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

[Marlon Sularen]

A L L_Y O U R_B A S E_A R E_B E L O N G_T O_U S
Objective III : The Battlefield is Constant Chaos

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
BROSI, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Spoiler: Sularen's Fleet

TASK FORCE THRAWN
Main Fleet : INV Sularen's Revenge [084|100] INV Retribution [100|100] INV Judicator [100|100] INV Ironfist [100|100]
Starfighter Compliment [Squadrons] : TIE/IAx Advance Interceptors [29/33] TIE/DT Destroyer [12/12] TIE/ss Supremacies [2/5] TIE/sb Strike Bombers [3/3] GAT-36 Imperial Blastboats [0/2]

As the INV Ironfist positioned itself in orbit of Brosi, it's crew began to notice a spatial anomaly at the edge of the battlefield which only grew stronger and stronger as each minute passed. Before long, information concerning the anomaly would appear on Sularen's holographic display of the battlefield in addition to ongoing reports from other portions of the Fleet that the Sith were fielding some sort of heavy weaponry further into the asteroid field. However those were matters that the others would have to deal with for the time being as the Supreme Commander had to deal with the Sith Star Destroyer that was currently charging his Flagship.

As the first wave of Starfighters and Gunships made their approach towards the Oblation, the Sith proceeded to deploy their own wave of Starfighters to confront them even though their Starfighters were outnumbered by the Imperials. However before both groups of starfighters made contact, a string of red lightning emerged from the hull of the Oblation and decimated up to four Squadrons of Starfighters and Gunships, disrupting the Imperial Starfighter Formation right as the Sith Starfighters made contact. Despite the best efforts of the remaining Imperial pilots, the Sith in an impressive display of coordination were able to make quick work of them taking out all but one Squadron of then ten Squadrons initially deployed by the Judicator and Retribution.

As the Sith and Imperial Starfighters clashed, the Oblation itself flipped on it's horizontal axis and slowly rose up to a higher plane then the Sularen's Revenge as it made it's final approach before unleashing a barrage of turbolaser fire upon the Imperial Flagship. In response the Sularen's Revenge's main batteries came to life and returned an even greater barrage of heavy fire upon the Sith Warship unleashing it's powerful heavy turbolasers, ion canons and missiles upon the Sith Star Destroyer, while it's Anti-Starfighter weaponry began to open fire upon the Sith Starfighters that came close enough to the Imperial Flagship.

While satisfied at the course of the confrontation, Sularen found it weird that the Sith had dispatched a single Capital Ship to confront him. Then he suddenly remembered the red lightning that had taken out his initial wave of Starfighters and came to a realization. Before long he received a notification, as a small human-shaped object had been detected approaching the hull of the Sularen's Revenge at an increasing speed. Through the holographic display Sularen pinned the human-shaped object and forwarded it to the crews of all batteries that were in proximity to the object before sending them a single command via his comlink. "To those who are receiving this message. Your new priority is to target this object and destroy it before it can make impact."

Suddenly various Turbolasers opened fire upon the object followed by a few missiles as they attempted to stop the object's approach. With any luck it whatever was trying to strike the hull of Sularen's Flagship would be slowed down or outright vaporized by the sheer amount of firepower that had been unleashed by him.

Spoiler: TLDR

• Sularen is made aware of the growing Force Storm over Brosi and the unknown Sith heavy weapon hidden in the Asteroid Field
• The majority of the initial wave of Starfighters and Gunships launched by the Retribution and Judicator are destroyed by Carnifex's Sith lightning and the Xarûl Starfighters
• The INV Sularen's Revenge begins exchanging turbolaser fire and missiles with the Oblation.
• Sularen notices Carnifex approaching his Flagship and diverts a set of Turbolaser Batteries and Missile Launchers to either slow down his decent or destroy him entirely
• The INV Retribution and INV Judicator remain behind the INV Sularen's Revenge

[TIC] | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel | Squesha | Lord Rasnuhl | Selrik Lorcas
[SO] | Darth Carnifex | Elmindra Xitaar | Rowyna Galeway | Darth Malum of House Marr | Fiolette Yvarro | Taeli Raaf | Quinn Varanin
[Misc.] | Braze
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Against the overwhelming and concentrated firepower of the Sularen's Revenge, the Oblation could not withstand. It's shields held for a few volleys, but each sustained hit drained even greater chunks of the generator's energy reserves. With calm certainty, the captain ordered all munitions to be launched as rapidly as they could towards the enemy battlecruiser, knowing that it was ultimately a futile gesture. As the shields finally crumbled under the weight of the enemy attack, and the hull began to detonate with dozens of piercing blows, the crew did naught but begin to cant in prayer as their existence was engulfed in flames.

To the Dark Lord, the sacrifice of the Oblation and it's entire crew was a calculated maneuver. Without seeing, He sensed the destruction of His chariot at His back. The powerful combination of kyber and isotope-5 that fueled the starscourge reactor at the Oblation's heart releasing a tremendous amount of energy upon detonation. Reaching out, the Dark Lord seized upon this energy as it ejected out into empty space. The Oblation had been nowhere near the Sularen's Revenge to cause any damage when it was destroyed, but as before it's purpose was never to cause any actual harm.

Everything had been meticulously laid, and thus sacrificed, to bridge the Dark Lord's path.

That energy funneled down in the Dark Lord's wake, snaking like tendrils around Him until He was entirely obscured from view. The overwhelming concentration of energy also masked His own thermal register on any meaningful sensor, but it was unmistakable as to where He was as He continued to speed down towards the battlecruiser's hull. Turbolaser fire raked His path, subtle adjustments in His descent skirting by those that arced a little too far off the mark. For those batteries with better aim, a lance of that same energy He had taken from the Oblation's death shot out to pierce the turbolaser bolts as they soared through empty space.

A cascade of explosions, like the flak of anti-air cannons, heralded His arrival. Missiles too detonated as they came within striking distance, the Dark Lord having wreathed Himself so completely in highly chaotic and destructive energies that He more resembled a living meteor than a being of flesh and blood. A hundred meters before the hull, the Dark Lord suddenly shed Himself of the energy He'd coated Himself in. It fired out like a raining volley of energy, precisely aimed to strike at weapon emplacements near the epicenter of His landing.

Armor steaming with the sheer velocity of His descent, the Dark Lord reached out with both hands and slammed them palms-down on the phkalt composite hull He now stood upon. Even at a glance, it would've been impracticable and far too time consuming to simply cut through with His lightsaber, the metal beneath Him was too greatly resistant to such energies. But it was not pure phkalt, He could sense that through His physical connection with the metal. It was a composite hull, more than just phkalt was mixed into the composition.

His perception webbed out through the hull directly beneath Him, feeling the impurities and lesser metal laced throughout. The fault lines, the shatterpoints. All He had to do was focus on them with all of His might, and this battlecruiser's hull would open up to Him. For a monstrous warrior such as Him, this calculation unraveled quickly in His mind, His perception slowed to a crawl as He absorbed the information passing through Him from the Dark Side of the Force.

The first fault was easy to find. Lesser metal, not as durable, incorporated to reduce costs without sacrificing utility. An understandable trade, one that would hold up to scrutiny had it not come under His examination. Once the first had been found, the rest fell into place like dominoes. One after the other, bridged now by His perception as it wormed through the metal.

A crack, a splinter, a fracture.

Wider, wider, wider.

What was once as strong and resolute as the mountain, became as brittle as glass. All He needed to do now....

Was push.

Marlon Sularen | Ronhar Tane | Calin Rakel
Squesha | Lord Rasnuhl | Elmindra Xitaar
Rowyna Galeway | Darth Malum of House Marr | Taeli Raaf
Fiolette Yvarro | Braze ​

 

[Lor'Vekka]

Location: The Tower, Objective 1
​

It came as a shock to her system when her momentum was suddenly arrested. She’d been about to phase through the wall, to go back to her original goal, when everything was stopped. It annoyed her. Here she’d done everything she could not to have to harm Quinn, something that technically went against her orders, and she received no appreciation for that fact, only being called out as lacking manners. Might be true, manners were something that she ignored because of her past and their association with her being beaten for not being absolutely perfect. Once she’d gotten away from that, she’d chosen to abandon it.

While her momentum had been stopped, she could still move to some extent, her head turning to look towards the woman that had stopped her.

“I chose to leave you be, to not harm you, even though I should, by order, strike you down,” she said, her body starting to move in spite of the grip placed upon it as anger welled within her. “I gave you more than people have ever given me.”

