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

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
MIN COLLATERAL STAR
OBJECTIVE III: THE BATTLEFIELD IS CONSTANT CHAOS

"Cease fire, cease fire!"

The ion cannon fire coming from the Collateral Star abruptly stopped, as Zonill continued to survey the battlefield. Despite the intense barrage, his fleet still had yet to make contact with the enemy.

"Anything, Sellferr?", Admiral Zonill asked the Captain.

"Negative, sir. Scanners are coming up empty. Its quite possible the enemy fleet fled in the face of our superior force", Sellferr noted as he continued to look over the various readouts at his station.

"I see", Zonill replied. That would certainly make the most sense as to why Zonill's fleet had failed to make contact with the enemy. Still, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Why go through the trouble of setting up such an elaborate ambush if only to leave without firing a shot? Something else must have been at play, and Zonill was going to find out what exactly was going on.

"Very well. If that's the case, let's reorient our positions toward the asteroid field. We can provide fire support to-"

Zonill's sentence was cut off as the Collateral Star began violently rocking from side to side. A massive beam of light had erupted from the surface of the planet, impacting the Collateral Star as it cut through both energy shields and metal with ease.

"Status report!", Zonill called out as he straightened up, the blast nearly knocking him down to the floor.

"We've been hit, sir!", Sellferr responded as alarms once again blared throughout the bridge. Reports are coming in from the surface! The massive lizard creature has fired upon us with some kind of unknown weapon! Starpoint B has been heavily damaged! Early estimates indicate a third of the superstructure has been sheared cleanly off!"

As Zonill looked at his holoscreen, he saw bits of metal floating away from his flagship. One of the Venators that made up the "starpoints" of his vessel had been impacted by the energy beam, a large section of it cleanly sliced off by the monster's massive weapon.

"Blast! Captain, I need you to listen to me carefully. I want EVERY gun we have to fire on that creature!", Zonill demanded.

"Every gun, sir?", Sellferr asked in astonishment.

"Every gun", Zonill replied gravely.

"Understood, sir. At our current angle of attack, we can bring 246 turbolasers, 104 heavy laser cannons and 13 concussion missile launchers down upon the beast", Sellferr noted as he crunched the numbers on his console.

"That'll have to do for now. Give the order".

"Absolutely, sir. All batteries, this is Captain Sellferr. Prepare-"

Suddenly, the Captain stopped talking as he look down at his holoscreen, his jaw agape in amazement.

"What's wrong, Captain?" Zonill asked him, concern tinging his voice.

Sellferr didn't respond. He simply shared his viewscreen with the Admiral.

"What in the name of the galaxy is that?"

It was the largest storm Zonill had every seen in his life. It must have stretched thousands of kilometers, and it only appeared to be getting larger and larger with each passing minute. Such a storm would obliterate Zonill's fleet should any of his ships get caught in it. And, it was currently heading right toward them. So that was why the Sith fleet hadn't engaged them. They were running for their lives.

"Sir...I'm...I'm getting a message from Admiral Squesha ", Sellferr stammered. "She's falling back. It looks like the order to retreat has been given."

Zonill cursed at the news. It was time to go, it would seem.

"Understood. The moment the last of our starfighters and support craft make it back on board, we jump."

After a few minutes, all of Zonill's forces had made it back to the ships. Zonill took one last look at the storm, which was now engulfing much of the battlefield. Frustrated and upset, he gave the order to retreat.

"All ships, jump on my mark. Ready...mark!"

Zonill's fleet successfully made the jump to hyperspace, leaving a maelstrom of total death and destruction behind. He would have to settle the score with the lizard creature another day...

TAGS:
Darth Malum of House Marr
Garza
Squesha
Lord Rasnuhl
Calin Rakel
Marlon Sularen
Rowyna Galeway
Darth Carnifex
​

