter kills. He was a boogeyman to the enemies of the Alliance that took to the skies and stars to defy and to conquer them. He knew that much. He'd been told as much. The man who took on the Crimson Liners- and destroyed them. The man who defended Tython, defended Coruscant.

The Commander of Revenant Squadron.

With all his medals, achievements and superlatives- all of those paled in comparison, came up short and wanting when he looked on that awful machine. But maybe that was the point. Maybe it didn't take one of him. It was going to take a lot of Wedge Draavs to fight the Empire. To stave off damnation and ruin. The Empire operated on the basis that no one was either willing or strong enough to stand up to them. And maybe Wedge would lose the battle today. Maybe he'd even die. But he had to fight. Because if he didn't fight, the Empire was that much stronger, had however many more fighters in the skies. More ships, more ways to enact terror.

Wedge slipped his helmet over his head, climbing quickly into the cockpit. He hesitated for just a moment, taking a deep breath before pulling it down over him. His X-wing's cockpit came alight, and the flight pre-checks were conducted quickly, per procedure and with little fanfare. There wasn't any joyous celebration or wishes of good luck from the ground crews. A nervous energy permeated the air, even over the comms. He wasn't supposed to be here, maybe. He may have only been technically re-instated. And maybe, he had lied a few times to get onto the Alliance fleet. And he hadn't been assigned a squadron- only a call sign.

Revenant-Six.

He came down hard on the throttle, jetting out of the hangar of the Destroyer with lightning efficiency and recklessness. His black X-wing, black as the space beyond it- screeched across, only a faint dulled orange accent on the exterior marking it as him. His IFF tag flickered to life, finally. On the viewfinders and radar screens, it was simple. REV6. He had joined the fighter. And out of the space above them- his black X-wing screeched, faster than most thought they could push their X-wing, right in front of Rogue's formation. He smirked, before pulling up sharply on the stick, banking right and up, coming underneath a TIE fighter.

Splash one. His guns barked, firing in sequence, deadly accurate at this range. The TIE fighter probably didn't know what hit it, and simply died instantly. A good way to go, if Wedge had to argue. His head turned towards the friendly lines, an exchange of laser fire meant that the Alliance was still in the fight. He pulled his oxygen mask over his face. True, it wasn't necessary like it was in atmosphere- G-forces planet-side meant that it was harder to breathe, thus the mask. But Wedge liked it because it kept him focused, cool air, fresh air was better than breathing the stuffy air of his cockpit. One less discomfort.

He turned his head back to the front, engaging another enemy fighter formation from their rear axis. He hit the right rear and the front TIE, sending them both spiraling, one damaged beyond their capability to fight, and one dead. The third banked off hard and went to circle back to friendly lines for more support. He turned his head back to the enemy, and for the first time in a while, realized the scale of the enemy he was facing. Where he shot down three in just a mere moments- thousands more lie in wait.

Wedge could help the twinge of fear that crawled up his spine.

Was this it? For him? For the Alliance?

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
OBJECTIVE II: ACROSS THE STARS
ORBITING ATRISIA

"Move out!"

The convoy of battlecruisers and Star Destroyers began dutifully charging toward the enemy position, as the Von Strauss-class cargo ships and their escorts made a beeline for the planet's surface. Admiral Zonill had been banking on the fact that the opposing Empire forces would chase down the fleeing landing ships, as such vessels were far to valuable a prize to let escaped unmolested.

Unfortunately for him, it seemed that the Empire had other plans.

"It seems the enemy is holding their position", Captain Sellferr remarked glumly as the Conqueror's Bane continued to move at speed. It was followed closely behind by the Bastion, Starhammer and Silent Watcher, in a textbook Ackbar Slash. The size and bulk of the Conqueror's Bane would allow it to shield the other vessel's in Zonill's fleet from incoming enemy fire, though that also meant that his flagship would now be taking the brunt of any attack by the Empire forces.

"Blast!", Zonill cursed as he began to reassess his situation. It seemed that his initial hunch was correct in that the Empire had overcommitted its resources toward the Death Star, leading to a scarcity of ships with which to take on his forces. Zonill had though that his enemy would have made their move by now and sent some or all of their vessels toward his cargo ships to escape in the incoming onslaught, but he had thought wrong.

Apparently, the Empire was content to allow him to land unopposed. A massive boon for him and the remnant to be sure, but now that also meant his initial plan of attack wasn't going to work out in the way that he wanted it to. Worse still, the Empire could just be laying a trap for him, waiting for him to pull back the cargo ship's escorts and then ambush them as they tried to land on the planet undefended.

"Captain, order all our vessels to continue current courses, though I want the Pillager to pull back and join our attack on the main Empire Fleet. The rest of the escorting ships will protect the Von Strausses until they breach upper atmosphere, after which they will rejoin our main assault. The planet's defenses should provide sufficient protection once the cargo ships have moved in far enough."

"Understood, Admiral", Captain Sellferr replied as he relayed the orders. Suddenly, alarms began blaring from the ship's sensor array.

"Incoming missiles!", Sellferr cried out as he looked over the various holoprojectors lining the command console of the Conqueror's Bane. "Wait...they're aren't being fired at us! Our allies are engaging the Empire forces!"

A barrage of missiles streaked passed the Mahporeem Fleet and head straight toward the Empire's formation. Considering that they were holding their position, they might as well have been sitting Porgs. But, it seemed that such a seemingly tactical blunder had been done by design, as many of the missiles exploded prematurely, never even reaching the opposing Empire forces.