She’d been polite, not engaging in actively trying to harm either her or her companion. Yes, she’d thrown the latter through a window, but she was certain he would recover from it and land on his feet as there was nothing further wrong with him. In spite of that, all they had done was try to harm her from the beginning. She’d been nice, and she was being repaid with a lack of kindness, and it was quickly eroding her view of Quinn.

It was subtle the way her body moved, at least at first. Barely shifting as she turned back towards the woman now accosting her body. But it would quickly become obvious that she was doing so despite the grip placed upon her. She resisted the pull towards the center of the room, even. Yes, everything about Quinn felt wrong now, and Vekka felt cold, cramped, as if a weight was being forced upon her, but that had been her whole life before the Empire had freed her from captivity.

“I– will not– endure this– AGAIN!”

From where it had fallen after stopping the strike from Delsin, her lightsaber, still ignited, launched itself. Despite her anger, despite her rage at being treated this way, there was still a tiny part of her that did not want to kill Quinn, and so the saber was aimed for the back of her thigh, intending to skewer it in a way that would make her leg useless to her for the time being, but wouldn’t kill her.

The red woman was angry.

OUTFIT: Armor | GEAR: Lightsaber
TAGS: Quinn Varanin ​

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn | PT-45 "COWL"

​

Now on all fours, the warform demanded recalibration that was delicate. For a few long seconds, he remained still, muscles coiling and continuing to shift. The feigned bounce backwards had been easy; but now, that moment was over. Only forward lay his path, like a predator stalking its target in the ruins of Shoengen.

While this was a vessel rarely called upon, the primal instinct thrumming was now prepared to guide his limbs with precision. And though the Force itself was suppressed around him, it wasn’t enough to veil the aura of seething fury pulsing from him, fanning outward.

The battlefield around continued to roar in chaos, clashes and cries capable of drowning out the loudest of distractions. The tremors beneath him and the cracked duracrete were undeniable. Nearby, stones splintered violently, shards scattering in response.

The glyphs in the ritual area flared, their lines no longer etched into the ground, but burned into blackened channels that pulsed arterial red. Even with the open wound on her hand, she let her fingers dig into the dirt, as if she might pull the planet's heart into her palms. Beneath her touch…

She could feel the vibrations of something moving, hear the earth shifting.

Her voice was pale and thin, drawn from the energy she spent burning the candle at both ends. She hardly looked like an Empress of anything, small, and kneeling in broken earth and ash…

"It begins…"

Yet before the battle's first draw had even been taken, the assassin had sensed one peculiar presence, one that was slowly becoming a constant he gravitated toward in his fractured existence. Even amid the storms that so often trailed in their Order's wake, from Echnos to Woostri, and now the scarred soil of Brosi, she remained: Srina Talon , the venerable Mother of the Sith.

Though his connection to the Force had been severed, he knew, in the depths of his being, that she had played a hand in this.

The seed burst open and Psilofyr rrRRrrreeeeaaachhed. The earth groaned beneath Darth Caedes. Shoots broke up through the dirt, pale and odd to behold, twining upward into the air. Vines and roots burgeoned up to shatter the duracrete thoroughfare and slither up the broken walls of nearby buildings. They curled in through windows and wrapped round the husks of long abandoned landspeeders. Alarms blared out like scared animals, then fell silent beneath the rapidly growing crush of Psilofyr's grasp. For miles, abruptly, life erupted across Brosi's surface, in its city streets and rural outskirts. Towers and superstructures bloomed with alien carpets of rapidly growing flowers and brightly colored fungi. Residential homes cracked and fell away beneath the succession of powerfully constricting root systems. Some were heaved into the air entirely, raised beneath growing trees like Psilofyr's fingertips pressing up and out of the soil below to hold them aloft.

Directly beneath their feet, the sapling of Psilofyr's main body stirred. It reached out from the pit they'd dug with wooden roots, growing, thickening, climbing toward the sky. Caedes craned his neck back to behold the massive plant's growth, observing as its bark shivered and mutated, not yet the titan it would become yet more already than any tree native to Brosi. Reverent, he turned to his Lady Revna. Psilofyr required more...!

And so, the planet convulsed, as though it were exhaling its dying breath before a cataclysmic rebirth, everything writhing around him like a storm of darkness.

Uneven breaths, mingled with the creak of cracked armor, it all rang like thunder in his ears. Lowering his frame, he folded his wings close, shifting his weight onto his back talon, and readying himself for the kill. Then, he thrust himself forward, closing the gap between prey and hunter. The Sangnir's torso twisted, as his foreclaw descended in a murderous diagonal arc, ready to deliver death like a promise. All the while, his senses stretched, ever alert, ready to parry, or meet any counterattack.

 

[Viers Connory]

//: CT-312 //: Tarre Priest //:
//: Attire //:
// Objective 2 //:
//: Bounty Hunting & TSO support //:

Pure, almost childish excitement bled from the Corellian.

The explosions, the adrenaline — everything fueled her little twin hearts as she waited for 312 to explain what was going on. She'd heard the mission briefing, sure, but most of it didn't make sense to her. Best to leave the delicate parts to the professionals.

The Mandalorian and the trooper exchanged words, and Viers did her best to follow along. But her attention kept drifting — to the creeping flood of undead inching closer with every second.

She glanced between the two warriors, who moved with a precision and speed she could hardly match. Titans, both of them. Another spark of giddy excitement flickered in her chest. This was her chance to prove herself.

"I'll stay here and take care of the hordes." She gave a crooked salute, barely suppressing the grin that tugged at her mouth.

It was then that the LX pred droid was introduced to her — and her jaw dropped. The mechanical beast radiated Force energy, and the moment she felt it, something inside her clicked. She understood what it needed — what she needed — to control it.

It was meant to carry the payload. A plan began to form: let it set the charges while she kept the undead at bay, then she'd retrieve the package herself. Clean and efficient — well, as clean as this chaos could get.

Placing a hand on the dog-like droid, Viers reached out with the Force.

Her thoughts sank into its metal mind, the connection flowing with ease. She was a Mechu Deru specialist, like her mother — or so people told her.
She'd never met the woman. Probably never would. But in moments like this, using the gift they shared, she liked to think maybe — just maybe—she could make her proud.

The droid's movements became fluid as it synchronized with her mind, darting forward to collect the charges and begin planting them around Depot 1.

Viers, meanwhile, stared out across the horizon. It boiled with motion —shambling, rotting bodies drawing closer. She ran to meet them.

The Force flooded her limbs, speeding her into a blur. She stopped at the edge of the oncoming wave, and something unnatural happened. Her feet were anchored to the ground. The stave in her hands flared to life, humming with raw energy. Luminous runes lit up her back, a deep network of glowing circles and etchings across her skin.

The Force bellowed from her core.

With a soundless roar, a shockwave exploded from her body, vaporizing the nearest ranks of the undead in an instant.

She tapped her comm with a steady hand.

<: First wave cleared. Charges nearly in place. Payload next. :>​

Gone was the giddy teenager they'd met just moments ago.

Viers stood tall, eyes sharp. Focused.

The next wave surged forward. She exhaled slowly, bringing her stave into a ready stance like a drawn blade. The Force stretched with her, time slowing to meet her rhythm.

It was going to be a long and beautiful night.

 

[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

Supernova

Time was, perhaps, the double-edged sword for everyone involved in the chaos. More time would inevitably lead to a fatigued Braith and a greater chance at Brent Warnel dealing with Darth Virelia one-on-one, as she'd rather move on than spend every ounce of her stamina on a singular individual, but if either of them would've known her from the time of the Great Galactic War in decades past they would've also known that she was quite a bit more likely to start drawing on the force more actively the longer it took her to end a fight rather than right away. The fire that'd climbed up the walls had been little more than an inkling of what she'd eventually choose to do if it started to look like she couldn't best the Mandalorian fighter in simple combat, though having the other Sith here also meant she felt less of a need to push herself given the likelihood that it'd simply overwhelm the man if she did - and there was nothing fulfilling about that.

In a way, really, these two were lucky Virelia cut in when she did, otherwise they would've found themselves learning firsthand just who she really was.

"If you wanted him dead you could've just asked." She grumbled.

