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

[Darth Virelia]

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

The tower pulsed with entropy.

Every light flickered in rhythm with the Blight's heartbeat, every whisper in the comms a syllable of a language older than names. Virelia stood alone near the executive chamber's upper floors, framed by the dead glass of a shattered viewport, her six violet eyes casting insectile reflections on the stone. Her fingers hovered above a dormant terminal, not to retrieve information, but to sense its weight.

Brosi had become a proving ground—yes, but not for the Sith. For the desperate. For the prideful. For the ones who thought the galaxy still responded to effort or numbers or strategy. But the Dark Side was not a battlefield to be conquered. It was a tide to be swallowed by. She had begun orchestrating that tide, pulling it forward in silence until the stars themselves would be bent beneath it.

She hadn't heard from Her in a long time. And now this—an invasion. Not a decapitation strike. Not a surgical op. A full spectacle. Virelia didn't believe in coincidence. She wanted this, wanted Brosi to burn, wanted the data tower breached and bled dry—but not for the Confederation. No, this was something older. Personal. Perhaps a message. Perhaps a test. Either way, it would be prudent to meet again. Soon. Before the next fire started without her knowing who held the match...

Kaboom.

The explosion echoed upward like a question she had already answered. One of the sealed balconies below had blown inward. Dust peeled across the corridor like dead breath, and through it came the hiss of armor and movement—grit and calculation.

Interesting.

She simply stepped aside from the terminal and faced the direction of the breach. Her voice, when it came, was soft and resonant—unamplified, but absolute.

"Do you believe this tower holds your redemption? Or are you simply another stray looking for something sharp to bleed on?"

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Ronhar Tane

And it would be just in time that they made it to the entrance, with the security gate crashing down behind the group. While their tools could get them through the simple metal bars, the other side was littered with reaching hands. Their blighted fingers and rotting nails desperately trying to grab the men, yet thanks to either this blessing and or curse.. That gate held them at bay.

The droid would be able to take a stray blast or two, but not concentrated fire. Soon it would fall to the ground, a metallic clang ringing out as the red light in its eye flickered, mostly broken and unable to continue its duty. The droid had many sharp appendages sticking from its front, and their purpose was made evidently clear as the infected blood it had been collected would leak out of the damaged container.

The droid seemed to hold no useful data, mostly just logs on the infection, observations on the samples collected. With the most notable information being that these logs had been sent to a 'V. Lutris', but still mostly an empty find.

After a moment longer their HUD's would change, with the sensors picking up and reading their fellow squad mates as numbered test subjects. Red text would begin to form a wall as each and every living member of the squad was being shown their vitals.

. . . Quality of tissue . . . Normal . . .

. . . Mental cognition . . . Alert and oriented . . .

. . . Heart rate . . . Accelerated . . .

. . . You have been selected to partake in various tests . . .

. . .

The message would then clear, yet it was evident their comms and HUD's were infiltrated by someone or something. The air as they went deeper was dense, with thick particles of something able to be seen in the flickering beams of lights. It was unknown what this was, yet it was deadly enough for their sensors to give a warning.

The path was narrow, with the first room appearing to have once been some emergency clinic? Rows of infected corpses littered medical beds, yet it seemed to have not been enough to rest the infected. Dead being found on the ground ranging from civilians to medical staff, the only things left were a handful of those strange floating drones from before, and a singular wheezing patient.

The child seemed to be weakened by the virus, yet was somehow still living? Their eyes had a fine glaze, blindness.

. . . Contamination levels rising . . .

. . . Vitals . . . Contaminated . . .

. . . Recommendation to locate nearest clinical station . . .

Their feed told them they were infected, but was it to be trusted?

"Don't touch the child, keep moving."

They all each got to here a woman's voice inside their helms, no doubt the one keeping track of the group.

. . . Nearest clinical station located . . .

. . . Recommended action, seek immediate injection at clinical station . . .

. . .

In sight there was indeed an emergency device hanging on the wall, the biohazard and warning labels detailing what these men already knew was CB-17. It was stated that currently there was no known cure, only ways to delay. The offered injections had been tested and proven to fight off both the current virus, along with something only noted as 'PTC-001'

It would appear that in a panic the once secure box had been unlocked, a bloody handprint marking the glass.




​

 

[Elmindra Xitaar]

OBJECTIVE 3
OUTER RIM | STYGIAN CALDERA | DOSTRA SYSTEM | BROSI
[SO] Darth Carnifex | Rowyna Galeway | Darth Malum of House Marr | Darth Caedes | Kaila Irons | Tamsin Graves
[TIC] Squesha | Calin Rakel | Ronhar Tane | Lord Rasnuhl

Admiral Elmindra Xitaar, First Lord to the King of Korriban, stood in silent repose upon the command deck of The Omen, her silhouette a statue of ruthless poise beneath the blood-red gleam of the Force crystals overhead. The crystals, mined from the depths of Korriban, radiated a deep glow. The Sith Admiral's crew worked in eerie synchronization, their movements deliberate and hushed under her dominion.

Beyond the transparisteel viewport lay Brosi, its dusky clouds swirling over tainted soil and turbulent violence. Around it, asteroids drifted in quiet orbit and hidden among them lay her armada: the looming Invictus, a Krovos-class star destroyer, its dagger shape cloaked by the stone; three Harrower-class Cruisers, pregnant with starfighter squadrons; and several gunship squadrons and strike frigates. Hers were not the only ships defending the Sith this day: Rowyna Galeway of the Commonwealth and Dark Councilor Darth Malum of House Marr had brought fleets of their own. More potent still, even with his singular ship, the dread presence of the Dark Lord Darth Carnifex himself bolstered Elmindra's resolve in a way only the leader of her Kainite Order could.

Elmindra reached out with the Force, casting her veil of subjugation throughout The Omen and beyond to shroud the entirety of her fleet. She shivered with unbridled satisfaction at the rush of power as the intoxicating caress of her influence settled over the thousands of minds throughout her small army of starships. The steady pulse of the gunner at battery four, the quickening breath of the pilot as they drifted silent among the asteroid field, the taut fear beneath the discipline of a junior officer who had yet to taste real battle. Each life was a thread in her web — each heartbeat hers to quicken, to calm, or to crush. Beneath her scrutiny, their fear she turned to fervor, their doubt she crushed to discipline. Still, she hungered for more. And in the depths of the dark side, desire was a weapon.

A faint smile that did not touch her slit-pupil eyes tugged at the corner of her mouth as she reached further—her awareness spiraling outward, over the tumbling asteroids, and down to the world below until she found him. Her King. She felt the echo of his power, his presence raw and unfettered. Their bond vibrated in the Force—an unspoken recognition, a reminder of what they were defending. What they had built together, here, in the Holy Worlds. She found within herself a powerful attachment to their success, a pride, and a vicious motivation to protect it from those who would dare try to take it from them.

The hiss of her Rajakzânkut Sensor Officer's voice cut through the silent tension, but she had felt it before the sensors had detected it.

"Enemy ssstarshipsss emerging from hyperssspace." A pause. "Multiple sssignaturesss moving into orbit."

Elmindra's eyes narrowed, a smug satisfaction burning behind them.

"Maintain silence," she ordered, her voice calm and glacial. "Let them believe Brosi is theirs to take."

Moments passed before the Sensor Officer spoke again. "Fighter sssignaturesss inbound."

"They're probing for hostiles," Elmindra predicted, but before she could give an order another report came in from Telemetry.

"Admiral, it appearsss some of the fightersss are breaking off."

"Show me their vector," Elmindra snapped. The holo-display before her soon shifted and she frowned as their intentions became clear.

"Send word to Kaila Irons and Tamsin Graves . They are to escort support craft and pursue those fighters. Keep them from interrupting our supply ships at all costs. Those resources are far too valuable to lose," she demanded of the Comms Officer, then turned to Captain Ag-Ro-Na.

