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Arkam Knights | CIS Dominion of Arkam 13

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[ T H E M E ]​

When the giant falls, the vultures dive upon the remains.

One of the sordid realities of Galactic shifts in power were the vacuums left in the wake of collapse. Consider the Galactic Alliance - once the militant arm of the Light. When the forces of Darkness brought the nation to its knees, in but the span of a few short months, numerous entities attempted to encroach upon its remains. The Sith and First Imperial governments partitioned its systems and laid claim to countless worlds. Whilst a fledling Jen'ari Empire took root in the Unknown Regions, salivating at the chance to expand southward.

Similarly...another power fell in the present. One of the very collaborators who had laid waste to the Galactic Alliance had suffered a grievous defeat by the Ssi-Ruuk. Once feared as one of the most capable Imperial warmachines, the First Order's collapse left yet another void in the Galaxy. And straightway, powers began to rise - eager to lay claim to the might left behind. This day, one such remnant looked towards the silent world of Arkam with lust in its eyes. Ancient stories and recent reports confirmed that a boon laid in wait for any hands bold enough to snatch it: an eons old Holorepository which contained intimate details of history spanning as far back as the Galactic Republic.

Asphyxion Ren and his cohort of subordinates would have been foolish to cast a blind eye to this opportunity. With such knowledge in hand, the means to erect the world-shattering powers of Old would be within reach - or so they imagined. But. In this era, the so-called Inquisition which had formed underneath the Master of Ren were perceptive enough to foresee a response. Arkam laid in proximity to the ever-swelling borders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems: a democracy with a severe distaste for all things Imperial. To this day, Asphixion himself considered it a small miracle that the "freedom" drunk nation never crossed blades with the First Order. And, as the full might of their forces were now scattered on the wind, his Inquisition would have to tread very deliberately.

They knew that any presence which so much as seemed Imperial would garner the notice of the southern systems. And, as a result, Asphixion ordered his forces into action. Not into cover. Not into smaller vessels for a False Flag. But into their battlestations. A modest gathering of the armada at his disposal promptly dropped into realspace above Arkam, quickly aligning with the largest population centre their sensors could identify. Not a single demand was given. Nor a single ultimatum. In but an instant, the skies burned with turbolaser fire as the bombardment of Asulon City commenced. Yet this was just the opening salvo - for the cadre of Imperial vessels promptly opened their hangars and unleashed a horde of subcapital ships. Starfighters and Dropships rushed to the surface, intent on burning everything in sight to the ground.

Meanwhile, a single shuttle quietly broke away from the horde and slipped under the veil of stealth. Asphixion's gambit was simple: draw the totality of the Confederacy's attention to the plight of the innocent on the surface below. And, whilst the droids clashed with his subordinates, he would claim his prize: The Wheelworld which hovered in orbit above the burning world. Dubbed Arkam 13, the Station housed the Holorepository that he so desperately craved. Yet, as his shuttle docked, the Master of Ren would soon find that his was not the first vessel to dock upon the ancient structure. A single, Confederate Scimitar yet linked on the northern most dock. He and his men had to move fast in their plan was to bear fruit.

For it was only a matter of time before the full Confederate force arrived.


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The FIV Obstruction and her subordinate vessels have taken up arms against Asulon City below. As the center of Imperial might above the planet, securing space superiority from the enemy is paramount. Break their hold on the skies and cease the bombardment of Asulon below.
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Asulon was once at peace, yet now everything is aflame. Amidst the roar of flametroopers burning their way through the city streets are the cries of the innocent. Here, the priority is preserving as many lives as you can. Evacuate the survivors and cut down the aggressors. Smother the flames which have reduced the peace of Asulon ash.

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Initially, you had arrived as part of an expedition. A simple mission to investigate a Holorepository from the Old Republic era. Yet, as your comm erupts with the battle below, it becomes apparent that the Holorepository cannot be lost to the enemy. Secure the boon of the history...and in doing so, secure the Future.

[member=A'Runda]
[member="Adelle Bastiel"]
[member="Akabane"]
[member="Alden Akaran"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
[member="Alora Fae"]
[member="Alwine Lechner"]
[member="Amarant deWinter"]
[member="Amaya Cardei"]
[member="Amelia von Sorenn"]
[member="Amethyst Atreides"]
[member="Amethyst Sovereign"]
[member="Anya Malvern"]
[member="Arabella Darkhold"]
[member="Ari Zanareth"]
[member="Arlox"]
[member="Aston Jacobs"]
[member="Aya Clarke"]
[member="Azmodan"]
[member="Bandit Six"]
[member="Caesar Kenway"]
[member="Callisa Asran"]
[member="Cardinal Vi'dreya"]
[member="Carith Thelcar"]
[member="Cerria Rene"]
[member="Chikako Liona"]
[member="Cim Salro"]
[member="Corvus Dravere"]
[member="Daisy Americus"]
[member="Damsy Callat"]
[member="Danger Arceneau"]
[member="Daniel Americus"]
[member="Dalton Kenway"]
[member="Darth Tacitus"]
[member="Darth Timorem"]
[member="Darth Novus"]
[member="Daxton Bane"]
[member="Dhakarta"]
[member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Drauchir"]
[member="Ecthelion Aiglos"]
[member="Efried Halbrecht"]
[member="Ella Nova"]
[member="Erin Tenel"]
[member="Evie Miramat"]
[member="Fawn Alzi"]
[member="Gerwald Lechner"]
[member="Gray Venasir"]
[member="Hajrah Marjanah"]
[member="Havoc (CT-375)"]
[member="Ingrid L'lerim"]
[member="Isarn Apis"]
[member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"]
[member="Jade Isara"]
[member="Jayce Pryde"]
[member="Jennifer Blanchard"]
[member="Jorco Czeku"]
[member="Jorge"]
[member="Josh Dragonsflame"]
[member="Jyoti Nooran"]
[member="Kalee Bladesworn"]
[member="Kaptan Americus"]
[member="Karlie Lynn Destat"]
[member="Kasca Fen"]
[member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]
[member="Kayla Wylen"]
[member="Keva"]
[member="Kiff Brayde"]
[member="Kingsley"]
[member="Kip Ridel"]
[member="Krest"]
[member="Krystal Estain"]
[member="Kurayami Bloodborn"]
[member="Kurenai Yumi"]
[member="Kwelin Orlov"]
[member="Kyber"]
[member="Kyrinov"]
[member="Lefwen Claskier"]
[member="Lirka Ka"]
[member="Luna Terrik"]
[member="Luna Vega"]
[member="Lyla Quinn"]
[member="Mallory Bash"]
[member="Maple Harte"]
[member="Marek Starchaser"]
[member="Maur"]
[member="Mauer"]
[member="Minerva Vessia"]
[member="Muad Dib"]
[member="Nine Lives"]
[member="Orion Trex"]
[member="Osintrium"]
[member="Petra Cavataio"]
[member="Pom Stych Tivé"]
[member="Qaarssk Roark"]
[member="Razelle Breuner"]
[member="Riley Reese"]
[member="Roy Americus"]
[member="Rylan Kordel"]
[member="Samantha Jade"]
[member="Scherezade deWinter"]
[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
[member="Sola Marr"]
[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Taramaz Laurs"]
[member="Tex Americus"]
[member="Teyla Ee'everwest"]
[member="Thalira Kiing"]
[member="Tmoxin Temi"]
[member="Traveler"]
[member="Treiades Rhoujen"]
[member="Valencia Hadley"]
[member="Varick Lechner"]
[member="Veronika Fleischer"]
[member="VildarnTentoria"]
[member="Voph"]
[member="Vyra Silara"]
[member="Zhai'ellev"]
 

Ishmael Verd

Guest
I
Location: Arkam 13, South​
Objective: Reach the Holorepository​

To be this close...