"ECM", Zonill remarked disappointedly. "Looks like those vessels are-"

He was cut off by the sounds of muffled explosions as some of the deactivated missiles impacted agains the hull of the Conqueror's Bane, causing the ship's shielding to flare as it attempted to mitigate the damage.

"So that's how they want to play it, huh? They're certainly clever, I'll give them that", Zonill remarked dryly as the Conqueror's Bane began evasive maneuvers throughout the impromptu minefield. Considering how large his ship was, trying to avoid taking any damage would be difficult at best and nearly impossible at worst. Luckly, Zonill had a solution.

"Captain, I want all remaining TIE Vultures launched. Have them intercept any mines in their path", Zonill ordered. Captain Sellferr complied, and the remaining TIE Vultures began streaming out of the Conqueror's Bane, promptly crashing themselves into any mines that threatened Zonill's fleet. While such actions helped to preserve the integrity of his battle line, it did mean that he was down three squadrons of the droid fighters before he even made contact with the enemy.

The remaining TIE Vultures and STX-TIEs continued to advance toward the enemy fleet, escorting the Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators toward the enemy cruisers. Though Zonill only had a limited number of the gunships, each vessel carried considerable firepower with it, enough to disable or damage the heavy cruisers of the Empire.

"The TIE Vultures are to prioritize the gunships over themselves, even if it means they have to sacrifice themselves in the process. The STX-TIEs will continue to screen for enemy fighters", Zonill reminded Sellferr as hordes of fighters made their way toward the enemy.

Zonill was then nearly thrown out of his seat as the Conqueror's Bane shook violently. They were being targeted by something big, and something that Zonill did not recognize.

"We're losing shields!", Sellferr yelled out in alarm. "Something is draining our shields at an alarming rate, and I can't tell what it is!"

"Calm yourself, Sellferr!", Zonill stated authoritatively. "What about hull integrity?"

"Still holding, but it won't be for much longer!". Sellferr replied in alarm as mass driver fire began hitting the Conqueror's Bane. Between that and the heavy turbolaser's on the enemy cruisers, Zonill formation would be broken apart before they were able to close the distance.

"Very well, Captain. I think it's about time we responded with some firepower of our own. I want our Plasma Cannon to fire upon the largest vessel in their fleet, at half volley. Make it snappy!", Zonill ordered.

"Understood, Admiral. Firing main Plasma Cannon!"

The Conqueror's Bane let out a volley of plasma missiles, two at a time, toward the largest vessel in the enemy fleet. Considering they had just popped electronic countermeasures against the previous missile barrage, Zonill was confident that his missiles might have just a bit more effect on the enemy targets...

TAGS:
Marlon Sularen
Karl Von Strauss
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory
Odria Kaelthron
Domaric Mordane
EMPIRE FORCES
​

---

---

---

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• 1 Heimdall-Class Fast Battlecruiser
  • 4 squadrons of TIE Vultures
  • 4 squadrons of STX-TIEs
  • 2 squadrons of Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators
• 2 Imperial I-class Star Destroyers
  • 5 squadrons of TIE Vultures
  • 5 squadrons of STX-TIEs
  • 2 squadrons of Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators
• 1 Vilifier-class Star Destroyer
  • 7 squadrons of AX-Wings
  • 2 squadrons of Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators
• 4 Impressor-class Acclamators
  • 4 squadrons of Eightgun-class Assault Fighters
  • 4 squadrons of NZ TIE/sb Strike Bombers
• 4 Loki-Class Fast Corvettes
• 3 Von Strauss-class cargo ships
  • 12 squadrons of NCE-131/c Heavy Dropships "Stork"

Spoiler: Summary

1. Admiral Zonill arrives over Atrisia with his fleet.​
2. Zonill internally monologues a bit about his fleet for some odd reason.​
3. Zonill contacts Sularen, declaring he is ready to begin landing troops on the planet.​
4. Supreme Commander Sularen gives Zonill permission to begin landing operations.​
5. Zonill marvels at the imposing sight of the Death Star.​
6. The Empire makes a final attempt to contact Zonill, but he chooses to ignore it.​
7. Zonill orders a full sensor scan of the enemy fleet and the calculation of targeting vectors.​
8. Zonill splits his fleet into two groups. The first group, consisting of his heaviest warships, begin making their way toward the Empire's position while the rest of the fleet begins to escort the cargo ships toward Atrisia. Two of Zonill's Star Destroyers launch their fighter and support craft toward the enemy.​
9. The main battlegroup continues toward the enemy fleet as one of Zonill's Acclamators breaks off to support them. The rest of the ships continue toward the planet.​
10. Zonill had his TIE Vulture's deliberately intercept any missiles that failed to explode against the Empire's forces.​
11. Zonill has his gunships engage the heavy cruisers.​
12. The Conqueror's Bane is hit by some sort of shield draining weapon. Zonill responds with heavy plasma torpedo fire toward the largest ship in the Empire's fleet.​

Spoiler: Causalties

• 60 TIE Vultures destroyed
• 8 STX-TIEs destroyed
• The Conqueror's Bane takes significant shield damage

​

 

[Nyles Kote]

​

Friendly Units:
NF-01 Nano-flares loaded in countermeasure launchers formation wide.