"Deploy a single squadron of Ragnos-class fighters to intercept and destroy inbound. Leave them with nothing to report back."

"Aye, Admiral," the reptilian captain rasped in acquiescence.​

Spoiler: FLEET

The Omen: Suta-class Sith Batttlecruiser (Capital Ship)
The Invictus: Krovos-class Star Destroyer [1]
Harrower-class Cruiser [3]

Sion-class Heavy Starfighter [7 squadrons of 12]​

Ragnos-class Interceptor [7 squadrons of 12]​

Caldoth-class Bombers [7 squadrons of 12]​

Vodal-class Strike Frigate [4]
Jaw-Class Gunship "Rogue" [2 squadrons of 8]
Baron-Class Gunship "Hammer" [2 squadrons of 8]

Spoiler: TLDR

Established position of fleet hidden within the asteroid field near Brosi.
Spooky Sith Battle Meditation.
Deployed Kaila Irons and Tamsin Graves to ensure rare ore is not lost to the enemy.
Deployed a single squadron of Ragnos-class interceptors to intercept probing fighters.

 

[Spirit of Korriban]

J E N' A R I
O B J E C T I V E III

T H E
W A L K I N G
D E A D

Augustus Von Strauss​

What remained of Shoengen's streets were rocked beneath the thunderous explosions of war and choked out beneath the smokey haze of a world on fire. Windows shattered along entire city blocks and dormant speeder alarms sounded in long abandoned streets. Masonry from the stone edifices of tall buildings crumbled into the walkways below as the ships of Commandant Augustus Von Strauss landed and disgorged their soldiers.

And the dead walked here...

Down from the arterial veins of the city's lowest levels came the first waves of Jen'ari, hunched things, swaying and reaching, some of them half eaten and most covered in a chunky, brown and black splatter. Their heads lolled unnaturally, jaws hanging open, moaning. Some bore crude weapons, rotting spears or warped, dirty blades. Still others bore blasters in a sluggish grip, recalling how to use such weapons by pulling on the instincts of their past lives. These Jen'ari were not cleaned nor dressed as were their honored cousins back on Korriban, upon whom were fitted fine jewelries and perfumes. These were the depraved of the King's children, deemed unfit to remain on Korriban's holy sands. They were the failed enemies of Darth Caedes their King. The Ashlan, the pirates and treasure hunters, the many remnants of Imperial scraps. Some still wore the armor of long dead warriors, or the robes of failed Jedi. Others wore the faces of recently slain friends, the armor of Imperials... and their weapons, too.

The rhythm of their approach was not uniform. They came in threes, looking drunken or lost as they rounded street corners, then in dozens, and in hundreds. When they saw Augustus, his soldiers, meat, they shrieked and began to charge. All at once, the horde became like liquid, flowing down the streets and atop overturned vehicles. Among them, slower than the frenzied Jen'ari, drifted the Jenkoshū shepherds, their flock parting around them as they sprinted towards an unexpected feast. Ancient Sith spirits who had been interrupted from their final slumber and returned to service, the Jen'koshū wielded long and wicked blades, built of alchemized ore in the Forges of Thalassar.

Clad in the torn traditional robes of Sith past and staring out from faceless, hooded black voids, these Dreadlords glided through the streets like sheets on the wind, hanging bare inches from the ground, their toes and jagged toenails dragging across pavement. Each guided the horde as a shepherd, issuing their commands through wordless vibrations in the Force, much like oil spreading across water, or moving one's own limb. Like this they guided their flock towards preordained locus points—strategically important areas, fortifications, roadways, city centers and spaceports. A trap to lure their enemies in, crafted with perfectly convenient holes and gaps and safe places for the enemy to land and deploy... around which the dead hunger just out of earshot.

Brosi was a banquet to be had, with the Imperials as the intended feast.

O B J E C T I V E II
​

T H E
U N B O R N

War Marshal Helix Lirka Ka​

Jen'ari swarmed through the avenues in stinking waves. Staggering, twitching, sprinting with sudden and unnatural speed. Their weapons were covered in gore, torn from their prey and wielded now with what tatters of memory yet lived on from their previous lives. Most bore none at all, relying only on the strength of their bare hands and the sharpness of their teeth.

Beside them, shoulder to shoulder, walked the unborn, Helix's droids. With the direction of a Jen'koshū, the dead found themselves entirely unconcerned with their war machine counterparts. By comparison, The B1-HL infantry moved with a sense of synchronization entirely contrasted by the unruly mob appearance of the Jen'ari hordes.

Above it all, the TLR Landslide rumbled forward, crushing and bulldozing anything in its path. Equipped with an internal forging core, the mechanical behemoth fed on the wreckage, and from its flanks were deployed fresh droid units, built from the matter of the debris. Together, the undead and the metal unborn of Helix Privateers marched in defense of Brosi.

 

[Kaila Irons]

OBJECTIVE III
// CALLSIGN: Ronin-1 //​

Location: Brosi, Orbit
Wearing: Armor
Flying: 'Dûr'ashaarai' Starfighter
Tag: Bella Tamsin Graves Elmindra Xitaar

The cockpit smelled of ritual incense and blood.

Sith of the engineering corps had worked tirelessly to appease the machine spirit that was Ronin-1, offering up the soul of a prisoner sacrificed to the Dûr'ashaarai Starfighter, mixing their vitae with paint to distinguish the abominable intelligence with it's signature markings; two blood red stripes, on the starboard wing and hull.

That sacrifice was the only thing keeping the sentient machine from breaking it's restraints and killing the crew as it's pilot returned from her pilgrimage with the fleets of Korriban.

Darth Anathemous winced as the neuron-jack embedded itself into the back of her skull. The physical pain didn't bother her so much as the mental strain as their minds began to meld once more into one coherent being.

She could feel Ronin-1's anger, it's maddened need to kill. But so too could it feel her indomitable will.

It was tamed, for now.

Her vision blurred between human sense, mechanical optics and phantom glimpses of everything Tamsin Graves was experiencing in her own cockpit. They were linked—all of them—in lethal synergy.

The young Darth's natural senses did not return until Ronin-1 cleared the hangar bay on it's own.

"Ronin-2, comms check. How are you holding up?" she spoke, wiping blood from her nose.

The rest of Ronin squad followed close behind, piloting their lesser "Herald"-class counterparts in a loose wedge.

It wasn't long before the state of the battlefield painted them an ugly picture. Already three friendly IFFs vanished all at once in the distance—Confederate starfighters were already upon the fleet.

"Send word to Kaila Irons and Tamsin Graves. They are to escort support craft and pursue those fighters. Keep them from interrupting our supply ships at all costs. Those resources are far too valuable to lose,"

The call to action came down, and thankfully the officers sent to relay the First Lord's orders had the sense to address Anathemous by her titles.

Even still, the Lord of Blades, Governor of Echnos, did not take orders.

But she would consider requests.

"This is Darth Anathemous to The Omen; promise my fair share and it's yours." her voice was modulated ice.

Suspecting what the answer may be, the young Darth led her squad in a loop beneath The Omen, now approaching the cargo formation from beneath the fleet's primary plane of battle.

She had a feeling the fleets of Korriban would agree to her terms.

As one of only two Lords to control trade ports with access beyond the Blackwall, the governor of that economic powerhouse knew the value of her cooperation.

"Ronin-Two, form up on me. Ronin-Three and Four will spread out, let's close them in a pincer."

The two formations flew a few hundred meters apart, headed right for Bella and her escorts on an intercept course.

"Contact, three bandits approaching friendly freighter." Ronin-3 announced.

"I see them."

Ronin-3 was quick to engage from below the plane, dumb firing a Discord missile towards the direction enemy starfighters were moving towards. In his mind he needn't hit the enemy, just lay a swarm of Buzz Droids in their path to make this fight a little easier.

