Invasion All Your Base Are Belong To Us! | TIC Invasion of SO Held "Thandon Star Cluster" Superhex

[Saltare Dothon]

Saltare impacted the Sith trooper, the others shots going wide as he closed the distance with his repulsor boots. Both of them scrambled to finish the other one off. Saltare got lucky as he was able to knock the Sith's pistol out of his hand while attempting to stab him with his wrist-mounted vibro-blade. It cost him, though, as Saltare stabbed with his right hand and used his left as a shield since it was bent and nearly useless. The Sith trooper slashed away, knocking some of the metallic netting loose, but his blade bit deep into Saltare's forearm in between the armored plates.

The duel continued, quick, almost too fast to see, both of them relying on their years of training. The Sith and Saltare exchanged blows faster and faster until the Sith impacted with Saltare particularly hard, throwing himself off to the slide, slightly off balance.

Saltare staggered from the impact, ready to leap back in and engage, but the Sith launched a blazing energy shield in his direction. Saltare lifted his left arm to cushion the blow as the shield hit him hard, knocking him off his feet and onto his back. The shield bit through the major remaining metallic netting, allowing Saltare to free his arm from its crooked angle.

Quick as thought, Saltare rolled backwards with the impact and came back up to his feet, his vambrace shield snapped open on his left forearm, and in his right hand, he swept out his vibro longsword. Saltare was intent on finishing this trooper as he rushed toward him, stabbing straight toward the other's belly, looking to skewer him.

While Saltare engaged the leader, the rest of Inferno squad advanced toward the other Sith troopers, intent on putting them down.

****

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NPC: BETH ROLAN / INFERNO SQUAD / SQUAD LEADER / RANCOR 2-3

"Let's go with the hatch!"

"Electronics on it are offline; they've sealed it tight! I'm burning it, give me cover!" Dale shot back at Beth.

"Shit!" Beth said, hands trembling as she continued to pour fire with the other members of Inferno into the mass of beasts climbing up the shield generator tower. She couldn't see that chitinous mass, that was the spider she was sure she had seen, but she knew it was there somewhere. Beth did not want to face one of her deepest fears, such as a gigantic eight-legged beast.

"We should've just had aerial blow this kriffing thing!" one of the troopers snapped.

Beth looked at Cooridg's fighters and shuttles as they sped up and down the battlefield, thinking the same thing. They had already tried to engage the generator with missiles, but enemy ECW capabilities around the generator were strong, and missiles were spiraling out of control. Whenever air support approached, Xorvynorg, the other creatures, or enemy air defenses would push them back before they did any significant damage. Watching that gigantic lizard jump in the air and swipe fighters out of the air made no sense; it just wasn't right.

They needed something that the enemy defense couldn't stop. Selrik's artillery was the most obvious choice, but the generator was a reinforced and heavily armored building designed to withstand such weapons. The artillery shot would need to be pinpoint accurate, disabling the shield emitter at the top of the tower.

But with the artillery having to arc their shots low, it was like shooting a blaster at a needle kilometers away. Still possible, but difficult without guidance.

Beth got on comms with ground units, "Laze the shield emitter for Selrik's artillery!"

"No good, ma'am, that beast is among his artillery. You're it, Inferno, bring that thing down!"

"Let's go, Dale!" Beth screamed as Xorvynorg reared up, his intent clear, his eyes sparkling with an intelligence that was beyond what would believe.

"It's open, go go go!"

None of them waited; they all sprinted for the manhole that was still bright red around the edges that Dale had to cut through. One after the other, the four remaining Inferno members on the roof dropped heavily into the shield generator as the lizard bathed the roof with fire.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief as whatever fire attack the beast was using did not reach through the manhole toward her squad, lying 10 feet below it on a small gantry.

"Alright-" Beth was cut off as the roof around the manhole began to peel back, eight legs scraping against the close confines of the manhole, opening the roof like a tin can.

"Holy force, go! Make your way down to the control room! GO!" Beth yelled!

The other members ran as they never had before, each of them seeing some nightmarish beast running after them in the tight confines of the shield generator's tower. Metal groaned and screeched as whatever beast was behind them quickly closed the distance, the building barely supporting its weight.

Beth was side by side with another member of Inferno before a black chitinous leg tripped up the other member, sending him tumbling face down. Beth turned around, rifle up, and began blasting the creature with red plasma bolts. The spider, for that's what it was, roared its fury at her before stabbing the trooper through its chest with one of its legs.

"RUN!" the trooper screamed as he lit his armor's core.

Beth turned and ran, heading to the end of a hall and to an exit stairwell that Dale and the other trooper were already at and beckoning her to. Beth blew through the door at full sprint, taking the stairs flights at a time as her squad followed suit. Far above them, she heard an explosion as the Inferno squad member's armor detonated.

"Did he get it?" Dale asked.

The door caved in as the spider broke through, its hissing roaring mass impacting the far wall of the stairwell before climbing down the stairwell towards them, limbs clinking off the metal railing.

"Go!" Beth shouted as she shoved the other two members before her. They made their way down the flights of stairs to the base of the tower before exiting the stairwell door onto the main floor of the shield generator tower. The tower vibrated from the battle roaring around them outside. In front of them was a large blast door, and beyond that was a control room full of technicians.

"Light 'em up!" Beth yelled.

Beams of energy lanced out at the technicians, dropping them before they could rally any type of defense. Inferno flowed into the room, Beth shutting the outer blast door.

"Plug in and shut down the shield," she told Dale.

Dale walked over to a console and plugged his armor into it, the screen flashing with security protocols as his armor's system made quick work of them. Outside the blast door, Beth heard the screaming, incoherent mess of the spider as it broke through the lower door to the stairwell and advanced on them.

It hit the blast doors with the force of a hurricane, rocking the entire room. Beth's breath quickened, her rifle slowly coming up to point at the door.

"What is that thing?" the other Inferno member asked, his voice a whisper.

"Some...force demon. I don't know. Dale, where are we at?" As she asked the question, the lights in the room dimmed before coming back online. Dale ejected the wire coming from his armor into the system before glancing at her and nodding his head once, "It's off."

"Place charges in this room, don't let them turn it back on," Beth ordered before turning to the wider battlefield net. "This is Inferno squad. The shield generator is down. Captain Cooridg ( Ronhar Tane ), Selrik Lorcas , boost my transmission to the fleet, the shield is DOWN."

Beth shut off the comm.

"Is there another way out of here?" Beth asked.

Dale glanced at her before slowly shaking his head.

"Once more into the fire. For the Empire," she said softly. The banging at the doors became a squealing sound, and the beast began to force its way inside, the blast doors being forced back into their housing.

ENGAGING: Jacen Breska
TIC ALLIES: Onrai Selrik Lorcas Ronhar Tane
SITH: Garza

 

[Lunaria Talon]

Location: Shoengen, Brosi [En Route to Delta-2]
Objective: Objective II - Seize the Means of Production!
Goals: Subterranean Ore Mines Beneath Processing Plant Delta-2
Tags: Soldane Talon | Matteo Guo-Yian | The Lord of Hunger

_________________________​

No.​

​

This was not romantic in the slightest, and thankfully, she was saved from having to explain. The flaxen-haired apprentice was pulled into motion abruptly, and Artemis ran…But ONLY because Matteo was pulling her. Only because she didn't want him to fall if she resisted. They would have needed to work in tandem to challenge just one assassin droid…But these were specialized. Custom, murder-bots.​

​

Her teeth ground together.​

​

The slender youth never ran from a mission, and the files accessible through the Tsis'kaar would show that Artemis Dreadmoor was among the most dedicated students in Jutrand Academy. She had started with such a miserable ranking in the Cohorts and had scraped and scrapped to raise it to reflect something far more respectable. Every level she raised felt like it was taking a toll, shaving years of her life off, but these situations were exactly what they'd been prepared for. Hadn't Matteo JUST said it himself?​

​

Dimly…Artemis thought she recognized the weapons the droids raised in their direction. She only caught a glimpse before Matteo was yanking her arm off, but, oddly, her mother had a few just like them. Before she could verbally protest, the ground burst near their feet and debris flung in the air while Matteo commanded a large stone to fly at the red-eyed units. It would buy them…Seconds.​

​

The gunfire was deafening, and the scent of death clawed at her lungs while the presence of force-breaker rounds made her heart skip a few beats. She could feel it, even through their casings, the sensation of null, of nothing, and it was the hallmark of ammunition meant for people like them. Sith. The composition of the bullets let her shift just slightly to the right and left when she moved to avoid being hit…But she could feel the heat, the wind, when one passed too close to her face.​