• SB-01 Darasuum Morut-class Super-heavy Battlecarrier Darasuum Morut (flagship) 100 | 100

Subvessels

• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Solus 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika T'ad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Ehn 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Cuir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Rayshe'a 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Resol 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika E'tad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Morut Me'sen'ika Sh'ehn 100 | 100

• HB-01 Adenn Kyr'am-class Heavy Battlecarrier Gra'tua 100 | 100

Subvessels

• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika Solus 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika T'ad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika Ehn 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika Cuir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika Rayshe'a 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Gra'tua Me'sen'ika Resol 100 | 100

• HB-01 Adenn Kyr'am-class Heavy Battlecarrier Verdyc 100 | 100

Subvessels

• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika Solus 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika T'ad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika Ehn 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika Cuir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika Rayshe'a 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Verdyc Me'sen'ika Resol 100 | 100

• B-02 Ara'novor-class Battlecarrier Ara'novor 100 | 100

Subvessels

• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika Solus 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika T'ad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika Ehn 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika Cuir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika Rayshe'a 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Ara'novor Me'sen'ika Resol 100 | 100

• B-02 Ara'novor-class Battlecarrier Burenaar Ga'yaim 100 | 100

Subvessels

• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika Solus 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika T'ad 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika Ehn 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika Cuir 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika Rayshe'a 100 | 100
• HC-03M Kyramud-class Heavy Multi-role Corvette Burenaar Ga'yaim Me'sen'ika Resol 100 | 100

• HMB-01M Tracyn'buurenaar-class Heavy Missile Battlecruiser Tracyn'buurenaar 100 | 100
• HMB-01M Tracyn'buurenaar-class Heavy Missile Battlecruiser Buurenaar b' Surhaai 100 | 100

Units in Reserve: The entire might of Strill Securities' naval assets. All too far to respond.

Ally Tag(s): Domaric Mordane | Odria Kaelthron | Zethran Cott | Aldo Garrick | Remus Adair

Enemy Tag(s): Marlon Sularen | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | ADM. Reshmar | Solan Charr

Equipment

Armor Implant(s) Equipment Melee Sidearm(s) Rifle(s) Explosives

• 
  
  • 'Mirshir'verd'jurkad'gam'
    • Equipment Mount: Ysalamiri Birikad.
    • Back Weapon Mount: A-03S Verpine Shatter Autocannon
      
      • GVSR-SAMR Guided APFSDS Magazine (1)
      • GVSR-HEIAPAMR Guided HEIAP Magazine (1 loaded, 1 spare)
      • GVSR-FAMR Guided Flechette Magazine (1)
    • Right Gauntlet and Vambrace: 'Verd b' Marev' Gauntlet and Vambrace
      
      • Weapon Mounts:
        
        • Left:
          
          • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
        • Top:
          
          • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
            
            • Tracyn'vhipir-class Brilliant Plasma Missile (4)
            • Striilir'ika-M-class Brilliant Micro-missile (Baradium) (4)
        • Right:
          
          • PC-05V Plasma Caster
            
            • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • Left Gauntlet and Vambrace: 'Verd b' Surhaai' Gauntlet and Vambrace
      
      • Weapon Mounts:
        Left:
        
        • NML-02VTB Nano missile Launcher
        • Top:
          
          • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
            
            • Tracyn'vhipir-class Brilliant Plasma Missile (4)
            • Striilir'ika-M-class Brilliant Micro-missile (Baradium) (4)
        • Right:
          
          • CP-03V CryoBan Projector
            
            • CryoBan Cannister (1)
    • Utility Belt Loadout:
      
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Ammunition Pouches
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Grenade Pouches
      • Hardcase Large Satchel
      • Softcase Large Storage Pouches (dump pouch)
      • Magnetic Clamp
    • Load-bearing Rig Loadout:
      
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Ammunition Pouches
      • Hardcase Spring-loaded Grenade Pouches
      • Central Secondary High Capacity Rylith Power Cell
      • Medium and Large Gription Panels
    • Holster Setup:
      
      • 1x chest-rig mounted
      • 2x belt-mounted
      • 1x thigh mounted (dominant hand side)
• 
  
  • 'Agol'ja'had'-R Medical Implant System
  • 'Ori'aal'briik' Nervous System Enhancer
  • 'Nejah Oya'karur' Full-spectrum Immunity Booster
  • 'Sur'haai Haata'got' Optical Cyberware Interface
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• 
  
  • 'Shushai Rugam' Sensor Sphere (1)
• 
  
  • K-04 Skirata Ehn-ky'kal Kal (2)
  • K-03 Kal(1)
• 
  
  • RP-05A Ripper Pistol
    
    • 'Kyrayc Sur'haai'-M 1-4x Short Range Optic
    • 'Drala Sur'haai' Targeting Laser/Illuminator
    • Ammunition:
      
      • GRR-APP Guided Armor-Piercing Magazine (1 loaded, 2 spare)
      • GRR-FR Guided Flechette Magazine (3)
• 
  
  • RR-04B Ripper Rifle
    
    • 'Kyrayc Sur'haai'-M 1-12x Medium Range Optic
    • 'Drala Sur'haai' Targeting Laser/Illuminator
    • UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
      
      • Ammunition:
        
        • BG-02 Baradium Grenade (1 in the chanmber, 5 in the tube)
    • Ammunition:
      
      • GRR-APR Guided Guided SLAP Magazine (1 loaded, 2 spare)
      • GRR-FR Guided Flechette Magazine (3)
• 
  
