At Last We Will Have Revenge [TSE Dom of Mon Cala Hex, AL,27]

[Darren Quinn]

Objective I & IV: Bring Death, so that Law may prevail.
Location: Coral City, underwater cityscape.
Enemies/Allies: Feel free, no need to ask first.
Post Nr. II

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Bdew. Bdew. Bdew.

With a soft thud, the last of the Mon Calamari defenders fell to the ground, dead. Threading carefully over their still-warm bodies, the small party advanced. Blasters sweeping from wall to wall, cold crimson plexalloy separating them from their surroundings. Distancing them from their victims. There was silence. Then, a noise. A soft whimper. Spinning around, the man advanced, weapon before him as his gaze fell on two Mon Calamari, cowering. An adult and a child, the former trying to shield the latter with its body. For a moment, he hesitated. A long moment. Long enough for the adult to start to open his mouth.

Bdew. Bdew.

It was better this way. For everyone. Turning his back on the alley, cold duraplast concealing a brief grimace of self-loathing, he returned to his small team. No questions were asked, no answers were needed.

Stalking through the tunnels, now lit solely by soft red emergency lights, they made their way towards their destination. The local ventilation centre. The order had been given. Theirs was not to question, only to enact.

The Mon Calamari were coldly determined, or so the orders went. They were relentless, but even they would be hard pressed to keep fighting while their people died in droves in the bowels of the very city they were protecting.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Objective I/IV
Secure Coral City
Secure Ven Estate

​

This was not one of the worlds that Coren wanted to see fall. This, Corellia, Sullust, Alderaan. These were worlds that were hot beds for Republics, Alliances, and the ‘rebels’ of the galaxy. He knew his history enough, and one thing he really knew was that his Alliance was supported in large part by the Mon Calamari. That was why his fleet, or a detachment, was here to assist with networking the escapees and making sure they made the push to leave this world. He put out a quick blast to all friendly frequencies on Mon Calamari setting up the call for refugees to prepare to move, and those that hadn’t get armed and resist.

Looking over his shoulder, he nodded to the Mon Calamari who came with him, the ones who were in black gear, and they quickly made a turn to descend into the chaos. They were going to do what they could to sabotage the Sith Empire’s efforts on this day, but also provide a haven for the Alliance and her allies when it was time to return. People knew what was at stake if the Sith had laid on this world for too long. And stopping production would hurt the economy for a while but it would save the galaxy.

Until the light came back to the aquatic world.

For now, Coren was going to save as many souls as he could. With the back up of former Alliance members and the Mirialan volunteer force. The friendly fire was going to help stem the tide and the first step was to secure that spaceport and the LZ. Get the people off the ground and into space. And he knew there were a few cruisers still serving as cities under the water. Stepping through the fire fight, Coren called out for the probe droids to do their task.

Three dark gray probots zipped from the Niathal as he slide behind a wall. They were going to secure Ven’s family and locate the larger ships. Once he had those locations, Coren was going to be making steps, retrieve the VIPs and launch the cruisers and support vessels.

[member="Rick Kaloo"]
[member="Romi Jade"]
[member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]
[member="Narses"]

 

[Tubal Sahon]

OBJECTIVE: II- SEIZE MON CALAMARI SHIPYARDS
LOCATION: ON STATION, UNKNOWN SECTION
ENEMIES: PLS
Post #2
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tubal was one of the last that would step out of the transport ship. While he did love battle, he wasn't going to be one to fall to numbers. With a shield of flesh and metal in front of him, the Tower would meander his way out of the boarding vessel. The man closed his eyes as he took in the scent of burning flesh. Yes. This is what he loved so much. What he had been longing for for the better part of a year now. This was the smell of battle. Reaching out with the force, otherwise appearing distracted with something, he sensed a deadly intent trained solely on him, directed right at his head. Opening his eyes, he raised an arm just in time to block a deadly blaster bolt that would have surely pierced straight through his head. He scoffed to himself. He was rusty in the art of battle, that was certain. The beskar hooked into his flesh still smoked and sizzled from the force and the heat, he shook that off, ignoring the burning sensation building under it.

If the man had the lips to smile, he would have. Oh, how he would have, instead, it only caused the metal surrounding his mouth to move up a little bit. Another bolt found its way through the lines of men and droids from behind, striking another plate of his armor. This sent the tower stumbling forward a step. Very rusty indeed. Reaching out with the force, his anger manifest. The man that had shot him first was plucked from where he stood and sent hurtling above his own men. He hung there for a moment as Tubal attempted to demoralize the enemy men. With a simple motion of his hand, Tubal sent the soldier crashing back down into the rest of his unit. Moving him from side to side he began to sweep away those squid-like soldiers as if they were mere pins.

The Sith forces began to make calamari of the proned Mon Calamari soldiers, but that was not what Tubal was paying attention to at the moment. He turned towards the other flanking compliment. With the force, he threw the scraps of a fallen droid towards them before rushing through the front line of his own soldiers he would charge at them, using his beskar armor deflect their blows with relative ease, the kinetic force hammering into his body. Oh, how he missed this!