​

It made her feel sick, even being that close, for a fraction of a second.​

​

Matteo's intention pulsed against her skin. He didn't need to speak to explain what he was thinking…But the Arkanian-Echani hybrid could feel a sense of purpose begin to dig in. They weren't children anymore. When the gunfire stopped for a moment, her hand ripped away from her friend, and her boots began to skid along the ashen forest floor, kicking up a cloud of soot, to halt her momentum. Her braid snapped like a whip as she turned on her heel to face their enemy.​

​

They were coordinated, precise, and perfect.​

​

Probably, already calculating how to flank and kill them in the most efficient way possible.​

​

They wanted to hunt?​

​

Fine.​

​

The red optics and crimson lights the droids emitted made them easy to spot, but that only meant there were fewer advantages in murky terrain. The Sceleratii would be able to track her every movement…So they would likely see her move her hand toward a crate of something unknown. This area was an entrance to a mine where explosives were commonly used. Keen echani eyes recognized the symbol on the side, and that was all it took for her to use the Force to hurl it at the enemy.​

​

The box spun end over end in the air, clearing the muddy field in seconds, flying straight into the midpoint of the fan-shaped formation of automatons. Artemis didn't wait to see if it landed; rather, her hand turned upward, palm open, with fingers that spun closed as her will surged—"Burn."​

​

BOOM​

​

It was a smaller explosion than others they'd heard, but the crate ignited mid-air in a concussive blast that lit up the canopy in a hellish orange bloom. The shockwave that followed hit like a hammer, knocking her back, even when her arms rose to protect herself. Flaming debris rained down, and she kept low while her stance slowly lowered, saber reversed in one hand, and it came to light with a familiar hiss. The red light sent jagged shadows across her face that seemed too serious for one so young. It seemed entirely wrong.​

​

"We can't complete our mission with these things tailing us…There's no way to outrun them."​

​

Sure, they could advocate for the high ground, but where was that exactly? Droids would never tire and would hunt them relentlessly, always in the way, even if by some miracle they managed to temporarily lose them.​

​

"We can't get trapped with them in the mines."​

​

Not too far away, she heard an inhuman growl…Her use of the Force and the noise had very likely drawn the attention of the undead.​

​

They seemed even more active, now. Faster.​

 

[Drystan Creed]

OBJECTIVE 1

Drystan dropped into a low stance just as arcs of lightning leapt toward him. His HUD scrambled—static flickering across his vision—while the electricity clawed at his suit's systems, distorting signals and fraying nerve impulses. He could have raised his defenses. Could have pivoted, sidestepped the incoming storm before it lashed across his armor.

But he didn't.

He stood firm—rooted—his right hand hovering over the pommel of his sheathed blade, his jaw clenched as sparks arced through his nerves. The armor held—barely. Not enough to stop it all. Not enough to stop the pain.

And yet… he smiled.

A strained, toothy smile that broke through gritted teeth revealing the purpose of his lack of defense. A gambit.

He had wagered that Strosious's attack—however painful—was worth enduring. All for the opening it would give him. The time it would take to defend, to recover, would be his moment to strike.

His left index finger moved.

Click— BANG!

The scabbard erupted with force, launching his blade with bullet speed. Even amidst the lightning storm, Drystan's reflexes remained razor sharp—his fingers snapped around the hilt mid-flight, using the weapon's momentum to drive himself forward.

His boot hammered into the metal floor—CLANG!—crushing the plating beneath it as the power of his step grounded him, bracing him for the strike.

SLASH!

The blade carved upward in a violent arc, a diagonal sweep meant to cleave straight across Strosious's torso. One clean strike. One unbroken motion.

This was his risk. To trade pain for opportunity. To bet survival against the thrill of a killing blow.

Most would never take that chance.

But Drystan lived for this. Pain was his ante. And his life was just another chip on the table.

All for a chance… at the jackpot.

Darth Strosius

 

[Dollshade]

Location: Shoengen - Brosi
Thread Objective: Storm the Tower
Mission Objective: Secure data.
Allies: Narantuyaa Asther
Enemies: Darth Prazutis

The titan pressed forward. Dollshade’s chakram had carved into his armored chest, yet it had ultimately failed to fully penetrate. Still, designed to withstand hard, repeated impacts and stresses, the chakram hadn’t been wholly destroyed. Rather than falling to the ground, the chakram rebounded off of the Dark Lord’s warplate, before flying back into its wielder's grasp.

That was when the Godflame came.

The corridor fell silent just before it hit. Then, the Force convulsed as reality tore itself asunder within her perception.

The first arc of the Godflame came low and wide, slithering along the corridor like a living curse. The Opaline Skin’s integrated shield array flared—brilliant and defiant. For a moment, it seemed the suit might hold entirely. However, the Godflame was not simple electricity. It was wrath given shape, hate refined into a weapon so ancient and intimate it felt like it had always known her name.

Dollshade’s body seized mid-motion. Her suit’s solar ray shielding took the brunt, and its AEGIS nanoarray drank deeply of the storm, grounding what it could. But the sheer pressure of the energy overwhelmed the sink in under a second, surging across the phrik-weave in waves of colorless fire.

Her bones felt like glass wrapped in muscle. Nerve endings detonated along her spine, arms, and chest as overloaded sensor pathways snapped and rebooted in rapid succession. Her vision blurred, spasmed, then bled red at the edges. The bodysuit’s ostrine reinforcement boiled with absorbed heat, protecting her flesh but scalding the underlayer. Her arms trembled violently; fingertips curled into rigid claws.

Still, the true attack manifested from within.

The Force Shield embedded within her cowl flared—its defense automatic and absolute. Without it, she would’ve drowned in the surge of inner horror. Even still, her mind brushed against the edge of a screaming void, a deep red ocean filled with memories that were not her own. Impressions distorted, voices twisted, and for a second, she tasted the air of a room she had never once entered.

For a moment, she screamed, a high-pitched, ringing exertion that tore out from her throat like a glass flute shattering under pressure.

Then, as fast as it had come, the Godflame pulled away, diverted or spent.

Dollshade collapsed to a knee, exhaling a broken, rattled breath. Smoke rose from the shoulders and chest of the Opaline Skin, the bodysuit’s construction singed, visibly warped in places. Her left forearm twitched uncontrollably. When she tried to rise, her knees buckled—her muscles stuttering as residual shocks crawled beneath the skin like fire ants made of static. Angry red burns flared beneath the underlayer at her right hip and the inside of her upper left arm, where the bodysuit’s material flexed under movement.

Still, Dollshade stood.

And once more, she struck.

Her machine pistol snapped towards the chest of the advancing titan from 10 meters away. A mental command rather than a manual action triggered the weapon to fire then, launching a fully automatic burst of seven Void Stone-treated armor penetrating slugs aimed to strike giant directly in the weakened vergence of his chest plate where the chakram had struck only moments before. All the while, Dollshade surged into motion, firing over her shoulder as she kited away from the Dark Lord in a sprint, opening the distance.

Immediately after the slugs, came her chakram, singing through the air at blistering velocity as it raced back towards its target from 18 meters away!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Opaline Skin
  
  • Arms
    
    • Modular Attachment Point - L
      
      • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II
    • Modular Attachment Point - R
      
      • Repulsor Projector
• Blushwheels
  
  • Enhancement Cell Chamber
    
    • Mark IV Energy Cell
• Needlewitch
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • Standard Penetrator Magazine (4)
    • Void Stone Armor Penetrator Magazine (4)
• NZ All-Purpose Viral Suppressant Type II
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

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​

Ally Tag: [SO] + Horus Rhyne
Enemy Tag: [TIC] - Not Engaging Yet [OPEN]
Location: Brosi [At some kind of...Refinery?]
Objective: Objective III - BYOO [Subject to change pending opposition]

| Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...Well...You need the villain. If you don't have one...The good guy can just stay home."
___________​

"Oh, I do hate it."

Her words were a less-than-polite growl that almost sounded like she was snapping back at him just for bringing it up. She didn't look at Horus while she finished getting her gear into place with a metallic click. Sophia didn't bother to make excuses or explain why; she hated it so much. He could feel how deeply her hooks were in his skin, how fully she invested in him. How she loved him.

No matter how foolish and insipid such a concept was.

The littlest Marr had expected some sort of political marriage to further the goals of her family, but it had never come. By many standards of nobility, she was practically a spinster now. "Sometimes I think you take hits on purpose…"

Her voice held a cadence of amusement, but it was dry, more like a knife wrapped in silk than any warm flirtation. She was a jealous, jealous woman, who needed truth nor sense to find something to be upset about. She gave him a side eye that softened when he likened her to something he couldn't get enough of. The insistence that…He would only want her at his side. More, of her.