  • BG-02 Baradium Grenade (4)​
  • SJG-02 Signal Jammer Grenade (2)​
  • NGG-02 Nagnol Gas Grenade (2)​
  • AWCGG-02 Anti-Energy Weapon Countermeasure Gas Grenade (2)​

[/slide]

The Galactic shabla Empire, who'd have thought it would have come to this? Working for the Imps. This was twice now the Alor had made a deal with the devil. Dar'jetii-led Empires were one thing, but Jetii-led Empires was another thing entirely. They weren't going to make a lot of friends with this, but as far as clients went, the Empire wasn't the worst. Especially when you considered the other choices. Of course there was a time when he believed the best choice was the Alliance, but given they were backing these would be Jetii dictators, and given how they'd been insulted even after helping them after the last battle of Coruscant, he'd quickly come to his senses on that front.

Whatever the shab was going on here, however, was apparently attracting every other shabuir out there. This ritual or whatever other osik this was supposed to be was apparently going to affect them all. Which was precisely why he'd sent in RP-01S 'Sur'ulur' Recon Probes, three of them, ahead of his formation to identify just how many shabuire there were. Other than their clients, it seemed the galaxy's who's who of shabuire had shown up. The probes were proofed against force based detection and were equipped with some of the best stealth tech the galaxy had to offer, not that believed that in the chaos of battle anyone was really going to be paying attention to anything that was as far out from the battle as the probes were sitting at the edge of their maximum detection range.

Nyles' ships were not systems out, however. They were just about on the last legs of a low-observability jump into the Atrisi system. This was essentially going to let them translate into the system without tripping off any advance warning systems on Atrisia or in the enemy fleets around the planet. Provided of course there were no leaps in hyperspace detection technology that he was not aware of. That of course was not a farfetched concept, he tried to stay aware of new developments, but every major power and most minor powers had their secrets. The only question was, which were worth investing effort into bringing into the light.

The data coming in from the probes was real time, populating the 'Manda' battlenet display on the bridge of his ship with up-to-date data. The 'Manda' battlenet systems in the formation were already computing the data coming in from the probes, plotting point-defense avoidance trajectories and optimizing electronic warfare deployment methods. Of course, the probes were no replacement for the full sensor suite of a warship, but they were a lot better than dropping in blind.

The main batteries on his ships were pre-charging, projections showed they would be charged by the time the fleet translated out of hyperspace. Their objective was clear, their client was pretty clear about target priority of high value targets, and as much as he'd love to show the Alliance how little he cared about their expensive toy, the probes had identified Imperial Confederation IFFs confirmed by Galactic Empire intelligence to belong to Marlon Sularen 's flagship. Sularen had slipped away several times before, Nyles was not going to let there be another time if he could help it, especially when the Empire was willing to pay extra for just such an outcome.

Summary

• Three RP-01S 'Sur'ulur' Recon Probes have been deployed ahead of the formation to provide initial battlefield reconnaissance.
• The formation is translating out using the low-observability mode of their 'Ori'karbakar' Advanced Hyperdrive-Navicomputer Module to avoid setting off gemcutters, reversion sensors and the like (ideally).

 

[Diarch Reign]

​

Location: AVS-Tython | Conference Room
Tags: Allies: Gavin Vel Ryu Jung Alexandra Feanor Tiber Septimus Arsenio Tagge Ayra Lowe Marek Bancroft Caelus Vire // NIHIL
Enemies: Razmir Tezhyn Koda Fett V1-L8 Tohu Nero Drake Velis Arden Thayne Tameron Mauve du Vain Skeevi Merrill
Gear: Amulet of the Warden's Eye, Bladefather

---

Alarms blared, the sound of blaster fire echoed in the hallways, and through this all, Reign smiled. He was here to play diplomat yes, but at his heart he was a warrior, he lived for the thrill of battle. So when the security officers arrived bring tell of a boarding party, Reign was thrilled.

Standing slowly, he motioned to his two apprentices calling them forward. As the two black clad young men approached, the Diarch turned back to the gathered senators.

"Allow me to introduce Gavin Vel"

He said, motioning to the giant beside him

"And Ryu Jung"

As he motioned to his first crucible apprentice

"No matter what this empire throws at you, these two will keep you safe as we make our escape. Think of it as a gesture of.. friendship"

With that, the Diarch unclipped his black and gold lightsaber hilt from his belt and with the all to familiar snap-hiss, his newly reforged lightsaber sprang to life.

Where once the blade was a blood-orange, it now took on the appearance of molten bronze, giving the Diarch the air of regality more so than the vicious warrior he once portrayed.

As the blast doors blew open, there stood a small unit of what Reign could only assume were pirates and bounty hunters. Their apparent leader seeming to look hungrily at the assembly gathered. And for good reason Reign figured, there were Jedi, Senators, and at least one head of state gathered together in a room.

But this was no group of cowards.

However, before Reign could attack the pirates attention seemed to be diverted elsewhere..

Stepping into the hallway, Reign batted back blaster bolts as they cruised his way, dropping some of the advancing mercenaries.

Hearing Senator Bancroft's words he spoke like he would to a friend, seeming to have no fear or tension from the battle.

"Assuming these pirates haven't circled their way around us. We're with you, let's go"




OOC NOTE: TOHU and AYRA are going to go at it, but I didn't want to assume anything from either of their posts, if any edits are necessary please let me know!