"RAAAGH!" Reaching out, Tubal would grab the first soldier that he could by the very head, his anger and malice flowing through the poor man in the form of deadly lightning that slowly began to fry his brains! His leg shot out in a sweeping kick to another soldier, stronger than any man should have been able, and sent him flying back down the hallway. The Mon Calamari that he had been shocking only moments before was now being used as some kind of weighted weapon as the Tower slung him over head and back down on to the ground. His other hand shot out, flinging another poor soul down the hallway and slamming him against the wall with a sickening thud, but Tubal doubted that he would be dead just yet! He forced another's neck into his hands where he began to choke him with a vice grip, but to Tubal's dismay, he would not be able to suffer a slow death by suffocation. Instead, he would be yet another living weapon, being hurtled into one of the few federation soldiers left standing.

The Tower turned his gaze back to the soldiers that had been brought with him, his gaze like a wild predator's. "Don't just stand there! CHAAARGE!"

 

[Sian Jerikao]

It would seem, Sian wasn’t much of a commander.

As he and his men broke through the initial wall of defenders the signs had shown this was going to be a breeze of a push after that, none had entirely accounted for the addition of internal defenses within the station, Sian cursed them as he made a wild roll to the side as another of those continuously dwindling Legion soldiers fell, an automated turret tearing the man to shreds. A snarl pierced his lips as he ducked into a small outcropping in the wall for cover.

Slippinf his comm into his hand he made an attempt to signal for additional reinforcements, only an idiot wouldn’t admit when things weren’t going proper. The sounds of battle came with his annoyed voice:

“This is Acolyte Sian Jeriako, suffering heavy resistance within the Shipyard: requesting assistance!”

Maybe more frantic than he would’ve liked, but as he spoke into the comm with one hand he was one-handing a carbine with the another, spraying bolts rather wildly. He needed to push forward...he just needed the opportunity, or the power.

But at current standing it seemed he had neither.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective III/IV - Testing something... new

Five larva were cast out of the transport into the waters below, along with several drone cameras to capture the process of what was about to happen next. With a command of the dark side, she broke them from their hibernation. The newly awoken creatures started to thrash in the water, shedding their outer skin and shells, growing larger and larger. Blue lights started to grow on their bodies, drawing the curious attention of fish and other aquatic life in the water... to their demise. The larva started consuming the life forces of those things that drew near them, leaving naught but a dried husk to float endlessly in the ocean waters.

The new energy accelerated their growth, the blue lights growing into fully formed blister traps. Their hide thickened, becoming armored. Tentacles grew from their back and face, fins growing along their back as their arms and legs developed. And their growth continued, their siren call attracting larger and larger species now to feast upon... and leaving nothing but death in their wake. Even one of the fabled devilsquids emerged from the Devil's Crevasse to investigate, but Taeli had done her research on what had destroyed the previous iteration of the Sea Leviathan.

The tentacles of the new monsters formed into jagged points, all the better to hook into flesh and tear asunder even metal and stone. The barbs of the tentacles had a potent neuro-toxin, a paralytic agent that would freeze nerve activity to muscles, leaving a victim limp and easy to consume with the blister traps. The devilsquid found this out to its end as two of her new monsters consumed its life force after paralyzing it. And now... she directed their attention towards the largest concentration of sentients, imprinting upon their developing minds what they could devour and what they could not.

Quarrens were to be untouched, but the Mon Calamari, with their bulbous eyes and heads... and the Jedi, with their shining light within the Force... they were the perfect prey. As a collective, the five monsters started swimming towards Coral City... right towards where [member="Coren Starchaser"] was helping an evacuation.

​

And she smiled.

 

[Narses]

Objective I/IV

Secure the comm station
Buy time
Location: courtyard outside the comm station

As Josuu knelt behind a cluster of barrels, she breathed in the tang of soot and smoke in the air and it made everything worse. She placed her rifle on the blue barrel in front of her and had to hold on with both her hands when she took aim. The legionnaires were incredibly disciplined, only taking safe shots and biding their time while more and more reinforcements arrived. None of them had seen her and they weren’t shooting in her direction which meant she got more than one clean shot.

She heard one of her men shouting something but she couldn’t make out what it was. Before she could stop herself, she saw red blaster bolts piercing the suit of gray and green armor. His posture was thrown off as he crashed face-first into the ground. Gaping in shock, she could smell the burnt flesh as shot after shot lit up his dead corpse until it was nothing but a smoldering pile of scorched armor.


He was dead – murdered by the Sith Empire like all her other comrades who risen up against the Sith so many moons ago at the homeplanet of Mirial. Back then she had sworn the oath to uphold the resistance and restore the old Mirial, where hope and the glimmer of Silver Jedi help hold strong, now she only felt jaded in her hate for the wolves in sheep's clothing that was the Sith. This wasn’t just a cause no more to her, this wasn’t liberating slaves or delivering food to those in need. This was war. This was bloody murder. This was vengeance for the then fledgling Mirialan resistances loss back home.

“Left flank! Move up, move up!”