If personal comforts were of any relevance, the Master of Ren would have been perfectly satisfied remaining in the Unknown Systems. To be this close, within spitting distance of the Southern Systems, prickled a corner of his mind that had laid silent for decades. The mere thought alone was enough to quicken his heart...and to contort his face with the beginnings of frustration. A quiet storm was beginning to brew under the surface, one born of wrathful nostalgia. Yet, this was but an entrance. A portal through which the Dark Side could flow.

And by all accounts, Asphyxion Ren would need every ounce of cunning and fury if he were to win the day. What he sought was the exposition to his saga of Galactic dominance - and all which stood in his way were the occupants of the Confederate vessel to the north. Their progress into the facility was unknown...yet, perhaps....His boots came to a sudden halt as the gears in his mind turned. In tandem, the ivory-clad squad of Stormtroopers by his side dared not advance any further. They awaited in silence for their master's command.

"Two will find an access point. Get me visual on the enemy."

The baritone of his voice was tainted by the iron helm which obscured his feature. Each syllable took on a metallic edge as they sliced through the air. In response, a duo of Stormtroopers broke away from the pack and jogged ahead, reliant upon their HUDs to scan for a working terminal. Their goal was to take over the surveillance systems aboard - and in doing so provide their liege with a workable advantage over the Confederates. Meanwhile, Asphyxion resumed his advance, slowing only to unhook his saber from his belt.

The crimson fire did not burn into being. Not yet.
 
I am a son of the Mountain.
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Location: Asulon
Objective: Save the innocent, punish the guilty
Tags: Join me!

The armor of the Knight's Obsidian was certainly more than Elessar was used to. It was not restricting, not in a physical way at least. No, this armor restricted his spirit. It weighed him down even though it was quite light for it's class. He'd just have to get over it. The armor was meant to protect him, keep his life from expiring as his niece, [member="Srina Talon"] often reminded him. Still, as his eyes gazed over the azure hexagonal patterns that flashed over him he could not help but wonder just why it was so....colorful. It was far from the pristine robes he wore as a General of Eshan, but it was a requirement of his service. The Scimitar-Class starship broke through the Imperial Fleet with ease, it's cloaking fields keeping it hidden from those who bombarded the city below.

The starship descended upon Asalon carrying Elessar and a troop of the Knight's Obsidian. Those who were in the shuttle were running their last minute checks on their weapons and armor. Elessar watched them, silently from beneath his cowl. A few of them allowed some idle chatter, but most were focused on the task at hand.

Today their goal was not to free their enemies from the strain of life, but to protect those who yet clung to hope. The people of Asalon were undeserving, unprepared, and unequipped to deal with such an onslaught. There was no honor or pride in an attack such as this, nothing to be gained but there would be loss. Elessar shook his head softly, confused as to why these Imperial remnants would seek to sink their teeth into such a people, it made no sense. Still, the time for mulling over the complexities of others stupidity had passed. The Scimitar began to even out, indicating it was preparing to land on the planet's surface.

"It's time." Elessar said, his voice bringing a silence into the shuttle. The others nodded, a few of them pulling their cowls over their helmets and taking hold of their lightsabers. Elessar pulled his lightsaber from his belt, eyeing the silver cylinder with an inquisitive gaze. A lightsaber was new to him, but it was an effective weapon none the less. When the rear ramp to the shuttle finally opened, Elessar watched as the Knights filed out of the ship. He followed them, only for his wintry eyes to narrow at what he saw. His fair skin was a contrast to the darkness that fell over the city. The nighttime sky was flooded with smog and flames, casting a hellish aura over the city. He'd seen it's like before, it was war.

He stepped forward, exiting the shuttle and watching as the members of his team worked to secure the rooftop they had landed on. Elessar breathed in, allowing the Force to wrap itself around him and leave him hidden from the eyes of the Imperials. For now, they would move in silence.
 
Blueberry flavored Sith
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[SIZE=11pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Destroy the Imperials.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Asulon city [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt][member="UBD-028"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She was not unfamiliar to the fires these days.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Jen’ari’s rock had helped her with that, where all those builders were leveled under the crushing iron march of the Legions of the Confederacy’s droid army. Baptism through fire was how she had been introduced to the true CIS, and now it seemed it was where she belonged. Regrettably or not.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She had taken to the ground, her boots clacked across the burning city, Droids and armor formed up around her in a slowly moving wall of death for any who dared stand in their way. Fighting had already began with outlying Imperial forces, the handful of flame troopers had met a grisly end against the wall of metal. One of the B2s swinging a metal arm in an brutal arc before finishing him off with a torrent of bolts. Keva herself leveling her charric and firing a single ringing bolt right between the eyes of the Imperials helmet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Still got it. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]The Chiss thought to herself briefly before turning to the hulking mass of her droid bodyguard. Alas, there was no time for the Chiss to goad over her marksmanship. There was a city to be saved an enemies to be annihilated.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Kaz! We kill Imperials, then save civ!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She was getting better with her basic. Burying herself in a holopad during her free time, studying the necessary words for conversation outside of Cheunh: among other little unimportant things. She was prepared, to say the least, hungry for this conflict even. Keva currently lacked the power she needed to make ample progress in her mission.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The blood of these Imperials was intended to fix that.[/SIZE]
 
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Objective: Secure the Information
Location: Adjacent to the Holorespository
Equipment: Patitite Glaive, Lancelot, Durasteel Armor, Durasteel Saber
Forces: C-S x20, C-T x1


Cay-Yo had arrived within the Scimitar and his mission had been initially very simple. His small contingent of C Series Droids were there less for battle and more for protection of the information that Cay-Yo had deemed valuable to the Confederacy. It was not long till his C-T droid informed him of the battle that had commenced "Wonderful." the Patitite cheered, he was always ready for a good fight.

Cay-Yo stroked his chin pensively, why would they attack now? Perhaps they were not aware of the presence of Cay-Yo and his compatriots being in the area? Who would be so foolish as to attack the Confederacy? He turned to his droids and ordered "Get ready for a fight! Captain, take your droids and secure the entrance." the Patitite sized droids jogged off following the C-T droid. While his droids went to setup a defensive front against the real threat of a strike team Cay-Yo gathered what information he could on a wireless storage device strapped to Lancelot's saddle.
 