 

[Nero Drake]

TYTHON HANGAR
ATRISI SYSTEM
Koda Fett Velis Arden Tohu Mauve du Vain Skeevi Merrill
Marek Bancroft Tiber Septimus Diarch Reign Gavin Vel Caelus Vire // NIHIL Ryu Jung Ayra Lowe

"Take what you can! Give nothing back!"

Black Sun paid for their landing in blood. Enforcers screamed in pain clutching mortal scorch wounds. Nero had the same idea as Velis following close behind a reprogrammed battle droid ranting about bones. Blasts pinged off the machine's exoskeleton and the pirate leaned out to blast Alliance troopers with his bryar pistol before ducking again behind bipedal cover.

"Nice shooting, gunmetal!" he shouted at V1-L8 even though the droid could probably hear him fine, "But we've got a job to do! Where's the loot?"

There must be some kind of fancy sensor package somewhere in that droid brain. Nero took a break from picking off distracted soldiers to pull out his comlink.

"Fett!" Nero turned and blasted a brave fool mid-charge at point blank range, "We need to get the hell out of here!"

Without waiting to see if the droid would follow or if they were too focused on creating as much mayhem in the hangar as possible Nero made a dash for the nearest way out. Some of the Black Sun boarders followed him and most were cut down but the first mate and a few others somehow emerged with only minor wounds.

 

[Ayra Lowe]

​

// Padawan Lowe //
// ANS-Tython
// Objective // Protect //
// Focus //
/// Allies /// Alexandra Feanor // Tiber Septimus // Marek Bancroft // Caelus Vire // NIHIL // Gavin Vel // Ryu Jung //
/// Enemies /// V1-L8 // Koda Fett // Razmir Tezhyn // Tohu CATCH THESE HANDS // Velis Arden // IG-44 // Mauve du Vain // Nero Drake //

---

---

It hadn't taken long for the assailants to barge their way into the belly of the Tython, their passion empowered by their sheer numbers. The Jedi held position outside of the negotiating chambers, their eyes watching the approach of the countless star destroyers pressing forward above Atrisia.

An explosion pulled the attention of the group down the hall, the durasteel door popped off its hinges and flung across the room with violent force. A man stepped through, blade by his side as he eyed the group down, taking in his targets. Other fighters flood past the man, their shots aiming to cut down the Jedi.

Fingers tightened around the girl's lightsaber as she moved forward, her resolve steeled by the training received during the Jedi summit on Eshan. The people attacking them weren't imperials, but a mishmash of scum and thugs. Black Sun.

A hand lifted a wiped a path in front of her, pulling smoke in front of the assailants to hide her approach as she ignited her pale blue lightsaber. The blade wound back and was thrown to where the ringleader had been, hoping to take out the man before he pushed forward to the Senators still making their escape.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Allies
SO Srina Talon Revna Marr Madrona A’Mia Darth Caedes Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Haro Aven Naamino Zuukamano
ME Domina Prime Korda Veydran Renn Vizsla Aselia Verd Aether Verd

Location: Horuset System (Near the Korriban Side of the Blackwall)​

---

For a moment, Lina was not just herself, she was all of them. The icy steel of her Empress, the calm authority of the King of Korriban, the immovable Hound, the sharp effortless grace of the Lord Seer and the ever watchful eyes of the soon-to-be crowned Queen of Korriban. There was another, one she was not familiar with, quiet but steadfast and lacking the sharp taint that the other bore. A mandalorian? Interesting.

There was no time to dig deeper as the power flowed through them, dark black veins spidered out from Lina’s eyes, her head tilting as the portal stretched and stabilised, granting them passage. Lina released her staff, the magic holding it in place as it hummed with the vibrations in the force. It yearned for the price to be paid and she would pay it, in due course.

She moved silently closer to the viewport as the ship began to glide forwards, bathing them in light of the blackwalls storm before giving way to the wide maw of space once more granting them their first view of the fight ahead. The stars were littered with enemies and allies alike, but nothing compared to the dominating sphere above Atrisia.

Lina exhaled a soft sigh of disappointment.

“They could have shown a little imagination.” she said with a small smile “I bet they haven’t even changed it’s name…”

She turned back to the others, her gaze sweeping over the Mandalorians as their priest called out to them. They were more religious than she remembered, but then she had seen them before their world was shredded by Carnifex and their people had been scattered. She could imagine that genocide might make one turn to gods. They and whoever else was boarding would be perfect vessels.

Moving back to the group, she locked eyes with A’Mia, understanding passing between them before she addressed the others. “The Lord Seer and I will remain upon the Eidolon as overseers. We can do the most damage with our spells from here. Although, I will need souls,” she extended a hand, the staff snapping back to it as she pulled a glove free with her teeth, tucking it into her belt she found the sharp edge of a rune and split the skin on her palm. Crimson pooled in her palm before lifting of its own will and splitting into a dozen different droplets, they flicked away from her, each finding their mark in a different shadow.

"Kinisirsa, dradzia is Chhaosas, satyi ki. Dziri dzis ki," her voice came not from her, but from beyond the veil as the shadows twisted and distorted from each of them rising a beast formed of shadow, nearing three meters in height they turned their lamp like gaze towards Lina, snarling in response to her call.

"Ati na ki tis, dishi ir ani hadzuska, zudyti wisa diu ru unsin ri. Nisosûti ki ani arika.