She shouted amidst the carnage,the legionnaires were defending the entrance to the comm building with fervor and they were making good use of the crates for cover. Josuu was shouting more orders and two of the groups broke off to surround the defenders. She stayed with her group and as they approached slowly while delivering withering salvoes of suppressive fire on the defenders, the legionnaires were taken in the flanks and overrun. That left the way to the door open and when they reached the doors, she threw herself against the wall, panting hard while signalling for a radioman to come over while the rest of her troops fanned into the building.

"Get me a comm link to Morosh and his troops now!"

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Location: Frontlines a few blocks south of the Ven estate.
Objective: Survive until extraction

The ground was slippery and uneven, churned up by the constant Sith artillery strikes, slick and slippery from the corpses of both Mirialan,Mon Calamari and Sith corpses strewn across the rubbled landscape amidst the exchanges of blaster fire. His feet fought for purchase as Morosh spun again and swung with his rifle at another Sith legionnaire, sending the poor man tumbling back down the pile of rubble.

Chaos reigned.

Morosh flattened himself against the remains of a wall and surveyed the carnage in front of him. Mon Calamari soldiers and their Mirialan comrades were holding the tide and the fighting was bitter and hard. Ahead an explosion was heard as a Siel Manta mortar hit and disabled a AT-A/RW, sending the smouldering remains of the walker crashing down in the street as its burning drivers flopped out of the ruined walker. To his right he watched on as several of his squad mates ganged up on a lone Sith knight, bayonetting the man to death after having lost eight of their own to the knight.

"Morosh!- do you read???? this i-"

Morosh straightened himself up and grabbed his dust covered comm from his belt, surprised at the fact the signal had gotten through.

"Captain Morosh over."

"This is Captain Josuu reporting, how fares the situation in the north?"

"Its bad Captain, but we are holding for now, although i don't think we'll be able to hold them for more than two hours at best because the fethin Sith are bringing in the heavy guns," Morosh replied matter of factly, ducking slightly as a stray round hit the wall to the left of him.

"Just keep them busy and away from the Ven estate, the other task forces are holding for now but reports are streaming in of some beast?" Josuu's voice barely hid the tension even through the distortion of the comms, " the thing apparently downed one of the task force D transports."

A long paused continued between the two even as explosions streaked the sky.

"Do your duty Morosh."

[member="Coren Starchaser"]
[member="Rick Kaloo"]
[member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Breaking through Mon Cal’s Atmosphere ​

Flying: Search and Rescue Crafthttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/30522-saint-class-search-and-rescue-craft/​

With: [member="Isar Kislo"] ​

Objective: I/IV​

Playing in the cockpit​

​

[SIZE=11pt]___________________________________________________________________________________[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=11pt]“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Loske gritted her teeth, responding with audible irritation to the backseat driving astromech. Streaks of plasma whirred beside her, narrowly missing as she zig-zagged harshly to the right and left. The response was to the terse recommendations from the backseat driver, a medic, suggesting the blonde and her co-pilot avoid getting plasma bolted to smithereens, carefully reminding them that an evacuation frigate was useless without being able to reach the people. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“It’d be a lot more helpful if the miss and I could focus.” Azure gaze shot a ferocious [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]sit the kark down [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]look in the direction of the doctor, who acquiesced and sauntered out of the cockpit. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“This is why X-Wings and astromechs...I tell ya..” The pilot tsk’d, getting a titter of approval from her co-pilot. Loske was a social being, but when it came to telling her how to drive? No. Thank. You. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]An eruption of fire and smoke blossomed in an opening of flame-born petals in front of the viewport as they pushed through the atmosphere of the planet in distress. The Alliance’s call for assistance had been heard, and met with a few folks with wings. On board this particular vessel, the rebirth of the Arbiter and Redeemer. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I’m getting signals from the rest of the evacuation shuttles, it seems most of the citizens have been corralled to an exit point.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Great, Frankie, patch it in.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“And...more stress...there’s apparently….. Oh my kark.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The voice of her co-pilot made Loske look up from the new coordinates being patched through, and her face went pale. “Oh….this is why I like space..” It wasn’t full of creepy, mysterious water creatures that nobody could find until they decided to surface and look like...gulp...[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]that. [/SIZE]

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Some Hangar --> Coral City
Obective: 1 & 4
Allies: [member="Kole Harper"]

They all convened as expected, but not just in some random area of the hangar. No, they were all given to meet specifically somewhere all for one reason that would be unveiled to them soon. Djorn walked throughout the vacated hangar, all of the starcraft of different classes left to perform their duties, and saw his assembled squad. All three operatives wore their armor, though he noticed two of them not wearing their helmets. He recognized them both as he was the one that selected them. Bline remembered their faces, what they specialized in, some of their personality, and other bits of their documents and records.

The one with the helmet on was Kole, no doubt.

"Gentlemen," the Inquisitor addressed to his team, "and lady," as there was one female in the group by the name of Julitha. As he greeted the group, he balled up a fist and knocked at something, two times, that gave off a clang clang noise. At that cue something began to appear in front of them in the shape of a freighter that was hiding with stealth technology. The other male, Alimar, looked in surprise as the loading ramp opened to the interior of the ship.