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Location: Asulon City [Outskirts - Landing Zone]
Tag: [member="Alkor Centaris"] + [Open]
FZEDA8W.gif
"The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on."

Naedira woke up to alarms blaring, telling her clearly, that they were nearing their destination. The dark-haired woman could scramble into combat readiness in moments, even half asleep, as it were. News of the attack on Arkam spread through the Confederacy like wildfire. Forces had been re-routed from all over, from every sector, and they were currently pointed at the Imperial forces that had cropped up like weeds. Seemingly, truthfully, they sprung out of what seemed to be nothing.

The Knight Obsidian had responded to orders, mission accepted, and was ready to do what needed to be done. Her partner, [member="Alkor Centaris"], really hadn’t been given much of a choice.

The slender woman slid on her armor, piece by piece, over a Terentatek body glove and ensured that her long hair was braided back into a thick rope. Her comm device had already been recalibrated to keep in touch with the higher ups, but other than that, she was good to go. The portal to her quarters opened as she neared it and the olive-skinned warrior paused outside a second set to activate the intercom. Centaris, we’re dropping out of orbit to hit atmo. Prepare for entry.”

It was best to make sure that they were strapped in before it got hairy. Anytime a ship, blunt or not, passed through atmosphere at a rapid clip friction made for some interesting flying. Naedira slid into one of two pilot seats and strapped in appropriately. The autopilot would do most of the work, however, she still liked to keep an eye on the dials and details that ensured the hull wasn’t getting too hot or taking too much abuse.

The only reason they’d managed to get through this mess, unnoticed, was the fact that they’d approached entirely on stealth. It let them rest, recover, and store up the energy they’d need for the ensuing battle. The young woman had a feeling it would be an act of attrition. The enemy had already struck, the people, were already burning. The opposing ground forces would be required to dig in, so they could form a viable defense, or they would die. It was that simple.

The Confederacy would hit hard, fast, and without mercy.

They landed easily enough, in a piece of flat land, just outside of Asulon City. Everything, as far as the eye could see seemed to be burning. The rebreather that had been built into their strike armor would certainly come in handy if the smoke got too thick. When the time came, she stood, and proceeded to arm herself appropriately. She glanced toward her dark-haired companion. “Ready?”

It seemed a silly question. Of course, the former bucket-head was ready. War, was war.
 
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Objective: Recover the Holorepositorys at any cost
Location: Arkam
Tags: [member="Cay-Yo"]
Post:1

The moment she had made land fall upon Arkam Kurenai knew the clock was ticking, such a valuable cash of information and other goodies would not remain uncounted for long knowing full well a many dark side users would not leave such a chance behind. Her prediction only reinforced as the intercom was quickly awash with status reports on the incoming Sith attack on the city of Asulon, nothing out of the ordinary for the Ren, such an order seeming to be made up of crazy fanatics and murderers but with such a valuable prize here it didn't take a 5 star general to know it was a diversion. Guess this meant she had to double time it least the elite strike force headed her way catch up, though confident in her fighting skills the Ren were always known for dirty tricks and Kureani did not want to end up on the receiving end of one of those.

No sooner had she felt the dark presence had a message over the intercom be broadcasted of an unknown vessel being sighted on the opposite of their current location, making the operation more or less a race to the middle. "Stay wary, we have visitors several clicks south of our location, I sense some powerful force users with them we may very well be in for a fight, as such if we do manage to reach the Holorepositorys first well extract them and have a few people act as rear guard to hold off the Ren". "Either that or we may just need to defend them and secure the site, communication and control rooms should be our main focus, either way expect a tough fight ahead, lets move". With a new sens of hast Kurenai did not waste any more time, starting into a brisk job towards the complex in front of them, leading a small group of Knights on her own, though ultimately it was up to the others what they would do first, she held no real rank over them after all.
 
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Location: Arkam, Orbit​
Tag: Open​

Thrice.

Over the course of many decades of life, the Sith known as Darth Metus had breached the veil of Life and Death. When first his mortal form entered the Netherworld beyond, he was not alone. Untold billions of lives were cast into the Blood Wastes by the monstrous Akala during her final rampage across the stars. It was pure fortune, then, that the Sith was able to escape the everlasting downpour of blood; for a tears existed in the fabric of that Hell which enabled a vast minority to escape. When next Darth Metus would encounter the ravenous depths of the Netherworld, it would not be as an intruder who had been unwillingly banished to the realm of blood. But rather, he would come as a resident. When Mandalore itself was attacked and made to erupt upon itself, the explosions of lava and ash claimed countless victims.

Amongst them was Darth Metus, who literally boiled alive within his armor. When the agony finally ceased, the Sith found himself yet again subject to the torrential downpour of crimson water. Yet this time, there was no "easy" route of escape. This time, strength alone enabled him to cheat death and claw his way to the world of the living. Twice had the Sith been unwillingly cast into the realm of death - but the third? The third he willingly gave it all. There was not a moment's hesitation when the explosion rocked Kuat. He had only just tasked his daughter, [member="Allya Vi'Dreya"], to venture to the planet below his Destroyer in order to protect his beloved apprentice from all harm. Yet, before the young Mandalorian could even get through the planet's atmosphere, devastation erupted beside [member="Srina Talon"].

An explosion leveled the building she stood within and buried her under a mountain of rubble. The crushing weight of the structure, coupled with the fury of the blast itself, made short work of the Echani woman. And only seconds stood between her and the jaws of death. Yet. She was one of the few who had managed to make the Sith see beyond his ambitions. She, who had been tied to his very soul, had become such an integral and vital part of his existence that feeling her life slipping away drove him to the extreme. He clung fast to their bond - to that ethereal, Forceborn river which always flowed between them - and poured everything he had into his Apprentice. Every shred of might drained from the Sith Lord and flooded into the broken form of the Echani.

And as she gasped, now freed from the jaws of death, Darth Metus took her place. His body ran cold. His breath became hollow. And in but mere seconds, his head lowered as if to accept his fate. He could feel his heart slowing to a crawl. And darkness began to cling upon thr edge of his vision. Ultimately...when he closed his eyes...he could hear the rainfall of blood calling to him. And when he finally surrendered, he found that quite a different reality awaited him. There were no pearly gates, mind, but rather an anomaly which had claimed the blood soaked afterlife he had come to expect. Instead of finding a sky weeping tears of blood, he found that the precipitation had stopped. Had...stood. Suspended in the heavens as if caught by unseen hands. It was strange to say the very least, but what bothered the Sith more than anything was the feeling that he was being watched.