A roar rose from them, before they sank back merging with the shadows hidden save for the sharpest eyes. But who would care about a misshapen shadow when the person who cast it, would be their prime concern. content with her handy work, she inclined her head to the Empress and stepped back allowing them all to move.


[Exiting Chapter 2 With Group (Across the Stars) to Engage in Chapter 3 (Clash of Destiny)]

 

[ADM. Reshmar]

Hyperspace
Near Atrisia System
Command Cruiser Reef Home​

Reshmar looked at the holoimage of the group's formations as the ships traversed hyperspace. Ahead of him on the forward display, the image of the blue and white starlines of hyperspace filled the screen. Reshmar looked up at the countdown scrolling across the top of the display. Twelve minutes till reversion he said to himself. Hr looked once again at the formation of ships in the group. Mon Mothma sat at the head of he battlegroup with her escorts formed up around her. Behind the massed force sat the 3rd fleet group, formed into its chevron pattern. “They look awfully tight,” said the Reef Homes captain. “It looks like they are expecting to us the Mon Mothma's shield shadow,” continued the captain. Reshmar nodded slightly and made a throaty chuff. “I gathered the same. They hope to drive forward, then pounce on whatever this secretive weapon is. Knowing the Empire they will not make it easy for Mon Mothma,” said Reshmar. The captain stood silent for a moment, then spoke again. “What are your plans for when we arrive?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the hologram. Reshmar thought about the question a moment before answering him. “I will wait to hear from Mon Mothma and will deploy from there. Whatever the tactical situation is we will adjust. First we need to see what it is the Galactic Empire has come up with for us to face,” replied Reshmar. The two remained silent for a moment, looking at the hologram. The massive ship would be at the front and would like the rest of her group and Reshmars group to her sensors. Reshmar would analyze that data and see what Mon Mothma was going to do before he made any certain plans for deployment.

The counter was down to two minutes when Reshmar spoke again. “It is time Captain” said Reshmar as he opened a channel to his ships. "This is Admiral Reshmar, set condition one across the fleet. Ready all wings for deployment, and once we are in the system, launch all Caps immediately. I will address the fleet once I have seen the tactical situation and made a battle plan. Reshmar out,” said Reshmar as he closed the channel. The hyperspace timer began counting down from sixty seconds as the combined forces of the 10th and 3rd neared the system.

The massive form of Mon Mothma reverted from hyperspace with a flash of blue light. Alongside and behind her, he battlegroup was snugly awaiting battle. Reshmar watched the blue of hyperspace turn into the dark background of space lighting up by the world in the distance. The holo display began creating an image of the system and all of the bodies in it. Slowly icon after icon began to activate, giving the allegiance, size, and threat assessment of all of the ships, attack craft, and orbital installations in the system. As the hologram filled in an officer at the tactical station spoke.

“What the feek is that!” This drew many of the officers of the command deck to the forward view screen as the image of the massive construct became visible. Reshmar looked from the holo display to the screen and, for a moment, was overtaken by horror. He knew what this was. He had seen archive video aboard the old independence cruiser of the monstrosity he now looked upon. A weapon so horrific it had never had an equal since the old Galactic Empire created it. Reshmar broke himself out of his thoughts and opened a channel to his fleet. “This is Admiral Reshmar, It's a trap!”

Solan Charr
Karl Von Strauss
Marlon Sularen
Ronhar Tane
Shuklaar Kyrdol
Domaric Mordane
Zethran Cott
Odria Kaelthron
Aldo Garrick
Remus Adair

 

[Osira Perris]

R O G U E T H R E E
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
GHORMAN
​

The hangar smelled of coolant and sweat, a hint of caf that burned down to sludge hours ago sat just at the edge of the nose. Everywhere the whine of plasma tools and the clank of hydrospanners echoed between rows of sleek Vigilants being tuned for the next mission, it was the never ending musical song of Rogue Squadron, fly, flight, fix. Only thing different then normal was the Rogues hadn’t started pacing, not yet anyway. Everyone in the space knew the call was coming. The Galactic Alliance channels were lit like a life day tree and that meant Naboo would be looking how to help off the record so it was only a matter of when.

Osira sat perched on a crate like a queen without a throne, sabacc cards fanned in one hand, her boots kicked up on the dome of an astromech that had finally stopped protesting. Across from her, a grease-smeared tech rubbed his temples as she laid down her hand with a grin sharp enough to cut glass.

“You’re cheating,” he muttered, for the third time.

“Cheating?” Osira said with mock offense, tapping the droid’s dome with her heel. “If I was cheating you wouldn’t be wearing them boots. Some of us are just born lucky.” She leaned forward, her braid sliding off her shoulder. “Face it, you knew you were gonna lose the second you sat down, the least you could do is act surprised.”

A ripple of laughter moved through the deck crew, it was genuine and well spirited, capturing the moral of the group. The happy relaxation however would never be allowed to last, when the encrypted alert cut through the hangar the mood dropped and quickly settled into alert listening. Conversations died, tools stilled, even the droids went quiet. Kelly Perris’ voice rolled into every helmet and every chest like a punch “Signal verified. We are go for Atrisia.”

The smile never left Osira’s face, but its angle shifted from the young joker to that of a predator. She swept her cards off the crate, snapped her chest seals shut with practiced precision, and slid off the crate in one liquid motion.