"Hop on," he ordered to the three agents which they acknowledged and followed Djorn inside to which he lead them to a lounge that was adjacent to the cockpit, containing a pilot and co-pilot that were also part of the Saaraishash.

"Take us out," an order for both pilot and co-pilot, before returning to his team.

"Alright, folks. Listen up because this is a high stakes, high risks mission. I want this done without missing a single thing, otherwise there will be major consequences to face. Understood?"

An inhale of breath, and then exhaling before he continued.

"This is an assassination mission, and there are two primary targets we must eliminate. I've sent their information to your datapads for you to read over them. King Usash of Mon Cala, and President Nomdi of the Mon Calamari Federation. They are both Mon Calamarians. Their deaths will be critical against their ideals. With the death of King Usash, the Mon Calamarians will theoretically panic and loose morale. With his death we will be able to crown a new monarch of the Quarrens that will align with us, along with all of Dac. Moving on is President Nomdi. She is head of the Mon Calamari Federation, an organization that is independent of the government but is believed to mutually work with it. The federation is an insurgent group with its fighters of different races and species, that share one common goal: our Empire crumbled and destroyed."

He snorted at that idea. Many have challenged the Sith Empire, and all have failed miserably. The Mon Calamari Federation would soon be another foe squished by the boots of the Sith Empire.

"Secondary targets are the royal family, and other major leaders and politicians of the current Dac regime. For now, I have us prioritize on the king. Once he is eliminated we will proceed with Nomdi, and then whoever is left on our list. We will be dropped off at Coral City and swim to the Royal Palace."

That was good enough for a briefing, right?

"Any questions? If not, pick up your armament that is located in the cargo bay. There's a wide selection to choose from that performs well underwater. Choose wisely, though."

 

[Isar Kislo]

Objective I/IV
Evacuate Coral City
Tags: [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Rick Kaloo"] | [member="Romi Jade"]
Attire: Casual clothes

Glacier-blue eyes were shielded by light eyelids as Isar sat with his head hanging into his hands as the medical frigate rocked and rolled to avoid certain destruction. The aggressive maneuvering of his sister wasn't the problem, however. An accomplished pilot himself, Isar was certainly used to Loske's unique approach to aviation. Of the two, she was certainly the one that many referred to as sky-born. No, the problem was the team of medical experts seated in the cargo compartment along with Isar. In between the repeated staccato of gasps and screams, Isar heard an endless stream of defeated claims.

"We're going to die!"

"This is crazy! WE CAN'T SAVE ANYONE IF WE DIE TRYING TO GET TO THEM!"

"I think I'm going to puke..."

Isar allowed the prattle to continue for about...well...not long before he vaulted to his feet, just barely managing to keep his balance as Loske rocked the vessel to its side once more. With definitive steps, Isar made his way to the controls for the cargo bay doors. Without even being on the cockpit to look at any controls, the Jedi Knight could sense they were far from being close to insertion. No sooner had his hand touched the controls than a sensation of dread washed over him. The sensation was notable for two primary reasons. For one, there was so much dark energy saturating the planet it was amazing he felt anything else. For two, it was more an effect of his intense force bond with his sister.

When they'd first discovered the ability, Isar had seen little more than hectic flashes of her vision, receiving fractured emotions that confused him more than anything. Since then, they'd been through enough outrageous situations for Isar to refine his control over the advantage. In that moment, he clearly saw what Loske was seeing in the moment. The problem? He didn't know what he was looking at, so he utilized a fantastic concept to come to a conclusion.

The concept? Common sense.

The conclusion? The Sith had released some sort of dark-side infused, created, and/or controlled beast. Isar supposed he could respect the 'if it ain't broke don't fix it' approach to warfare.

With a irritable grunt, Isar depressed the button to open the cargo bay doors. As the metallic surface gave way to the turbulent waters and embattled city below, glacier-blue eyes studied the scene quickly. Raising his gaze to the nearest medical professional, Isar noted the woman had been looking at the same scene as him. Flashing her a wild, uncharacteristic smile, the Jedi calmly intoned, "Mind of matter lady. If you don't mind, it don't matter." Turning, Isar began to retreat towards a ladderwell that would take him up to the level of the flight deck.

Behind him, the woman called out, "Hey! Hey, crazy, I mind!"

Isar calmly stated, mostly to himself, "Yeah, I don't care."

Within a minute, Isar strode into the cockpit just as the vessel rocked to the side once more and pitched up abruptly. Grabbing a hold of the back of Loske and her co-pilot's seats, Isar put his head between the two. "Hey guys uhh... The objective here is to avoid getting shot out of the sky. Just saying." Tapping the co-pilot on the shoulder, Isar gave a real simple instruction. "Hop up for a second my man."

Frankie glanced to Loske and then to Isar with an incredulous look. Certainly Loske's brother wasn't trying to run a chinese fire drill now.