Beyond that...Darth Metus could not honestly remember. What he did know was that the Blood Wastes concluded just as quickly as they began - for he awoke by a ragged gasp filling his lungs and a terrified Allya standing before him. From thenceforth, it was hard to put the experience behind him, for the Srina he had saved was not the woman before the explosion. She had been broken. And where the cracks in her soul were, the Dark Side slithered forth to fill them with its presence. The two did not have so much as an hour together to acknowledge what all had transpired on Kuat. And, frankly, Darth Metus was simply happy to know that he had succeeded in making sure Srina Talon lived another day.

As time moved ever forward, so too did the machinations of those also touched by the Darkness. Whilst the Sith yet licked his "wounds, rampant ambition took form in the shape of a burning Arkam city. The remnants of the First Imperial government which had formerly been only a stone's throw away had selected this world to be the target of annihilation. And annihilate, they did. Their Armada unleashed a bombardment which set the capital flame - and the world's sole hope was a rapid response from the Confederacy. Thus, just as the distress calls began to flood the Confederate channels yet again, reversion occurred on the part of the Vicelord's personal vessel. There would be time aplenty to reflect upon the hows and the whys later on...but for now, Arkam called for aide.

The Confederacy answered.
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIrdXufDTiw


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Objective: Figure out the Disturbance in the holorepository
Location: Wheel World, holo-repository
Equipment: Lightsaber, beskar'gam, mandalorian vambraces, Pair of Starbird blasters, Fragmentation Grenades, EMP Grenades, Flash-bang grenades.



Dragons123.png



She had come to the holo-repository along with the Knights Obsidian, to comb through the massive amount of data. It was a beautiful place, and she had already copied hundreds of records and had them sent to the Unyielding Faith. Much of it had been on the history of the Jedi order from the old republic, long before the Galactic Empire, before the fall of the Jedi, before the Plague. So much of the information had gone untouched, and she wanted to give Jerek and the Silver Jedi Order presents. Mostly Jerek, if she was being honest. He always rewarded her in the most delightful of ways.

Armored fingers touched a specific data storage device and took it over to the copy and transfer device. It would send out the package to the Unyielding Faith before returning it. Again, another mention of Lettow. One day, she would figure out where this world was. One day. Teenage mind quickly turned back to the task at hand. More records. However, her comms blew up, as the pilot of the Scimitar the small group had come in on explained all about the sudden influx of ships and the turbolasers opening up on the surface. Allya's eyes went wide, and she quickly moved to the main repository terminal. Along side the Librarians in the halls, she pulled the repositories down, and locked down as much as she could. Even if the station was destroyed, the armored pods for the knowledge had a better chance of staying intact.

After, she turned her suit up to full power. Sensors activated, comms raged to life, and everything came online. One hand grabbed her lightsaber, the other one of her blasters. She had no clue if the station was a target or not. However, she also didn't know how many people onboard were aware of the attack. Her comms burst to life. “Team, we have capital ships bombarding the planet. What looks to be a full scale invasion. Be on the look out. If we can we need to contact as many Confederate forces as we can!”

Allya paced back and forth. Service doors were locked, the main doors were the most efficient way to get inside the holo-repository. But she was still unsure if anyone was even coming for them. Or if they would simply blast the station sky high. So many possibilities, it was hard to narrow down which one it would be like she had on Kuat. Her sensors scanned everything she could, and she cursed herself for not bringing her troops and droids along. However, she sent out a message and location status to [member="Luna Terrik"] informing her of their status, and situation. She knew Dauntless Forces were not far away, she hoped they could get to the planet in time. For now, she waited, guarding the repository.
 
Arkam1.png
[x]
Objective: Establish Space Superiority, Destroy the FIV Obstruction
Location: High Orbit, Arkam
Tags: [member='Darth Metus']
Forces
Lucrehulk II-Class Battleship
Vulture II Droid Fighter x624




Assigned to his first mission to be on standby should Confederate forces be in need of reinforcement the newly christened Deleterious awaited for the call. At last it had finally come, a rogue First Order ship had entered the orbit of a planet that confederate forces had been operating on, and opened fire on the the surface below "Set course for Arkam." his cold voice commanded of his pilot droids. The cyborg sat down slowly in the commander's chair, his eyes transfixed forward with deadly determination. The bridge of his Lucrehulk was busy with operation of the large vessel, however it was extraordinarily orderly. The ship's hyperdrive engaged and moved the battleship into high orbit over Akram. Now Deleterious could see his adversary "Scramble the Vultures, target the Star Destroyer's fighters. Turbolasers on their bow. Destroy them." his orders were given in precisely measured tones.

The dual hangars of the Lucrehulk roared to life as the Vulture II droid fighters sped out from the ring hull like angry bees in a large hive.The Vulture II's were quick in space and began to engage the Obstruction's sub-capitals. Meanwhile the vast quantities of Turbolasers from the Lucrehulk began sustained fire in the direction of the Obstruction's fore. Deleterious stood and walked forward towards the viewing screen of the bridge, arms behind his back "Let you be the first to feel the wrath of the Vicelord's new era. Your time has passed, the will of the Confederacy is eternal and so shall be his domain." Long had Deleterious waited for this, he would not be denied this battle nor his victory. He turned his back on the screen and strode to the commander's chair.

Vulture droids and Imperial fighters clashed in earnest as the battle for superiority had begun. The emotionless tenacity of the Vulture droids collided with the First Order renegade pilots' experience. One was born to fight the other fought to live. Fighter wreckage impacted otherwise pristine starfighters. Some even entering low orbit and falling to the surface in flames to the city below.
 
Arkam1.png
LOCATION: Arkham, Orbit
FLAGSHIP: CNS Victator
TAGS: [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Deleterious"]

If he was being completely honest, the repeated line of some rogue Empire laying waste to a planet and the Confederacy coming into save them was becoming almost boring to Kiff Brayde, newly instated High Marshal of the Miranda Armada. It was as if any government outside of the Confederacy only wished to see their world burn, and for no good cause. If it was a means for subjugation, then the tragedy would only cement the reigning government as the enemy in the eyes of the people. If it was reprisal, then it would only incite further rebellion. And if it was out of pure spite, or some means of a demonstration, then it was a waste of lives and resources. It was unfortunate that most leaders seemed unable to concept this grasp, yet here the Confederacy was once again, playing the hero as usual.

For this operation, Kiff had decided not to bring his full armada, not even a fleet. He knew he wasn't the only element in play here -- the Vicelord himself was present, and bringing too many ships to the battle would be overkill. Not to mention that the Miranda sector was the most coreward, and technically the first line of defense for any invasion coming from the New Republic, not to mention any other greedy core factions. Upon taking command, Kiff had decided to ultimately implement a defensive strategy, dedicating most of the armada's firepower to the Miranda sector itself. Along those lines, Kiff had only brought the 186th Battle Line, crowning it with his flagship, the Victator.

Despite his rather smaller fleet size, one thing that made Kiff stand out from his peers was his impulsiveness; his willingness to charge into battle, even to do things that could cost his military career, because he knew that it was probably the best thing to do. Whether or not it actually was would be a matter left up to debate, but it hadn't killed the HIgh Marshal thus yet, so it worked. The 186th erupted from hyperspace in all of its glory, durasteel plating reflecting the light from Arkham's distance star. The objective was clear -- destroy the flagship of the First Order fleet, and ensure that all vessels sympathetic to the First Order's drive of destruction meet the same fiery fate.