Where he'd trapped one of her lightsabers with his bes'briik, and indeed the wrist attached to the hand that held it, he'd find that the magenta blade was suddenly nowhere to be seen and the length of chain he had entrapped her with was immediately slack as she thrust her arm towards him to loosen its hold. It didn't take anything more than simple intuition to understand she'd deactivated the lightsaber, removing much of the leverage he had on her, and following the forward momentum of her arm she sharply yanked it back to free it from his weapon as she stepped back. Any interest she had in fighting the man was snuffed out the moment she realized that Virelia intended to take him down while they clashed, her other lightsaber shutting off shortly thereafter, and she moved to connect her lightsabers at the base of their hilts once more as her focus faded. She'd envisioned a few more exchanges happening before the climax of the fight but understood that her tribal mentality wasn't one shared by many in the modern era.

Part of her wished she'd brought one of her crystals, to give her a second chance with him after the fact, but settled, in her mind, on something else instead.

 

[Braze]

Tags: Marlon Sularen

A L L _ Y O U R _ D A T A _ B E L O N G S _ T O _ M E
Objective III: The Battlefield is Constant Chaos
Gear: S.H.A.D.E.S. | Phantom Mist Projector | Gidgit | Code Breaker Card | Processor Pendant | Covert Compact | Nite Night Nails : POLISH | Deda-net | FSP - Besh | DUST Compact | In the Zone Compact​

Target: INV Sularen's Revenge
Bounty Link: Access Codes – INV Sularen's Revenge
License: Braze's Bounty Hunter License

An unsettling, almost nauseating weight settled over Braze... Somewhere just beyond the edge of his perception, a Force presence was flaring, vast and suffocating. The sensation was akin to staring into a black hole: heavy, cold, and impossible to ignore. Terrifying power was on its way in, and he recognized that particular force signature at a glance.

He wasn't Imperial by loyalty, but the shriek of tearing metal and the shudder of the deck under his boots made it clear that lives were about to be lost en mass.

He knew all too well what Darth Carnifex could do to a ship. and if he was here on a war path he knew very little would be left in his wake.

The damage ripping through Sularen's ship was not abstract; it was here, now, and he was standing in its path. Prioritizing life over politics, Braze turned from the tactical console and began moving with very purposeful speed. The vacuum would be an immediate killer if the hull was breached. He needed a face mask, something to buy him air, time, and a fighting chance.

Emergency lockers weren't far. As the klaxons wailed overhead, he ducked down a narrow maintenance corridor, eyes already scanning for the bright hazard stripes marking life-support gear.
Braze's boots struck the deck in a clipped rhythm moving with a fast yet purposeful stride just short of a run. Moving too fast would draw attention. Moving too slow would get him caught on the wrong side of a blast door if the compartment sealed. He lifted his datapad, fingers moving in swift, practiced strokes as he queued the final step to fulfill his side of the bargain for Her . The message sent, he didn't slow—his stride carrying him toward what he knew, without doubt, he would very soon need.

He kept to the narrower access corridors, where crew rushing in the opposite direction barely spared him a glance. Through the haze of alarm lights, he spotted the hazard-striped hatch marking one of the maintenance bays.

Inside, the space was a tangle of storage racks and emergency gear, half-emptied by other crew scrambling to secure themselves. He ignored the muttered voices and the shuffle of boots, heading straight for the locker row. His hand found the release lever, and the door clanged open to reveal what he was looking for; a standard-issue flight suit folded over a support bar, helmet hanging from its neck seal.

He slid the suit on over his clothes in a few quick motions, the fabric light but snug as it sealed along his wrists, ankles, and throat. The oxygen mask came next within the form of a compact rebreather clipped from the wall and locked into the suit's chest port. The moment it pressurized with a soft hiss, Braze felt the faint pressure shift in his ears.

Another shudder rolled through the ship like a hammer blow close enough to feel in his bones. The Sith presence was closer now, a gravitational weight dragging at the edges of his mind. Braze turned for the exit, his pace quickening. He knew where he needed to be when the hull gave way.

---

-- This post is made in accordance with the Bounty Hunter's Code. The target's toggle was active at the time of posting. This post includes a valid license and links directly to the bounty as required by board rules. --​

 

[Delsin Shaw]

|| Objective I ||
|| Protect the Tower ||
|| Allies: | Quinn Varanin | ||
|| Enemies: | Lor'Vekka | Bastard ||
|| Equipment: | Armor | Mask | Ring | Sword | Energy Blade | ||
|| Theme ||
​

The electrified lattice of lightning and debris was handled easily by the Imperial in front of me. The barrier of the force generated by the individual acted like a shield. The debris falling away and the lightning dissipating. A scoff escaped my throat as the sword brought around in a soft flourish to be held in front of me. The next words out of his mouth were proposing that turning one's blade against the Sith was a choice. He really knew nothing. I took the teachings of the Sith, and used them for my own gain. I was held by such words. The Jedi were slaves to their code, and the Sith were consumed by such things. I held no such weaknesses.

"Shame?"

The only word I could utter before the temperature dropped around me. As if the very air itself was commanded by the man. The formation of spears of super-cooled water within the air formed around me. Creating an Iron Maiden weapon in the force. Drawn down into my position. This bastard of my kin was going to keep playing this long game of the force. That was not going to be how this fight was decided. As they came down, I leapt out of the way into the air. The wave of Ice that came from the man followed after. Rising spikes protruding that barely reached me in the heightened position. As was his game plan from earlier. Strike from two sides at once. A Pincer set on my position.

In the air, my body vibrated. Spawning from me was a self. A shadow that formed to be exactly like me in every way. One of my selves grabbed onto my arms. Swinging me around his form to launch me at the direction of this Blackened Knight. The self sheathed himself in lightning through the air and cross the distance in the time an eye could blink. His form becoming the spear thrown at the man. The self that had swung this spear, landed down upon where the ice had once been. Knowing he wielded a Sith Blade, informed me that Lightning would likely not be the best tactic. Instead, focusing through the force. My sight amplified and targeting what I could. Searching for that fate line. The simple string for which would be cut to shatter him. The Self acting as the current distraction.

"I hold no shame of any Cult. I draw no sins of the Sith."

The voice carried across the distance. Seeking to not just learn, but to understand why such one of my brothers would side so easily with Imperials. I would not judge too quickly. For I knew that we each had our own reasons. I sought to find out the truth of what was before me.

"Sith consume all they don't destroy. They have their uses. What would the Imperials offer that the Sith cannot?"

 

[Horus Rhyne]

Location: Brosi
Ally: Sophia of House Marr

The pain was flaring through his body and he felt it seep into their connection. He didn't want her to hurt, so he began to close off that connection between them. To make sure she wouldn't be in pain... but even as she exploded his hand gently reached out, fingers softly tracing along her jaw and looked up at her.

"You are brilliant..." He murmured and that caused a trickle of blood to flow down the corner of his mouth. "Absolutely brilliant... you haven't been told enough how perfect you are."

His eyes only saw Sophia.

He grimaced as she tried to close his wound. The Voidstone was preventing her from even reaching into him, the same way Horus couldn't call on the Force right now at all.

"It's okay..." Drawing one of her hands to him, kissing her knuckle. "Just stay safe." Nodding there as he glanced past her to the deadly scene she had left in the wake of her fury. "I need you to... be safe." Already his head was beginning to feel heavy, leaning back against the rock. She'd feel the flickering in their connection, weakening, he was doing his best to hold on.

But if she didn't do something, anything, things might become even worse.

 

[Matteo Guo-Yian]

Location: Shoengen, Brosi [Nearby Drop Ship]
Objective: Objective II - Seize the Means of Production!
Goals: Subterranean Ore Mines Beneath Processing Plant Delta-2
Tags: Soldane Talon | Lunaria Talon | The Lord of Hunger

She told him not to die, he pressed the same sentiment back at her.

Matteo would never be able to face Srina Talon if he came home and had to tell her her daughter was dead. That he was right there with her, but that he managed to survive. That was the only reason, of course. It had nothing to do with his heart being carved in two if he never got to hear her smile in the morning again.

"I'm fine.", she wheezed out swiftly

She said that, but he could practically feel the pain radiating out of her side. Ribs broken? Likely. It made it more difficult to breath, it could cause internal bleeding.

There was nothing fine about it.

Even as his attention was mostly on the undead, forcing them to do his bidding, he split his attention yet again. This time a quarter of it went right back towards her. She'd get no warning before suddenly a flood of strength poured itself into her. Right into that hole of pain, filling it up, forcing the pain to die down and dissipate.

It came with a cost.

He was swaying on his legs and one of the undead broke loose from his control, even as the others swarmed the droids. It took a swipe at Matteo, filthy sharp nails clawing through armor-weave and leaving a rended gash across his arm before Matteo could kick it away from him. It was bleeding, he could feel the filth and corruption force itself into his veins.