"Frankie I'm not in the mood. You can gaze lovingly into her eyes when we're done working." Once the man finally relented and abandoned the seat, Isar settled in. Immediately, hands deftly began flying over the controls with practiced ease. "We're gonna get destroyed if we don't put this thing on the deck, and I do mean now Blue." Isar's final act was to depress a button that sealed the cargo bay doors once more. "Nose it over into a tight, spiraling descent. I'll manipulate thrust to the sublight bank and the repulsors to keep the vessel from over-stressing. As we reach the decision altitude, I'll help you muscle the controls to the rear and get the nose up and use the repulsors to arrest our descent. Ideal scenario, we're ten meters above the landing zone at horizontal and vertical landing velocity. Ready? On a countdown to one."

A pause.

"One." Isar slammed the sublight throttles forward to the stop. At the same time, he brought the repulsors up to five percent just to keep the dive from reaching a point of being uncontrolled. Allowing the bond with his sister to flow easily, Isar utilized her vision and intuition coupled with his own to get a precise understanding of what she was seeing and feeling. Loske would be able to do the same. End result...a really well coordinated flight crew for such a massive vessel.

 

[Rakaan Horne]

LOCATION: SOME HANGAR -> CORAL CITY
OBJECTIVE: 1-4
ALLIES: [member="Djorn Bline"]

Kole had worn his helmet, but only for the briefest of moments. It was in the interim of nothingness- waiting, considering there had been an Operative yet to reveal themselves. There were many intricacies that whirred around behind that visor, establishing the Heads-Up-Display before any action had begun. It made sense too, no? They were all mostly the same, helmets that is, and so despite his relative unfamiliarity with this specific one, it wasn't entirely difficult to adapt to it's functions. The HRD had removed it from his head after slightly bowing in the process, gripping it by the lip as it rest down by his side. His expression was bland, insignificant and unfeeling.

He listened.

It seemed to be murder. But Kole had no choice, no decision to opt out or resign, there was a debt he owed and it must be paid in service. It hadn't been an entirely unfamiliar concept either, even when not sanctioned by an intergalactic superpower. He had been rather indifferent towards that of the Sith Empire, but Harper was inevitably going to become accustomed to it. It might become something he can be proud of, too.

​The Agent had taken his steps forwards, his booted feet colliding creating a metallic pitter and patter with each collision his booted feet made with the lowered ramp. Steal Technology had always been a fascination, a point of intrigue. He never really knew how it worked, exactly, but it was always interesting. Invisibility, to most, was held in the same regard. His synthetic eyes washed over the equipment available, those within. The enigma of an agent had chosen his preference, idly waiting until it was time to deploy. "Inserting beneath the surface?" Kole questioned, eyebrows raised. He assumed as much through the mention of 'underwater'.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Location: Shipyards
Objective: 2 & 4

The ride was, obviously, rocky and slightly annoying. Funny how this was all familiar to Vilaz as he had done this a dime a dozen, yet never got used to it. Just sit down, try to relax, and hope you're dropship didn't get blown in the cold, vacuum of space. At least dying in such way was quick and easy, one would barely feel anything before succumbing to death. Nothing like dying from a painful disease, torture, or anything that seemed too long.

Many minutes passed and, fortunately, Vilaz's dropship made it unscathed to a docking bay of the shipyard. Others joined him too, and noticed that they lost several soldiers during their journey. Expected, though it would surprise him if all made it in one piece.

The dropships would lay down some fire on what appeared to be hostile elements that made fortifications and other emplacements to combat against boarders. While that was being done the Warlord and his warriors exited out of the dropship, flying in their repulsorpacks to take over chokepoints that would give them the upper hand. Nothing too serious, but it would allow the others to advance with some ease and not be outrageously harass by anti-infantry armament.

"Move it," he yelled out in the comms as a Sith-Imperial dropship exploded from enemy ordnance.

"Kill them all save for the engineers and other staff. Stun them or knock them out if you have to."

It would be a long campaign to assume control of this sector of the shipyards but if they can make it pass this checkpoint, then things would look bright for them.

 

[Reverance]

Objective: I/IV
Objective Defined: Kill or be killed
Tags: [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Rick Kaloo"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Narses"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]
Location: Entering the City
Gear: Armor

The sound of conquest echoed softly in the background. The brassy pang of blaster shots against alabaster, the almost muted thud of defensive canons and mounted turrets, the screams. The screams. Such things would have given him unimaginable pleasure, comfort sapped and pulled from a well that many would have considered empty. The whispers of a rifle singing that familiar song, the humming snap-hiss of a lightsaber leaping to life, the resonance of a body hitting the ground and pulsing.

Now...just ash in the mouth.

He caught his own reflection, investigating a lapping pool of ocean caught in the metallic alcoves of Coral City. He guessed it had some sort of industrial purpose but it didn’t matter enough to pursue. He was more inclined towards his own image, how worn and weather-beaten he looked, and how it would have been easy to fall in - let the armor take him down.

He didn’t care for this mission. He wasn’t opposed to it either. He had dropped the cobalt blue armor, telling of his life on Nadir, for something that spoke more of his time with the legion. The taught sinews of crab flesh spun about the axles and fulcrums of his body, whirlwinds of scar tissue colored in burned tones, corded fibers that obscured the unarmored components of his suit.