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Spoiler: Fleet Composition

• MIN Collateral Star -4,760m
  • 10 STX-TIE Squadrons (16 per squad)
  • 10 Z’Ceptor Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 5 AX-Wing Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 5 Y-Fender “Ugly” Starfighter Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 5 Gnettocaro-class Starfighter Squadrons (8 per squad)
  • 5 TIE Bomber Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 5 Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilator Squadrons (4 per squad)
  • 5 NCE-131/c Heavy Dropship “Stork” Squadrons (4 per squad)
• Vilifier-class Star Destroyer x2 - 2,274m
  • 3 STX-TIE Squadrons (16 per squad)
  • 3 Z’Ceptor Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 3 Y-Fender “Ugly” Starfighter Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 3 Gnettocaro-class Starfighter Squadrons (8 per squad)
  • 2 TIE Bomber Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 2 Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilator Squadrons (4 per squad)
• Nebulon Fire-class Light Carrier - 388m
  • 2 Y-Fender “Ugly” Starfighter Squadrons (12 per squad)
  • 1 AX-Wing Squadron (12 per squad)
  • 1 NCE-131/c Heavy Dropship “Stork” Squadron (4 per squad)
• CR125 Corvette x3 - 675m
  • 1 Gnettocaro-class Starfighter Squadron (8 per squad)
  • 1 Y-Fender “Ugly” Starfighter Squadron (8 per squad)
  • 1 AX-Wing Squadron (8 per squad)

Spoiler: Fleet Summary

1. Admiral Vorin Zonill's Fleet comes out of hyperspace near Brosi. Admiral Zonill begins sending support craft to the surface of Brosi to assist Imperial forces. Some ships successfully land on the planet, untill a planetary shield activates, preventing the admiral from sending any additional ships planet side.
2. Admiral Zonill orders a sensor scan of the surrounding area, looking for Sith ships.
3. Admiral Zonill launches three squadrons of STX-TIEs toward the nearby asteroid field, hunting for signs of the Sith Fleet.
4. Contact! The Sith Fleet is located inside the asteroid field. The three squadrons of STX-TIEs in the asteroid field move in to engage.
5. Admiral Zonill is contacted by Admiral Squesha. Admiral Squesha proposes that Zonill's Fleet makes a short hyperspace jump away. Admiral Squesha will then use her Interdictor cruiser to pull Admiral Zonill's Fleet outside of hyperspace, right behind the asteroid field.
6. Admiral Zonill agrees to do so, and makes the jump to hyperspace.
7. Success! Admiral Zonill has successfully come out of hyperspace outside the asteroid field.
8. But wait! Captail Sellferr detects a number of unusual readings, though he cannot determine their exact number or what they are.
9. Admiral Zonill orders the Collateral Star to launch all starfighters and support craft. He also orders the Collateral Stars ion batteries to open fire, though they are firing essentially blindly.
10. Zonill also orders the rest of his fleet to take defensive positions around the Collateral Star, and for the reconnaissance flight of STX-TIEs to take positions around Admiral Squesha 's Fleet.
11. Zonill is unable to find the enemy fleet.
12. Impact! A massive beam of energy hits the Collateral Star, doing heavy damage to one of its "starpoints".
13. Zonill orders all cannons to fire upon the lizard creature on the planet's surface, but is forced to retreat by Force Storms before he can do so.
14. Zonill jumps to hyperspace, leaving the battlefield behind.

Spoiler: Casualties

• STX-TIE Squadron 1: 12/16
• STX-TIE Squadron 2: 8/16
• STX-TIE Squadron 3: 12/16

 

[Varin Mortifer]

The power that erupted from his throat charred his throat and jaw. Not noticing the pickup ship he watched his opponent leap from the battle field and onto the ship, just before he could finish her…or himself. The amount of power that surged out of him took its toll. He coughed up blood as he felt the flesh begin to mend itself slowly.

A wheezing breath escaped his mouth as he inhaled that hot air around him. Through the flames he could see Imperial soldiers retreating. Some a bit too stubborn to leave. The wounded apprentice gripped his saber and lifted his hand violently ripping one of the retreating soldiers back to him through the flames using the force.

“Give me….sustenance….”

His voice was coarse and harsh. His throat burned in agony as he wrapped his hand around the soldiers throat. Using his saber he bisected his blaster rifle leaving him defenseless.

Ignati now gazing into the soldiers eyes he could drink his fear. The imperial flesh began to redden as he started to scream and smoke. A burst of flame erupted from the victims eyes and mouth as they let out their final scream. As he burned, Ignati drank in his fear and pain. Feeding off of it, rejuvenating some of his body. Though still badly damaged he let the scorched corpse drop to the ground.

His breathing was still harsh, his throat still burned but the scorching began to mend. Save for his wounded arm.

Varin began to regain control as Ignati was temporarily gorging himself. He lifted his good arm and announced weakly in his communicator.

“.....Varin to ghoul squad….”

He coughed up more blood as his lungs began to clear.

“....urgent pick up needed in No Man's Land….ring of fire….”

A few moments passed and the noises of battle began to fade to him as he stared in the flames, a shape began to form. A humanoid, small, female. The shape began to take familiarity as he could see the green eyes of his late younger sister.