He was rather surprised when scan-comm announced that there was already a CNS ship in the atmosphere, and that surprise doubled when they confirmed it was a single ship. Kiff thought that his methods were unorthodox, but by any means charging a fleet with only one ship, no matter what size or firepower, was considered in naval terms to be suicide. As the scan crew focused on the vessel, they revealed it to be a Lucrehulk-class supercarrier, one that could hold hundreds of fighters in its hangar bay. That, at the very least, was reassuring that the lone ship wouldn't be eliminated immediately, but the decision had to be made to move in the 186th to support the Lucrehulks advances.

"Get me a ping with that Lucrehulk, Commander," Kiff said to one of his aids as he began assessing the situation, deliberating the best course of action. "Whoever it is, they have guts, I'll give them that. Move our Star Destroyers in to support the Lucrehulk, while the CNS Retribution and Doppelganger clear a path for our Diamond Mk II Cruisers and Sigma-class Heavy Assault Dropships to reach the capital city. Meanwhile, set course for the Victator and Windbreak on a direct engagement line at the FIV Obstruction. Let's end this quickly."
 
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Objective: Cleanse the Invaders​
Location: Asulon City​
Tags: [member="Elessar Talon"] + Open​
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Throughout his lifetime, Zorok never expected to be faced with what could be described as true warfare between two giants. Through his first 28 years, he sat on a rock of a planet and only cut through the beasts of the land as a means of displaying power and to stay alive. Through outside sources, he's heard of conflict between superpowers of the galaxy but besides from witnessing certain events on the HoloNet, nothing has ever been right in front of them. He never could have imagined the death and destruction that could be triggered by the greed and desire. The Imperial remnants wished to subjugate a neutral people in an effort to flail like a dying beast in the ever-so-fruitless hope that they could maintain their power from before.

The Confederacy of Independent Systems has already played its role in aiding the needy, as its whole philosophy has revolved around in its existence. Some have chosen to band together in the name of freedom, prosperity, and Independence. The words surrounding the Confederacy's foundation rung in his head as he moved around the periled city. Without joining together with your neighbors to ensure the protection of your own welfare, then it truly isn't possible to save yourself.

Asulon City appeared to be shrouded in geared soldiers, some armed with flamethrowers and others with just plain blasters. This wasn't just a typical invasion, this was meant to be a slaughter. A slaughter that seemingly held no purpose except for the intimidation and the act of making a statement that they were still present in the galaxy. The fools in their bloodthirsty state refused to find their shame in knowing that they could never match up with the might of the Confederacy and their organized forces. Zorok clutched his vibroblade, assuring himself that his presence there was for the purpose of fighting about injustice and not to satisfy his own cravings.

At least, that's what he told himself as he cleaved through the body of a petrified Imperial.

He initially landed directly in the heated landing zone of Azulon City with a group of rescuers, with the main goal of aiding in the clearing of the city of hostile forces or at least forcing a retreat. Through the pandemonium and pure havoc of the assault that left the city burning and buildings collapsing in on themselves, he was separated from his landing group and found himself attempting to clean up streetways himself. As much as he wanted to believe that he was capable of going alone throughout the evacuation, he knew that it was a necessity to meet up with fights of the Confederacy again to maintain manpower.

As if on cue, a Confederacy starship clunked down on a nearby rooftop, a soldiers stormed out to secure it. The Imperial presence was dimmed down in that area, and Zorok used that opportunity to sneak through the debris and the downed building. If he ran into a foe, one swing of his blade was all that seemed to be needed to incapacitate. As much as he desired to finish the job, rendezvousing was easily the larger requirement. He found a path to the rooftop, immediately putting up his hands and deactivated his vibrosword before putting it away to assure that they were on the same side. Most, if not all of them were in possession of lightsabers and he knew from learning about the Confederacy that this was the Knight's Obsidian, a group that even he was close to being indoctrinated into. He approached the leaderly-looking type of the force and reclutched his blade. "Let me join your ranks in this mission. These raiders won't know what hit them until they're halfway passed out."
 
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Location: Arkam Orbit, Zero Hour​
Objective: Swiggity Swooty (He comin fo dat booty.)​
Tags: [member="Kiff Brayde"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Deleterious"]​
[youtube]https://youtu.be/pHt0tRnnPBc[/youtube]​
Voph stood aboard the bridge of the Vanguard, designated flagship of this operation. The Adamant was nearby, having rallied at Thyferra. Word had reached Voph that a planet was under attack. The Confederacy was already moving to assist. And so it was with the utmost urgency that the Vanguard and Adamant were summoned. Their tenure in the remnants of the First Order had been quiet enough, save for a few skirmishes here and there. But this...This was the first real battle that had been offered them. Word was reaching Voph that the Obstruction, one of the First Order Remnant's battlecruisers was in orbit over the planet. On the one hand, Voph relished the idea of battle with a worthy opponent. On the other, he never knew the luxury of toying with one's enemy. Victories were to be swift and decisive, lest they cease being victories.

"Helm, make ready for hyperspace jump."

"Acknowledged Sir, Standing By."

Voph made an idle gesture, signaling the jump. The Vanguard's group lept into that blue abyss, closely followed by the Adamant. "All Hands to battle stations. Flight crews, prepare to launch as soon as we exit hyperspace. Swarm Protocol, hold nothing back. Archwings, find your targets, but await my signal to open fire."

The first thing to appear on the Obstruction's sensors was a small cruiser, no more than 200 Meters long. A channel was opened. "Attention First Order Remnant: We speak on behalf of Fleet Marshal Voph. Surrender now, and you will be shown mercy. This is your first, and final, warning." It seemed absurd, a cruiser of that size, alone with no fighter escort, to demand surrender. But as the Aquila slid through the starry expanse, the atmosphere began to change. Fighters screamed towards a target that they could no longer see. Interference on their scopes. "They took the bait, my Lord. Control established."

And suddenly, the viewscreens of the First Order were filled with the arrival of the Octarchy Covenant. The Vanguard and Adamant flew side by side, fighters beginning to stream from their holds towards the Obstruction. Voph stood with his hands clasped at the small of his back, surveying the scene. He smiled. He could feel the presence of his apprentice in the system already. Even before her broadcast.

"Sit tight, Adjudant. We'll have these whelps running for their mothers in no time. Archwings, on my mark...."

The space around Arkam illuminated as the forefront Archwing Destroyer began charging the main gun. Another, and another, until a whole row of ten gleaming points was formed, pushing forward to maintain a position at the front of the combined battlegroup. "Fire!"

Green beams of energy surged forward, as the Archwings unleashed the full fury of their main cannons. Beam after beam after beam was thrown full tilt into the shields of the Obstruction. No mercy, No respite. In mere moments, the full contengent of Star Fighters would clash with the host of TIE fighters. The Octarchy was out for blood.