Not for the first time, she rolled her shoulders and pressed the topic away. There was always some new thing to address, and in this instance, there was an actual battle to attend. At his question, she paused for a beat, considering.

Sophia didn't really give a kark about Brosi.

It was the principle of the matter that drove her to join the fight, not to mention, that they were already in the thick of it. Her fingers flexed around the hilt of her saber for a moment before reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. One last time, before the helmet went on. "Loud…They'll be on us soon enough if we stand still…So we might as well give them what they came for."

She walked out.

The boarding ramp hissed while it opened, and the acrid air of Brosi met her like a waiting curse. Her hands fell loosely at her side, and her head tilted back for a moment while red mist began to manifest. It slithered from her fingertips first, curling lazily through the air, before it expanded outward in a veil of smoke. The vapors shimmered with faint, unnatural heat, leaving a soft glow that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. It was flashy, obvious, and nonetheless lethal.

It sped forward, eager, to reach the Imperials that were approaching from the north. When it found them, it seemed harmless enough until it swirled through the ankles of the soldiers and eventually invaded their gear. Filling their eyes, their ears, until her control sunk in like a mind flayer and two small units turned their weapons on each other. Sophia, was close enough to hear the blaster fire.

The panic.

It was hard to fight what couldn't be seen.

"Like kicking a hornet's nest…", she murmured, noticing that activity was suddenly picking up. The ground was constantly shaking from explosives, behemoth titans, or the sensation of weaponry being deployed. This was no different. The Imperial forces were looking for what it was that attacked them, but they couldn't find the source. Not yet, anyway. "Don't worry…I'll save some for you later, Horus."

Not the enemies, no, there were plenty of those. Sophia referred to the crimson Sith magic that she wielded. He had seen it before, many times, but not quite like this.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Location: Mega Tower [Service Tunnel]
Objective: Objective I - Storm the Tower!
Tags: Aerik Lechner | [OPEN]
Goals: Sabotage Imperial Forces

________________​

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

It seemed that the slicers that had come for this data were able to, by and large, skate around the traps that she'd left in the system, but time would tell if different parties suddenly wound up paying the piper. The ceiling pulsed again, and dust shook loose in thin clouds as a series of booming explosions made her reach out to brace herself on the wall. Her jaw tightened. Aerik was breathing louder, his stance alert, but she could feel the stress in his response.

Everything was new to him.

The scale, the tension, the raw sensation of the Dark Side bleeding down from the surface. He was listening too closely and hearing too much. Their bloodline gifted them heightened senses, true enough, but strength without control was a liability. Naedira stepped closer and reached out to touch his shoulder, knowing how he felt. She hadn't been born a wolf.

Naedira had been forced to adjust to having a she-wolf long before she ever had the ability to shapeshift. She knew the fight, the drain, and the overwhelming needs of the wolf that needed to be met. It made them feel invincible. But…They weren't. They were just as mortal as anyone else and just as capable of being blown to bits. "You're not alone in that…", she spoke, acknowledging what he admitted. "We're tuned to the world differently. It's not a flaw…We just need to learn how to choose what we listen to."

She paused…Knowing, he wouldn't want her to treat him like a child.

Even if he was one.

"Keep breathing. Let the noise pass through you…Don't chase it."

The pounding from above them was consistent now, almost measured, and Naedira couldn't help but wonder what it was. Imperials or Sith bombing the Tower or the nearby streets? It was also a possibility that the titan, Garza , was on the move. No matter the scenario, it was worrying, and their plan to subtly infect the opposition with relays would need to be sped up. Naedira pulled out her datapad, and the built-in scanner identified several intersecting tunnels ahead. "We only have one more…"

"You did well, but we're running out of time…If the ground above us gets breeched…"

Naedira didn't finish her sentence. Aerik knew…He didn't need his mother to spell it out for him. It was highly likely that if the earth above them crumbled in, they'd be buried alive or swamped by the enemy. The auburn-haired woman moved like falling smoke, silent, and with an inherent grace that bespoke many years operating within some sort of military structure.

Nae didn't speak of her past with her children, much.

She didn't discuss her abnormal strength and let them think it was the she-wolf in her causing the enhancement. Ironically, she was physically stronger than even Gerwald Lechner . But that was only because her body and mind had been home to a monster for far too long. She was the thing, a creature, that their family likely would have hunted and killed.

"The next panel is just ahead…Remove it and use the spike as I showed you."

The way up to the next floor was also here, through a trap door, but that was when things would get interesting. No longer would they be relatively safe in the service tunnel.

They would be in the open, really, prime meat for any Imperial unit that just happened to sweep through. Naedira could hope that they were otherwise engaged for the sake of her son…

But that seemed too good to be true.

 

[Braith Achlys]

Objective: 1 (Storm the Tower)
Allies: The Sith Order
Enemies: The Imperial Confederation
Directly Interacting: Brent Warnel + Darth Virelia
Equipment: Golden Carapace (Armor) | Braith's Spear | Braith's Saberstaff

Heads Will Roll

Stuck.

She'd been in this position before, numerous times even, not least because she'd opted for the path of least resistance forward: exert minimal effort for maximum potential, why use more than was necessary? The less powerful the foe, whether it be because of skill or raw strength in physicality or the force, Braith had, seemingly always, performed worse than she did when her enemies either matched her or were her betters. Maybe she was a bad judge of character and skill, perhaps she was subject to such hubris as to completely underestimate her opponents, but this was the last embarrassing mistake she was willing to make. Or, at least, the moment she rocked to the side but couldn't quite reach her lightsaber it became the last embarrassing moment she was willing to be in.

There was a prickling across the surface of her skin, around her collarbone over her chest and back and up and down her thighs - biting sensations from the creatures that clung tightly to her flesh as they forced her adrenaline to a fever pitch as she struggled against her binds. She'd get free eventually, there'd be a saber in her hand soon enough, and in a moment the dark rim around her vision would be cleared once she managed to get a grip on the situat-- she felt the binds tear. Noisily she sucked in a lung-full of air through her nose as her lightsaber came free from under her hip and flew into her palm with a snap-hiss that illuminated the hallway with a deep magenta hue from both ends of the hilt, one side cutting cleanly into the wall beside her and the other a pillar of heat that jut out into the air and through the remaining section of netting she'd otherwise nearly been suddenly freed from.

Her head turned as she got up on one knee, violet eyes searching until they found Darth Virelia - the woman responsible. There was an unspoken appreciation there, if bitter because of the responsibility taken from her, but she'd immediately removed the Sith from the suspicion she'd held her under up until now. That wasn't to say her rising temper had subsided, however, it simply meant her single-minded focus, tunnel vision spurred on by the adrenaline the orbalisks had injected directly into her bloodstream narrowing her vision significantly, was turned immediately towards Brent Warnel . Until this point she hadn't drawn much on the force, at least not directly, if at all. Now?

The ground underneath her crunched as she returned to her feet, a thin, red, line glowing up along the wall as she lifted her saberstaff with her and carved a jagged mess with it. She paused while Virelia and Warnel locked eyes, taking a moment to herself. Her right hand opened as one of the ends of her sabers, the one that dug into the wall, shut off, heat growing exponentially as friction in the air between her fingertips rose greatly with the excitement she forced through molecules that it was made up of. Though it was rather petty to have grown so upset over something that should've been relatively meaningless, especially to someone with her experience, and particularly given how unharmed she'd ended up despite everything, the orbalisks created a positive feedback loop with her flaring temper that spurred her into a rage.

Lightning had been out of the question, but fire?

Oxygen in the air combust, seemingly spontaneously, as she clenched her fist. Flames fell to the ground like rain beneath her fist, racing where they fell along the floor and up the walls in an effort to climb as high to the ceiling as they could. Certainly the witch hadn't moved but in minutes the hallway would be lined with flames. "I guess I don't need to show any restraint." Braith said evenly, her voice considerably more cold than the heat from the fire would've let on. There'd been an underlying implication that she'd had been acting in the way she had up until this point either because she hadn't taken the situation seriously - or because she'd felt satisfied with how things were going. If the sudden shift in demeanor was anything to go by, however, it was obvious that the Alua'an was no longer happy with where things were heading and, quite possibly, had lost what patience she had to begin with.

"Enough playing around."

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit:
Flight Suit & Helmet, Belt of Strength,
Well Worn Boots, Weal & Woe

Allies: Haro Aven
Enemies: Ronhar Tane

Soundtrack

Objective Two
Dogfighting
Piloting: Ragnos-class Interceptor
Commanding 10 other pilots: Ghoul Squad
​

Eyes darting to scan the engine and motor readouts, Naamino formulated a plan even as the war torn skies continued to fill with more ships and ominous clouds. Not to mention the veritable bestiary that seemed to have been let loose upon the ground below their location. The zabrak couldn't spare much more than a wayward "Fething hells…" for the chaos unfolding below but he made note to take regular stock of what was happening in that nearby terrestrial theater of war.

