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

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Orbital Shipyards, Mon Cala​

Objective II :: Secure the Shipyards​

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Whereas the fleet acted like a bull, the 7th were akin to rats; worming their way into whatever gaps they could find.

The battle in the orbit of Mon Cala raged on, the defense fleet of their rivals putting up a fight that most could only aspire to achieve; the history of the Mon Calamari and their shipbuilding techniques was no doubt strong and sturdy. The arrogance of either side and the lack of willingness to unlock themselves from the confrontation that hundreds of ships carrying tens of thousands fought to keep themselves and their ship intact snared the conflict into a narrow mindset that this could only end with either the Sith or Mon Calamari utterly eradicated-- Yet for all their might in their shipbuilding, perhaps those that sought to defend their homeworld so valiantly and to the end seldom took note to the invisible threat that flew like a flock of carrion birds as it slipped through the ever-growing graveyard of destroyed ships, dodging turbolaser fire and dogfights between fighters. Their cargo? Hundreds, if not thousands of soldiers that each had their objectives locked within their minds and their equipment altered to best suit the harsh reality of extravehicular activity and the suffocating hold of the great void.

Soon enough, those rats would find their way into the woodwork, gnawing at the infrastructure that kept the entire operation on its feet.

The various shuttles diverted into smaller groups and became flies among the carcasses and those that were still operational, dismounting troops to both the shipyards, the surrounding orbital defense platforms and many of the ships themselves; every transport and its crew had an objective that sought to capture and sow confusion into the ranks of the Mon Calamari. If all went to plan, the defense fleet would shortly begin firing upon itself and draw fire from the Sith Empire's vessels, which would feel less pressure and more incentive to deliver the killing blow. Of course, this monumental task did not come without immense danger as the men and women of the 7th would find themselves surrounded by enemies and having to take on crews of servicemen and marines almost single-handedly. Despite this and the fact that they were under fire as part of a clash between armadas and being entirely without support, the Legionaries would not falter and, if capture of the vessel seemed unobtainable, they would simply resort to causing as much damage to the internals as possible prior to bugging out or fighting to the last man; ensuring that their deaths were not for nothing. It was the shipyards, however, that held the priority and had the most troops deployed to. Not only did they seek control of the colossal platform itself but sought to fight through whoever stood in their way to capture the engineers and architects; some of the brightest minds that Mon Cala had to offer.

All the while, General Thumahra watched as the thumping of the ship guns vibrated gently across the ship. It was at least holding, for now.

The distance, however, was soon closed. Despite the support provided by the Adjudication and its desire to keep towards the rear and provide support with its long-range guns, the Star Destroyer had not neglected from retaliation from the Mon Calamari and their defense fleet. The shields had soaked up a majority of the brunt force that sought to destroy the ship but several breaches caused by photon torpedoes had left their mark on both the integrity and the manpower aboard the Empire's vessel. Yet that now wasn't the only problem as the Mon Calamari sought to board and take over the vessel; the General imagined that it was to utilize the ship's rear position to strike the Sith Empire's fleet from behind and cause confusion, just as he had sent his troops to do the very same thing. As the marines and crew scrambled to try and act upon two threats at once, the General simply stood from his position and took to a turbo-lift, sending himself down to the guts of the ship.

The cravings that cried for sating would be seen to. The ship would not fall.

 

[Reverance]

Objective: I/IV
Objective Defined: Kill or be killed
Tags: [member="Loske Matson"] | @Isa Kislo | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Rick Kaloo"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Narses"] | Arcanus Sunstrider
Location: A large private residence, abandoned.
Gear: Armor

The buildings shuddered beneath the pressures of battle. Ships soared above the city, vibrating the city with the hum of their respulsor engines. Great and unknown beasts clashed against the duracrete and durasteel, rattling improperly hoisted materials to the ground below. A small boy stepped into the room, blue hued and lit by yellow lamps recessed into the ceiling above. His eyes, like mounted suns standing in awe atop a planet of red, looked up towards a body-length painting.