"I'm fine.", he growled out roughly, in an echo of her attempt, to make sure she didn't worry.

But Matteo didn't relent in his splitting of attention and kept feeding her his strength- Luna had to survive, it was the most important objective of the mission.

 

[Garza]

OBJECTIVE II: Seize the Means of Production
EQUIPMENT: | Drop Pod | Siege Cannon |
FORCES: | Terentatek | Leviathan | Chrysalide | Wyrm | War Worm | Dreambeast | Devourer | Silooth | Tuk'ata | Veergundark | Stormbeast | Xorvyrnog |
TAGS: | Srina Talon | Selrik Lorcas | Darth Morta | Saltare Dothon | Varin Mortifer | The Lord of Hunger | Helix | Sophia of House Marr | Koda Fett | Sieliel Dimegor | Velcarin | Lunaria Talon | Soldane Talon | Matteo Guo-Yian | Ronhar Tane | Onrai | @Open

Explosions from inside the Shield generator and the sound of systems powering down, Xorvyrnog growled as his selves that were at the Shield generator proper were completely fuming with the fact that these ants were able to bypass his flames. He waited no longer. Knowing they would move down to the bottom of the fortification. If they were down then there was nothing he could do about that. Instead focusing on ending the threat that was held within. Xorvyrnog roared deeply before shoving a Knife-hand Shape into the base of the wall. Piercing through it. Yanking whatever he had grabbed within and throwing it out into the open air. Before setting his maw into the hole, and gathered his breath. Drawing all the air from the room before releasing a torrent of flame within. The Purple Force-borne flames would burn everything within if they couldn't find a way to protect themselves.

The other three Xorvyrnog knew that time would be short. With the shields down, a mental connection to Garza would warn his brother that he was unable to stop these creatures. A small preparation for what may happen next. As with the shields down, it allowed outside forces the ability to send aid to those who he was contending with. Their frames left the one at the Shield generator and began to once more race across the battlefield. An attempt to draw themselves closer to Garza so that he would have reinforcements coming to his side just as the Confederacy soldiers would. Their frames leaping and bounding over the field. Smashing down individual soldiers and crumpling armored vehicles in their wake. Trading positions of who was leading of the three. Where the first would take a moment to destroy a tank or spew flames across the field to reduce those who would fire at the next one. A game of Leap-Frog to reach Garza as fast and as safe as they could.

___________________________________________________________​

The inginuity from the little people was quite a sight to behold. Many were running away and fleeing. The sight of such would allow me to capitalize upon their fears. Absorbing their fears to power myself. Each little scream of pain, fear and despair fueled me greatly. However, the mental pictures of a Shield Generator down reached my head. Hearing the roars of my little brother reached my ears. In that moment, I could feel a force. The power greatly warped and changed. Energy that was unlike any I had felt before charging to me. A vehicle slammed into my leg. Kicking it out from underneath me.

I had stumbled. Falling down to all fours once more as the armored vehicle became upturned. They were knocking me down to prepare me for this force presence to strike. Its energy massive and aiming to destroy me. A low rumble came from my chest. Almost as if a beast like myself could form a laugh or chuckle. Maw opening up into a hideous sound of rumbling that cut itself off into a full laugh. They feared me so much, they had to draw power from the planet itself. They had to gather as many forces as they could to bring me down to bear. All of this just to get me onto my knees!

No.

My maw opened up. The energy seeking to destroy me, was taken in. All sound was stolen from the air. The air and energy vacuumed into my maw in its purest form. Absorbing its power within me. In that moment, I could feel all of its energy coursing through me. I felt like my body was on fire. Heat generating in my form trying to hold all of this power. Body beginning to glow a deep pink and purple hue. My vision blurring in this coloration as I came to my feet. Roaring once more at a sound that broke all others around me. Proclaiming that their efforts would only bolster me. The screaming of weaponry brought down upon me.

​

Rising to my full height, I brought the destructive power of the force to me. Gathering all of it into one powerful and massive destructive wave. Energy released. This Pulse of pure destructive energy released in an omni-directional wave. Even up into the air as the bombardment was coming down upon me. Not just acting as an ever expanding shield that would destroy the plasma that rained down, but leaving in wake the power of the force to wipe any any and all around me. Those who could survive would find little recourse to hide behind their shields. I was done, and tired of these fickle things.

My hand drew out across the battle field. From the pod that had landed, a massive weapon flew across the air. Flying like a lance into my hand. Bringing both to hold the weapon as large as a battle ship, I brought the weapon up to bare. Aiming at the ships that had so dared to fire upon me. Their folly would be their end. The Siege Cannon fired up into the air at the ship that attempted to thwart my attack on their forces. The Shatterbeam cannon was not just a weapon that could destroy castles and cities. But fire upon the very weapons that attempted to kill me. To send me back down to my knees. My roar echoed as the beam projected itself through the sky. Burning the very air it passed through like Lightning. Shattering the barrier of sound once more as it came to bare upon the vessel in the higher atmosphere.

 

[The Lord of Hunger]

Objective II - Seize the Means of Production!

LOCATION: BROSI
OBJECTIVE: To cause Chaos, disrupt the TSO
IMPORTANT LINKS: Sword | Armor | Jewel | Ring | Necklace | Gauntlet | DIII Gluttoneria | The guards | The Enforcer
TAG: Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Srina Talon | Gerwald Lechner​

He was getting desperate, while the Lord of Hunger was fairly certain that having his force drain amplified to the extreme by his family's most prized possession; the Vele Jivanikas Jewel, it seemed that the connection between all those he was opposing, the constant distraction and clear threat the Dread Wolf posed to him were at the same time draining his own reserves much faster than he had initially counted for. Revna Marr 's own... hunger was quite interesting though, whereas his was a hunger manifesting out of necessity and mutation, hers seemed to have a much deeper, more primal sense to it...which was at the very least worth observing should he ever have the chance to do so.

Still, the Lord of Hunger still wondered where those damn Imperials were, there was no doubt that he had managed to rile up enough disturbances within the force to draw in the attention of those who were force sensitive or who had been observant enough to notice that something simply wasn't right. Where were those minions of the empress when you needed them?

The vibrant crimson and golden eyes behind the mask suddenly jutted away from the ones performing the ritual and doing their best to stave off the danger he posed with his force drain, as from the corners of his eyes he could see how his last defense in the form of the last remaining sceleratis got smashed and tossed aside into the fissures. Clacking his tongue, he could feel how Gerwald Lechner made his title quite clear, the Dread wolf was nothing if terrifyingly dreadful. Unable to fully focus on either of his targets, Gerwald's push managed to pierce through the overwhelming force drain, sending a rippling effect through the abomination's entire defense.

As if in shock, the Lord of Hunger's force drain seemed to wane, his other hand reaching for the hilt of his Genesis blade still stuck in the ground, his eyes trembling in both rage and anguish. despite his intentions, the Lord of Hunger made an instinctual mistake, defending himself with his gauntlet rather than the blade he just pulled free, feeling how the Draed Wolf's hammer smashed unto the palm of his hand, shattering several of the crystals laid into the gauntlet and having the force of the shock traverse through his entire arm as the palm of his hand collided with the hammer, cracks appeared in the plates around his arms and the side of his cuirass, with the worst of them spurting out a black, foul liquid which strangely seemed to live a life of its own, seeping or more correctly slipping into the cracks of the ground.

Overcome by rage, the Lord of Hunger's focus turned fully towards Gerwald now, the monstrous man drove his sword forward while his opponent pushed forwards as well, hoping to use the momentum of both to pierce through the Drezad Wolf's gut with the Genesis blade. "My blood has been spilled, my legacy will now be part of this ritual wether you like it or not."

With a chuckle, the cracks in the armor of the abomination continued to grow, spiderwebbing to the side of his mask, until it shattered and revealed not the man any were used to see or had seen in the past. Nothing of the nobility or the grandeur the Lord of Hunger had once displayed had remained. In their stead, there was now the result of the Atrisian campaign of the former Confederacy of Independant Systems, a face where flesh was nary an afterthought, where fang and bone were equally visible, where decay and mummification ran hand in hand, a visage which would even suit a Sepulchar. yet, this decaying face also held a reality within it which would most likely give any who saw it pause to reflect on what it meant to spill this man...this monster's blood. For what it held within was one of the most virulent legacies of the ancient galactic empire, mutated into a new, more potent strain.