Aggression was ever the tactic he favored and with Haro more than capable of commanding units, an idea came together rapidly.

"Group one and three, with me. Two and four, on Aven's orders."

He punched the SLAM and sped forward, angling his fighters to gain as much altitude as they reasonably could before they'd need to cut down at an angle on the offense. Naami barked orders to bring all shields forward in preparation of retaliatory fire. While they climbed, Lysander von Ascania recaptured his attention briefly and the telltale chime of an outgoing call pinged through the ghost-link.

"Gods above and below, Lys if you've added someone to this channel that doesn't have clearance-" the zabrak growled menacingly before his threat of disciplinary action was cut short by the closing distance between his squad and enemy combatants.

Aside from the TIE bombers, Naami didn't know much about the other ships. He'd need to study them on the fly. Given that, and recognizing his buddy Haro Aven would be able to discern that kind of information more readily given the presence of Bodie, the Lieutenant stuck with more familiar territory. He was also more than a little reassured by the care in his friend's tone— knowing that Haro had his back in this fight bolstered his confidence to no end.

Hurtling toward the bombers and odd long-necked gunships, Naami gave hasty orders over the Squad comms— frustration about the Badawan ghost-link chat all but forgotten in the heat of combat. Naami thumbed open the trigger for missiles and the lead pilot of Ghoul Three trio followed suit.

"Briggs, target those bombers with me. Support squad, stay close and keep the gunners busy! We can't allow them to deliver their payloads."

Naami pushed the attack, raining missiles in controlled bursts, knowing he needed to close some distance for the field disruption system to do its work most effectively. He was followed in tandem by the lead pilot of Ghoul Three while the two pairs of tertiary fighters stayed in a tight V formation to defend against retaliation.

All readings showed "Screamer" Jammers were active for each of his pilots, and with the speed of thought he also verified where his units were. Things were about to get hectic indeed.

Spoiler: Squad Formation

Naami leading Ghoul One, Ace Pilot Briggs leading Ghoul Two. All units activate SLAM to close distance with enemy ships. Forward shields active, lead pilots pressing the attack while support pilots guard their flanks. Both trios of ships flying in controlled V formations.

All efforts being made to engage and destroy enemy combatants so they must focus on the dogfight rather than structural damage or hindering Sith ground forces.

Lieutenant: Naamino Zuukamano "Horns"	100%
GHOUL One
Ace Pilot Zen'nin'dral "Zed"	100%
Pilot Grimul "Rock"
GHOUL FOUR
Ace Pilot Briggs "Fang"	100%
Pilot Poppy "Pop"	100%
Pilot Trillo "Zing"	100%

​

 

[Haro Aven]

LOCATION: OUTER RIM > STYGIAN CALDERA > DOSTRA SYSTEM > BROSI IN ATMOSPHERE​

EQUIPMENT: FLIGHT SUIT | BODIE | SHIP​

OBJECTIVE 2: DEFEND BROSIAN ORE MINES AND SITH RESOURCES FROM INVADING FORCES; ENGAGE ENEMY STARFIGHTERS​

ALLIES: Naamino Zuukamano | Garza ​

ENEMIES: Ronhar Tane ​

​

In the backdrop of the incoming enemy fighters, the mass that Haro had previously disregarded as part of the ore manufacturing facility moved, and he registered that it was in fact not a building but a massive reptilian leviathan. His eyes went wide as he was briefly distracted by the colossal monstrosity and, for one surreal moment, he felt like he was living out a scene in a Holocomic from his childhood.

"What in the nine Corellian hells?" he muttered in disbelief, just before Naami's orders pulled him back to the moment.

"Group one and three, with me. Two and four, on Aven's orders."

With that, Haro watched Naami and his team SLAM forward, quickly closing the distance between them and the incoming enemy bombers and gunships. The Zabrak's aggressive tactics usually paid off on the battlefield but dogfighting was different in that they were entirely reliant on the capability of their fighters and how well they could fly them. He couldn't just Force Blast a proton torpedo... could he? Either way, Haro didn't like the look of those gunships, but he trusted his buddy to make the right call.

"Copy that! Lemme know if you need back up, Ghoul Leader. Those gunships look like they pack a punch." The offer was delivered with the same lighthearted banter as their dynamic often warranted, but there was an underlying concern that could be felt more than heard.

"Alright team, tally bandits 4 o'clock," he addressed his assigned pilots, indicating the Y-Fenders and fancy-looking fighters speeding in from the opposite side of the bombers and gunships, a strategy forming in his mind.

"Ghoul Two, defensive formation. Shields up, get in close, and engage Disruptors. Open 'em up for us."
"Copy!" "Copy!" "Copy!"

"Ghoul Four, hang back with me and open fire once their shields are down."
"Copy!" "Copy!"

As Ghoul Two tore off toward their objective, Haro caught movement in his peripheral as one of the bombers Naami's team was facing off with was snatched out of the sky.

"Fething chit! Glad that thing's on our side!" Haro exclaimed, laughing nervously even as he and his team opened up laser cannon fire on the enemy ships.​

Spoiler: SQUAD FORMATION

Ghoul Two: defensive formation, SLAM to close distance, all power to shields, activated Shield Disruptors once in range of enemy Y-Fenders and Gnetocarros

Ghoul Four + Captain Aven: opened up heavy fire on enemy Y-Fenders and Gnetocarros once Ghoul Two activated Shield Disruptors.

TEAM CAPTAIN Haro Aven "Iceman"	100%
GHOUL TWO
Ace Pilot Zantha "Viper"	100%
Pilot Bolin "Womp"	100%
Pilot T'smar "Nex"	100%
GHOUL FOUR	100%
Ace Pilot Kyff "Ghost"	100%
Pilot Grund "Moof"	100%

 

[Brent Warnel]

He rocketed across the ground and out of reach from Darth Virelia as his jetpack burped a quick burst of fire that allowed him to get the distance he needed. His whistling birds did not have the effect he expected; the six-eyed warrior, for he knew it was her, had done something to them. They had altered course. Where they should have impacted both individuals and finished this fight quickly, they altered course mid-flight. Sure, one had impacted the violet warrior, but the damage was negligible. The others? They had impacted the netting around Braith Achlys , helping free her.

Brent skidded to a halt further down the hallway, quickly getting up to his feet as he watched Braith do the same. Braith was more...determined as she stood up. Brent watched as the ground fracture beneath her. Where Brent got up to his feet out of necessity, she stood with a new fire. She had a new zeal about her posture, something that caused him to remember who he was facing. His brain reiterated that these two were no menial Sith troopers, but trained force wielders who could crush him once they decided to stop playing with him.

And Virelia? The way she stared at him. Brent knew, if he slipped up, he would die here. She didn't look at him like an equal, but an obstacle, and one she knew she could deal with. Where this situation had been dangerous, now it was suicidal. For him.

Brent eyes were drawn toward Braith as her saber burned a path where it impacted the wall. Then, Braith shut it off. A curious tactic, but one that soon revealed her plan as Brent watched the air burst into flames, dripping fire from Braith's fist.

"I guess I don't need to show any restraint." Braith said evenly

"Enough playing around."

As Brent listened to her, he watched her fist. She could set the air alight with barely a thought. Not just the air, the entire hall. Flames licked all around him as she ignited the ground, the walls, even the very air. The force again, always out of his reach, taunting him, showing him that no matter how good he was at his martial skills, others would always have a leg up by some all-powerful magic. Not one that could be obtained, but that was bestowed at birth, a luck of the draw. It not only irked him, it burned inside him. His temper flared, thought processes going out the back hatch of his brain.

"Stems," he snapped at his armor, his already flooded system being overwhelmed with more meds pushing him beyond the edge.

A crimson flash-

Rain on a landing pad-

A dark amethyst blade cutting-

Slashing-

His brother screaming from the pain-

"COME ON!" Brent snarled at the two in front of him. He stalked down the hallway, his mind a mess, fists impacting the side of his Beskar helmet so hard an outsider might believe he would dent it as he tried to drum out the memory. "KILL ME! DO IT!"

Brent's hands snapped out in front of him, a thermal detonator flew from his left hand, and from his right, a Force-Breaker. The grenades arced down the hallway toward both the Sith, and Brent followed, his hands edging toward his back, pulling out his vibroknucklers which were mag-clamped to his back as he sprinted toward both the Sith.

ENGAGING: Braith Achlys Darth Virelia

 

[Xeykard]

Hacks | Allyson Locke | Her | Naedira Darcrath | Narantuyaa Asther | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | HACK(S) PROGRESS: 40%​

"No," he snapped. "Fuel your greed. There is more that can be used, if for nothing other than Tezhyn's credits."