He looked as he did once, in another life. Tilting his gaze towards the sky, he watched as the rallying cry of the enemy took form in a haggard expression of defiance. Kicking open a hatch, he took the short route into the city. Maybe he’d find this resistance, see if they could bring him the release for which he searched. Or maybe he’d find himself the residents of this condemned city, cowering in despair.

And do what he came to do.

 

[Kuzo]

Mon Calamari
Objective III


[float right]

[/float]

The beaked face tipped this way and that, watching the release of the virus from the upper platform before turning to regard the screens splayed out. They showed the weather patterns across Mon Cal, the currents and how they presently moved, along with projected patterns of the dispersal.

Irajah didn't care about Mon Calamari one way or the other. For now, she worked within the patterns of the woman she had taken the place of. A bit of a face. No. That had been a slice of her, stolen without her permission. Everything she had done belonged to Irajah. She would use this space created, the trust given to the copy, for her own ends. Time held until she could lay the foundations, brick by brick. Helping the Empire was the pathway toward that goal. For now. There would be a time in the future when she used the connections she built here to start its erosion. One ocean wave after the next. Slow, meticulous. Weakening the structures that stood.

She had all the time in the world.

For now, she continued as Vain. Sharp, rude. Acerbic. A small handful of her allies already in place. Biding time. Not enough yet. But that would change.

Beneath the mask, Irajah Ven smiled.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The screams.

When the abominations of the Lord of Lies made contact with the front lines screams cut deep through the city like a howling wind, joined by a symphony of screeches and throated roars from the mouths of creatures spawned from the blackest pit imaginable. As they waged war tearing the enemy apart with maw, claw, tendrils, and blasts of black energy they killed and died. But even in death they inflicted damage as their black ichor sloshed over the ground and spread like a virus unleashing pockets of vile smelling corpse gas. The very toxic substance twisted and corrupted as even metal bent and contorted while unusual spore plants grew up from its darkness, black tendrils filled with eyes would explode from this black ichor and grow rapidly as they thrashed about crushing life that made the unfortunate mistake of coming into range.

But then the whispers came.

Even as [member="Darth Carnifex"] collided with the lines a battlefront away with hardened soldiers men of the resisting force would buckle falling to their knees. As the corruption grew the influence of these maddening creatures and their auras grew stronger until it felt like one was too deep in the ocean. It was as if the voices of billions rang in their heads trying to crack their skulls open. The pain was unbelievable, the madness peeling layer after layer of their sanity away while those with inner beasts unleashed their monsters. Many would drop to their knees screaming for it to stop, while others tore out their own eyes and blew out their own eardrums in a vain attempt to get it to stop, but some would just fall hugging their knees and babbling to themselves.

But others changed.

They were the sociopaths, the psychopaths and those who wore masks to the rest of the world, maybe even from themselves. The madness forced their inner beasts to come out to play and instead of driving them to self harm it put the monster in the drivers seat and once this occurred, bound them to the will of the demons from beyond. Once they accepted this new truth, they were lost forever. They turned their guns around on their own comrades, as grenades went off in pillboxes where the enemy across the way was hopelessly pinned down, in places where even distant snipers cracked and began picking off their own men, it was widespread and erratic by nature, a process depending on the person that could be slow or fast, all of course dependent on their will.

Out from the rapidly moving hordes came a figure, a titan.

Darth Prazutis, Shadow Hand of the Sith Emperor emerged clad in black plate a lightsaber gripped in his other hand. He smashed into the front lines with the force of a hurricane his voice thrummed with power as he cleaved down with the blade and unleashed torrents of black energy, of crimson lightning to strike down enemies at a distance. He stood like some god of war boldly exposed as he one life after another he sent screaming into the netherworld. The very rage and hate that boiled beneath the surface was infectious and it showed as they fought with even greater ferocity.

 

[Romi Jade]

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Mon Cala
Outer Space ---> Coral City
WITH: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Narses"] [member="Isar Kislo"] [member="Reverance"]
OBJECTIVE: I/IV: Entering the field

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Spoiler

[youtube]

Spoiler

https://youtu.be/HabTWYIi5iM[/youtube]

The outline of her cheekbone grew more apparent, helped mostly by her grinding her teeth. This was one of those days where the battle she fought for her spirit was the heaviest. It just so happened to also be a day where the Sith Empire began their occupation of Mon Cala. Crazy huh?

She didn't have half the second to give in to the muscle tremors, and forced disillusionment granted to her by an ailment she'd been dealing with since she was imprisoned on Lola Sayu. She held back her talons for this ride, leaving it all to Coren; she would just bring in the back up when he gave the signal.

She eyed the static images as they appeared, warily gazing across the holo-generated battlefield with what forces they sort of could account for. The Bridge itself was tense, and she was getting a full dose of the subtle anxiety. "So far things seem okay, Coren should be signaling soon. Lets start preparing for tha-"

"What the..."

Her head whipped around, more so because she noticed the distress in his voice over everything else. "What is it?"

"We're picking up something moving fast...towards the city."

Two strides, she carved her path around the center terminal to gauge his description a bit better; that's all it took. Her head beckoned back, feeling the soft batter of her hair flailing to and from her face. "I'm going...Look out for that signal. And..."