"Fox Three, fox three!"

Anathemous was quick to follow suit, lining up a targeting lock.

The dance had officially begun.

​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Undisclosed Command Centre, Thandon Star Cluster​

-

COMM-THREAD BRSI445INV-R | ENCRYPTION: ######### > Accepted

TO: Madelyn Lowe, Minister of Order

FROM: SIMPCOM-SC

SUBJECT: Brosi Reports

Minister,

Please find attached reports you requested concerning the reported incursion on Brosi. Further sitution reports are incoming and can be accessed from your SI-NET feed.

Regards,
Sector Operations | Stygian Caldera

---

MINISTRY OF ORDER COMMUNIQUE
CLASSIFICATION: LILIATUL - Sith-Imperial Eyes Only
EFFECTS REPORT: BROSI

• CANDORIAN BLIGHT has crippled manufacturing on Brosi. Shoengen is judged to be the epicentre, and the megacity currently has zero production capability.
• EASING QUARANTINE MEASURES will improve industry growth in next 1-2 standard Galactic cycles.
• KEY SECURITY INFRASTRUCTURE is offline or compromised due to quarantine.
• There is SIGNIFICANT VULNERABILITY to outside attack due to Brosi's severely weakened defences and quarantine restrictions affecting Legion response times.

On, <REDACTED>, Ministry of Order representatives <REDACTED> conducted an after-action review of Brosi's security following initial reports the Candorian Blight had been contained. MINORDER representatives identified serious security deficits resulting from the mass casualty event and sebsequent quarantine. It is the Ministry's assessment that Brosi constitutes a high-risk vulnerability to the sectoral security of the Thandon Star Cluster.


It is recommended revitalisation efforts be accelelerated to ensure the safety of the Empire's Sith Holy Worlds.


The Ministry of Order assesses the current security threat to the Holy Worlds as MODERATE.

---

Sith-Imperial Foreign Intelligence Agency [SIFIA]

Classification: LILIATUL

Intelligence Report: Imperial Confederation Preparing Military Offensive on Thandon Cluster.

1] The Sith-Imperial Foreign Intelligence Agency has received credible intelligence indicating The Imperial Confederation (hereafter TIC) is preparing an incursion across Sith border targeting the Holy Worlds.

2] The TIC's recent annexation of the Minntooine system has placed necessary fleets and logistics close enough to the Sith Empire border to conduct a significant military strike.

3] Since the annexation, SIFIA operatives have observed a concentration of infantry garrisons and a concentration of TIC Naval vessels in the Minntooine system. The exact military force is unknown but is likely capable of both sector blockade and planetary invasion.

4] <REDACTED> received approval for warning indicators to be submitted to TYPHOJEM. Returned result indicated a TIC military incursion is HIGHLY LIKELY in the next 10 standard Galactic rotations, and that the initial target will be Brosi.

5] The exact time and location of any planned TIC military activity is a current gap.

---

DARK COUNCIL DIRECTIVE
CLASSIFICATION: ITZSODZHO
CEASE ORDER - BROSI

To the officials of the Ministry,

This address is on the authority of the Dark Council. Take heed of the following instructions: You will cease defensive preparations on the planet of Brosi. You will allow the Legions to prepare as they must. The Council has instructed the Sith Lords and their legions to act in response to any fruitless Imperial attack.

The strength to quell any interloper will be found in the salvation of the Dark Side. Brosi is a dying world, and in its death rattle the Lords of the Sith may find the strength to choke those impetuous enough to walk on our sacred grounds.

Cease your preparations, withdraw all Ministry security forces from Brosi, and watch the heretics fall on their own sword.

End of instructions.

Warning: Unauthorised disclosure of ITZSODZHO-class information is punishable by summary execution under the Internal Security Edict 901.

---

Sith Imperial Military Intelligence Directorate [SIMID]
Incident Alert: Invasion of Brosi
Classification: ZÚTADISHAJ

• Sector Alert System detected hyperspace signatures indicating arrival of TIC ships at hyperspace entry points X212, X342, and Y243.
• Sith Legion forces on Brosi have reported engaging Imperial garrisons.
• Sith Lords in Thandon Star Cluster are converging on Brosi.
• Sith Fleets have been dispatched to intercept TIC forces.

— THREAD TERMINATED —​

 

[Tova Zyl]

Location: Shoengen
Thread Objective: Storm the Tower
Mission Objective: Activate signal beacon
Entourage: Squad HVT-32
Callsign: Firecracker
Allies: Seraphina Pryde
Opposition: Lucette | Lysander von Ascania | Madrona A’Mia

Tova was always calm before a mission. Focus helped success. On the descent for this mission she was contemplating more than she should have. The rest of Stormclad Company were on Ziost. A real war zone. Why had HVT-32 been sent to Brosi? And why assigned to the Knight-Sergeant? At least Tova didn't know that the Knight was mere weeks old. Vat programming might be a thing, but Tova would have questioned how well it would play out in the field.

As it was this was the fiesta action Tova would consider real warfare since the war with the Tangel Arm Coalition. The Imperial Confederation had been part of minor scrapes to clean up some rabble. And of course there was training. But this was the Sith. It would be something very real.

The shuttle ride to the surface was normal until the Knight-Sergeant gave final instructions. It wasn't her near flawless Hapan features or her command of the Force that put Tova on edge; it was the reminder of the need for virus suppression. The troopers weren't given specifics which meant it was bad. Or there was the possibility of it being really bad. All the same Tove patted her supply of the suppressant and gave her head a bit of a shake. Her ears made the fit of a helmet a bit less regular than the typical humanoid.

Then came the announcement that Tova would be with the Knight for the mission. Tova had worked with Crusaders in the past, but there was a degree of enjoyment in the announcement that threw the Lannik off just a bit. Then there was the hand on her arm…did it mean something? Other commanders have touched her before, slap on the back or shoulder. This seemed different though. Tova shrugged it off. Forcers were different sometimes.

"You can count on me to make things go boom, Knight-Sergeant. And you can call me Firecracker, call signs are easier than rank and name for us," Tova responded to the order to accompany the Imperial Knight.

They couldn't get much further in the pre battle talk before a "drop pod" crashed to the ground and released a crazy demon monster. Tova's hand went to the handle of her rifle and gripped it tightly as she wondered what her explosives would do to that thing. Before she could form a string hypothesis however it screamed and she flinched.

"Mission plan doesn't now include going after that thing right Knight-Sergeant? I pride myself on bringing down some pretty big stuff, but I think orbital bombardment is just what that thing is calling for," Tova smirked as the landing craft continued to its destination.

As they approached the landing site, Tova gave a nod to the team's comm specialist "Whisper". Given their mission objective she would be good to keep nearby.

Spoiler: Loadout

• NZ-HLR-330 Blaster Rifle
• G-2 Imperial Blaster
• FAE-A-11 Imperial Stormtrooper Armor
• explosives
• standard rations (3 days)
• Viral Suppressant

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Brosi
Objective: 1 - Protect the tower!
Equipment: Vibro-daggers, vibro-sword, blaster pistol, mask
Outfit: Assassin Attire
Tag: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory

Eira had been posted at the tower on Brosi after watching the meeting of the council members about the incoming attack from the Imperial Confederacy. Something that Eira was sure would not was the best use of her abilities since she was generally less effective as a guard or someone stuck in a single location. But it was where she had been allocated and Eira knew better than to object. She would not bring the wrath of Quinn upon her head for protesting work, or shirking her duties and allowing threats to infiltrate the Sith Order's Holy Worlds territory and steal intel that could further damage the Order.