"Even if I lose...I still win," Behind the monster, the very space itself would be turned into a black, crackling vortex of dread and despair, before he vanished into the swirling darkness, leaving behind naught but a few shards of the crystals which had been embedded within his gauntlet and the strangely 'alive' black blood which still dripped into the crevices within the ground, still seemed to move uncontrollably towards the very vines which rose out of the ground when Darth Caedes had completed his ritual. If blood were to be the key to the ritual, this seed, this rising tree of unimaginable proportions would now hold within it an unexpected parasite, an infection in the form of the Lord of Hunger's own blood filled to the brim with the mutated Blackwing strain he carried within him...the very key to both the Thanatos virus and the Glimmering oil.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Allies: Srina Talon | Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | Madrona A’Mia
Enemies: The Lord of Hunger
Equipment: Lord Commander Armor | Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne
| Strømafbryder​

The gauntlet had cracked under Gerwald’s earlier strike, the sound ringing in his ears like fractured stone. The strange device no longer pulled at the Force with the same consistency, its reach sputtering in uneven bursts. It was not a victory, but it was an opening, and he intended to drive it wider until there was nothing left.

Then the scent reached him. At first it was only iron and salt, the unmistakable tang of blood on scorched air. Beneath it lingered something colder and older, a stench that clung to memory like a shadow. He knew it. Blackwing. The realization burned through him, sharpening focus into a single point. That blood was moving toward the circle where Darth Caedes and @RevnaMarr worked alongside Srina Talon . If it reached them, the ritual would not survive untainted.

He advanced without hesitation. Fractured stone shifted under his boots, the ground still unsettled from the earlier shockwave. Every stride was deliberate, closing the space between himself and Credius while keeping the creeping stain in sight. The hammer rested easily in his grip, its balance honed by long familiarity.

The blue crystals set into the weapon’s head glimmered faintly in the light. They were more than ornamentation. Their nature stripped telekinetic control from the grasp of any Jedi or Sith who might try to halt its swing. Once the hammer moved, nothing short of raw physical strength could check its momentum. Gerwald had used that truth to end fights before. He meant to do so again.

He stepped in and the weapon came up in a single smooth motion, the head cutting through the heated air. The arc carried weight enough to crush stone, aimed to drive through armor or bone without pause. Before the swing finished, he rolled the haft in his hands, drawing the head back low, then bringing it up again in a sharp reversal meant to break any guard that might meet it. Each motion pressed Credius away from the ritual’s edge, forcing him back from the slow reach of the Blackwing-tainted blood.

The battlefield pressed close around them. Heat from the pit breathed across his skin, carrying with it the smell of decay and the strange pressure of something vast moving in the dark below. Smoke coiled low along the broken ground, curling through the fissures where molten veins pulsed faintly. Every sound came sharpened: the grind of loose stone, the echo of distant fighting, the heavy rhythm of his own breath in the helm.

Gerwald shifted his stance and struck again, the hammer coming down in a short, brutal arc meant to drive an opponent off balance. The crystals along its head caught light and shadow in quick succession, each swing carrying the weight of his full strength. He pressed the advance, letting the weapon’s reach keep the pressure constant. The ground gave slightly beneath his boots, the fractured surface betraying small vibrations from somewhere deeper.

The smell of the blood was stronger now, thick in the air. It was close enough that the heat from the pit might draw it faster toward the circle. Gerwald did not slow. His focus split only enough to keep track of its path even as he kept Credius in front of him. The gauntlet’s diminished pull flickered at the edge of his senses, no longer steady but still present.

He shifted the hammer to his right, then swept it across in a wide attempt meant to drive his opponent into one of the deeper fissures. If he could force a misstep here, the terrain itself might do the rest. His boots ground into the stone as he stepped through the swing, each movement feeding the next without pause.

The circle was still active. The air above it shimmered faintly where Caedes and Revna worked, the weight of their combined focus holding the ritual together. The taint would destroy it if it crossed the boundary. That thought was as clear in his mind as the steady beat of his pulse. He reached through the Force for the presence he had long known, the one constant amid battle and blood.

The connection with Srina Talon was immediate, steady even through the roar and heat. He could smell the jasmine and rain.

<<Blood on the ground. Blackwing. It is moving toward the circle. It needs to be stopped before it mixes.>>

 

[Lord Rasnuhl]

Objective III: The Battlefield is in constant chaos!
Allies: Calin Rakel | Squesha | Ronhar Tane | Marlon Sularen | Sieliel Dimegor | Bella
Enemies: Darth Carnifex | Elmindra Xitaar | Rowyna Galeway |
Location: Orbit above Brosi & RDF Valar in low atmosphere engaging ground & air targets

Against the Sith ship (The Invictus) Captain Kalafax Pressed the attack. Bringing The RDF Imperator all the way to the back of the enemy vessel using the Impetum's weapon layout to lose none of the fir being unleashed. Turning the side to open the flak cannons on its rear.

The the message came through from both the surface and farther way in the fleet THE SHIELD IS DOWN!

The captain makes a snap decision opening the comms "RDF Valar break for the surface immediately! Full Speed. Pick up the wayward fighters since they took the freighter group. Give Selrik Lorcas and the ground troops every bit of firepower you can." She pauses for a moment "RDF Coiled Spirit I am upping my fighter count deployed. Increase flak fire, concentrate on perceived weak points."

Was it the best move? Absolutely. With their thick Coreplast hulls physical projectiles if they made it through the first hall would be stopped for some time before encountering a second hull.

The enemy fighters were having a hard time before the amount of fighters increased by a third. The RDF Valar leaving its half of fighters under the control of its sister ships.

The RDF Valar's engines glow increased to max as the ship continues to fire even as it speeds away towards the surface.

Deep within the RDF Imperator in the meditation room Lord Rashunl and sorcerers continued their work. Slowly increasing the resolve of the Confederations fleets as the ritual meditation spell continues.

---

Above Astroid belt formation 2 RDF Zealous

The Zabrak Captain paced the bridge as the mist below moved in living ways. A shudder went down his spine as the mist parted and a super laser fired.

Seeing the enemy so perfectly he had a thought opening a comm to his trio "Fire volleys of discord missiles, detonation distance of 150m from target on the main ship. Cluster towards the bow of the ship (the Omen). Engage vultures etc if necessary."


Then some of the mist start coming their way... along with fighter blips.... and Harrowers.

He paces some more going back to the comms "Since we are on edge vs where they have to come from.... Wait until they get close and unleash hell. Full Flak broadside, launch half of the fighters to engage. Run them out smartly."

Spoiler: Fleet Comp

6 Impetum

Name	Length	Shield & Hull
RDF Valar	883m	77% | 98%
RDF Imperator	883m	70% | 100%
RDF Coiled Spirit	883m	76% | 98%
RDF Defiant	883m	100% | 100%
RDF Zealous	883m	100% | 100%
RDF Couragous	883m	100% | 100%

Ships loaded per Impetum:
2 Squadrons Vultures | Squadron of 16
2 Squadrons HMP's | Squadron of 12
2 Squadrons TIE Pixie | squadron of 16
1 Squadron NZ TIE/Stu | squadron of 12
Vultures & HMP's have discord missiles loaded for use on the Sith Orders Ships.

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

1) Elmindra Xitaar 's ship has one Impetum still firing away as Rasnuhl's flagship moves to the back and fires away with flak
2) Xitaar's ship has 32-6 TIE Pixie's, 36 HMP's, and 64-20 vultures flying around. To the fray is another 24 TIE Pixie's
3) Group two attacks Xitaar's fleet in the astroids, doing a concentrated buzz droid deploy at the Omen. Then waiting to unleash a wall of fire at the approaching Sith fighters & ships.
4) Lord Rasnuhl continues a battle meditation Sith ritual with 8 sorcerers. Drawing more power into the spell work
5) Or haulers not aided have systems sliced by Buzz droids & Rasnuhl's Crew start remotely piloting them. Ore haulers jump to hyperspace.
6) RDF Valar goes close to Brosi's surface with 1 Squadron of NZ TIE/Stu 2 Squadrons TIE Pixie's 1 Squadron of HMP's and 1 squadron of Vultures beginning to support ground troops.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Objective I - Storm the Tower!
The Brosian Ore Conglomerate Mega-Tower
Interacting directly with: Kasir Dorran
Eventually: PT-45 "COWL"
Outfit: x Saber: x

​

One heartbeat, Soah was crouched in the rubble, claws flexing against cracked duracrete. The next, her claws had hooked into the plates of his back armor, weight dragging him as her claws jabbed and tore in quick succession.