She punched the comm attached to the wall, and flooded into the repulsorlift. A quick pivot, "Let them know down there." The doors shut, and she was engulfed in momentary darkness.

In her head, "Kark, now I have to pilot...."

She rolled her eyes.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The street undulated and buckled, sheets of durasteel and permacrete peeling back as an invisible wall of kinetic energy careened down the causeway before slamming into a group of rallying Mon Calamari soldiers. They barely had a moment to suck in a breath before the wave passed over them and catapulted them into the air, their screams silenced in their throats as their bones were shattered and their organs reduced to paste inside of their bodies.

Those that had survived were throttled by an invisible hand all at once, their necks were broken and their oesophagi collapsed.

They had never even caught a glimpse of their assailant, his body shrouded in a thick smog from the multiple artillery shells that had crashed into his position. Smoke trailed away from a dozen different blaster craters in his armor, each of them a lethal blow if the wearer had been someone vastly different from the titan who now strode out into the open, a beam of sunfire extending from his right hand. Cold and calculating eyes washed over the scene, apathetic cruelty sending each body flying out of his way as he came to stand before the monument that had drawn every fiber of his ire.

A monument to his failure.

An inscription recounted the Battle of Mon Cala from over a decade ago, praising the brave soldiers and Jedi who had laid down their lives to bring freedom and liberty to the oppressed peoples of this pitiful planet. The words brought a fire to his blood, boiling it in his veins. With a twitch of his fingers, he tore the panel away from the monument's base, crumbling it up into a ball of jagged metal before casually tossing it aside like refuse.

Then he set into the statue, carving great chunks from its body with every swipe of his scarlet blade. He did not cease until it had become unrecognizable, its meaning now forever lost to his blinding anger. Then with a flourish of his left hand, he blasted the remains, atomizing them into ash as the metal foundation buckled inward and bubbled with unnatural heat, oozing into the maintenance tunnels below to form pools of molten slag.

"Demolish this city!" He bellowed to the soldiers who had at last caught up to him, "Disassemble it brick by brick and ensure that no lasting vestige of its existence remains! Their pride, their art, their heritage, their existence will be naught but scorched rock resting in the deepest abyss."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Breaking through the atmosphere, landing to evacuate Coral City
Objective I/IV
Listening to​

The counting to one was really just for show. The showoffiness the twins exhibited was certainly a trait from their maternal donor. The reality of it was as soon as [member="Isar Kislo"] slid into the cockpit and his adrenaline peaked, Loske and Isar shared a bond that not only enhanced their strength and efficiency in physical situations, but accuracy and perception in mental scenarios. Like right now. As a result, they hardly needed to communicate. At this point, it was more comfortable for them to still use words, as they were still adjusting to the nuances of the Force Bond.

The sway of the entrance was diluted, and the designated landing pad was almost illuminated in the shared vision of the clones. With Isar taking care of the thrusters (thrusting duty, lol), Loske’s responsibilities shifted to sharing the load; the control surfaces. With the steep descent they were making through the atmosphere toward the sloshing water surface below, it was critical to keep the ship less stressed than its passengers. Throttling the speed brakes to counter the velocity her brother was controlling, the ship perused quite calmly to the designated landing spot.

“This is getting more and more convenient.” Loske commented, a relative observation to their super power as the ship eased to a hover above the platform, extended the landing gear, and a chorus of relief shouted through the vessel from the medical support passengers.

New location: Landed to assist in the evacuation of Coral City​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Coral City
Objective I/IV
Team [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Rick Kaloo"] [member="Narses"] [member="Isar Kislo"] [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]
Enemies [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Reverance"]

The Jedi Master had a few things going for him. Least of all was the fact that he always hoped his presence anywhere would get the Sith forces riled up at him. It would point the focus at him, but it also had the double-edged aspect of getting the Sith at him and his objective. But right now? He had underlings. So long as he was near something, he could keep the eye on him, and not his soldiers. The Mon Cal Resistance team had already made their way into the crowd, but the mix of Miralian, Humans, and Sullustans was going to be a bit different. They were tasked with getting the shuttles off the ground and escorting those who weren’t already evacuating to the ships.

And also getting to the Ven family and getting them off the world. Word was that they had a pair of cruisers that were going to be very useful, and the biggest rumor was that there was a battleship in their allied group. Could be very good for the Alliance in Exile.

But the first thing was getting there. The teams started to split up, with Coren in the group of humans. The probots had their tasks, link up to the known locations of the cruisers and scout the area. The trick was what was being sent back towards Coren. It didn’t take long for the two to find cruises, but the third was looking for the battleship and was reporting back what looked like sea monsters. On his arm, the screen lit up and Starchaser shook his head. Had he had his armor, it would link to ShortFin’s Lexi AI. But for now? He just had the scans.

Tapping the comm in his light armor’s helmet, he broadcast out to [member="Rick Kaloo"]. “Hey partner, you seein’ this? Any ideas?” This was all beyond him. Ships were having to get in the air.