That was a risk that Eira recognised and took the work here seriously. The acolyte had spent the previous few days just wandering the tower, roaming around and learning the layout of the building, it was ideal for the assassin if she needed to know how to move quickly, efficiently and out manoeuvre her enemies that attempted to break into the tower. There was no attempting to hide what Eira was, she was Sith, she moved like one and she held the attitude and Force surrounding her as a Sith. It was an approach to intimidate and attempt to have spies reconsider their work.

Feeling the tremors in the Force, Eira could feel that things were happening outside of the tower. War was happening somewhere near them but Eira knew that she couldn't rush off and find the battles, the imperials that foolishly came to attack. What mattered now was that they could take nothing from the tower, that they would achieve no success and be pushed back. Forced to admit that they could not get anything because they failed to plan for her. That Eira was a threat to be taken seriously.

Moving through the floors, Eira was aiming to clear every floor from threats, patrolling with a purpose. The assassin moved silently, using the Force to cloak her presence so that people wouldn't spot Eira till it was too late. Scoping through the floors, Eira found a dead guard laid in the shadows. Pulling the body towards her with the Force, Eira inspected the dead man, her blood red eyes scanning over the corpse as she discovered the killing blow. "Skilled killer, precision blow and ensured silence..." Eira's nails tap on the body as she thought over the death and what type of person she was going to be hunting.

"We have someone infiltrating the tower. I am going to handle this. Be aware of others attempting to do the same." Eira reported to the other guards in the building. Her eyes lifted from the corpse and looked in the directions her new target could have headed in. Breathing in deeply, she felt the Force guiding her in one direction and decided to follow it.

Time to hunt a spy.

 

[Ronhar Tane]

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

Fleet Admiral Vorin Zonill stood in stunned silence at the helm of the MIN Collateral Star, unable to process the events that had just occurred mere moments ago. He swallowed hard, adjusted his admiral's uniform, and turned to Captain Sellferr:

"How many of our ships made it through before the planetary shield activated, Captain?"

Sellferr paused for a moment, not wanting to look the admiral in the eye. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he spoke up:

"Conservative estimates place the number of support craft at around 30% of our total forces. Starfighter estimates are at 45%. The rest..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence, as Zonill knew what he was going to stay. The rest of his forces were currently trapped outside the shield, unable to provide ground support to the Imperial troops who desperately needed it.

It was, perhaps, one of the oldest tricks in the holotapes that the Sith could have pulled, and Zonill had fallen for it beautifully. Of course, the other Imperial Admirals had been just as equally fooled as Zonill was, but it was of little consolation to him.

Vorin sighed to himself. What was done was done, and there was no reason to cry over spilled Bantha's milk. His efforts would be much better served supporting Admiral Squesha and Admiral Calin Rakel against the Sith Fleet...wherever they were currently hiding at the moment. Zonill cleared his throat before giving his next command.

"Understood, Captain. Initiate a sensor scan of the surrounding area", Zonill ordered.

"Understood, sir. Sensors indicate an asteroid field nearby. It's quite possible that the Sith are using it for cover."

"Very well. Launch 3 squadrons of STX-TIEs to scout the area. The moment that we make contact with the Sith, we engage them. The Collateral Star and the Vilifiers will engage from the front, while the CR125 Corvettes will maintain the flanks. The Nebulon Fire will bring up the rear. I want all remaining starfighters launched only once contact is made. For now, we stay put until we have confirmation. Am I understood?"

"Of course, sir. Orders received"

Zonill watched as the fighters streaked past the Collateral Star, heading toward was was likely to be their demise within that asteroid field. Zonill wondered how those pilots must have felt. After all, he too had once been a pilot to a similarly sized starfighter, and he distinctly remembered the fear that came with venturing out to battle for the first time. Many of his pilots were very young: they might as well have been boys.

Today, they would become men. That, or they would die trying in the process.

"It's never easy, sir, no matter how many times you do it. Sending men to their possible death", Sellferr remarked as the STX-TIEs grew smaller and smaller.

"I know, Captain, I know. I just hope we're making the right decision."

"Of course sir. After all, you must be aware of the situation on the surface. Just imagine the unchecked carnage that these Sith would bring if we weren't here to stop them. No, they should be honored to make such sacrifices in the name of order."

"Thank you, Captain", Zonill replied, feeling just the slightest bit better. The burdens of leadership were never easy to deal with, but having someone like Captain Sellferr made them just a bit more tolerable.

Suddenly, Sellferr's attention drifted to his comms array. He started at viewscreen, seemingly incredulous at what he was seeing.

"That cannot be, Captain Cooridg. You must be experiencing some sort of malfunction."

He argued with the viewscreen for a few more moments, before turning his full attention back to Zonill.

“Admiral Zonill, you might want to see this...”

TAGS:
Squesha
Calin Rakel
Marlon Sularen
Lord Rasnuhl
Darth Carnifex
Rowyna Galeway
Elmindra Xitaar​

---

---

---

​

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.

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

Captain Cooridg thought that he had seen it all. He couldn't have been more wrong.

High above the battlefield, Cooridg was looking at what he could only describe as the largest living thing that he had ever seen in his life. Some kind of monstrous lizard creature was rampaging across the planet, shooting beams of light from its gaping jaws. Anything it touched, it obliterated, leaving nothing alive in its wake.

Cooridg was keenly aware of just how vulnerable he was. Although his Lambda-class YT-1760 Annihilator was quite heavily armored, there was no way it would survive even a glancing blow from the creature's breath beam, to say nothing of a direct hit. More worryingly was the fact that his ship, the MIN Puff the Magic Krayt Dragon, was a rather slow moving craft, making any attempts to escape resoundingly difficult.

Luckily for Cooridg and his crew, the creature's attention was currently focused elsewhere, and it had yet to see Cooridg flying above the battlefield. He focused his gunship's cameras on the creature, broadcasting its destruction to the orbiting Mahporeem Fleet above the planet. Normally, they would be raining turbolasers down onto the monster by now, if it wasn't for the blasted planetary shield that was currently active.

Naturally, the moment his gunship opened fire, he would instantly become a target. For now, he simply continued to observe the beast, praying that it didn't turn its gaze upon him and his ship as he continued flying toward Saltare Dothon ...

TAGS:
Garza
Saltare Dothon

​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: 1 Hold the Tower
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Drystan Creed
--------------------------------------------

One last deflection and the final turret in this corridor was smoking and sparking just like the rest of them, leaving Him in the brief bliss of silence if nothing else. Figuring out where to go next in this accursed tower was starting to become quite the concern, the last thing He wanted was to get lost in the corporate maze that comprised this place. Darth Strosius clicked His tongue and glanced at the doors around Him, reaching up to tap on His mask's commlink to try and request some sort of layout for the building to be sent His way.

Only for His fingers to pause as the silence was rather rudely and brashly broken by someone's verbose words behind Him. The masked man turned His head, seemingly not bothering to turn His whole form around to face the other intruder, and glanced over the red armored man that had suddenly appeared behind Him. Despite the rather bold pose at least this annoyance had some sense of style He supposed. A notion that He instantly retracted as the exaggerated gestures began, finishing with a pointed finger in His direction.

Darth Strosius wasn't sure that He had the time nor the energy to play into whatever delusions compelled this strange "protector" but it seemed as though He'd have to handle him regardless. "Look I'm not really one for slaying teenagers with attitude, that's Jedi business." His tone was dry as He finally turned to face the other intruder, slowly bringing up His weapon to level the crimson blade towards the delusional man to match the pointed finger in kind.

"So in my very shallow pool of mercy, I shall allow you to return the way you came and leave before I have to do something fatal or otherwise debilitating towards you. I'd take the chance to flee now if I were you, it's the only one you'll get." Really He just wanted to spare Himself the trouble, He already had to sort His way through the tower itself and adding any amount of conflict to what was already appearing to be a rather tiring task wasn't ideal at all.