Beneath her fingertips, the faint vibration of the device thrummed like the pulse of trapped prey. The bitter tang of its power cells stung her nose. Something cracked under her strike, not the core, but enough to make the air reek of scorched metal. The power to his device was now limted. His advantage was bleeding out.

"A pointless endeavor," he said to the girl. "You're wasting what little time you have left."

Under her helm, Soah's ears pinned flat, a silent snarl baring her teeth.

But that was when the earth groaned, then burst open as Brosi gave birth to new life.

A crack. A shudder. A low, wet sound like something splitting. Suddenly, the ground heaved under them. Shoots tore free of the dirt in pale, alien, writhing limbs, shooting upward like they were sniffing for prey. Roots erupted through the street, splitting duracrete with bone-snapping force. They slithered over walls, through windows. Metal screamed remnants of holopoles were twisted and crushed. Off in the distance, the sounds of sirens blared.

Too many. Too loud. Her senses were overwhelming her in the chaos, causing her to remain latched on when the Imperial surged back. She barely managed to snap her head around and unlatch herself, using the momentum to sling herself off to the side. But the overstimulation of her senses caused her to slam into stone, shoulder first, pain sparking sharp through bone, but the bounce back onto the floor allowed her to at least land on all fours.

Back arching as powerful muscles and haunches flexed, Soah gave a loud ferocious roar even as the sudden slap of new scents hit her. Wet soil. Sap so sweet it curdled in her nose. Fungi bloomed in colors around her too bright to belong here. Remnants of the zombie horde were swallowed up by choking vines and thickening limbs. They climbed higher and higher, hungry saplings latching onto running imperials and infected. Some lifted whole into the air, held in wooden claws like prey ready to be devoured before being fed into the large trumpet-like mouths of enormous pitcher plants.

Soah had to jump and dart away, pouncing and leaping in between the shoots moving and jutting from the ground. Shoots that were also snapping up under the Imperial in an attempt to latch upon him and set him in place like the curling arms of a poisonous carnivorous plant, sticky sap coated tentacles moving to cling and curl and lock the Imperial's legs in place.

Beyond him, the air stank of blood and something far more dangerous: the winged beast Kasir had become as the great beast shot forward in his attempt to strike at PT-45 "COWL" a deadly blow.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN MITCDARR COORIDG
MIN PUFF THE MAGIC KRAYT DRAGON
OBJECTIVE II: SEIZE THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION

"Status report! Anything on sensors?", Cooridg asked as Puff the Magic Krayt Dragon geared up for its next attack run.

"Negative sir, looks like our boys are keeping the enemy fighters busy", came the reply of Cooridg's sensor array officer.

"Sure, but for how much longer?", Coordig responded dryly as he inputed the last remaining coordinates for his attack. "Alright, let's make this one count. Bombardiers, are you ready?"

"Yes sir!", both bombardiers cried out in unison.

"Good. Let's blow this place to hell."

Cooridg's ship, along with the other TIE Bombers and Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators, began unleashing wave after wave of proton bombs onto the surface of the planet, vaporizing anything unfortunate enough to be standing beneath them. Even high above the battlefield, Cooridg could still feel the reverberations of the bombs hitting their marks, as the ground shook beneath them. Cooridg couldn't even begin to imagine what the carnage down below him must have looked like, nor did he really want to find out. At this point, all Cooridg wanted to do was blow through his remaining ammunition so he could get himself and his ship the hell of this blasted planet!

"Good hits, sir!", called out one the bombardiers as the last of the proton bombs fell from the gunship. "That'll be sure to do some serious damage!"

"Right", Cooridg replied, none too amused. "I need a status check on our remaining ordinance. After all that, I doubt-"

"Wait sir, I'm getting new readings!", Cooridg's sensor array officer said as he cut off the Captain. "Two dozen enemy fighters, coming straight from above!"

Cooridg cursed as the new enemy combatants entered the fray, firing upon the gunships and bombers. Bereft of their reinforcements, they would not last long under such a hail of laser and missile fire.

"I'm getting us the hell out of here!", Cooridg cried as he punched full power to engines. Puff the Magic Krayt Dragon took off as streaks of laser fire slammed into the rear of the gunship.

"Blast! We're taking hits, sir!", Cooridg's copilot called out.

"I can see that, thank you!", Cooridg responded sarcastically as he attempted to outmaneuver the marauding enemy fighters. Unfortunately, his gunship was a slow and cumbersome beast, and Cooridg could see his shield steadily draining as his ship endured hit after hit.

"We're out of shields, sir! We're taking hull damage!", the copilot noted as Puff the Magic Krayt Dragon began to shake from incoming hits. Two TIE Bombers and a Gunship had already gone down in flames, and Cooridg was about to join them at this rate. Worse still, the friendly fighters were taking heavy casualties as they attempted to keep their distance from the enemy forces. They were quick little buggers, dodging and weaving in and out of Mahporeemenian fighter screen with ease. Though the Gnetocarro-class Starfighters could keep up relatively easily, the Y-Fender "Uglies" could not, with an additional four of them already destroyed along with a single Gnetocarro. The enemy fighters had only emboldened to attack with the arrival of fresh reinforcements, and those that had taken a defensive formation earlier had now switched back to offense.

Things were looking quite bleak.

"Screw it! If we're gonna die, we might as well take as many of them as we can with us! I want full power to weapons!", Cooridg hissed. The various weapon emplacements on Puff the Magic Krayt Dragon roared to life, spitting slug and blaster fire in all directions.

If they were gonna get out of this, they would need a miracle. Of course, that miracle came in the name of Calin Rakel .

As if on cue, a squadron of TIE/DAs and a Loki-class Corvette broke through the atmosphere, firing on the enemy reinforcements. The much needed distraction allowed Cooridg to flee, using the large bulk of the Loki corvette as cover. At least for today, he and his squad would live to fight another day. As Cooridg found himself shielded by the bulk of the corvette, he noticed a massive blast of energy streaking upwards toward space. He sure as hell wouldn't want to be the target of whatever that was!

TAGS:
Haro Aven
Naamino Zuukamano
Calin Rakel
Garza (indirectly)
​

---

---

---

Spoiler: Summary

1. Cooridg attempts to have his comms officer alter the messages that he received from Moff Selrik Lorcas.​
2. Cooridg strafes the battlefield with his ship's mass driver cannons until they expend all their ammunition.​
3. One of the Sith creatures leaps into the air and destroys a TIE Bomber. Cooridg brings his ship to max altitude.​
4. Missile lock! Coordig deploys chaff and intercepts the missile, though two other gunships are hit.​
5. Cooridg boosts power to rear deflector shields and activates his ship's rear blaster cannon.​
6. Y-Fender Uglies and Gnetocarro-class Starfighters move in to defend the gunships and bombers. The Y-Fenders plow straight ahead as the Gnetorcarros attempt to hit the enemy squad from the flanks.​
7. Cooridg gets an important message: the shield generator is down! He boosts the message to the orbiting fleet above.​
8. Cooridg and his gunships complete another bombing run against enemy ground forces.​
9. Uh oh! Enemy reinforcements detected! The reinforcements destroy a number of Mahporeem starfighters and support craft.​
10. Cooridg attempts to flee but is unable to do so. His gunship takes heavy damage in the process.​
11. Screw it! Cooridg boosts full power to weapons, thinking he’s about to die, but is saved by reinforcements from Calin Rakel.​

Spoiler: Casualties

3 TIE Bombers destroyed
2 Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators destroyed
2 Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilators damaged but still flying
6 Y-Fender Uglies destroyed
3 Gnetocarro-class Starfighters destroyed
TBD

​

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

​

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."
___________​

Something broke. Cracked. The distant hum of shield generators disappeared while explosions sounded in the distance. There was a roar that felt like it was piercing her ear canal, but it was muffled just enough by her helmet. The light she saw shooting high into the sky...She didn't know what it was coming from. She didn't know whether it was a Sith ( Garza ) weapon or an Imperial one. But...

She also didn't care.

The remaining Imperial forces in the area were either dead…Or they wisely kept their distance.

Sophia's jaw tightened as soon as Horus' fingers slipped away from her helmeted face, his praise hitting her like a gut punch that she didn't have time to feel. Why was he saying these things at a time like this? Why was he wasting breath on her? "Horus…", she choked out his name, feeling a cry build wildly in the back of her throat. He was pulling away from her. Shutting her out… "Stop it. I can take it…I don't need you to protect me…It doesn't matter how much it hurts. Don't do this."