A single stroke obliterated another of the dead, a wave of his hands sent the rest flying, little more than gnats in the face of his strength. That craving returned, for a challenge. The promise of that deadly future was becoming insufficient.

"Follow one of the others -- take what they seek. You are not the only one with access. Else, take of the Sith's riches." His hate had grown in his self-imposed exile, as it had to, but so too had he learned the value of greed. The Black Sun festered with it. Now, his words dripped with it -- he wanted Hacks ravenous. He could have his men look through what she pulled; less discretion was required. "Others can sort through what is left, what you bring. Take without care."

The undead sufficiently thinned, he looked around more carefully. The number of stairs they'd climbed had been deceiving; they were nearly forty levels up, nigh-perfect for them to access their escape, should it arrive appropriately. Yet, something was wrong; the flow of air was stifled, doors and exits and windows closed, beyond the primary lockdown protocols. He smelled the air, drew himself up. Jedi? No, worse. His response would remain the same.

 

[Revna Marr]

Allies: Darth Caedes // Srina Talon // Gerwald Lechner
Enemies: The Lord of Hunger
​

At first, it seemed as though their ritual might proceed as planned - even with the arrival of the strange figure that had attacked them all so quickly. Revna entrusted the Dark Councilor Gerwald with their protection, but almost as soon as their enemy’s lightning had been captured and repurposed, the situation shifted and became a little more dire as the stranger made it clear that he was not going to be so easily dismissed.

The more the situation unfolded around and near Revna, the more she felt the Force shift and distort. This newcomer, whoever the feth he was, felt completely unnatural to her senses. The ever so subtle familiarity still lingered however, that tug of hunger that seemed to flit in and around his form, but she could not quite piece everything together - not yet, anyway.

What she could tell, however, was that this being was old - and contained immense power. He was certainly not someone to shrug off or ignore, and he was making his presence very known and noticeable. He was there to disrupt their ritual, by any means necessary it would seem - which meant that now everyone involved in the ritual, including her, had to deal with this situation first.

What happened next, happened in near the blink of an eye.

As the ground around them cracked open and released gases and fumes into the air, Gerwald made his initial attack. He was a sight to behold, fierce and bestial - lacking the more fanciful movements that other Sith were known for. His opponent met his attack by driving his blade straight into the ground, resisting the onrush of the Dread Wolf’s fury. Feeling that their foe was properly distracted, at least for the moment, Revna returned her attention to Caedes and Srina so they could continue onward with the ritual and the planting of the precious Seed in their grasp.

Words spoken by the stranger drifted into Revna’s sharp ears; he seemed to be speaking more to Gerwald than to anyone else, but she still kept a fraction of her attention on him. He was a loose end, a variable that could not be accounted for in the moment, and it made him dangerous to what they were trying to do.

That was when she felt something else change - something negative being brought to bear, into existence. Eyes of fire tore from the face of her King to the figure, then to the hand that was raised and directed towards them. The gauntlet he wore was starting to glow a sickly green hue - the color of death, of undoing. Warning flashed within her mind, her soul, as servants of the stranger were dispatched to distract Gerwald, while he turned his focus on her, Caedes and Srina.

As he muttered words, declarations of what he supposedly was, she saw the light on the gauntlet flair…and then she felt it. The pull, the tug on everything that she was…her very existence, and the energy around her. It was being drawn in towards him, like a vacuum. He was targeting them, and the energy that was being placed into the ritual.

Was this what my victims felt too, when I drained them of life and essence? When I fed upon them? Revna wondered internally for a brief moment as she processed what was transpiring. She started to feel energy, life, power…being drawn from the Seed that her fingers were still touching, and a strange surge of protective need washed over her.

Revna reacted on instinct, her mind calm despite the situation. This ability the stranger wielded mirrored her own Void Hunger. It sapped energy, vitality, life…essence from others, from everything. Just like she could. It was attracted to the flow of energy that connected Caedes, Revna, and Srina together.

But for a very brief moment, the Void Hunger that existed like a black hole within the Sith woman, flared - its power, its pull, magnetic and far beyond any sort of power Revna had ever revealed or wielded before. Neither Srina, nor Caedes, nor even Gerwald, no one who knew her - would have recognized that power. It was beyond her, yet imbued with every part of her being.

Seeking tendrils, voracious and bottomless tethers of Hunger, invisible to all except for those powerful enough to see it - snapped out and attempted to draw the stranger’s own towards itself, towards her. Revna was unprepared for what happened - it was as if her own Void had a mind of its own, a will of its own. It saw something worth consuming, and went for it.

You're not the only one with Hunger… rippled a distorted voice within Revna’s mind, ripping through her soul - a voice that was not hers, echoing through the tether bonds between her, Caedes, and Srina.

The sensation was akin to being spiritually ripped in half - tugged one way and then another violently. Her Void tried to feed, and yet she felt herself being drained at the same time. She resisted the fullness of the Hunger as it sought to overtake her, her face contorting in a grimace of strength and desperation as she tried to keep a hold of herself. There was fear laced within her determination to protect the Seed, protect her King, her Dread Mother. Fear that if she truly let go…then she would not be able to stop what might happen next. Truthfully, she didn't really know what could happen...and she wasn't entirely certain she wanted to find out.

Please hurry Gerwald. Distract this fething monster… I don’t know how long I can keep doing this…

 

[Tamsin Graves]

OBJECTIVE III
// CALLSIGN: Ronin-2 //​

Location: Brosi, Orbit
Theme: Highway to Hell
Wearing: Space Suit
Flying: 'Dûr'ashaarai' Starfighter
Tag: Bella | Kaila Irons | Darth Malum of House Marr

"Sheilds are down….Brilliant missiles on course….opening a barrage of standard turboloader fire!" The beast growled into Tamsin's mind as her eyes remained closed as she mentally guided the brilliant missiles to their target Mirage 2.

Rage and anger flowed through Tamsin as her missiles saw the target ahead she thirsted to watch the brilliant missiles light up the void in front of her. Teeth gnawed against teeth as they clinched as tight as they could. Impact in in 10…9..8….BOOOOOOM!

Before anything could Happen, a concussion missile slammed into the beast and screamed and howled in pain as heat spread across its whole outer skin. Its shields died more from the shock to the systems as nothing could detect the incoming missile a shot in the literal dark silent void.

The beast screamed so loudly in Tamsin's head she tensed up and her body began to shake violently. As the ship went into a full careening Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she slammed around the cockpit wildly. The beast couldn't focus and get its thrusters adjusted as the burning sensation ran all across it.

Tamsin began to bleed from the mouth as her teeth clinched tightly, she heard garbled words across the comms. She heard her sister's voice calling out to her. She didn't understand, she couldn't grasp the words her mind was spinning like the ship. She feel the ships pain as it ran through her, causing her to convulse.

Her mind faded to black as she couldn't withstand the G's of the spinning no call went out to Darth Malum of House Marr as she didn't get Kaila's message and her mind began to fade to black………

Something in the void called out to her….she was ready to die…..

Something deep down called out to her.

"YOU ONLY DIE WHEN I LET YOU!"

The voice screamed out to her.

"YOU ARE MINE!"

The beast spinning instantly stopped and it corrected itself. The pilot slumped in her seat caught between worlds. Then the Sopheric eyes opened burning like raging fire…..The beast shuddered but not because of the burning but because it's pilot was no longer the child but something that craved destruction and death more then it did. It knew what it was about to do and it scared the shit of him.

"Darr-Itah! This is your Dad!" A light familiar cackle that Darth Malum of House Marr had heard once upon a time on Exegol rang clear. "Turn your scanners in my direction and open fire with everything you got I will lead you to the Target!" Throttle forward the beast turned direction towards Bella being the paint for the target. If the kid was going to die today she was going to go out in a god damn blaze.

"I hope you like a game of chicken!"

​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Gerwald Lechner | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | @Madrona A'Mia | Lysander von Ascania | The Lord of Hunger
Location: Force Nexus - Objective 3 [Chaos]
____________________________________________________

Srina remained kneeling, unmoved by the chaos unfolding around her.

Even as the fury from her Wolf to call shattered the land, cracking earth, while seeking to drive back the sudden HUNGER that sought to consume—She did not look up. Her senses were becoming more attuned to Brosi and less toward the petty squabbling. Her fingers pressed deeper into the glowing glyphs, driving not only power into them but orders that would make this ritual space far more difficult to drain by one who was not part of it.

The glyphs were just as greedy as The Lord of Hunger , and they hummed with their purpose.