 

[Lor'Vekka]

​

Her?

The first time they had met: the gala. She'd felt a connection to the woman. Something in her mannerisms. She didn't quite seem evil the way Sith were portrayed and she had, in fact, seemed pleasant. It had attracted her. Not in a sensual way, but in a way that felt like comfort. She hadn’t understood it at the time. In fact, she still didn’t actually understand what she was feeling. Even as the woman sent a sphere of kinetic energy towards her.

That served to snap her out of her thoughts. Wrapping her hand in a barrier of the Force, the slapped the sphere away from her, allowing her invisibility to drop as she did so. Though she didn’t wear the helmet that came with her armor, she still wore the lower facemask that Quinn had seen her in before.

The sphere would slam into some of the furniture that Delsin was trying to hit her with, blasting it apart. That left less to hit her, though she didn’t stop it from doing so. Seemed like a bad idea, but the more you knew about the armor she was wearing, the more it made sense. It was designed for such a confrontation, and though she felt the crushing weight of being slammed by various bits and pieces of debris, she didn’t really feel any worse for wear when the bombardment was complete. She simply pushed the furniture off of herself, and climbed back to her feet, letting dust fall as it did.

“You don’t seem to control your subordinates well,” she said to Quinn, clearly speaking about Delsin. “Watching the hall doesn’t involve attacking me.”

She kicked a piece of a chair that was lying in front of her and sent it flying so hard against the opposite wall it embedded itself within it. It wasn't anger; just a desire to get it out of her way.

“And yes, we met before. At the Gala.”

A hand clasped the hilt of her saber. It was circular in design, with two different activation switches because of the complex nature of it. Though it did resemble some of the weapons used by the Inquisitorious in ages past, it was also different in that the circular portion was wreathed in its own containment field that allowed it to also present a plasma blade when activated. It was complex, and she didn’t know many that could wield a weapon designed that way because of the potential for self-harm.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here. I wish I hadn’t. I like you. You’re different. But if you stand in my way, and the way of the Empress, then I’m forced to face you as the Inquisitor that I am.”

She flicked one switch, extending two red blades from the emitters at either side of the circle. Then she flicked the other, igniting the blades on the exterior of the circle itself. A red glow filled the room. Then she reached out with the Force and grasped the door. Delsin may have broken the controls to it, but he hadn’t broken the door itself. A simple application and she caused it to slam down between them, hopefully cutting him off from Quinn, if only for the few moments it took for him to break through the door itself.

Then she focused back on the woman before her.

“Don’t serve the false Sith Emperor. Find purpose in the Empire and join me. Help me extract the data from this tower.”

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

 

[Lirka Ka]

(En route to) OBJECTIVE II
TAGS: War Marshal Helix , OPEN

The belly of the beast loomed, and while the tower offered a great many potentialities for what laid within. Lirka’s comms came to life with the metallic words of one War Marshal Helix - the same murderous casualness she’d come to expect. It made sense, she supposed. When one grew old and withered it was easy to take things at a more leisurely pace, especially war.

A low chuckle came from her helm. Why not? There was no harm in taking part in a field test. Quickly did the Once Sephi bark out a command to her ride, heralding the gunship that had ferried her to the battlefield not long ago.

“Bring it back around! The War Marshal desires my presence.”

It’d only be proper to indulge the mechanoid - in many ways, Lirka considered him her “apprentice” of sorts. Though such belief was certainly a one sided thing born from the delusions of a madwoman who deemed herself “the guiding hand”

As the vessel soared through the air, swerving its way back towards the mega tower. Lirka Ka’s lumbering form moved to meet the vessel as its doors opened to embark the Imperator. Little time was wasted to sail through the killing fields to the War Marshal’s position, and the lumbering destructive form of his newest monstrosity. The War Marshal could be called many things, greedy, cruel, monstrously evil, but uncreative? No one could ever call him that without lying.

Of course, Lirka Ka was rarely one to stay silent. And as she flew her way to meet up with her mechanical friend, their comms opened up once more as Lirka’s words came to life. There was a certain, predictable, tone to them - always probing, Lirka Ka was. And her question was no different today

“So, dear War Marshal, what do you make of it all?”

And of course, she was as vague as ever.

 

[Eurydice]

Darth Nefaron
​

Eurydice, like Nefaron, peered through the crater in the wall. She observed the violent landscape only because it was less distressing than the unconscious trooper, bloodied and concussed, who was bound to the chair behind them.

The first thing she felt, overlain upon her own discomfort, was pity. To be caught in the Corpse Lord's web was a horrifying thing. If she thought she could've gotten away with untying the trooper and urging him to flee, she just might have.

But she would not. Eurydice needed no reminder of her master's cruelty toward disobedience.

The building trembled as a blast reverberated through the structure's bones. They were close enough to hear its thunderous impact, even feel the brief flare of heat from incineration, but far enough still to be relatively safe from the fallout.

In the momentary flash that overtook the room, Eurydice's features pulled into an expression of silent horror. They hastily rearranged themselves into something more aloof, but the rebreather covering the lower half of her face obscured much of her visible disgust.

As always, Eurydice did what her master bid. She took a slow step forward, closed her eyes, and tasted the misery in the Force.

Thirty. Her senses were not yet refined enough to discern each departing soul. All she felt was death.

"I sense fear. I sense anger, and a loss of hope."

Her voice was quiet, soft and unobtrusive.

"I see raised banners in the wind. Their emblem, I cannot yet discern."

Eurydice's eyes fluttered open. Everywhere she looked - or didn't look - was a nightmare. Such was the unlife of an apprentice to Darth Nefaron. With a slow blink, she craned her attention up to his gnarled face.

"Are we…not to enter the fray ourselves, My Lord?"

 

[Her]

---

---

Brosi, Corporate Sector, Outer Rim Territories;
Thandon Star Cluster;
THE NASCENT IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION!
Tag: Allyson Locke

---

"The weak will always be victims. That is the way of the universe. The strong take what they want, and the weak suffer at their hands. That is their fate; it is inevitable. Only the strong survive, because only the strong deserve to."
-- Darth Bane.

---

​

OBJECTIVE I.

Equipment:

• PhantomSkin Nullsuit.
• Sithspawn Revitalization Projector [SRP-7].
• Ufo.
• Portable Dampening Field [PDF].
• The Cone of Silence.
• DSDT Program.
• ABC - Aerosolized Bacta Cannister.
• NZ All-Purpose Viral Suppressant Type II.
• HERA- DSOM/RQ [Direct Central Operating System] A.K.A The Red Queen.
• BN-IV Nerve Agent.
• Lightsaber (curved hilt).

NOW.
​

I want more life, father.

Ragged breaths filled the hallways of the Ore-Duke tower which betrayed that the woman had been hurt as she ran with a pace of someone that was being hunted down and in fear for their life.

Blood stained the floor below and upon the walls as she bounced off them in search of refuge. The eldritch horrors outside the tower only served to increase the terror and fear coursing through the enigma known as Her as she tried to find somewhere safe-- a place where she could settle down to tend to the wound that she had just suffered at the hands of a woman who, for the undercover Dark Lord, should not be here.

Not on Brosi.

Fighting for them.

THEN.​

RED QUEEN: Analysis on-going. Slicing security protocols, equipment and defensive technology. Searching for traps. Transferring data packets to Section C archives.

The undercover Dark Lord of the Sith stood indomitable- powerful- within the walls of the administration office found on the forty-third level of the Ore-Duke tower.

They were standing as a spectre supposed to be unseen and unheard- obfuscated by the silence of the cone, the dampening field of the nearby generator, and her body blended into the environment through the nullsuit that she wore. Nobody could touch her, and concealed by her powers in the dark side, Her could watch from here- to see Brosi fall and her adversaries with it.