Fleet Actions:
  • Aquila ECM Corvette is jamming First Order Sensors, and providing IFF tags for all relevant ships, marking First Order Ships for easy acquisition.
  • Vanguard and Adamant Carriers are launching all Octarch, Mynock, and Archon class fighters, totaling roughly 20, 20 and 10 squadrons respectively
  • Archwing Destroyers are firing a concentrated volley of XR-01 blasts at the Obstruction, with intent to test shield strength and if possible, disrupt shields.
 
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Location: Asulon, City Center
Wearing: Armor| Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: (in the area) [member="Elessar Talon"] | (in the area) [member="Zorok Rane"] | +Feel free to join!


Dies irae, Dies illa, Solvent saeclum in favilla, Quantas tremor est futurus, Quando Judex est venturus.

Scherezade stood at the center of Asulon City, her eyes closed as the overly hot breeze swept over her features. The fires raced and raged around her, washing the city in an orange hue that was both beautiful and deadly, inviting those who were not strong enough to be consumed by the flames. People were screaming. People were running. The smell of the blood was sharp in her nose, the blood of so many, almost strong enough to take the rest of her senses over. Focus was a challenge in her present situation, but she could do it. She could do it, despite the sounds of screaming sounding almost like music to her ears.

Glowing green eyes opened to look at the devastation that was increasing around her. Focus. Her mission was simple; save lives. But there were more ways to save lives than babysitting people into escape pods. Slowly, she pulled Copero's Wail and her Knight Obsidian Sword were removed from their sheaths, one sword into each arm. Her dozen knives still nestled against her body, securely in place. She would call on them when the need arrived.

It was easy to separate the enemies from the people. The people were running. Their enemies were putting chase. In her armor, there was little that said Confederacy about Scherezade's external appearance, and yet she remained a walking armory, inviting those who thought they could best her to come near. They did not. Within a few strides, she placed herself between a group of running civilians and a group of those who wished them harm, both her blades twirling in her hands for a moment before she charged forward.

Moments later, nothing remained of them but missing body parts and rolling heads, and the blood was singing.
 
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Location: LZ, Asulon
Tag: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]


When the escalation came, they mobilized. It marked the first time that he had been activated for a hostile situation since joining the Knights Obsidian, but it never felt different. He'd lived a hundred lifetimes now, as a soldier, as a killer, as Warmaster- you could change the labels, but the experiences rarely changed. Except now, instead of simply eliminating hostiles they also had to protect civilians. 'The bulwark between the common folk and those who would do them harm.'

He sat quietly in ship, eyes closed and mind someplace far away. Since his strange experience on M'haeli, Alkor had been more reserved. He holed himself away, training at specified times and eating at dinner call; but the majority of his free time was spent sequestered away. Something struck a nerve in him, and even now he struggled to unravel the mystery within his own mind.

When Naedira called to him, his eyes were slow to open. Was he ready? He had always assumed so. He had always been told to always be ready. Had anything truly changed?

No. His resolve was no different. Only his perspective had changed.

His time among Shock Troopers taught him to stand and grab hold of something. Orbital re-entry was an ordeal that churned the insides and summoned up undigested leavings. He could feel the bile turning over in his gullet at the very thought, and he exhaled slowly to shake off some of his discomfort.

Clad in his Obsidian Strike armor, Alkor carried a sidearm and his lightsaber, each on either of his hips. Their job was less warfare today and more asset retrieval. Their goal was to secure the citizenry, and to eliminate anyone who got in the way of that goal. At least, that was how he had come to understand their directive. He pulled the hood over his head and the array that obscured his face slid into place. The HUD blossomed to life before his eyes, a magnificent layout of the interior of the ship lit up like a Life Day tree.

His world shook for what seemed like eternity, then came to an abrupt halt.

When she spoke directly to him, he had a proper answer for her question. "Ready," he replied. How could he be anything but?

He stepped out into the hellfire that was Asulon City, wreathed in smoke and surrounded on all sides by a constant stream of blaster fire. The pistol, then.

Alkor took hold of the small blaster, held it low, and took the opportunity to gauge their surroundings. "You want to take point?" he offered. She was the talkative one, after all.
 
Location: Far, far away.
Tag: [member="Kaden Farr"], [member="Darth Metus"]
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Awoken.

She stirred from her slumber with a restless, albeit airy, sigh. The darkness was complete in the world she inhabited but her eyes had adjusted long ago. Her torpor had been disturbed on more than one occasion. The first time, revolved around the ascendancy of her son, her beloved child, [member="Kaden Farr"]. Her breath fluttered in vague annoyance. She was pleased that he had found his way, his vengeance, and had returned to the living to dispel the nature of his death. The fact that some mortal witch had broken him…It disturbed her. He would rectify that.

No offspring of hers would be accused of dying of something so pitiful as a broken heart. No, never.

Her own release from the Netherworld would be delayed. What had been her choice, had eventually become her prison, because she had no desire to leave. This was her castle, her throne, her domain. She could see the galaxy as it changed, influence little darklings, and bring about the anarchy and torment which fed her being. Negative energy, chaos, and destruction kept her whole. It was sustenance. Death, in exchange, for the continuation of her life.

To restore her Kaden, to return him, she sacrificed some of the power she had long since cultivated in the suffering of others. She would see that her boy had everything he wanted. No matter the cost. In exchange, he would pave the way for her arrival, and had even, been given the task of choosing a more human name for her assimilation. Whereas he called her Mother, the rest of the living would know her as Selene. Darth Elyria.

The raven-haired woman, touched with snowy skin, and a wrathful disposition thought herself beyond such things. Names. Worldly possessions. No longer. Now, she would return.

She only needed to rest. Just a little more. Someone new had interrupted her reverie. He had walked the halls of her world before. She could smell it on his soul like a fragrance. Sickeningly sweet, though, with rot behind it. Something that had long since died. Isley. [member="Darth Metus"]. The Mother of All Darkness laughed, before sneering at his misfortune, at his petulant insistence to save that which was unworthy.

He would see her eyes in the dark. Feel her intent crawl up his spine. Eternal, damnation.

“Get out.”

The Sith Lord would find himself rejected from her world just as easily as he had entered it. He hadn’t quite crossed the threshold of the beyond, but, he’d been dangerously close. If she hadn’t of sent him back it would have been much more difficult to maintain the quiet among the wails of the lost souls that dotted her realm. They were always so unsettled when a new power arrived.

Nevertheless, she let her mind wander. It was a powerful thing. As it pulled through the vast empty, her body relaxed, and she crossed through the Mist-Beyond, crossed the stars, and found her new plaything. They were all puppets, in the end. Squalling, useless, bags of flesh and bone.

The cries of the newly dead pulled her toward a world known as Arkam. She lifted the name from the mind of the man she had recently evicted. He was so easy to infect. Easy to read. Perhaps, he had brought some of her essence back with him? ‘Little Isley…’

‘What do you have here? A banquet of dead.’