Wind twisted tighter around her in ribbons of shadow and ash that moved in a slow spiral. It wrapped the pale woman like a shroud, and her eyes closed while she turned inward. She could feel the pull of the void, the scavenging effect of the gauntlet the Sith Lord wielded, and her iron will manifested while she resisted. She would not give in to such a crude device, nor such wanton avarice, simply because he deemed himself endless. The words were woefully misguided to the point of being derisory simply because of the nature of the universe.

All things died, all things came to an end—and everything was subject to change.

Srina Talon did not flinch.

She did not respond with rage.

She did not speak.

The surge of unnatural gravity that pressed at her lungs and pulled at the essence of her being was staggering. It would have knocked a lesser force-user flat on their backside, but the weight of the Dark Side within her was heavier still. A tide that could not be easily drained, not with her bond to Darth Empyrean intact and the tethers she had to the people around her.

She resisted quietly at first, her pale skin growing paler, but eventually managed to establish a counter-current to keep herself strong. Srina had endured all manner of Force Drain over the years, some more effective than others. One of her students, Matteo Guo-Yian was afflicted by such a condition. She'd been exposed to it too many times to count… But her response was imperfect, with her focus split between ritual, mind, and body. All that was created, all that had come, could be fed to Psilofyr…Anything could be bent and twisted into fuel.

Her head rose slowly as the pressure peaked, eyes opening, gleaming like distant twin embers. There was still too much light in them from the power Darth Caedes had gifted, but it was dying down the more she channeled the Force into the glyphs. Where the hunger tried to devour, her presence became an anchor. Where the ritual frayed—She rewove the threads.

The Lord of Hunger worked with stolen power.

Srina relied on herself, the great unknown, and the strength of the Sith who stood with her. No matter how powerful this former member of the Order had become in her absence, one thing seemed to hold true. He was alone. He had come by himself, with tricks, and droids…But he was still…Alone.

They were not.

That became immediately apparent when Revna Marr had an almost adverse reaction. She did not falter, but the psychic connection they held flared with both chill and warning while hunger began to creep through that pathway. Something other burst from the woman beside her, and although Srina recognized it...She did not recognize it from Revna. Was it something that perhaps slept inside her?

Something ravenous, something that did not ask permission to come into this world. The pull between them snapped tight like a thread that had been pulled to its limit. The Force began to shift, not struggling, but caught in an overwhelming confluence of "Hunger" meeting "Hunger" with abandon. Srina could not yet stand, not while maintaining the integrity of the ritual. As powerful as she was, she could not do all things. She could not protect herself and the Seed, the Seed and the Ritual, herself and the others…Not without something giving way. Something would break.

Her mind settled on Revna as if it were made of little more than soft rainfall. Not to stop, still, or control her—But to ground her and offer a place of shelter in the center of a proverbial storm. <<…It's all right…>>

The words were coupled by Srina feeding more of herself into the glyphs of the ritual. She would not let them fail…Not when they were so close. <<Stay with us…>>, she murmured to Revna, reaching mentally for her in a way that offered structure and focus. This way, the young woman might be able to brace herself against what was coming. Srina did not encourage the raven-haired woman to deny the Hunger; rather, her intention would hold the phantom sensation of wielding it.

Srina…Caedes…They would not let Revna fall.

More importantly, Srina believed that Revna would not let herself fall. She was fiercely protective of the things that mattered to her. That…Was something they had in common.

<<You are stronger than it. Let go…You are not alone.>>

She could hear the sounds of Gerwald Lechner fighting the enemy, distracting, while obeying the command she had given. To take care of this Sith Lord cleanly. She didn't know if her wolf to call could handle him on his own, but hopefully, they wouldn't have to find out much longer. Gerwald was extremely capable. Moreso, than most gave him credit for. Her eyes shifted to Caedes…. Then back to Revna.

The little one might just be all that stopped the ritual from collapsing.

Srina could only repair it so much.

<<Let go.>>

Spoiler: Equipment

Wyvern Shadow (Armor) Rebreather Wedding Ring Sronias, A Queen's Ring Mother's Wrath Terentatek Body Gloves Karve Dropship

 

[Seraphina Pryde]

Location: Shoengen - Brosi
Thread Objective: Storm the Tower
Mission Objective: Activate the signal beacon.
Allies: Tova Zyl
Enemies: Lysander von Ascania Lucette Madrona A’Mia

"The field will never be clear, Knight-Sergeant, we need to push forward. Steady, but quick. These things are a nice distraction on the Sith's part. But they can only be a distraction. Worse lies ahead I guarantee."

“Right!” Seraphina called back, her voice taut with resolve as she spun on her heel. With a focused breath, the Knight flicked her wrist in an elegant overhand motion, sending one of her disc-shaped lightsaber chakrams whirling through the air. The silver-white plasma ring sliced into a centipedal abomination mid-lunge, bisecting its glossy black carapace with a hiss of molten chitin and a spray of acidic fluid. From there, the blade circled back, spiraling through the miasma as a luminous halo before Seraphina reached up and caught it in a flourish—grip tight, stance firm, and eyes already scanning for the next threat.

“BT-7 and KX-88, clear a path forward!” Seraphina called out, lifting her chin as her voice cut cleanly through the chaos. The blastomech gave a cheery beep in reply, before opening up on the swarm with its head-mounted heavy rotary blaster while the security droid burned a path through with its flamethrower, the hornets giving terrible, high-pitched death squeaks as their burning husks spiraled to the ground.

It was only then that a youthful figure arrived, opening the hideous swarm like a boat parting fetid water in its path.

A Sith.

Seraphina didn’t hesitate, her gaze narrowing with focus. With a sharp grunt, she launched the lightsaber chakram back into the air in an swift overhand throw towards the Sith who had just arrived ( Lucette ), hefting a large-framed flamethrower within her grasp. Fifteen meters away from its target, the disc-shaped lightsaber sliced through the air with blinding velocity, aimed to destroy the flamethrower within the acolyte’s grasp. Although Seraphina was several inches shorter than her, she immediately recognized from various cues that the Sith appeared to be a youth. And yet, she was already powerful enough to command the Dark Side with no small amount of confidence.

In that regard, Seraphina realized that she herself was little different.

At that point, another shadow ( Lysander von Ascania ) manifested within the chaos, further away than the first, yet set in a more threatening posture.

Seraphina turned sharply, the movement fluid and poised as a dancer in the moment before the final step. Her left hand rose, fingers splayed in an elegant but forceful arc as the second Sith fired a plasma torpedo launched from the heavy weapon in his grasp. Brow furrowing in focus, Seraphina pressed her will outward to veer the torpedo off its trajectory with the Force as if caught in an invisible gust of wind. The torpedo detonated a heartbeat later, going off within the swarm ahead to engulf a cluster of insectoid creatures in a churning blossom of white-hot plasma and searing gas. Chitin ruptured, wings melted mid-beat, and limbs were turned to blackened stumps as the explosion tore through the crowd!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Seraphina Pryde’s Battle Suit
• Seraphina Pryde’s Lightsabers
• G-2 Imperial Standard Blaster
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Power Cell (4)
• NZ All-Purpose Viral Suppressant Type II
• Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• FAE/MDE-02-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Concussion Explosive (2)

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Her //:
//: Obj 1 - Defend the Tower //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equipment //:
//: Bow & Arrows //: Cybernetic Eye //: Jacket //: Arrows of Absence x 24 //: Bag of Absencite x 5ea //: Sword //:
//: Non Transferable "Equipment" //:
//: Ava'kash Brand //: Emperor's Echo //:

Allyson continued searching. She followed the trail of blood, each smear becoming fresher as she drew closer. Allyson paused, listening to the machines in the air, and realized what was happening. She was being closed off, trapped on this floor. For a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of her target. She ran as fast as she could down the last bit of corridor — but she was too late.

Feet skidded to a halt as the door slammed in front of her. A loud bang would echo as her fist hit the thick metal wall. Allyson said nothing and looked around the locked room she had just been trapped in.

There wasn't much of a way out except through the next panel. After a few tense laps around the room, it hit her—mechu deru could override the lock.

Before she moved, something else caught her attention. It was a voice, soft, meek, and familiar. It caused the Corellian to pause. Captain. A title she hadn't been called in some time. To be fair, she had been named Commander longer, but Captain would have been more intimate. Only a handful knew her by that rank.

Allyson leaned up against the door. The bow's string relaxed as the arrow remained knocked but not drawn. She didn't answer right away. Her mind tried to piece together the faces that would have called her Captain.

One was already dead. She'd loved her—more than she ever should have.

There were a few more, their faces lost to time, but another one she didn't want to believe was on the other side.

The past had a funny way of showing itself.