Untouchable and enamoured with the machinations of the grand plan, Her was on the precipice of victory over them- the amalgamation of Sith Lords (and more) who had emerged from Stygian Caldera to destroy all that she had once believed in all those years ago.

Today the Kainite strongholds and His powerbase would be crushed beneath the heels of the Imperial invaders brought here by Her to do thy bidding.

Revenge was at hand.

RED QUEEN: The spider tugs at its thread. A pulse in the dark... a mind reaching where it should not. Someone seeks you. They are close. Too close. Shall I cut the thread?

The hairs on the back of Her's neck stood on end as she replied: "Clarify?"

RED QUEEN: A signal was emitted from a cybernetic implant approximately 87 seconds ago. It initiated a trace protocol targeting our location. The source could be mobile, converging on your coordinates. This was not random. It was intentional.

Permutations came to Her as she tried to calculate how much time eighty-seven seconds were precisely. As she did the confidence- the indomitability, untouchability, the very notion of being concealed and unknown to the enemy- was drained away from Her as reality set in that somehow she had been inexplicably discovered.

Eight-seven seconds. That is a minute and a half...

"Where are they now?" Her asked as she averted their gaze away from the battle to the AI suspended above them next to the cone.

Suddenly what was happening outside didn't matter anymore.

RED QUEEN: "Unknown."

There was a pause. The anxiety and tension of the room became palpable. Her reached out into the Force to sense them- to find them with her great power in the dark side. She felt nothing.

Fear began to settle in.

RED QUEEN: "Tracking signal has ceased. All telemetry links have gone dark. Their presence... no longer registers on any system. I am recalibrating."

Fear turned to horror.

"You lost them?"

RED QUEEN: "Negative. They removed themselves. There is no trace to follow. This is not a malfunction. It is... deliberate."

Horror turned into terror.

"How?"

RED QUEEN: "...I do not know."

A rare moment of hesitation. The machine was perfectly imperfect. Much like it's creator.

RED QUEEN: "They should be visible. All logic dictates they should be visible."

Her turned around fully to observe the room that she was standing in. There was not enough time to pack up the technology that she had deployed here. No time to think either.

Instinct kicked in. Her left hand darted down to her belt and produced the Lightsaber blade. It snapped into life with a sizzling hiss and as it did her thoughts betray her. Does she hide somewhere in the room, or does she run?

Hrrrrm. The blade wielded in her hand hums as she adjusts and looks about at a dark room. The right hand snatches at something invisible- elusive- and the Force obeys her command as the Cone of Silence deactivates so that she could hear.

As the static field drops Her hears something at the last possible second. It was heard far too late. Her terrified gaze turns in the direction of where she heard it and the last thing she sees is the snap of the quiver fired by something hanging in suspended mid-air. The Dark Lord cannot react in time- her powers in the Force have been betrayed.

No time to sense the incoming danger- only the instinct to react.

Those instincts save her life. As Her tries to dart out of the way the arrow hits them. Not in the heart but in the left shoulder, and as Her yelps in pain while collapsing to the ground, the Lightsaber in her palm deactivates, drops and rolls across the dark floor of the office to be left abandoned. Next the doors to the office slam open and the visage of Allyson's target is seen darting down the hallway as they scramble away.

They both know it was a serious hit. But not immediately life threatening and whether it be through adrenaline, fear, instinct, force powers or a mixture of all of them the woman Allyson just shot is on the run. Darting down the corridors of level forty-three trying to find safety. A place to hide. To use the medical gear on her person to tend to the wound on her shoulder. They are weaponless- their Lightsaber blade abandoned in the office Locke has just entered via the vents.

All signs point to the advantage for the Shadow as their opponent runs.

Injured. Vulnerable.

Ready to be killed.

---

 

[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

Losing My Religion

It was hard remembering the last time she'd been out and about like this. Certainly she'd made an appearance, if rarely, here and there with her husband Darth Prazutis , but she didn't remember the last time she'd held a lightsaber. That is, of course, in the sense that she couldn't recall the final decade of her life before her supposedly tragic end and unceremonious return. In truth she'd spent the entire time from the beginning of the end of the Sith Empire til shortly before the death of her daughter rather, well, dead. Going into the specifics on how she'd been clawed back from the afterlife wasn't something she cared to get into, nor one that she really could recall beyond the sudden state of consciousness, but through some strange quirk in that process the person who'd stepped into the dead woman's shoes was the Braith that had just married Braxus Zambrano some decades earlier -- as if she'd been plucked out of the past rather than truly brought back to the realm of the living.

"Disgusting."

The witch wasn't referring to the myriad orbalisks that clung to her skin like armor, either. She'd never been fond of the undead, finding herself rather squeamish at even the thought of a walking corpse, and here she was in the thick of things. This wasn't fifty years ago, however, and this certainly wasn't a fledgling Galactic Alliance she was defending. "Remarkable at how little things change throughout the years.." She muttered to herself, glancing up at the grey skies with something of a wistful tug at the corner of her lips even as drop pods fell from it into the landscape off in the distance. How the woman her husband had lived with in the decades between the rise of the fallen Sith Empire and now might've approached the situation was a scenario she tried to imagine in her head, though it wasn't one she could guess given some of the stories she'd heard of her dramatic shift from eccentric witch to melodramatic Sith lord in the years leading up to her death.

A dark, Indigo-colored, smoke snaked up from the ground beneath her as she walked towards the tower, circling up and around her body like a long serpentine tendril, before it abruptly expanded over her hungrily only to dissipate just as quickly. Some distance away were two other individuals separated from the many others that had found themselves quickly embroiled in a hot war. Darth Virelia and Brent Warnel had already found themselves in the tower proper, even if only just inside behind one balcony of many, and though she was loathe to step in between a pair already bound to dance there was little other choice she had if it meant driving her spear into the heart of this conflict sooner. In the same moment that she'd been spirited away from the ground outside Braith appeared in a similar column of smoke between the man and woman. It was rare that she'd made use of the things she'd learned from the Aing-Tii in the recollection she had of the time between parting ways with them and the last memory she had before coming to in this time period but it was precisely moments like these that she'd ever found herself moving herself with the force before.

"Not quite sure what I was expecting, but I don't think it was this." She said.

Rather than being dressed in some painstakingly crafted armor wrought of alchemical steel the witch stood covered from ankle to collar by what might've looked to be shifting scales - orbalisks forced to act as a carapace of sorts for her. She held a spear that was quite a bit taller than she was in her left hand while her right rest firmly on her hip, from which a pair of lightsabers that could be fastened together were dangling from a paltry cord that'd wrapped around her waist. 'Perhaps I should've just tagged along with Braxus.' Braith thought, an eyebrow raised as she sized up the pair with a quick turn of her head from one towards the other. "Neither of you seem very.. Imperial." She said, providing a brief reasoning for what she'd already said.

 

[Selrik Lorcas]

​

The mobile command center didn’t move regularly. There was little need for it to do so, especially as they orchestrated the perimeter of their forces. While they encountered heavy resistance from the presence of Zombies on the world, there was little report of direct encounters with Sith troops. It would seem they had not been heavily present on the world despite their apparent outbreak. Or, perhaps, that was intentional as the outbreak was orchestrated by the Sith themselves. He chose to believe it was the latter, rather than allowing himself to fall into the trap of believing his foe incompetent.

“Reporting a shield now in place over the world,” the Captain said. “Further drops aren’t possible at the moment.”

So they were limited to what had already landed. No matter. There was a rather significant army at his disposal. Well, at least until the arrival of Garza . The landing of the beast was not without its own level of fanfare. A torrential wash of water, the unleashing of a multitude of Sithspawn, including the great beast itself. Yes, he knew of its existence, but the chances they would find it on Brosi had been slim. It seemed that small chance had been enough to make a mess of things.