She circled him, a dark shadow, that none would be able to see. Her words echoed in the mind of this Vicelord, filled with snide, sarcastic intent. The agony of those that perished in flame, in fear and despair, would sustain her. She picked up a flash of a white-haired woman. ‘Pathetic.’

‘You would die for that? Barely a woman. A wisp of a girl.’

Invisible fangs bared themselves.

‘Kill her. Remove your weakness.’

Invisible talons would piece his heart.

‘Kill her.’
 
Location: Asulon City [Outskirts - Venturing Into the City]
Tag: [member="Alkor Centaris"]​
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"The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on."

Naedira moved toward the armory shelf that kept her weapons secured within the ship. She kept a sidearm in the stand near her bed, but otherwise, the rest of her gear remained stowed. It helped to keep items like that locked up. It wasn’t a regulation requirement, but it ensured that she never had to scramble for anything, and she never had to wonder. It was always exactly as she’d left it.

She didn’t usually carry a lightsaber. Most Knights thought it strange. Instead, a long sword ran down the length of her spine, one that could break into a bilari electro-chain whip. Beyond that she carried twin Hybrid Pistols with plenty of additional ammunition. It could fire blaster bolts, it could fire slugs, and the switch was instantaneous. Perfect for dealing with unknown assailants.

Her Strike Armor was the typical staple of a Knight Obsidian. Some altered the hexagonal pattern to a new color, but Naedira, preferred it as it had arrived. Orange. The color of fire, life, and a dozen other things that she often enjoyed. Part of her was still shocked to the core that the default pattern wasn’t some varying shade or hue of purple.

If the Feds loved anything more than droids—it was the color purple.

When the time came, she followed Centaris out of the Scimitar and walked down the low ramp with ease. She took a few clean breaths to get used to the native air, but, it wouldn’t much matter. It tasted of little more than ash. Smoke. “Roger roger.”, she responded to the taller man without looking, though, it wasn’t a sign of disrespect. Nor irritation.

When it came time to fight Naedira seemed to fall into a mode that was very austere. She tried to lighten the atmosphere when she could, but she became very focused on her work. The mission was all that mattered. She liked working with Centaris, even if, he didn’t think too much of her. He was easy to figure out and she didn’t have to worry about him flaking at the first sound of gunfire.

“I just hope that the CDF can get control in space. Soon. If the Imps release another volley at the surface, we’re all in trouble.”

Naedira didn’t reach for her weapons yet, but scanned the area as she moved, searching for hostiles. A small train of Magnaguard followed the pair, waking from folded stasis as they left the ship. The units were mostly there to aid in civilian extraction. If they couldn’t get to people that were trapped, and or cornered, the droids could. Smoke inhalation wouldn’t bother them any.

Her eyes lowered to the horizon. For the love of—Everything was on fire. Even the sky seemed to reflect an entirely different color than what it should be. Naedira fiddled with her comm as she walked, keeping low, but not so low that she sacrificed too much speed. Eventually, she found a local channel and began to broadcast that the Confederacy had come. Come to aid them, wipe out the Imperials, and clear their skies. It was a message on loop with a limited range but it would help ease the locals.

The last thing they wanted to do was accidentally take out an overly aggressive or frightened civilian.

Sensors in her mask picked up something to the right, further up the road, and she raised her hand to gesture in that direction. It was hard to read things on thermals but if she wasn’t mistaken they’d already spotted some of their quarries.Centaris and Darcrath approaching potential hostiles at the following coordinates. Proceeding with caution.”, she transmitted to some of the other Knight Obsidian groups, such as those led by [member="Elessar Talon"] or [member="Scherezade deWinter"].

They were further away, toward the city center, but it was still important to keep contact.

Naedira rounded the corner slowly, carefully, and her suspicions were confirmed. A group of flame troopers were lighting up everything they could see. Homes, businesses, it didn’t matter to them. “Animals.”, she grumbled, mostly to herself, but Centaris probably picked it up. There was something about Empires, or the every-day Imperials, that seemed to make them think they could do anything they wanted. It was revolting.

She reached for her hip and grabbed her pistol. They hadn’t found the real gunfight, yet, but these hotheads were as much to blame as anything else. They could turn a situation from bad to worse in a hurry. Nodding to Centaris, she took aim, but not at the body of one of the soldiers. No, instead, she aimed for one of their canisters that contained the fuel for their weapons. “Ten.”

A squad of ten. The landscape seemed perfect for this. Dry, flammable. Naedira almost regretted trying to take them out this way. But the alternative was worse. If they threw a wall of flame at herself or Centaris the damage would be even more unfavorable.

“Bottom left roaster. Near the flower beds.”, she announced her target, before taking aim, and then got into position. She had worked alongside this Knight for quite some time now. They’d trained, learned, and she had every faith that he would be able to follow her lead in this. “Fire.”

Her sights set on rupturing and igniting the pressurized fuel tank she was aiming at…She did exactly that.
 
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Location: Asulon City, Outskirts
Tags: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

Her firing trajectory appeared in his HUD and clarified her intent before he ever had to ask. The quick shot aimed for highly volatile targets made its mark, and the resulting conflagration lit up the entire plaza. He knew better than to chide the woman for her hastily made decision, because she had done it to keep the heat off of them. Still, a precursory glance at their surroundings would have told an unsavory tale, and might have stayed her hand.

The flames licked at the already deteriorating buildings and dragged their charred flames down toward hell. Alkor watched as ashen plumes of smoke roiled skyward. Hot and dry, the stale wind caused his eyes to water. He followed her shot with one of his own, consuming another chunk of the enemies in their own hellfire.

The resulting blaze made the immediate area that much more difficult to navigate. "We're cut off from the downtown area," he reported as his HUD skimmed the topography and matched it against live orbital scans of the city. "We might be able to double back if we hurry, but we haven't accounted for the civilians in this direction yet."

Time was not on their side.

"Your call, Knight Darcrath," he urged her, "back, or forward?" Unlike his partner, Alkor did not look at the Imperials with disgust. Rather, as he stepped over their corpses he saw saw livestock- the kind that Republics, Empires, and even Confederacies bred for war and chewed up before promptly spitting them into shallow graves. Stormtrooper or Confederate Footman, it made little difference. They were all victims in the game called War.

A loose rafter from one of the dilapidated homes fell where the Flame Troopers had been playing their villainous trade, and out from the flames a lone survivor hobbled out, his armor melted in some places, still burning in others. He lifted his weapon, and Alkor did the same.

One shot to the head. The Flame Trooper fell over dead, spasming in the street. Alkor lowered his weapon.
 
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Location: Arkam, Orbit​
Tag: [member="Voph"], [member="Kiff Brayde"], [member="Deleterious"], [member="Darth Elyria"]​


Fog.