"Haven't heard that in a while." Allyson chuckled. "You know, you're lucky you spoke up when you did. I was going to open the door myself and swiftly finish off what I started."

The arrow returned to the quiver and the bow to her back. If the doors suddenly opened, it wouldn't take much for the Corellian to be battle-ready.

Arms folded as the leather of the old rogue squadron logo stretched on her back. She wondered who was behind the door. She had no intel on the woman, beyond what she looked like in that room. Maybe it would have been a better idea to let her talk, but Allyson was always a shoot-first, ask-questions-later kind of Corellian.

She was ordered to kill, no survivors. Allyson Locke was a good soldier.

"So, color me curious—why do you know me as Captain? My past is a little jumbled in my head, and I don't often get to meet someone from my late teens, early twenties." She chuckled.

Knowing for as long as she's lived already and only looking barely thirty, things had to be confusing.

"I will warn you, depending on your answer — I might still follow my orders…" She paused, knowing that the person on the other side was someone she knew, someone who had at one time been a comrade and potentially a friend.

"I promise, I'll make it fast and you won't feel anything."

 

[Arbiter]

//: Jacen Breska Quinn Varanin Saltare Dothon | Allies: Sith Order //:

//: Orbit, Brosi //:
//: Attire //:
//: Objective II - Seize the Means of Production!//:
​

---

The ship’s command deck was quiet. No heartbeats. No breath. Just the steady hum of systems and soft flickers of light from the haloscreens surrounding Arbiter. Casting shifting reflections over its obsidian chassis. The droid stood alone at the viewport. Watching the chaos unfold far below over Brosi. A wasteland of ash, fire, and infection.

[ Incoming Message ]

A soft chime echoed as the directive came through. The sender: Quinn Varanin . Arbiter didn’t sigh. It didn’t huff. But the whine of its servo joints as it folded its arms was unmistakably irritated. A soft, static-laced groan from deep within its vocoder. Without a word, Arbiter raised its right hand. The haloscreens reacted immediately. Merging into three synchronized panels before its faceplate. Lines of data streamed vertically as the yellow hue around its eye lenses shifted. Bleeding into red.

A harsh mechanical voice grated from its vocoder. “Glorious. Another catastrophe. Units in the DeathDrop. Survive… or they don’t.”

The lights dimmed briefly before transitioning to a calm blue. Arbiter’s voice softened. “We did say we would support. Commitment matters… even in chaos.”

A flicker. Violet. Tainted with static. “Waste of resources. At this rate, I’ll need a second backup core just to store all the incompetence.”

It’s optic pulsed. Shifting now to a steady green. Mechanical, but carried a faint trace of encouragement. Quietly optimistic. “What do we have to lose? A few resources? Perhaps. But every unit deployed has a chance to shift the tide. It’s worth it.”

Colors rippled across its optics before finally settling on a cold white. “Efficiency isn’t just numbers. Sometimes, it’s trust.” Its head tilted slightly. The droid’s left arm swept across the air. Dismissing all but one screen. “Contact any active duty units in the sector. Direct them to assist TK-710. Mr. Breska.”

Within moments, a sharp series of chirps confirmed the request. Orders relayed. Targets received. Reinforcements deployed. The screen pulsed once. Arbiter’s white eyes locked on the data feed. It tapped a single digit through the projected screen.

[ CONFIRM ]

Its photoreceptors pulsed again. Cycling through different colors, before settling once more on an irritated orange glow. Arbiter didn't need to be here. But apparently, it was the only one who read the damn mission briefings. “Let’s see how this plays out.”

From high orbit, two gunships broke formation. Peeling off from the fleet with engines flaring bright against Brosi’s sky. Dropping into atmosphere fast, no formation. Just brute force through clouds choked with ash and debris. The lead gunship opened mid-descent. Releasing four drop pods in quick successions.

The pods screamed through the air, trialing vapor and flame. A full four, unit squad, slammed into the battlefield near TK-710’s last known location. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Soil cracked, dust clouds emitted outward from the impact zones. The pod doors hissed open. Troopers stepped out, weapons ready.

Two more massive drop pods followed. Larger than the first, burned like twin comets. BOOM. BOOM. The ground shook as it made contact with the surface. Wrecking the terrain. The pods cracked open like eggshells. Steam venting out.

From within, two LK Pred-X battle droids stalked forward. Their red optics swept the field. Scanning. Stun blasters primed. Claws flexing as they awaited orders. A message was relayed onto TK-710’s HUD. Scrolling across the bottom of his interface:

[ Incoming Message: CT-312 ]
[ You’re Welcome. ]
[ Try not to die. ]

 

[Selrik Lorcas]

OBJECTIVE 2 - SEIZE THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION​

Well, that wasn't good.

The floor beneath his feet had started to bounce, launching him and the others who weren't strapped in off their feet every couple of seconds. Judging by what he could see of the battlefield map, the great beast that had borne many of the enemy beasts to the battlefield was bounding across it in the direction of his artillery position. In his wake he left a torrent of death and destruction that a creature of such size could do with ease. Add in the torrents of fire and other abilities it seemed to possess, and this wasn't a situation that his forces were going to find easy to deal with.

His mind raced through potential solutions to this. With the shield still up, they couldn't call for the weapons fire necessary to end the threat of the beast. However, with it lumbering across the battlefield, they could, potentially, do something to at least slow it down.

"Captain!" he shouted as he moved to a seat and strapped himself in. "Have everyone strap in and then I want you to ram us right into that things legs."

"What?" the captain asked, clearly not believing the order.

"Do it now! We must keep it from getting on top of the artillery completely!"

"But, sir, we'll- ""Obey the order, Captain, or I'll have you demoted!"

The man gulped, visibly so, but nodded and turned back to his post, moving to his own seat to strap in.

"Everyone strap in!" he called over the vehicle's interior comms. "Shields are holding steady. Empress protect us."

The Bastion changed its course on the field and headed directly for the beast as it moved across the battlefield. No easy task as with each of its movements they were all jolted and jostled about. Several walkers were finding it difficult to stay upright, even with their more advanced gyroscopic systems. They managed, the ones that weren't destroyed by the great lumbering beast, but it wasn't easy.

The Bastion drew closer, and closer, until it collided with one of the legs of the great Garza . They didn't get to see the end result of that, as the collision and the beast's own momentum sent them tumbling across the battlefield like a log rolling down a hill. They spun and churned and flipped, crushing friends and foe alike, before eventually coming to a stop far off from where they had been moments before. Everything was spinning in Selrik's head, and he retched up his lunch onto the seat next to him (the Bastion was currently on its side) before blinking several times and trying to get his bearings.

"Captain! Status!"

There was a lot of groaning from the front cockpit, but no response from the captain, so Selrik unstrapped himself and maneuvered in his seat so he could stand up. Looking towards the front of the vessel, he could see that the captain was apparently unconscious, though the driver seemed to be somewhat alert.

"Check on the captain," he said to the driver. "We need to see if we can get flipped back upright and we'll need his expertise for that."

"Yes, sir."

Selrik intended to check on the communications officer, but before he did, he heard something rather glorious on the comms.

"This is Inferno squad. The shield generator is down. Captain Cooridg ( Ronhar Tane ), Selrik Lorcas , boost my transmission to the fleet, the shield is DOWN."​

"Shields are down…" He grabbed the comms and immediately called out to Squesha , Marlon Sularen , Ronhar Tane , Calin Rakel and the rest of the Imperial Fleet. "This is Grand Moff Lorcas to the Confederation fleets! The planetary shield is down! Deploy additional ground forces immediately and any available fleet vessels direct planetary bombardment on the great beast at the coordinates I'm about to transmit immediately!"

Might or might not help, just depended on who was available to fire on the ground. But hey, the shields being down was definitely a boon.

Meanwhile, inside the Production Facilities...

Well, they'd made it in.

The outer wall had come down two minutes ago, a controlled detonation that punched a hole wide enough for Varro's squad to pour through. The Sith hadn't wasted time. They were dug in around the internal bulkheads of the production floor, behind converted catwalks and turned-over fuel carts. Improvised, yes, but effective enough when paired with the Force and a few sadistic acolytes with nothing to lose.

Lieutenant Lyenne Varro, TK-2749, stormed through a mess of broken piping and industrial waste, blaster raised, adrenaline kicking hard through her chest. The comm chatter was a mess. Screams, static, callouts; half the squad was already out of position, pinned in crossfire.

"Push forward! Breach team, with me!" she shouted, ducking under a sparking conduit and raising her rifle toward the flicker of crimson light up ahead.
A bolt sizzled past her helmet. She didn't flinch.

Another shout echoed from the gantry above, Sith-trained, by the way they moved. Fast. Unnatural.