Sounds echoed through the room and in the dark, a single red eye shined in the shadows of an unadorned corner. The man had assumed, given enough time, that the whole room would have been decorated in the works of various artists - it was clearly intended for museum purposes. The child gasped and stepped backward, stumbling to the ground. Reverance smiled beneath the veil of the shadow, noting that the young calamari was wearing a miniature space suit and sounded like a body trying to run in a paper bag. It was two sizes too large.

“Don’t be afraid.” He had every reason to be.

“I’m...I’m not.” The boy retorted, propping himself up on one hand. “W-who are you?”

“No one.” Nothing. “Are you here alone? Amid all this clamor?”

“Clamor? Like Clams?”

“Where are your parents? Irresponsible of them to leave you alone at a time like this.” He emerged from the shadows holding the empty helmet of his Vong armor. Like he was carrying the head of the person that used to hold the name of Warmaster, of Wrath.

“They’re...they are…” Reverance interjected, kneeling down. “Don’t be afraid.” He saw fire light up in those big eyes, tasting just an ounce of impatience. The boy wasn’t much, that was clear, but he had spirit. “I’m not! They’re helping gather up residents. To escape! They asked me to get some belongings, to meet them. Are...are you…”

“Here to help?” Reverance tilted his head as he finished the boys sentence. “What do you think?” The boy didn’t answer but as he leaned forward, his hand slowly moved out to touch Reverance’s missing eye - and the swirling scar. “Who-who did that to you?”

“A bad man.” He responded quickly, easily naming himself as such. “Like those that have come here?” Reverance paused and shook his head, seeing his own reflection in the boys curious gaze. “Worse. Now…” He stood and offered his hand. “I must find your family, the evacuees. I don’t know the way. So long as I’m with you, you will be fine.” He put on a kind and reassuring expression. It was easy, an empty glass took whatever it was offered.

Easily persuaded, not yet knowing a life of duplicity and deceit, the boy took Reverance's armored hand and pointed. “This way. It’s not far.” The satchel bounced against the boys left hip as he lead the former Wrath, clearly excited to see his family once more.

 

[Djorn Bline]

Location: Nearing Coral City
Allies: [member="Kole Harper"]
Objective: 1 & 4

There was always one or two questions, and were typically asked by the "new guy". But Djorn wasn't annoyed by his question; in fact, he welcomed it. It was his responsibility to guide Agents and Initiates under his command. He did know a few officers that hated when questions were asked, something Bline despised of. Those were elements against cohesion to which he opposed of. This wasn't the One Sith where soldiers were treated as expendable cannon fodder, just thrown at the enemy to overwhelm without any sense of efficiency.

Perhaps the One Sith were effective in that matter, but the Sith Empire were much more efficient giving more effective results.

"Not exactly," the Inquisitor replied to Kole, while taking quick looks at his now revealed face. He wanted to learn more about this Harper. It was his duty as an Inquisitor for the Empire, along with other duties he performed.

The fact that this...operative was part of the Saaraishash without any documentation whatsoever concerned Bline. Could be a mole or a saboteur. Did Lord Saarai knew about this? Or his High Inquisitors, especially his smol mouse friend?

Questions that would need to answer at another time.

"The freighter will be suspended above the water and we'll have to dive. Our armor is modularized for this kind of environment, but we have other equipment that can take us faster than our own abilities."

Question answered.

"Anything else, Harper?" Djorn asked while being comradery as he can. He had to act friendly, but not oversell it, to not raise any suspicious flags. Try to get him to trust the Inquisitor, start somewhere to know his secrets.

 

[Rakaan Horne]

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

There came a subtle shake of his head, from left to right, and the firm delivery of the simple, "No, sir." It had been expected. Kole held no rank, nothing of note, a foot soldiering agent that was akin to that of a grunt. He knew what he was doing, but that was about it. Beyond that? Kole merely existed, operating as told, a slave to a system that took advantage where it could. It was his own doing, though, he had taken that choice- accepted that burden all in favour of something secured away in his mind at all times. It hadn't taken a focus now, but it was there. Lingering in the background.