He didn't know how long he stared, but a slight pull of his arm caused him to snap a gaze at his brother in arms, Naamino. His voice sounded distant, though he was right by him. Shouldering a now very wounded Varin's arm, he slowly brought him to the evac ship.

“.....Naami….it….it burns…….”

His wheezing breath began to slow to a calmer pace as he sat in one of the seats. Consciousness began its absence as his head nodded downwards to his lap, as blackness encroached the edges of his sight.

Naamino Zuukamano Velcarin

 

[Xeykard]

Finally, he thought. Someone to kill.

Hacks had their prize in hand; without hiccup or trace, they'd taken what they needed from the Ore-Duke's tower. Perhaps there was the difference he felt from most other Sith. His search for glory was functional, but here, every opportunity to fight was the whole of their being, no thought to their true goal, the actuality of victory. Did that make him lesser, or greater?

He kept his focus, leading Hacks up another few levels. Their escape would be made soon — only to be thwarted, briefly, by closed blast doors all around. A simple problem, solved by a careful application of violence, or the slicer's particular abilities-

Then the greater problem emerged as the doors slid suddenly open. The entire level had been locked down, now laid bare, the work of one of the two women now before him. One, a suited infiltrator, surrounded by that stench of the Dark. The other, a bow-wielding assassin. They mirrored one another, a confrontation raw enough it was almost a shame to interrupt.

Almost. He was there already; to leave now would be a travesty.

One he recognized — Allyson Locke. He knew what she'd been, knew what she'd become. But the other… her presence was a looming shadow, not yet tangible like the Dark Lord's, but nascent, preparing. She was Sith, without a doubt. Not a lackey; even wounded, she had that air of import, and he did not recognize her as an enemy of the Dark Lord's. Not from the Order. So…

Ah. A gamble for him. It made sense; few Imperials had spine of their own. This, surely, was what she had prepared for. He rolled the dice.

A sign behind his back, to Hacks — stick with the other one. No time for anything else, he stepped towards Locke, eyes on the Sith.

"A fortuitous moment. The already-dead did not suffice," he admitted, drawing his saber. He took Locke's side.

"Let this one deliver you-" snap-hiss, and then a crack of thunder with his swing, "from this Jedi traitor!" red blade flicking upwards in a rapid slash from hip shoulder, as he turned on Locke.

Hacks | Her | Allyson Locke​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

The despair was overwhelming.

Even Darth Nefaron was taken aback, a mental assault he had not faced in many decades.

Yet he could not help but be enraptured by the sensation of horror, for it was a unique experince.

Eurydice had at last fallen. An endless pit of Darkness awaited her.
​

For a brief moment, the Dark Lord leaned against a crumbling wall to steady himself, truly, he could not have been more pleased by the results of this little experiment, even if his Apprentice had lashed out at her Master. The pain that gripped her very soul was far greater than any physical torment the Corpse Lord might inflict, so he thought it better to let her wallow in her misery for a time. The battle was turning in the favor of the Sith as the full power of the Dark Side was loosed on the invaders. The dead would consume the Imperial interlopers, and Darth Nefaron will have ensured that this girl will forever be trapped on the path of darkness.

Nefaron went to his Apprentice, hovering over her, his own pale eyes now filled with the sickly yellow tint that came only with a true commitment to the Dark Side. They were kin now, bonded by the shared experince of human agony.

"It hurts. It hurts more than any wound, for you have sacrificed a part of yourself that you can never have back. The Dark Side demands such things of us, but in return, our power will only continue to grow."

In a flash, Nefaron unleashed his power to lift the chair and the bound corpse and throw them from the ruined residence block, yet the man's blood remained in a large pool on the floor. It mattered not if his body remained, for this death would never leave Eurydice for as long as she lived. It would haunt her for a time, but soon enough she would come to thank her Master for the experince.

"You have arrived at a fork in the road, child. You have but two choices left, and it has come time for you to commit yourself to one of them. Either you continue to resit your calling and remain forever a terrified girl enslaved to my will-"

He paused, sinking down to one knee as he leaned down to reveal his horrid visage, a terrible grin spreading across his features.

"-or you can, here and now, pledge yourself to the Order of the SIth Lords. You will suffer, you will struggle, but one day you will become something truly magnificent. Never again need you be afraid, for you will be master of it. You will be a child of terror, a Dark Lord of the Sith that is destined to take the galaxy for your own."

Though the choice was clear to Nefaron, he understood it may not be appealing to the girl in this moment of grief. So he opted to sweeten the deal by lying, by promising something he could not and would not do.