She didn't give them time to pounce. A sharp burst of return fire struck center mass. The body tumbled off the catwalk and slammed into the floor beside her, robes still smoldering.

"Clear the upper level," she barked to the remaining two on her flank. "Cut off the vantage. Now!"

They broke off to climb, and she moved deeper into the main storage block: what was left of it. Crates spilled across the floor like toppled tombstones, most of them cracked open or burned out. There was blood on the floor.

The far corridor burst into flames.

She ducked behind a conveyor housing, ripping the pin from a grenade and sending it sailing toward the barricade ahead: some makeshift shield wall built from cooling coils and durasteel plating. The explosion rattled the facility hard enough to make the floor shudder beneath her boots.

Screams. Metal crashing. A pause.

She surged forward, firing as she went.

One Sith trooper crawled out of the smoke, hand outstretched, eyes wild with panic. She put a bolt through his forehead before he could beg.

"TK-2749 to command," she said through clenched teeth. "We've breached the main line. Engaging Sith holdouts at Storage Annex Delta. Resistance is heavy."

No response. She didn't wait.

Ahead, the light shifted: red, cold, humming. A Sith. Masked. Lightsaber active.

She didn't slow. She fired. Again. Again. The saber intercepted two shots, but the third clipped the Sith's leg and dropped them behind a crate.

A shout echoed behind her; Reevis, her squad sergeant, bleeding from the arm but still firing. "Lieutenant! Left side's collapsing!"

"I see it," she growled, already dropping to a knee and aiming toward the breach. "Hold the corridor! They're trying to flank!"

A wave of kinetic force slammed into her, lifted her clear off her feet, threw her across the floor and into a wall with enough force to knock the air from her lungs.

Everything blurred. Her helmet was cracked. Her ears rang.

But she got up.

Because this facility belonged to the Empire now.

OUTFIT: Moff Standard | GEAR: Blaster Pistol | COMPANIONS: Imperial Sentinels x4
TAGS: Garza | Ronhar Tane | Saltare Dothon ​

 

[Darth Virelia]

Tags - Brent Warnel , Braith Achlys
Equipment - Tyrant's Kiss, Tyrant's Embrace, 3x CV-1 Gas Grenade (The Choking Veil)​

She watched it happen—the unraveling.

Brent's movements lost all precision, consumed by raw emotion. The way his hands struck his helmet, the snap of his breath, the tremor in his voice. It was a spiral. A mind cracking open under pressure it could no longer control. A man dragging the ghosts of the past into battle as if blood could exorcise them. And yet… he didn't run. He charged.

The grenades came first. One, a Force-breaker—metal death for the kind of beings who felt too much. The other, a thermal detonator—blunt devastation. Most Sith would have braced. Or run. Virelia did neither.

She moved.

With a burst of speed that left flame in her wake, she sprinted directly into the fray. Not away. Not around. Through. The grenades arced, but she bent beneath their trajectory like a shadow tearing across light. The Force-breaker slammed into the wall behind her, discharging nothing into her blood, not even a flicker. But the mixed thermal of Braith's flames and the grenade caught the edge of her sprint—its heat licked the right side of her armor, blistering the phrik plating and sending a shock of pain beneath the carapace.

Pain was a luxury. She had none left to spare.

She was on him before he could plant his feet, flying through the crescendo of force-imbued flame and iron-willed fury as if she was a goddess of fire.

Her hands were bare. No saber, just movement—lethal and pure. With a sharp flex of her fingers, the BWE fighting claws emerged from her gauntlets. Four gleaming blades on each hand, synthetic and silent, curled like talons kissed with firelight. She met him head-on, as death made efficient.

She attempted to strike low with her left, aiming to slice across his thigh—disable, slow, control the space. Her right hand came high, attempting a slash across his chest in a diagonal arc meant to test the limits of that beskar, not shatter it. She fought like someone already certain of the outcome. Certain that Braith could follow up as Virelia herself seized the moment.

"You are not the first man to beg the Force to take him," she said, voice even as her claws cut the air. "And you will not be the last I deny that mercy."

 

[Bella]

Location: Shoengen - Brosi
Thread Objective: The Battlefield is Constant Chaos
Mission Objective: Take out the cargo and logistics ships in the Sith fleet.
Allies: N/A
Enemies: Kaila Irons Tamsin Graves

Bella drove her interceptor up and around, her senses dispersed across multiple layers of awareness. The Baroness’ delicate, gloved fingers glided across control surfaces while her thoughts calibrated systems, tracked sensor readings, and interpreted the twitch of a hostile vector through her electroscopes. Her breath remained even, even as she watched the enemy pilot ( Kaila Irons ) shift their vector to match her maneuver. She immediately processed the action, quickly sensing that they were attempting to create a tailing opportunity.

The Baroness intended to deny it.

Just after she reached the apex of her chandelle (before fully completing the maneuver), Bella pulled on the yoke, pitching her interceptor up and around into an inverted, belly-up position with the etheric rudders. A heartbeat later, she tap-engaged the SLAM for a split-second, counter-burning against her direction of travel to kill virtually all of her now-backward (previously forward) momentum in an instant. The sudden G-force from the maneuver tugged at her, but she was ready. Her core muscles clenched in a disciplined brace as blackness formed at the edges of her vision. She inhaled slowly through her nose, controlling her blood flow like a ballerina controlling breath between pirouettes.

For a split-second, the Aether Fairy hung silent and nearly still in the void.

Then, with a sharp intake of breath, Bella gunned the starboard side auxiliary boosters, drifting laterally in space before re-engaging the primary ion engines while the Sith starfighter’s momentum carried it into the viewport—her kill window. She immediately laid on the cannons, unleashing a broadside burst of ten ultrachrome-coated HEAT rounds into the bandit’s vector in a slashing attack aimed to rip through the rear section of the craft’s portside wing and thereafter, its engines. From there, Bella pressed her starboard side auxiliary booster-driven lateral drift further before snap-rolling her interceptor back into an upright orientation.

<<"That's some toy you got there, pilot, that paint standard issue?">>

Bella’s voice came in low and silken, if slightly amused.

“No. I had it done to match the coffin you’ll be flying home in.”

All the while, Mirage Two and Three sliced and dipped through the asteroid field like blades through water. Mirage Two’s aft-mounted dual laser cannon spun on its turret, releasing a tight burst that intercepted the last missile on their tail. The detonation flared briefly, lighting the rocks in stark relief.

From there, the last buzz droid clattered free of One’s hull—blasted apart by a low-powered laser burst in a glimmer of smoking shrapnel. However, the damage had been done. Mirage One’s rear stabilizers were half-gone, and two of the heavy laser cannons sparked violently, having been torn from their mounts.

Still, they were alive, and with the cover provided by Bella, were soon vectoring towards their targets.

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: Aether Fairy

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Hull: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Armament
  
  • Light Cannon Hardpoint (4) - Wingtip
    
    • FAE/SW-19 Light Linear Motor Autocannon
    • FAE/SW-19 Light Linear Motor Autocannon
    • FAE/SW-15 Light Transcendent Disruptor Cannon
    • FAE/SW-15 Light Transcendent Disruptor Cannon
  • Missile Pod (2)
    
    • FAE/WH-05-S3 Universal Stealth Missile - Plasma Warhead (2)
    • FAE/WH-05-S3 Universal Stealth Missile - Concussion Warhead (1)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • FAE/A-09 Anti-G Suit
  • NZ/BP-45 Heavy Blaster Pistol 'Pistis'
    
    • Attachments
      
      • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Ammunition
      
      • Power Cell (3)
      • Tibanna Gas Canister

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Just after reaching the apex of her chandelle maneuver, Bella pitches her interceptor up and around with the etheric rudders, inverting the craft.
• A split-second later, she tap-engages the SLAM for a split-second, counter-burning it against her direction of travel to arrest virtually all of her now-backward (previously forward) momentum in an instant.
• Bella engages the starboard side auxiliary boosters, sending her interceptor drifting laterally in space.
  
  • As Kaila’s starfighter passes into her kill window, Bella fires a fully automatic burst of ten ultrachrome-coated HEAT rounds into her vector, aiming for the rear section of the craft’s portside wing and thereafter, the engines.
    
    • HEAT rounds are designed to engage armored targets through the use of a shaped charge explosive which follows the path of penetration.
    • The energy-reflective nature of the ultrachrome that coats each slug repels energy fields and gives them an excellent chance of passing through energy shields.
• Bella continues her starboard side auxiliary booster-driven lateral drift before snap-rolling her interceptor back into an upright orientation.
• Mirage Two shoots down the brilliant missile with the aft-mounted dual laser cannon.
• Mirage Two and Three are both vectoring towards the Sith cargo and logistics ships.