The Agent shifted elsewhere, finding his place to stand or sit as they ventured towards the planet and above the water. It wasn't going to take very long.

 

[Sko'saht]

Objective I: Destroy Corporate Assets

Allies: Mon Calamari, Silver Jedi Order

Enemies: Sith, anyone stupid enough to get in the way

The two Mantis bombers streaked out of hyperspace and promptly went to slightly below full throttle in order to he’d keep speed while not losing his wingman. His bomber was the A model and was armed with a single guided penetration bomb and a full tube of advanced concussion missiles. They had one goal, the complete destruction of Rick's facilities. Not designed for open combat and more to be a forwards or independent striker they were being put to a rather different task today that they were none the less capable of; run into the atmosphere, drop their munitions onto the factory in order to collapse or overload the reactor and then make a quick escape if there was no further tasking. While that was normal this would be against an already alert system filled with angry Sith buzzards and capital ships. A second group was on standby just outside the system in case they failed to accomplish their objective but they were a secondary thought in Sko’s mind.

Sitting on the left side of the cockpit he reached up and engaged the shield generators. Placing his right hand back on the throttle he watched the planet rapidly approach, to his eyes a thousand small images all stitched together to give a full view of his surroundings. His navigator/bombardier was a jedi who’d ensure the bomb penetrated the reactor. Flying in line abreast to his left a second Mantis in it’s B configuration, they’d provide clean up and rear protection with their cannon. To maintain all possible the speed the two bombers were going to come in on their attack run at a steep fifty-five degree angle in order to drop the bomb in a dive attack to ensure maximum penetration. It was set to go off towards the bottom of the place's reactor and drive the explosion upwards to turn everything of value into scrap.

Sensor systems feeding information into his black Bes’kar helmet with it’s two eye bulges deforming the T-shape visor the Verpine was almost as aware of the situation as a Jedi. With his ability to watch his instruments and rapidly shift focus to other sensors he watched as the Sith fleet maneuvered to engage the Mon Calamari defenses. The outer edge of their formation were off to his bombers left and up by seventeen kilometers, it was closer then he would have liked. The Verpine had zero doubt they’d already been spotted. Not even the blind could have missed the two coming out of hyperspace and the signature of some of the fastest starfighters in the galaxy were giving off. Stealth wasn’t as important when you had friendlies just ahead and could outrun the enemy interceptors. Pressing on the communications button to broadcast to his bombardier and wingman he chittered out. “Time to target is under five mikes, arm the ordnance. Use the missiles on anything in our way.”

[member="Rick Kaloo"], [member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Romi Jade]

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Mon Cala
Outer Space ---> Coral City
WITH: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Narses"] [member="Isar Kislo"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Loske Matson"]
OBJECTIVE: I/IV: Confronting [member="Taeli Raaf"] and [member="Reverance"] wya?

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(Skipping around a bit here to get to the plot)

“Romi, you up there too?”

"N...no. I'm here in the city..." She hovered in her position, completely committed to this objective. She stepped from the shadows. The lone figure she spied slinking away earlier, she finally caught up to. It was as she hoped... "I assume those things belong to you...?" She slowly lowered her head, and stared for a long while, neither blinking. It was a test of wills before the inevitable. Romi had been hunting Taeli since the fall of the Alliance.

It seemed their locations had been a hub for HoloNet publishers, the consistent red flashing in the background caused a repetitive red sheen to incase her locs. And, there were a dozen questions Romi would have liked to ask Taeli. How had she gone about the grand betrayal? What was the deal with these clones?

She had a brief flashback to her investigation of the Ghost Prison and how she came across that failed clone...

But she could feel through her Force-bond that Coren needed help.

"For one...you probably don't even know me all that well. And that's alright." Her nostrils flared, and she had thoughts of reaching for her lightsaber but, she recalled her weakened state. "I thought this scenario wouldn't come for a long time, or that Coren would get to you first. However, you fell right into my hand..."