"Then you might return to your homeworld, power enough to ensure all bow in your wake. Then you can stand with your father once more."

TAGS: Eurydice ​

 

[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

I Don't Believe in Satan

For many death was the final frontier - no, not just many. Most. Nearly all, even, succumbed to its cold embrace and never returned from it. Even those who did, herself included, would find their way back into the dirt or the void of space as little more than a corpse of a memory with little to show for their time with the living. In the case of those who weren't capable of touching the force it was usually a forgone conclusion that death was as permanent as it was terrifying, after all a Jedi might join with the force and a Sith might cling to life but what hope could someone who had no such abilities have to stave off finality?

In her head she'd made a silent eulogy, something of an unspoken promise that she wasn't quite so sure Brent Warnel would be quite as happy to find she'd made once she'd followed through. His death had been climactic, in a way, but she'd never been satisfied with the way anyone died - be it on their own terms or, in the case of the Mandalorian here, unwanted and unexpected. Hundreds of souls had found themselves taken by the witch and shoved into the lattices of crystals, he would've been no different had it been a different era, but her knowledge and mastery over the thin veil that separated the living from the dead in their passing wasn't so narrow that she couldn't use it for more generous purposes, or perhaps cruel from another perspective. "It will never cease to amaze me how insecure you Sith are about being perceived as merciful." She replied, rolling her eyes at the request Darth Virelia made of her. She'd keep her peace, of course, though she wondered if it had occurred to Virelia that the manner in which the man had died was quite a bit less indicative of strength than her play at mercy was of weakness.

Still, she hadn't expected her to move to take his body - that made things a little difficult - and she was certainly unwilling to waste even an iota of what stamina she had left to fight over a corpse. It narrowed down her options, she supposed, but as she twisted her arm free of the chain that'd been wrapped around her wrist she flung it back towards him, a speck of blood from her knuckles, where she'd intentionally dragged the steel against her flesh, was thrown onto the man's body, steered through her will with the force to land into an exposed area not covered by his armor. She grimaced, shaking her hand to cover her actions with the appearance of frustration at having hurt herself after the fight was already over, but the blood trail on Brent Warnel was already made. It didn't matter where Virelia, hoisting him up, took him because she'd find him regardless of how far they went.

"It already has." She said cynically, more or less agreeing with her.

Her foresight helped her peer quite a bit into the future, far enough to gather the feeling that she'd find Amara before she'd need to fight anyone else again, but if he wasn't going to be someone for Braith to fight then she was more than happy to create an obstacle for her daughter to face in the future. He was his own man, she supposed, so there was always the chance that he'd maybe see what she had in store for him as something a bit closer to a favor than disrespect.

'I suppose I'll find out eventually.' She thought as the person her husband had spoken quite highly of left with the man she intended to bring back from the grave.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

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

The Imperial hacked desperately at the vines coiling up his legs, each one snapping with a wet, fibrous tear. He had just torn free of the last when Kasir's strike came. The blow carved across his shoulder and chest, staggering him back. He managed to twist away, but not fast enough to escape the full weight of the hit.

The ground continued to convulse.

Brosi rumbled beneath them, shuddering like a creature birthing itself anew. All around Soah, a storm of glowing spores lifted into the air, drifting like a thousand tiny jellyfish, their light painting the ruins in hues of blue and green.

The Imperial vanished into the chaos, slipping into the cover of vines and spores.

Soah landed in his place.

The giant leaf bent beneath her weight, springing her down onto all fours. Amber eyes burned behind her helm, fixed on the figure below, the warform beast that had once been her master.

The beast of him breathed in heavy, thunderous gulps, chest rising like a forge bellows beneath waves of black fur streaked with pale white, each movement alive with monstrous vitality. Where once human eyes had glinted, now fiery Corusca Gems blazed out from the twisted face of something caught between bat and corpse. Rows of fangs gleamed like wet knives, his nose reshaped into something sharp and alien.

Soah's ears flicked back. Powerful muscles rolled, coiling tight beneath her skin, her shoulders rolling back in sharp arcs of tension. Predator staring down predator. But her helm muffled the most important thing -- his scent. She couldn't hunt blind. Couldn't stand this distance without knowing.

Without considering the risks, Soah's helm hit the crimson glowing moss of the floor with a muted thud, and the air filled her lungs in a rush. Her lungs filled thick with the scent of wet moss, sour bark, and blooming things too alien to name.