“Guess I won’t get to bankrupt you today,” she tossed over her shoulder, already scaling the access ladder for her Vigilant. The astromech gave a chirp that almost sounded like relief as it rolled next to the engineer who had also moved to disconnect the landing lock of the ship. The canopy hissed almost as instantaneous with her sitting into her chair, closing over her and sealing quietly. Engines murmured and engine fires flared. Osira already allowing the Vigilant to lift slowly and begin it’s taxi out of the hanger before sliding her black and silver helmet over her head, allowing the muffled quietness of comms still patching to fill her ears.

This is where they excelled. From alarm to air it had been minutes, Osira dared anyone to find a response time like that, she knew they wouldn’t find them. The lights of her Navigational computer interlinked with the charts being sent by Kelly and she inputted the codes to allow manual access to the power drives. At her arm a half chewed piece of gum from her last mission was picked off the metal and into her mouth.

<<Path insertion on my mark: Three>>

Osira made sure her helmet’s strap was tight under her neck.

<<Two>>

One last pull at her glove.

<<One>>

The stars stretched and the familiar kick lurched Osira’s stomach as they left Ghorman behind.

ATRISI SYSTEM, CORE WORLDS​

Hyperspace was a tunnel of light, the Vigilant humming beneath her palms like a caged animal wanting to run free, she had to make sure it knew she was in charge, that she was part of it as much as it her. The pre-jump tension drained as she went through her stages by pure instinct, make sure the throttle is set, ensure course confirmation, formation locked in. Check, check and check.

For a few fleeting minutes, the galaxy was a straight line of impossible speed, the only sound was that her own breathing and the soft beeps of the ships systems. One of the things about pilots was superstition and hers was that she needed to have everything read and let herself ride the calm, hands still, eyes half-closed for at least a few minutes. They all agreed the waiting was always worse than the fight.

Then the stars snapped back.

Realspace slammed into her chest like a physical blow. The viewport filled with fire. Atrisia sprawled below, a jewel cracked and on fire, the planet seemed choked in smoke, as if its entire surface was a pyre. Everywhere Star Destroyers traded broadside fusillades with Alliance cruisers, debris fields spinning in slow, sickly arcs where ships had already told their tale and died.

Osira’s eyes however broke through all of that and fell upon the thing within it all, The Beast Itself. A vast orb of steel that blotted out the stars, its sheer scale impossible to hold in thought. The Death Star. Osira’s knuckles whitened underneath her gloves as she gripped tightly to the yoke. Dread settled in her gut like ice. It wasn’t just the size of the thing, her eyes felt poisoned just looking at it, like it stared back at her and gave her a cruel stare. She drew a sharp breath through her teeth, she forced the fear and the nerves down where it couldn’t touch her. They had a job to do.

<<Well you certainly know how to impress.>> She muttered, it was barely audible but the sheer awe of the situation leaked through.

Kelly’s voice came steady over the comm. <<Check in, numbered callsigns only.>>

She keyed in, voice flat and surgical. <<Rogue Three, checking in.>>

Orders followed a flurry of quick tactical assessments by her brother who was very much the best of them, his position as Rogue Leader was established long before the squadron had been drawn up. When her cue came, she didn’t need any elaboration. <<Copy.>> A single word, then her Vigilant banked to the right, slipping from the formation like a dagger drawn from its sheath, before accelerating away breaking free of the pack.

The Vigilant wasn’t just fast, it was mind destroying quick. Osira drove it like a blade through weak cloth, every movement was efficient, every burst of cannon fire aimed, precise and calculated. The cockpit was hot and full of pressure, but she wore it like a second skin, her body molded to the snubfighter like an extension of her own mind.

A quick tone warned her of a lock; she rolled hard, the fighter corkscrewing as scarlet bolts chewed empty space. Her fingers feathered the triggers, and her shots landed clean. Two red beams shearing A TIE’s wing off sending it spinning like shrapnel before the whole fighter blossomed in flame. Another dove across her nose, she twitched the rudder, the Vigilant almost flicking itself sidewards, shooting a two-round burst, and split it down the middle.

<<Splash two.>>

Her HUD lit with more bogeys, faster than she could tag. She inverted, letting her break over the battle orientation, then pulled back so hard her harness had to grab her even in the vacuum. The turbolaser battery of a star destroyer spat emerald hellfire just meters away, the Vigilant tumbling through the shockwave as it shot through the large ship's killzone. Osira laughed, low and breathless. Let’s see Kelly do that.

Ahead, the AVS Tython staggered under boarding runs, her hull scarred and bleeding sparks. Osira dove, throttle wide open, skimming the dorsal hull so close the bridge windows filled with her shadow. She could almost see faces pressed to glass, watching a phantom roar by.

Her thumb toggled a preset code she hadn’t touched since disappearing from the Alliance Navy. The old frequency hummed in her ear, muscle memory burned deep from her days flying as ‘yet another Perris’.
<<Channel Aurebesh-Twelve,>> she said, her tone clipped, deadly calm. A TIE screamed into her arc; she snapped the yoke, fired once, and it vaporized and she flew through the shrapnel cloud like a shooting star. She didn’t blink. <<Here to assist.>>

No name. No callsign. Just an extremely fast snubfighter slipping through space, carving a lane through the Imperial’s around the Tython.