“Commander, get those ships in the air, ad out of here. Mon Calamari fleet will pick them up, or Alliance in Exile fleet.” He changed his channel to one of the Mon Calamari soldiers. “Blue, that you in the air? Sending you somethin’ for you to carry home, if you could?” The Jedi Master needed the call from the air and space forces. He would so much prefer to be up there. But until then [member="Loske Matson"] was going to have to help. “Romi, you up there too?” He’d need all the air support with what was coming.

And that was when he felt the other presence. One he hadn’t felt in… years. He fingered the rifle’s trigger a few more seconds. He was going to need his lightsaber, wasn’t he? The mission, or the enemy…

 

[Rick Kaloo]

CORAL CITY - FINANCIAL DISTRICT​

​

Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Romi Jade"], [member="Loske Matson"], [member="Narses"], [member="Isar Kislo"], @Acranus Sunstrider​

OBJ: IV (Retrieve Joa + Ast Kaloo, withdraw ORME assets and eliminate essential production facilities)​

​

​

The corvette continued to soar through a flaming cityscape, doing all it could to evade Sith fire. Finally, it stopped at a seemingly random apartment facility and unloaded a single passenger.​

​

Rick bolted into the apartment, pushing open the doors. As expected, the attendant had evacuated, so he had a free path. He pushed open a set of side doors near the attendant's booth, revealing a set of staircases going up and down the entire building. Rick bolted up the stairs, even while the building around him shook on its foundations. As long as a Sith didn't find Rick's signature in the Force, it would be a relatively simple operation. Three floors up, Rick left the staircase behind, traveling down a long, thin hallway. Other paths bent to the left, right, and behind him, tempting him to follow and become lost in their maze. However, Rick knew better, only taking the routes necessary to get to where he wanted to be.

Room 3-85. At last, Rick stumbled apon the room. The door was closed, having no sign of being opened in the near future. Therefore, Rick could infer accurately that his parents were still in there. He entered the room code, 8875, and gently opened the door.

Then, Rick was nearly impaled with a kitchen knife, thrown by his father, but he instinctively reached out with his hand and the Force did his job for him, stopping the knife a few inches from Rick's palm. Then, he released his grip, allowing the knife to clatter to the floor between them.

"S-Son... How?" asked both Joa and Ast Kaloo at the same time, with their shock evident not only in their voices, but their faces as well.
"I'll explain later. Come with me if you want to get off this world safely." replied Rick. "The Sith are throwing everything they've got at us, it wouldn't be wise to stay much longer."

To emphasize Rick's point, the resonating boom of an artillery cannon could be heard, followed by an influx in the vibrations haunting the apartment facility. Then, the parents and their son changed positions as Rick shepherded them through the halls and down the stairs. As he exited the main double doors and boarded his corvette, he received a message on his portable radio from Coren, describing the current situation.

"The beasts? Oh, I see them alright. It would be hard not to, considering their size. I'll try my best to handle them with the local artillery cannon and whatever ships I can come up with. As for the Ven cruisers, we'll have some support for you as well."

After the comm was sent, he transmitted another to Mal Vic, who was busy evacuating dozens of Outer Rim Military Engineering vessels.

"Could we spare a few ships? Our freinds need some help picking up their cruisers, which isn't helped by the sea monsters approaching the city now. Speaking of, could you auto-aim the Cerrus at them?"

"Sure thing, on both requests."

The corvette took off, rising rapidly as it soared toward the valiant defenders of Mon Calamari.

At the same time, a ray shield around a currently intact part of The Blade revealed one of ORME's greatest weapons. The Cerrus-class Demolisher, an artillery cannon the size of a heavy frigate, meant to eliminate vessels fifty times its size, slowly tilted to face the oncoming hulk of Sithspawn. Then, its barrel opened up, revealing a space large enough for a CR90 corvette to fly inside. Five seconds later, a shell the size of a small house burst out of the cannon in a brilliant flash.

​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective I/IV - Testing something... new

Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Reverance"] @other Sithies
Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Rick Kaloo"] [member="Loske Matson"]

They neared the city and she commanded her creations to dive deeper for the moment, and not a moment too soon. Her danger sense had picked up the artillery shell coming towards them, where the kriff had they found a cannon that could fire out this far in a city? Really? Really now?

And still they kept coming, the monsters sensing all the life force within the city, their ravenous hunger for the souls unable to be constrained and nor would she do so. She wanted to see what would happen, and she would need to send Coren a thank you note. The man just did not understand how to be subtle, being a shining beacon in the Force was so easy to find and track. Letting out a sigh that the man had learned absolutely nothing since their last encounter, she gave the final command to her monsters.

There would be a brief quiet from the water...

And they would burst forth from the depths, tentacles whipping through and burrowing into buildings. Their roars causing madness and paralyzing fear for those not blessed with the Force or protected by the dark side masters of the Sith. An insidious force issued from them, draining the vitality of their victims, screams issuing from those ensnared in the tentacles and drawn into the blister traps. One of her monsters surged towards where a ship was starting to land, honing in on the two Force Sensitives within it.

Her transport would land nearby, and she would take a step towards the railing of the building it rested on to watch and observe.