She wasn't in full, good health; that made her slightly nervous. An affliction she'd been battling sapped her strength, and it was only through her will and strength in the Force that kept the poison at bay. She couldn't pass this chance up though...it meant too much.

"I don’t have much time, so I’ll give you one chance to surrender for your betrayal of the Alliance," she said. "After that, I'll be forcing you to come with me."

Mon Cala may be loss, but....What she meant to the AiE?

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective I/IV - Observing her monsters, and teaching

Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Fiolette Yvarro"] [member="Kole Harper"] [member="Djorn Bline"] [member="Vestille Thumahra"] and other Sithies
Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Rick Kaloo"] and other rebels

Directly Engaging: [member="Romi Jade"]

Her newest creations were doing quite well so far, if she didn't say so herself, but she already had ideas on how they could improve upon their genetic code. A little stronger, perhaps introduce rathtar DNA for fission reproduction, enhance their draining ability... oh the ideas were endless when it came to Leviathans. Still, this first test was proving to be amusing to her. And then she felt the presence of someone of the Light nearby, and yet... it flickered. Interesting.

"I assume those things belong to you...?"

She smiled as she turned to face whoever had come to confront her, not breaking eye contact with the woman. The face was familiar, but she could not quite place a name to it. Had she been part of Viroca's experiments on Force Sensitive clones? Possibly, she couldn't always remember whose DNA the Arkanian Sith had obtained. She gave a curious tilt of her head as the woman continued speaking, hinting she had been hunting for Taeli since the fall of the Alliance. Intriguing, and she could sense... ah that would explain the flickering.

"Answering in order, yes those things you so simply put it are new experiments of mine," she said. "And I certainly am not going to be surrendering or going anywhere with you. Neither, I suspect, can you force me either. But you can certainly try."

She removed her lightsaber from her belt, but refrained from igniting it yet. She was curious after all.

"I offer you a similar choice. Run along, or I'll be forced to subdue you."

 

[Fiolette Fortan]

MON CALAMARI​

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Battlegroup Elidibus​

Aboard the HIMS Elidibus​

Objective II + IV​

[member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Vestille Thumahra"] | [member="Aut-X"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] |​

[member="Vilaz Munin"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | @Armada & Legion Forces​

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vI2xJDKbSYw[/media]


Battlegroup Elidibus bore the marks of battle, scorched lines along the hull and the Elidibus remained strong. The Mon Calamari were not to be underestimated, they would fight hard and fight hard they had. In fact, the battle above the shipyards continued even as Fiolette issued another order that sent the screens to intercept an oncoming wave of fighters. X-Wings roared by the many turbolaser batteries and smaller vessels such as the Bolt III turned to give chase as the Muhktiars flooded space with anti-starfighter weaponry. It was now a scene from many historic battles as the Rebels and the Imperials fought for control of the world. TIE Fighters poured out from the bellies of their carriers and the sounds of death muted by the very nature of space.

Indeed, the fleet was the bull charging into the fray, "focus fire!" Fiolette ordered from the command center as several lines of cruisers moved to focus fire on the already worn defenders. Hues of crimson erupted from their barrels and lashed out across the black depths crashing into the weakened Mon Calamari shields. In return, verdant whisps roared out from their muzzles and splashed against Imperial hulls. The sound of the hypervelocity cannons and mass drivers as they thumped out shell after shell sent the chill of battle down the Galidraani's spine.

"Status on the 52nd?" Her attention split for a moment.

"They're on the ground! Reinforcing the 7th!"

"Good, steady fire!"

The Armada held its place, as no doubt by now Munin and the Mandalorians have made it to the shipyards themselves. Fiolette turned her attention back to the battle at hand to watch as both X-Wing and TIE Fighter careened into one another creating a glittering array of fireworks for either set of fleets. "Full broadside!" the Rear Admiral ordered, "and tell Pavanos to keep watch for those missiles!"

"Of course, Commander Pavanos - Captain Sentongo we've got incoming!"

"Copy, Ghoul-1 on the move!"