DIALOGUE GUIDE
"Speech." // <<Comms>> // <MESSAGES> // Thoughts

ROGUE SQUADRON
Anders Halak | Garrick Silvain | Kelly T. Perris
Flying: The T-91 Vigilant Clandestine Snubfighter

SHADOW SQUADRON
Artam Macek | Innis Tarring | SCAR | Soontir Barvel

AVS TYTHON
Alexandra Feanor | Arsenio Tagge | Marek Bancroft | Tiber Septimus | and others

​

​

 

[Tohu]

Smoke rolled in thick, swallowing the room, Jedi and dignitaries gone from sight. Tohu stood in place, watching the Black Sun thugs rush in past him, lured by the promise of a hefty payday. Even in the racket of blaster fire, he could hear that familiar hum; same sound that had split his vibroblade once, almost split him; same sound now growing louder, nearer.

Some called it luck, others called it a blessing, Tohu called it an unlucky Gamorrean; a Gamorrean blundering by just as the glow of a lightsaber twirled from the fog, slicing the him in half and coming after right at Tohu.

He knocked it aside and rushed into the smoke. Tohu burst out from above in a powerful leap, grinning wild now, unruly hair flailing, and brought his phase-blade down at a silver-haired head.

He'd craved to fight a Jedi ever since his humiliating defeat back aboard that Imperial ship.

Ayra Lowe

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

​

WEARING: Black sith robes + some armor underneath | WEAPONS: 2x Lightsabers and The Dark Side

TAG: Srina Talon | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Elmindra Xitaar | Madrona A’Mia | Taeli Raaf | Gerwald Lechner | Lina Ovmar | Aether Verd | Renn Vizsla | Domina Prime | Aselia Verd | Naamino Zuukamano | Haro Aven | Korda Veydran | Siv Kryze | @Anyone else in the group

​

It was a rather peculiar thing within the galaxy, how alliances were forged. Some were merely conditional and transactional. While others were inspired by a heart of loyalty. One could easily see microcosms of such examples within the Sith Order. And she easily saw it within the Mandalores as well.

In fact, during her time in Mandalore, she had seen the rebirth of the once-proud warrior culture, one that could be proud once more.

And her dark links to them were ever present. She had even commissioned the building of a new estate of hers on the resort paradise world of Roon, on the side of the tidally locked world where the shroud of night never lifted, designed with stellar elegance and the most beautiful and sought-after materials within the galaxy, a suitable place to hang her hat when she was in that part of the galaxy. It was in the heart of the Mandalorian Empire’s vassal territories and a stone’s throw away from the Holy Worlds.

As for the Mandalorians themselves, she knew they were more than ready for the battle that awaited them. Although, if asked, she would caution not to underestimate the Galactic Empire, for it would prove to be a dangerous opponent indeed.

She then mused on Xander Blackmoore and such a thought gave a subtle knowing upturn to her lips. For every moment they weren’t around each other, she found herself missing him. He, of course, couldn’t be here, but her heart was with him nevertheless, which was something she both loved and loathed about him at the same time. Thankfully, it was more of the former and much less of the latter.

It had come to pass that the Empress had requested assistance from those in the group in navigating through the Blackwall, which Velda had readily given to her and the group as a whole, discreetly putting her concentration into the task.

It was a sight to behold as golden light washed across the deck in all its grandeur.

And then, on the other end of the voyage, was Atrisia and what looked to be a Death Star. That must have been what her sources in the Haxion Brood were speaking about.

And it is there where she would take the fight.

[A little late to the party, but hello! This will continue on Chapter 3]

​

 

[Tiber Septimus]

Objective II Fury of the Storm - Sub Objective "Sword n' Board Em"
​

Location: AVS-Tython | Artrisia Orbit
Tags: Allies: Alexandra Feanor | Diarch Reign | Arsenio Tagge | Ayra Lowe | Marek Bancroft | Caelus Vire // NIHIL | Gavin Vel | Ryu Jung
Enemies: Razmir Tezhyn | Koda Fett | V1-L8 | Tohu | Nero Drake | Velis Arden | Thayne Tameron
Gear: Lightsaber(Hidden in sleeve)

When Marek Bancroft had pulled out his hold-out blaster, Tiber had been ready to step into the fray.

He had, admittedly, preferred not too- his colleagues would probably call sessions, inquiries, and make fancy speeches- but he wouldn't let fellow Senators die if he could prevent.

Which is why Tiber was relieved when the Diarch stepped forward:

"Allow me to introduce Gavin Vel"

He said, motioning to the giant beside him

"And Ryu Jung"

As he motioned to his first crucible apprentice

"No matter what this empire throws at you, these two will keep you safe as we make our escape. Think of it as a gesture of.. friendship"

With that, the Diarch unclipped his black and gold lightsaber hilt from his belt and with the all to familiar snap-hiss, his newly reforged lightsaber sprang to life.

"Splendid", Tiber exhaled in relief, looking between the now-identified apprentices. The Jedi that had been among them ( Ayra Lowe ) had gone off to dispatch one of the many the criminals throwing themselves at the marines, hoping to gain the upper-hand in the battle for the Tython- with the delegation as the prize.

The Niaheli followed behind the Diarch and Marek, the man's arm and orange blur as he batted blaster bolts away with frightening precision and ease, returning some of the deadly plasma bolts to sender.

"Gentleman-- we need to find ourselves a ship. Preferably one located in a hangar which our assailants can't reach before us."

"Something close to the bridge then", Tiber piped up, his days as a officer in the Niaheli Navy coming back to him. "The bridge is usually the most secure part of the the ship", he continued before ducking to avoid an errant blaster bolt.

"...Anyways", Tiber grumbled, "If we want to get out of here in one piece, let's try that hangar."