He had always seemed…So strong.

It had never occurred to her that she could lose him. (And certainly, not from something so stupid.)

Her eyes stayed locked on his features just long enough to register the pallor, the blood, the way the Force refused to answer to either of them. Then she turned…Swift, full of purpose. They couldn't stay here because no matter how well she could fight, regardless of her training and clearly superior intellect, they were essentially sitting ducks. She pulled on a piece of sheet metal, and the red mist she controlled caused it to flip until it was horizontal. "Here…Rest here.", she intoned, guiding the man onto a makeshift stretcher. From there…

The Sith Witch looked around for one of the outer buildings that might provide temporary cover. There was one that wasn't far and seemed relatively intact. Brosi was a minefield of problems, from enemies to a literal plague…Was anywhere safe? Was anywhere sterile enough? Sophia was breathing so hard that she felt a little dizzy…But she couldn't lose her head, not now.

"You're an absolute menace and I hate you.", the petulant words were coupled with urgent movements that brought them into the dank building, overgrown with vines, rot, and rust. The metal sheet moved along with her, and eventually she locked them inside…Using debris as a temporary barricade. The crimson mist rose and began to form little glowing lights. Just enough for her to see by. Barely. "I love you hate you so much…"

But she felt so much more... It was so overwhelming that she placed his life before victory. As a Knight of the Sith Order, she should have been willing to sacrifice his life if it meant victory. She should have been willing to give up anything, everything—But Sophia would never let him go. Not ever.

Looking at his body…She slowly removed his helmet. Then her own.

If he was infected?

Nothing mattered anyway.

Sophia leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead that lingered as long as she dared. He would feel her breath shaking behind her bravado, her hands clammy, but beyond that, through their flickering bond, he would note something new. Despair. It was growing with every second, regardless of how she kept taking care of him. Removing his armor so she could see better. "How can I be safe when you're not? How can you ask that of me?"

Her words were full of something she had no name for. Instead, she brought her red lights closer and began to examine the wound in his chest. "This will hurt. I'm…I'm sorry."

She took off her gloves and reached for the small medi-packs that were hidden in their armor. It wasn't much to work with. But, her knowledge was bare. So…Sophia prepared to do the only thing she knew of that might help. Which…Was to remove the bits of void-stone by hand. "I'm sorry.", she murmured as her fingers began to explore the bloody space in his armor, looking for fragments. The wound was ragged and fresh…But not too deep. At least, it didn't feel that deep?

The shards were embedded like glass in the meat of him. When she found one, her free hand braced down on his chest to keep him there. A twist, a tug, and it came free with a wet sound and hit the ground with a dull clink. Her mist sped away from it as quickly as possible. "Hold still…", the words were met with another piece being removed. One by one, she hunted each piece down, able to feel them because of the absence they created. Some bits were lodged deep, forcing her to dig down with slow, controlled pressure until they loosened.

Every time she found a new shard, her jaw tightened, nauseous from their proximity settling in, but her progress was steady. When the last fragment came free, larger than the rest, she took it and kicked the others to the other side of the building. Keeping them as far away as she could. She removed a bacta spray from the medi-pack but looked at it rather blankly…She had no idea how to use it.

Guessing—She removed the cap and sprayed it over the affected area before taking a bandage roll to lay it over the space and tape it down. The makeshift cot moved down to rest just a few inches off the floor while she dropped down onto her backside, knees up. Biting her lip. There were no reinforcements to be had in the middle of an inter-planetary war. It was just…Them—In this horrible place.

Her bloodied hand moved to rest over the bandaged area, though there was no pressure. Just a soft red light coming from her palm while her eyes buried themselves in the crook of her arm. Sophia wasn't an adept medic; she wasn't even a chitty medic, but she could filter her energy into him. Enough that he…He might stabilize? Other than that…

She drew her wrist up to her lips and activated her commlink.

"This is Sophia Marr of the Order…Extraction requested. One wounded."

A breath.

"Critically wounded. Coordinates transmitted."

Horus would have been proud of her for keeping her voice steady, but…It didn't last once she cut the feed. It would either bring the Sith Order or it would be intercepted by the enemy in the worst possible scenario. For Sophia…The gambit was worth it. Her eyes burned, and she kept them tucked away in her arm while a hate-filled heart began to break and shatter. She hated these wars.

She hated the Imperials. She hated…Everything, everything, but him.

The littlest Marr wanted to rage and scream, wail, but…

She wouldn't let Horus see her cry.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

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

________________​

Naedira's head lifted sharply when sound rolled through the tunnel. It was low at first. Then…It shuddered through metal and stone until the walls themselves seemed to tremble.​

​

It wasn't artillery. ​

​

There was a deep electric groan and a flickering of light through the cracks of dilapidated walls. This, coupled with multiple explosions, told her exactly what it was. Her wolf hearing was superior enough that she could deduce that the shield generators the Sith Order had planted were failing…Either through destruction or sheer overuse. All around them, she could feel the vacuum where the hum had been…Which was now replaced with something far more dangerous.​

​

Raw, unrestrained power.​

​

Someone had done enough damage to crack through their defensive network, and with the shields going or gone…Shoengen was now naked under the guns of whatever fleets the Imperials had in orbit. Her gaze shifted to her son, her voice low and secure despite the threat level having been raised. There was an unspoken emotion in her chest that caused her stomach to churn…But it would have to wait.​

​

"Extraction is now non-negotiable. If they decide to glass this district, we won't have time to run from here to the edges of the city." ​

​

Aerik had voiced a good plan…But they were out of time. Gerwald Lechner was far enough from Shoengen that he should have been safe but…She couldn't help but reach for him. He was busy. She knew he was; the Empress always made sure of that, but he was probably fighting for his life without any way to escape or protect himself. Much to her chagrin…He would never leave his pale queen behind…No matter what. And for all her strength? Her ability?​

​

How could anyone defend against being nuked by capital ships?​

​

She didn't stop moving down the hall, crouching beside the next panel, before working it open with practiced precision. Her tone sharpened slightly—Not with anger, but urgency. "We finish this and let it spread on its own. Every minute we spend here…" ​

​

The slicer tool leapt from Aerik and landed in her waiting hand. Swiftly, she began tampering.​

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"…It's courting death." ​

​

Another distant surge rattled the floor of the Tower, and an unmistakable signature of an immense power release suddenly made it hard to breathe. It was like she was standing in some kind of forge without any protection. Too hot, too much pressure, and way too close by. Whomever was fighting out there ( Garza ) was doing so without restraint. Without hesitation.​

​

Naedira did not have that luxury. Not while Aerik was with her…She would not sacrifice him for Brosi.​

​

Period. ​

​

She glanced down the hallway and tried her best to remember the floor plans, but…Was that necessary? Any open door or window would do the trick. She also wasn't against making her own exit. "Be ready. The second this is done…We move. Stay with me, never lose sight of me, and don't get distracted." ​

​

She didn't need to say what they both knew. Time was measured in heartbeats now, and each one was a risk where the sky could open and rain down hellfire. The data was only so worthwhile…It was said that Imperials were logical, practical, but wouldn't the logical thing be to stop the Sith in their tracks? Wouldn't it be the logical act for the Sith? To stop the Imperials in their tracks?​

​

To remove the field of battle?​

​

Naedira reached out and placed her hand on Aerik's arm…Waiting for the slicing to finish. Waiting for the numbers to finish counting down, until they reached zero, letting him know she was there.​

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She would always be with him.​

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"I'm proud of you, my son." ​

 

[Revna Marr]

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Allies: Srina Talon // Darth Caedes // Gerwald Lechner // Madrona A’Mia
Nearby: The Lord of Hunger


​

Energy poured in from all directions into Revna - pumped through predatory veins that seemed attached to her as the seeking needles of her ravenous Hunger sought out nourishment. With that energy, came renewed strength and power - more power than what she was accustomed to feeling, though she welcomed it with an eager embrace. And yet she still wanted more - craved it. With her Sight, nothing escaped her view; she saw the battle above and below, the minions of the Sith and the forces of the Imperials clashing in unyielding violence. Such raw emotions poured like flood waters into the poisoned atmosphere, creating a greater cocktail of utter annihilation and destruction for the crippled and doomed planet. Revna's Hunger only added to the tumultuous mixture as the terror of the dying, the last vestiges of their lives before she siphoned it away, leaked into Force. It was such potent, raw, dark power...fuel for those who could call upon it.