Whenever the Sith attempted to spare a thought to his recent moments beyond the veil, his mind felt thick. Heavy. As if the thoughts had been stolen away by unseen hands and replaced by an ocean of nothing. In of itself, this was concerning - but Darth Metus did not have the luxury of spending too much time discerning the nature of this sordid reality. His forces, consisting of The Dread Queen and a handful of escort destroyers, had entered into the orbit of Arkam. Straightaway, the communications officer did as she was bidden and opened a line of contact between Vicelord's envoy of devastation and his Marshals. They would find their liege seated upon his command throne, garbed in the same crimson armor had had donned on Eshan and Kuat.

"High Marshal Voph." he began. "I am ceding command of my escort to you. All of you, see to it that the Queen is given ample time to prepare and be ready to mop up the remains." His fist then pounded upon his chest plate once as a salute to his warriors. With his orders given, the Sith lulled his eyes to a close behind his helm. He delved within, into the wellspring of negative forces within his mind. Darth Metus did not have to search far for fuel when it came to his sorceries. He did not have to trek deep into the past and cling fast to sources of agony or angst to muster the power to feed the Phobis Devices. There was always that one place which served as more than enough offering to wake the slumbering beast.

The memory of his tongue boiling within his mouth on the day Mandalore burned.

Simply recalling the unrelenting flow of molten liquid cooking him alive was enough that the Dark Side fell mightily upon his shoulders. And perhaps that was how she found him so easily. Perhaps using his own demise as fuel made him stand out like a beacon amidst all the death and devastation erupting on the planet's surface. When Darth Metus began to concentrate, the presence which erupted into being was far different than what he had come to know. The Shadow that was now evident was the furthest thing from his ally. It was a cold, brutal thing. To be in its proximity was to know the quiet sting of winter upon one's flesh. And, it spoke. Clear words invaded the Sith's mind, bypassing his meticulously maintained defenses with ease.

Darth Metus' eyes snapped open as surprise filled him. And it all began to flow back into his mind. The muted memories...the banishment from the Netherworld. This woman...no...this thing had been responsible. Yet his being alive today was no act of benevolence on her part. No. It was the removal of a threat. Ever so slightly, his sulfuric gaze narrowed as the feminine wraith manifested before him. She was a spectre - something whose presence illicited not even the faintest recognition from those others upon the Bridge. She wasted no time in flaunting her "supremacy." Her tongue coiled with a quiet venom as she addressed him as Little Isley. And soon, the icy "fingers" of her invasion into his mind snatched a glimpse of what mattered most to the Sith. The one he gladly gave it all away for.

Pathetic.

He had thought as much many times before, hadn't he? How miserable and weak was he that some unseen god could shackle a child to his life? Worse still, one that chose a Jedi. One that was blind to his wants. One that held him back. How long had it been since he had cut loose. How long since he had picked up a hammer and pushed the Dark Side to its very limits? How-

The rampage of thoughts ceased by the clenching of his teeth. The Witch before him was the culprit, he knew this. And confirmation came when she demanded that he extinguish the one he had come to care for so much. Now...it felt as if frigid fangs had joined in the assault upon his flesh, sinking into every part of him. To simply exist was agony. And when she spoke again, his heart sputtered within his chest - as if impaled by a column of ice. For an instant his eyes widened as the Witch made her desires clear. The pain. The manipulation. She was making him her plaything. His fingers tightened upon the arms of his throne. He was no mere plaything of the Gods. He would not suffer to be twisted and thrown about - not by Akala, not by Kad Ha'rangir, and certainly not this wretch from beyond the veil.

Heat came amidst a chorus of screams. The spectre before the Sith would find a discordant melody invading her ears, one born of the roiling mass within Darth Metus' stomach. That chunk of the Manda that he had consumed so long ago had ignited. The pyre of his wrath used the suffering of the honored dead as fuel to burn away the winter of her presence. The sting evaporated in an instant, and the Sith raised his dominant hand. My name is Darth Metus. he thoughts were projected directly at the one who dared to inspire him to smite what belonged to him. As I breathe, no harm will befall what is Mine. Begone. His hand moved, as if dismissing a fly from his presence.

And coupled with that motion, the witch would find herself subject to the very same fate as the damned wolf Mirvak. Darth Metus attempted to cast the witch out and back into the Netherworld from whence she came.
 
I am a son of the Mountain.
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Location: Asulon
Objective: Ambush
Tags: [member="Zorok Rane"]


Contact!”

Elessar heard the warning, yet he felt the presence approaching far before it had revealed itself from the shadows. As the Echani spun around to meet the newcomer his hair flew in the darkness, thin silver strands wisping about in the ashen darkness. With an abrupt snap-hiss the brilliant blue blade came to life in his hands. It gave off a faint hum as Elessar leveled his eyes against the creature before him. He'd never seen it's like before. With thick, leather-like skin and a monstrous maw, it was surely the thing of some depraved child's nightmares. However, it was mortal, of this world. Elessar looked at what the other Knight's would not. The beast's shoulders, so relaxed yet prepared for the worst of outcomes. His neck was on a swivel of caution, not aggression. His body language was all wrong to be an enemy, it was nothing compared to what it could be. He was fearsome and he was their ally.

Stop.” The blue blade in the Warrior's hand was extinguished as Elessar approached the Dashade. “He's an ally of ours.” The Knight presented, no sooner than the alien revealed it was his intention to join the party of Knights. Elessar glanced around, before his right hand formed two of his slender fingers together for him to gesture away from them with. A mute gesture, a suggestion to the others that they form teams of two for the remainder of the mission. “We're moving out in teams of two. If you're here to help, follow me. We need to move quickly.” He assured the Dashade.

Elessar passed by [member="Zorok Rane"], keeping his lightsaber tightly clenched in his hands as he did. He soon disappeared into the same entrance the Dashade had used to approach the Knight's. It seemed the building they had landed on was some form of housing unit, long since abandoned. Elessar and his new companion would descend unopposed. In this time Elessar said nothing, no his mind was kept busy with the wonder of just how best they could navigate civilians to this point. The ship they had taken here would work well as a Fleet Runner, ferrying people away from this war torn world. Elessar was considering this when he stepped onto the street, however his focus was broken when a loud snap erupted in his right ear. The wall beside him was slapped with a blaster bolt, causing the brick to shatter and crumble on the ground beside him.

In one fluid motion Elessar brought his lightsaber back to life. The azure blade erupted from it's emitter just in time to stop another of the crimson bolts from slamming into Elessar's face. They had started slow, but in time the hail of blaster bolts forced the man to hold his ground and focus on them as they came. His blade shined in the darkness, carving through the smog to meet the blaster bolts with a nearly perfect precision. He could not see the enemy, or the ambush that had been laying in wait, but he knew he was not alone. He spoke out to Zorok, his voice a wintry whisper, yet still it was clearly projected over the rain of bolts the Echani worked to block.

Flank them. I can distract them for a time, you must destroy them.” His instructions were clear and concise, and not once did the silver haired man pull his eyes from the task before him. No, it would mean certain death.
 

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