"Inferno to Selrik Lorcas and other allied forces, the Sith have activated shield generators, disabling orbital support. Inferno is changing mission, we're going after the shield generators. Transmit shield generator coordinates to me when we get a location on them."​

Selrik moved to the communications station and hit the button to respond, “Inferno, we’re transmitting the coordinates as confirmed from scans conducted by naval forces. Eliminate the generator at all costs and do it swiftly. This beast they’ve unleashed will make quick work of our forces otherwise. Lorcas out.”

Stepping back he motioned to the Captain.

“Get those coordinates sent immediately. Have artillery begin firing on that location to soften them up for Inferno.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain went to give that order and the artillery shortly thereafter began bombarding the distant target with missile and shell fire. Selrik returned to the war map and watched as a great swath of their forces suddenly blipped out of existence in the vicinity of the great beast. That wasn’t good. If it could wipe out whole swaths of forces in seconds this was going to be a short battle. If they didn’t do something to take care of it.

He moved back to the comms.

“Grand Moff Lorcas to Captain Tane. Any airborn assets you have below the shield that are available, direct them against the giant creature that’s landed on the battlefield. We need to keep it busy until the shield is down and we can bombard it.”

He paused for a moment and then reached out to the next asset, which he absolutely hated doing. Anything related to the Force disgusted him, and having to ask for the assistance of someone related to it, in any form of it, greatly angered him. He would make a point to find alternate solutions to this problem for future engagements.

“Grand Moff Lorcas to Governor Vantai. I have an unorthodox request, but is there any means at your disposal to dealing with these Sithspawn on the battlefield? Particularly the larger ones? If so, now would be a good time for it.”

While he awaited the resolution of his orders, he watched out the viewport as more weapons fire was sent on its way towards the distant shield generators. In addition, other forces were assaulting the enemy at the production facility with the intention of taking control of it. It was a multi-fronted battlefield. At least he had a safe location from which to handle the battle. It would be far more difficult to observe from space what was going on below.

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

 

[Sieliel Dimegor]

---

---

Brosi, Corporate Sector, Outer Rim Territories;
Thandon Star Cluster;
THE NASCENT IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION!
Tag: Koda Fett

Sieliel Dimegor Bounty.

---

​

OBJECTIVE III.

Equipment:

• TIE/ss Supremacy.​

​

The sky was a mess of fire and fury.

Another squadron of TIE/ss screamed past Sieliel's flank, peeling off to intercept a Sith shuttle convoy trying to punch through the Imperial defenses. Sieliel's fingers danced over her console as she pushed her fighter into a tight barrel roll around the broadside of the Vindicator: the capital ship her wing was tasked to screen and defend.

Below her, Brosi's upper atmosphere simmered like a storm about to break.

"Black Wing, tighten your spread. They're trying to split us," came Black Lead's clipped voice over the comm.

"Copy, lead," Sieliel replied, shifting formation.

A shadow flickered across her viewport. She glanced out her viewport but nothing was out there. Just stars and the swirl of distant fire from wreckage, shuttles, and ships in a death-dance too far to identify. Still, something twisted in her stomach. It was a pulse. A chill came down the back of her neck. As it did her HUD lit up with telemetry as enemy bombers approached from portside. Sieliel fell in behind her wingmate, aligning for intercept. Laser cannons charged, systems steady. Her grip on the yoke tightened. Not from nerves, but from that subtle discomfort that hadn't faded.

A strange silence punctuated the comms for half a moment, as if even the radio waves were holding their breath.

Then:

"Red Squadron, fall back to tertiary perimeter. Black Wing, hold defensive posture. Do not break."

A dozen voices acknowledged on the intercom. Sieliel adjusted her vector, running targeting routines, and still that feeling didn't leave her.

It wasn't fear. She knew what that felt like. When the Empire of the Lost fell, and as she had languished in a detention centre on Lianna, waiting to be executed by her superiors or by assassins sent by the conspiracy that she had served, fear was a constant companion. She had gotten used to it by now. Always looking over her shoulder for someone to finish her off.

Fifth Wing. Comrades. Sith assassins.

It was always there.

This felt different. It was not quite dread but something just behind it. Like standing alone on a parade ground and sensing eyes on your back. No sound. No data. Just a presence. She tried to shake it off. Now wasn't the time for ghosts. Her sensors remained clean. No anomalous signals. No stealth signatures. No irregularities. Sieliel squinted out toward the debris field that orbited Brosi's second moon. Jagged chunks of ruined hull and melted durasteel drifted aimlessly- the remains from older skirmishes, perhaps even wars she hadn't fought in.

Something caught her eye there. Not a ship. Not a signal. Just a shape that seemed… out of place. Then it was gone. Just debris, she told herself.

"Keep it together," she muttered under her breath. "You're not green anymore."

She focused back on her wingmate's formation. Their patrol arc was solid, and the Vindicator's shields were still strong. They were holding. For now. Sieliel exhaled to herself.

Yet, there was something deep inside her. Beneath the training, the war games and the years of command in the Imperial Immortals, a part of her still whispered: Something's coming.

But Sieliel had many names for it. But it was still elusive. Out there in the cosmos interlinked by the anomalous presence in the Imperial forces known to her as LAETOR.

It possessed no shape.

There would be no warning.

Fear gave way to the quiet truth that, perhaps somewhere out in that battlefield, she was being hunted and didn't even know it yet.

---

 

[Saltare Dothon]

"What in oblivion is that!?" Logan shouted from the driver's seat of the Rancor. Saltare unbuckled from the rear crew compartment and stepped forward just behind Logan, looking out at the battlefield as a gigantic metal pod fell onto the surface of Brosi. It impacted with a force so great that Saltare felt the vibrations through the hull of his armored vehicle.

What followed next was next to unbelievable. "Empress save us," someone stated over the comms. A being so large Saltare couldn't believe what he was seeing, strode out from the pod, unleashing hell on the world. It appeared reptilian, standing on two feet and unleashing a horror through his body that caused his very soul to revolt. Beams of unknown power swept from the creature and crackled across the battlefield, killing friend and foe alike.

"What sorcery is this?" Logan asked from the driver's seat.

"I don't know, but it's not our concern. Our concern is the shield generator. With that down, they can bring a hundred of these beasts, and it won't matter; it won't survive a full broadside from a Star Destroyer. Keep your heads about you, remember the mission."

Selrik moved to the communications station and hit the button to respond, “Inferno, we’re transmitting the coordinates as confirmed from scans conducted by naval forces. Eliminate the generator at all costs and do it swiftly. This beast they’ve unleashed will make quick work of our forces otherwise. Lorcas out.”

"Copy that, Inferno is en route."

Saltare saw Logan glance back out the viewscreen at the beast in the distance, clearly unsettled.

"Logan, I said-"

"Incoming!" the co-pilot screamed as Saltare snapped his head forward to see what was inbound.

A ship on fire careened into their path, and Saltare swore he made eye contact with the pilot before his world was encompassed by fire and smoke.

****

"Up Saltare! Up!"

Blaster bolts rang out as hands grabbed him and dragged him from the wreckage.

"Get up!"

Saltare's vision was blurred, but he saw several members of Inferno standing around him amidst twisted metal and fire, letting blasters and kinetic fire off towards an unknown enemy.

"Stems," he told his armor as it injected him full of stimulants, dilating his pupils and clearing his head.

"That ship was holding troops," Logan told Saltare as he helped haul him to his feet, "We're engaging them now."

"I'm turning the other two Rancors around Saltare," Beth told him over the comms.

"Negative! Continue to the shield generators and finish the mission. That takes precedence."

Saltare finally got to his feet and peered over the wreckage of the Rancor, which was a smoking ruin, providing them some cover from the dropship that had collided with them. Saltare watched several enemy troops jumping from the dropship and pointing toward Inferno's Rancor, already getting ready to engage.