But deep within the recesses of her mind, Revna began to feel a sense of unease trickle through her, a tug of warning, of caution. Something was amiss, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. She continued to press into the Hunger, ignorant to its schemes as it slowly corrupted her psyche, the very essence of who she was. A heartbeat later, she felt a presence with her, one that was not the Void - but something or rather someone that was more familiar.

A voice slipped into her ear, but it was distant - like a faint whisper. ...Revna...love…I’m here...

The familiar presence there with her became more insistent as it pressed into her mind, her consciousness, and for a brief moment her Sight through the Void flickered and swam, as if she was being pulled or called away from it. She…no, the Void…resisted the call, tried to push the familiar presence out of her mind - but Revna felt that she needed to heed it…and once more she fought to pull herself out of the Hunger’s grasp. Only then did she truly realize just how far she had allowed it to sink its talons into her. She thought she had been maintaining control over it - but it became clear that what she thought was her Will had slowly been corrupted to mirror the Void’s will.

The very thing she had been terrified of - losing herself in the Hunger - was now well under way.

The only thing that saved her then, was a pulse of cleansing light - its hues in a familiar shade of light red - a pulse of power that was not her own, and with it came clarity. Her connection to the Void was severed, and her Sight was plunged into darkness…before it was replaced by a familiar face:

Caedes.

The inky blackness faded from her eyes…and what Darth Caedes would see instead was not the fiery hue of the Dark's corruption, but stormy gray-blue…the eyes of Revna before she had given herself to the Dark Side. She blinked at him, memory and clarity returning with each passing moment, before she cast her gaze around to see the garden and the fountain. She recognized this place - it was her inner sanctuary - the place she came to find solace, courage, to face the trials of reality. The space she came whenever she meditated. She had revealed this hidden place to Caedes when they first danced, when their minds and souls truly connected. He had found her here, it seemed - and used their Bond to call her back from oblivion.

“Hey - “ Caedes said to her, a smile upon his face. “We need you out there. I need you.”

Revna blinked in confused silence, before it dawned on her what he was talking about.

The ritual! Brosi…the war…the fight to keep their sacred Holy Worlds.

Shame flickered in her blue eyes for a moment; -I…I’m sorry!- she echoed to him through their tether; how could she have let the Void take such control over her? How could she have allowed herself to be so deceived and manipulated by it? Had her King not stepped in and called her back when he had…

Revna shuddered to even imagine what could have happened.

But it hadn’t.

She was reminded then of when he had saved her the first time from the clutches of the Void - that dreadful moment when she thought her world would collapse out from under her, the day her Master, her Father, died in His Kaggath. And just like he was there back then, Caedes was there now to save her from herself.

“Take my hand, Lady Revna.” the King said, his voice rolling through her like distant thunder. She reached for his hand without hesitation, feeling it in both the physical and mental planes - and it further grounded her to reality. Courage and determination filled her as she further pulled herself together, allowing the moment to strengthen her Will, strengthen her resolve and conviction. The Hunger was not her master; it would not claim her. Not here, not now...not ever. And now she was aware of its cunning and insidious nature. Whatever the Void had tried to do to her... had failed.

-Thank you…- she echoed to him, the genuine emotion of her gratitude passing through to him.

“It begins.”
“It begins.”

Caedes' voice within Revna’s mind was echoed with the wintry and ethereal voice of Srina, the Empress - and Revna drew herself from her own mind, returning to the present to find herself within her King’s arms as the war waged all around them. Power and Hunger still surged around and within her, and she could feel the eyes of the Void on the fringes of her awareness - jealous and angered - but cowed into submission…for the moment. Revna’s Force presence swelled with renewed strength and power, beyond what she normally felt and revealed to others. What essence she had fed upon had empowered her and she bled that energy through the Force.

The risk she had taken to gain the necessary power to further fuel the Ritual had paid off, but it had nearly cost her everything. But there was no time to ponder on that realization; she could think about all that later - when the battle was over.

Revna observed as Caedes summoned the ritual dagger from Srina into his grasp, and without hesitation he drew the blade across his palm, drawing forth a line of thickened, dark blood to carry out his part of ritual. Without fanfare, he passed the blade to her as he made his offering to the glowing Sith runes - his life essence dripping down to be consumed and to activate the next portion of the ritual. With it, he further empowered the Seed, giving it the gift of his resilience.

All around them, the ground erupted as the Seed blossomed forth, and despite the death that choked Brosi - life impossibly bloomed. Revna watched in awe as Psilofer spread further and beyond the ritual point, empowered by both Srina’s and Caedes’ offerings and gifts…but it was missing the final piece. Revna’s piece - her part in the ritual.

She didn’t hesitate; they couldn’t afford any further delay in this ritual, and she would be damned if it failed because of her. As Gerwald and their foe clashed once more, Revna brought the blade against her palm and made a quick slice, her face twitching slightly from the sharp pain of the wound as blood immediately welled up from the cut and began to drip freely from her hand. She then dropped down and placed her bloody hand directly against the glowing runes - allowing the blood to touch it directly.

“...and to you, I gift hunger. Feed, Psilofer, so that you may gain energy to give back and renew this world.” she whispered in a tone that held an edge of maternal tenderness. She then closed her eyes and tapped into the immense well of power that poured from her, and directed it into the runes themselves - feeding power directly into the ritual, more and more. It mirrored the sacrificial energy that a mother had to give to their offspring to see them grow and mature.

It had been the reason why she had listened to the voice of the Dread Mother, why she had fed upon the dying of Brosi in the first place, why she had surrendered to the call of the Void, and nearly lost herself to the Hunger that roared within her soul.

So she could in turn give that power and essence to the Seed, to Psilofer.

But even with the shedding of some of this excess power, she was still pulsing and brimming with power - it was almost more than what she could handle. She stretched her mind to the other three with her: to Srina, to Caedes, to Gerwald, and even to the Lord Seer of Korriban - A’Mia: -Take whatever power or energy you need from me and use it how you see fit…I have more than enough for us…-

It wasn’t an inexhaustible resource, however - that much Revna knew. If the others did take the energy and power she offered to them, she would have to Feed again to replenish what had been taken. A risk, another sacrifice of herself, that she would make if necessary.

But for now she remained intent and focused on the ritual and those around her - ready to aid wherever else she may be needed.

 

[Brent Warnel]

TAGS: Darth Virelia Braith Achlys

Brent's gauntleted hands snapped shut with a metallic clang as Braith's lightsaber met his Bes'briik. The beskar chain coiled around her weapon like a serpent, binding blade and arm together, locking her in place. For a heartbeat, he had her one blade neutralized, one less path to death.

That heartbeat ended.

Braith's saber winked out with a hiss, her arm wrenching back. The chain resisted, catching against her wrist, but her strength was unrelenting. Brent's arm was ripped forward, his guard torn wide open.

No matter. He released the chain, pulling his arm back to-

CRUNCH

The sound came with a rush of wet, hot air that wasn't from the fire, wasn't from the fight, it was from his own lungs. His boots faltered. His HUD blared warnings in shrill, insistent bursts.

She was there. Darth Virelia.

Her clawed hand was buried deep beneath the plates of his chest armor, talons curling into his heart. Not brushing it. Not threatening it. Claiming it. The gap Braith had created was all she'd needed: soft armor-weave under the arm, an open line to his most vital place.

The lightning followed. White-hot, blinding. It tore through him, a river of agony, his chest seizing in violent spasms. His vision flared and darkened in the same instant.

He locked eyes with her, her cold stare gazing back against the searing hatred in his own. With the last of his will, Brent seized her by her armor, dragging her closer, forcing her talons even deeper, butting his head up against her helmet.

"I did...ask for it," he rasped, blood filling his helmet, the copper taste thick in his mouth.

His knees buckled. Virelia's hand slid from his chest with a sickening pull, his life spilling after it. His HUD was a storm of red and yellow, pumping the last reserves of bacta and stims into his veins. Futile.

Somehow, he forced himself to crawl back until the solid wall met the backplate of his armor. He needed to see them both. Two warriors. Two foes who had given him what every Mandalorian dreamed of: a death worthy of the songs.

He would not beg. He would not plead. This was the way.

The world tilted. The Manda whispered. His name echoed there, Brent Warnel, of Clan Warnel. Alor. Kelhav. Neo-Crusader. A veteran of more battles than memory could hold.

"Cin Vhetin..." his voice was barely more than breath as he spoke his final words. A fresh field. A clean slate.

Then he was gone.

​