All around her, spores drifted in the air like glowing jellyfish, their bioluminescent bodies catching against her braids and clinging to the inky shadows that curled across her skin. It should have unsettled her. It should have stolen her breath. Instead, her nostrils flared and she took another deep breath.

Yes. There it was. That sour, metallic tang that had threaded through her ever since his bones began to break, sharp enough to bite down into her instincts. Familiar...and not. Terrible, yes. Ugly. Beautiful in the way storms are beautiful, the kind you can't stop, only survive.

Soah bared her teeth, not in fear, but in something close to a grin.

And then she moved.

Not cautious. Not hesitant. Just forward, like she'd already decided where her claws belonged. The spores swirled in her wake, shadows writhing along her limbs in hungry resonance with the fury rippling off his monstrous frame. Her steps made no sound, each stride deliberate, inevitable.

The petite Felacatian quickly reached him. Bold. Bare. And instead of claw or strike, her hands attempted to bury themselves into the thick fur of his chest, to drag herself close until she could press her brow against the rise and fall of his heaving fur.

It was a primal, incessant instinct, the mark of a beast rubbing scent where it belonged. A challenge to any other who dared to look.

It was not a submission. It was not defiance.

It was a claim.

A feral, wordless recognition that no matter what he had become, no matter the storm of monster and shadow, she would not flinch.

Not from him.

Never from him.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

​

His strike was parried with the precision of a veteran, but the war itself would not endure much longer. Everything began shifting, the ground beneath him very much alive, pulsating with raw energy that slowly twisted the entire planet around him. Brosi writhed, spores casting ethereal blue and green hues over the ruins of Shoengen and beyond, painting an enchanting, living canvas.

Their foe had soon retreated, along with so many others, folding under the weight of destruction. And perhaps those who did were not truly spared, but chosen to spread fear back to those who still desired to grasp power not meant for them.

In his warform, Kasir should have been a perfect weapon, stripped of all sentiment, a cold, calculating machine built solely for destruction. No flicker of softness, nor a single trace of hesitation, but programmed to be relentless and efficient.

But this time, unlike others before, fragments of memory vibrated beneath his black fur. Snatches of the past year flashed, glowing stubbornly within him under the unforgiving gaze of hatred burning crimson.

Clarity slowly unraveled.

He tried to understand what caused him to shift so quickly.

To further understand the tension festering in his purpose.

His vision, blurred by battle, barely registered the rumbling earth beneath him. Glowing spores danced like spectral entities, their glow appearing on surfaces around him.

Still, they felt distant even in close proximity, irrelevant even, until a familiar scent, yanked him from the edges of oblivion.

Everything narrowed, for the anger within became slow, constant breathing. The Sith hardly recognized the beast he’d become, fueled by blind obsession, a drive to obliterate. For moments, he forgot he was more than a weapon, more than the warform that completely consumed him.

Adrenaline no longer ruled his senses. He ignored the bloom of moss beneath his claws, along with the vines.

Then came Soah's approach.

She pressed boldly against his chest, and everything that once lingered would pause by her presence alone. Her own form, beneath his ribs, sent tremors through sinew and bone alike. The Felacatian’s fingers locked into his fur, breathing more warmth against the fire that burned within his chest.

Memories flickered like flames in the darkness of his mind, sparked to life by the thought of her. From the day he first took her under his wing at the Jutrand Academy, to a journey upon Malachor V, Dromund Kaas, and all the blood tarts that filled the space in between.

Every and every layer he armored himself with began to splinter. The Sangnir tasted softness where only cold plating should have been.

He did not lash out.

Instead, he froze.

She marked him in ways no blade ever had; she carved deep, like a wound he did not wish to heal.

And Kasir accepted.

Muscles as taut as durasteel began to loosen, followed by a low rumble in his chest. Measured breaths drew the Felacatian's essence deeper into his lungs. The fiery glow in his eyes softened from an unstable flare to fractured embers. The Darkseeker’s focus shifted, almost curious like, before lowering his massive head so that his muzzle brushed against her temple in a light caress.

The soft growl that followed bridged a gap that Galactic Basic could not.

Nearby, the shattered remnants of his obsidian armor lay in ruin. And so, he knew better than to attempt to shift back into his previous form in this place, not yet; for the urgency that usually captured him, did not take hold now.

An eerie calm had settled upon him.

His wings folded protectively around the girl, a fortress of shadow, declaring that Soah was still his to guard.

If any humanity truly lingered in the assassin, then it pulsed in those beats of silence, between two combatants in a realm of savage brutality.