" Selrik Lorcas , Inferno has been waylaid. A portion of my team is en route to the generators, but I'm engaging an unknown enemy element on the flanks. Ronhar Tane or any other TIC forces, Inferno is requesting starfighter reinforcement on my coordinates and reinforcements to the shield generator to help the rest of Inferno Squadron."

Saltare glanced over the wrecked ship again.

"Let's make this quick Inferno, this is a waste of time. I want detonators on the hull of that ship. Blow their cover and force them out, then cut them down."

Saltare launched a detonator toward the downed enemy ship, waiting for the inevitable blast while he sighted down his rifle and his HUD tracking any target that would move.

TAGS: Selrik Lorcas Garza Ronhar Tane Onrai
ENGAGING: Jacen Breska

 

[War Marshal Helix]

Objective II: Seize the Means
Equipment: Himself
Tags: Lirka Ka / OPEN​

The supercrawler spat death in every direction as it moved. Its flak batteries chattered endlessly, rendering the sky immediately about the vehicle almost uninhabitable. Artillery batteries fired until their barrels glowed. Missile pods eradicated entire squads of troopers or sent armor-piercing barrages sizzling into the distance after faraway vehicles. It was beautiful.

Helix was sometimes left in awe of the potency of his own genius. How the Sith had ever gotten along without him, he couldn't imagine. The nano-colony could scarcely contain his glee, fidgeting uncontrollably in his command chair.

That significant collateral damage was occurring was just part and parcel of war. At this rate, he'd be surprised if there was a planet left to take. Still, he was careful not to dent the factories too much. Even he was not reckless enough to endanger the entire reason they were here, and wind up answering to the Emperor for it.

He'd initially been skeptical, when Darth Malum of House Marr had told the assembled noble personages that the Imperials were coming, but he was beginning to have fun with it. Mindless rule-followers they may have been (at least, in his perception) but they were proactive, he'd give them that.

The little devils were well on their way to snatching the planet out from under his "illustrious" superiors, and he would not be the one left holding the bag if things went sour. While he was, of course, assured of the Sith's "inevitable glorious victory", the more practical part of him idly wondered who he'd blame in the event they lost.

"Sir, Imperator Ka is hailing us from her gunship coms. She sounds, um, happy, sir." Whined one of the droid crewmen, tapping a viewscreen. Delightful, thought Helix. A happy Lirka was equal parts entertaining and exasperating. No doubt he was about to endure a lengthy pontification about the finer points of Ka's religion. He liked the creature a great deal, but she was quite the chatterbox. He supposed he was no better, when it came to topics he was fascinated by.

He'd just have to take his suffering out on the invaders in the meantime, and work on exaggerating his accomplishments as he'd done at Woostri. With any luck, there'd be another gold statue in his honor decorating this planet as well.

"Lieutenant, let's throw the troopers a bone. Keep the aft port battery on cooldown, in case they need it. Never let it be said that Helix isn't a friend of the little man." In truth, the relative inaccuracy of the rad-tainted plasma artillery might very well just vaporize whoever had called in the strike, but as long as they cleared the area, they'd be fine. Maybe. "Keep the rest of our guns focused on making this a very hostile piece of real estate. Shell anything that comes near this sector that fails to clear IFF. I want to be able to brag about the spotlessness of those facilities in my after-action report."

Helix then took a moment to respond to his superior. "I calculate that it's a royal karking mess, Imperator. I am currently engaged near the factories, and I'll be honest, even I barely know what's going on. If you're flying in, you may dock your transport on the Landslide. You'll know it when you see it. And do be careful. Lot of enemy flies in the air today. I'll work on swatting them properly when you arrive."

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The door sealed behind them like the doors of a great, ancient crypt sealing forever. No more signals came from the troopers stationed outside. No acknowledgments. No orders. All that came from the other end of the line with the defenders looming behind them was simple static, and even that silenced. The air inside the Mega Tower turned, the only way to describe the change was that it became wrong. The temperature in the air didn't grow colder, nor did it grow hotter, it was simply heavier. It turned like pressure wrapping around a single lung. Like the entire building was being plunged into the deepest depths of the ocean, like something didn't want them here. Somewhere deep within the tower, something shuddered. Not a tremor. A simple breath. Ash began to fall from the ceiling vents of the structure in a soft and steady wave. It would quickly become clear this was no dust, but burnt flesh. Then came the first sound. Distant. Every crack was like thunder ringing out in a durasteel drum, a slow, rhythmic pattern. It was a beat far too slow for any machine, yet too steady for any barrage of cannons. It rocked through the walls like it was inside them, pressing down into the bones of all who heard the noise.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

The emergency lights flared and blinked to life in deep crimson pulses while sirens wailed overhead. Down the corridor, shadows twisted and stretched across walls, the light receded while shadows invaded to conquer the space left behind by its retreat. Then came the screams. These weren't the battle cries of trained soldiers. They were human, desperate, raw screams of terror. The stormtroopers voices shrieked through the comms, garbled in absolute panic bordering into delirium.

"Contact front, no visual, WHAT IS THAT?!"

"Fall back! Fall, NO! OH FORCE NO!"

"NO EYES ON THE TARGET! HE'S IN-"

That was the last anyone heard from the stalwart defenders outside. A moment later, the entry vestibule behind them ruptured. Not from detonation, but from the air being torn apart. A shockwave of raw power blasted down the hallway like the toll of a funeral bell. Lights shattered in a violent cascade. Metal screamed as it convulsed, tore and shattered in a storm off the walls. Circuitry howled in deep storms of sundered wires and showering sparks. Darkness reigned unchallenged amidst the pandemonium, and through that darkness...He walked. The Dark Lord of the Sith. His towering form was wreathed in shadow, illuminated in the bloodfire glow of his warblade. The giants warplate pulsed with stolen fear, runes blazing like the eyes of a god that had come to judge. In one hand He dragged the massive form of Xûl Qarnak, its abyssal core trailed in bleeding crimson fire, flickering like dying embers as it scraped molten scars into the floor, shrieking with the promise of agony into the open air.

All that was left where the troopers once held was utter destruction. The entry point and surrounding hallway once containing the troopers had become a slaughterhouse. Limbs twited in unnatural ways no body was meant to contort into. Helmets entirely caved in and blood steamed frm cracks in the ferrocrete where flesh had fused through the metal and into the stone beneath the flooring. Even the tower's own defenses turned on themselves, turrets twisted backwards, slicing into walls, security droids folded in prayer like poses, speaking only in looping bursts of sith glyphs that begged for respite. The shadows spurred to life then. They moved, twitched, crawled. The shadow coiled like serpents along the walls and ceiling as they descended over the hallway like a curtain slicing off any view beyond their borders. Meanwhile the corridor before them fractured, floor panels shattered and split apart. Out from the breach came a gout of cerulean fire that hissed with the anger of a viper, licking the walls as if it was trying to claw its way into the known world. Metal surfaces slowly began to bubble and drip in its presence. Through this fire He appeared once more. Death given form.

The Mortarch didn't run. He strode his armor howling, dissonant whispers crawling across the walls in His wake, His presence dragging the very fabric of the darkness behind Him like a blade through flesh. The runes bled a crimson glow all across the walls haunting images appearing in their wake. The massive warblade in His hand trembled with hunger as every screen in the corridor blinked red, and then swiftly turned black. They lit then with a single phrase in glowing Sith script:

HE COMES.

The Dark Lord raised His warblade towards them then. The voice that followed did not come from Him alone. It echoed from the vents. The lights. The stone. "You entered, and now you will never leave for this...is your tomb." A cyclone of azure flame exploded from the tip of the lightsaber as the flames surged towards them in a wave determined to consume them both.

Narantuyaa Asther | Dollshade​