 

[Allyson Locke]

Objective: Destroy Corporate Assets
Allies: Mon Cal, SJO [member="Rick Kaloo"] @Sko’saht
Enemies: Sith

The second Mantis bomber followed the first in a tight formation. They dropped out of hyperspace and Allyson kept close to Sko’saht. She personally hadn’t worked with the Verpine before, but there had been good things said about him. Her focus now was mostly on the bomber she piloted. There was a rush with the bomber, it had been some time since she had flown one and their mission today was straight forward. Armed with one goal in mind, destroy all of Rick’s facilities.

It was far different than flying an X-Wing and the Corellian did her best not to show her excitement. Emotions like that could be off putting to both the owner of the facilities and the Verpine she was wingmaning for. Either way, she smiled through the visor of her helmet and continued to push the bomber to its limit. The chittering of the Verpine came over the comms and Allyson nodded. “Roger that.” Hands carefully waved over the panel as she got her own readings through the force on the ship.

They would make this quick and be home by supper.

 

[Tubal Sahon]

OBJECTIVE: II- SEIZE MON CALAMARI SHIPYARDS
LOCATION: ON STATION, UNKNOWN SECTION
ENEMIES: PLS
TAGS: [member="Sian Jerikao"]
Post #3
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Tubal Raised a bloody fist up to his face, lingering on it. How long had it been since he had seen his own blood? So putrid and dark. The tower shook himself from his little trance. It was just bloody knuckles, that was all. It meant that he was fighting like any true warrior would. But still, he was not sated. He needed more to kill.

This endeavor was not without its costs. Most of his contingent of droids and soldiers were either dead or turned to slag. Only about five of them remained aside from himself. Tubal knew that performance was pitiful. At least he didn't have to number himself among the dead. They should have fought harder if they wanted to live. He held not pity for them.

He turned his eyes to the newly captured engineers. If were up to him, he would have killed them. Sacrifices unto the pyre, but perhaps that was just the 'old' him wanting to crawl back up to the surface. Some of them were brave and stoic in the face of defeat. He had executed some of the guards and soldiers that had been protecting them, but he had yet to lay a finger on any of them. Perhaps those brave ones knew that they were more valuable in the eyes of the Sith, perhaps not. One of them looked like he was about to piss his pants in fear. He liked those kind. He liked watching them squirm.

Tubal looked over to that one. The orders were that they just needed to capture the engineers. Never said that he couldn't rough them up a little. He clenched his teeth. If the frightened one was going to keep it up Tubal was going to give him something to really cry about. Did he really need a few of his toes to do his job? Tubal would have smiled a wicked grin if he had lips. His fingers began to twitch.

The Tower was about to walk forward when his comms started beeping. With a frustrated sigh, he held up the thing in his palm. The holographic image of some younger acolyte sprung up before him. He looked desperate, like he had fallen into some trap. LIKE HE WAS ABOUT TO HAVE THE FIGHT OF HIS LIFE! His call was a simple plea for help from anyone that could.

Tubal audibly grit his teeth. To be outnumbered and overwhelmed wasn't something that he had ever shirked away from. It was an opportunity to show one's superiority to the enemy and peers, to plea for help showed a lack of tenacity! Tubal sighed with a slight growl. "Sian. If fate is kind perhaps I am close enough. Tell me your position, boy!" Tubal would wait for a response. Hopefully one would be given. If he was nearby, he would, perhaps, consider assisting him. "Do not shirk this opportunity to prove yourself! Fight like the cornered hound you are! I will be on my way. Those fish had better be slain by the time I get there!"

Tubal would close the communications without confirmation from the acolyte. With a look to one of the soldiers, he would give them a simple command. "Keep guard on them, even if it means your lives!" The soldier gave an affirmation and Tubal would be on his way, leaving the room that he was currently in. Picking the blaster off a dead Sith soldier somewhere down the hall, Tubal prepared himself. He would go alone. No more extra baggage to take care of.

 

[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: Ground-level shelter
Gear: Armor

On their path through the city, weaving through building corridors and empty alleyways, the boy hadn’t told the man his story. But he had held it like an open book at the foreground of his mind, easy to interpret for someone who was looking. And Reverance was looking.

Yos Karina, but pronounced with a strong ‘i.’ Like someone had taken the -sky and put it between the -car and -na. Reverance could see it, the boy telling others how to pronounce his surname, as they went through introductions at school. His father was a proud engineer, working for the local firms on schematics and design. His mother was a successful artist in a world that didn’t particularly endorse the career path, which felt like a triumph on its own. It was during memories of the boy watching his mother paint that Reverance realized it was a home, not a museum, where he had found Yos.

Yos had aspirations to merge the two paths of his parents, planning to go to Architecture school and design grand buildings that worked as functional exhibits. The former Sith Lord wondered if that would ever come to fruition.

The frosted glass of the shelter squealed open, knocking dust from the upper railing to the duracrete steps below. Guided by the boy, Reverance walked in and fixed his gaze on fifteen Calamarians. That was an estimate but he did a quick mental count to confirm - close enough.

“Who...who is this, Yos?” His mother.

“Oh, this is no one. He has clams!” Yos tried to walk towards them but found his hand still firmly clasped in the man's grip.

“How did you find us? How did you find Yos?” His father.

“I looked. It's wasn't hard.” Reverance replied coldly, squinting his single eye. The room smelled of sweat and fear, the overhead lamps rattled and flickered with every splash of the beasts outside these walls, and the roof hung a half meter too low. Swinging back with his helmet, he smashed the emergency lock button into place, sealing the room with an abrupt metal shutter. “That’s a stupid place for that button.” He said as he tossed the helmet to the floor. It rolled like it was filled with bricks, coming to an abrupt halt. “I would have put it in the back.”

He turned from the button back to the group and the father, shaking, had leveled a pistol towards him. It rattled in his hands, clicking and clacking and threatening to leap from his hands. “You get one chance.” Reverance breathed in, cold and calculating. Lifting his black hand to his forehead, the voxyn nails extracted, and he cut a dimple into his own forehead. “One shot. Don’t miss.” Please.

He looked down at the boy and smiled. “You remember what I said?”

“That I’ll be fine if I’m with you?” The boy responded with a concerned expression, like he knew this path was proper but was dogged with uncertainty.

“Right.” Reverance looked back towards the father. “Pull the hammer, pull the trigger. You don’t have long.” Before the toxin kicks in.

 

[Romi Jade]

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Mon Cala
Coral City
WITH: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Narses"] [member="Isar Kislo"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Loske Matson"]
OBJECTIVE: I/IV: Confronting [member="Taeli Raaf"] and [member="Reverance"]

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Spoiler

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

"Alright...so we're doing this." Romi pulled her lightsaber.

Hiss-crack!

Her blade came up in a guard high by her right ear, branding a white and scarlet sheen over the surface of her skin. Her eyes bounced out over the expanse of the ocean, where the terrible deep roars echoed; they grew louder and more frequent. Slowly, her eyes slid back...resting on Taeli.

There was nothing else worth saying anyway, her autopilot kicked in. Stepping back, she shifted her weight onto her back leg. She Force-leapt the distance between them, slashing down right to left, attacking with both hands. It was majority power, and not much finesse. Normally, she would never have risked such an all-out attack against an opponent like this but these circumstances were a bit different.

She had every intention of beating defense Taeli would mount down with her lightsaber. But was aware of her power...it may not even develop the way she intended. She was fully aware that she might not connect initially, but she was going for the kill....


Betraying no sense of weakness from her debilitating illness, it was known by a few that this Jedi...would come in for the kill, again and again, until her opponent was worn down and too weak to fend her off.

But in this instance, that overconfidence could possibly cost her...

 

[Loske Treicolt]

On the Landing Pad, assisting evacuation
Flying: Search and Rescue Craft
With: Isar Kislohttp://starwarsrp.net/user/11087-isar-kislo/http://starwarsrp.net/user/11087-isar-kislo/
Objective: I/IV

On the ground, Loske sat in the cockpit while the medical crew ushered from the transport to assist. Several new bodies were added. All the while, the lithe pilot was clutching the dashboard with a wan expression.

"Are you alright?" The co-pilot asked, bracing a hand against her shoulder.

A small shake of her head communicated the confirmation of her discomfort. There were two reasons Loske was Skyborn.
One: She had literally been bred for it.
Two: Being on the ground when there was so much death messed with her clone DNA. It overstressed her to the point of feeling nauseous.

"I'm not going to be much use to you down here." Loske confirmed, moving her arm to reach for her terminal. Once produced, she keyed in a few instructions. "I have to get out of here."

With Isar off the ship and no longer able to stabilize her, her miscalculated chemicals were going insane. The proximity of life ending was too much and too near.

The commands cued up her AI droid, Frank, who was above the clouds, to deploy her X-Wing and fly it down to her.

"You're abandoning?"

"No, I'm doing something else useful." She leveraged out of the pilot's seat and bumped her fist against the frigate's roof. "You're going to need some cover for this hunk of help." A knowing simper crossed her lips and she set up the dashboard for the co-pilot to take over. "I'll be right around you."

The starfighter pilot then crossed several paces to the hull, squeezing out between the onslought of new people boarding the vessel and onto the platform, squinting up into the plasma-filled sky for a tell-tale shape. It was a handful of anxiety-ridden moments before the underbelly of her craft perused down to the nearby area. Frank communicated via terminal that this was as close as he could get. It was close enough that he could see the incredulous look his master was giving him as she prepared herself for closing the proximity as he hovered next to the platform. You've got to be kidding me.

No sooner scolded than done, the youth vaulted from her spot on the platform into the air and across to the wing of her ship, scrambling to clutch it and haul herself up and skip over to the cockpit, where she sidled in quite nicely. Yanking her helmet on her head and closing the canopy, she grinned. Her stomach still wretched, but the proper amount of adrenaline was now pumping to subside it. "Hey baby." She greeted the astromech.

"We're on cover duty now, my friend." Just then, she got a comm from [member="Coren Starchaser"]. She responded: "About to be in the air, what presents do I get today?"

[member="Keira Cerdulan"]

 

[LT-137]

Objective One: Coral City - Mon Calamari
Engaging: [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"].

Captain Pergas Noern was a Career Soldier, who spent his entire life in the service of a noble ideal and fighting against those who would consider themselves Tyrants; who sought to press their indomitable upon others. His dark, chitinous flesh was marred with the many scars of battle, lending credence to the stories he often told his ranking lessers. The man had survived much of the horrors that the Galaxy sought to throw at him and somehow managed to live to tell the tale about it all afterwards. He was considered to be lucky amongst his comrades, and swathes of his fellow soldier’s flocked to his banner whenever the Captain called. They knew that with their good luck charm held close, they’d be able to weather whatever storm came their way.

However, when the Mon Cala Federation saw fit to bring in the dregs of the Leagues of Voss and take up their fight - things would change. This watery world had drawn the attention of the Sith Emperor, and his Empire thereafter; meaning that war would soon be upon them - one that would see many worlds devastated in the fires of that one man’s ambition. It was unlikely that even the storied defenders of Dac would be capable of surviving the coming onslaught. Yet, that didn’t darken the Captain’s hopes. He couldn’t crumble to despair, like many of those within the hierarchy of the Federation, as his subordinates rallied to him like a beacon. If he was gone, then who was to say what would happen next?

It was likely that the soldiers under his command would break, and take to the stars in the hopes of escaping the inevitable Sith-Imperial retribution. Some would likely make it to friendly ports, where they would be able to live out the rest of their days in relative peace and fight another day. The rest would succumb to panic in the attempt, as the icy tendrils of fear took hold. They’d throw themselves onto the blades and blasters of the Sith Empire, leaving a lasting impression of cowardice on those that managed to survive.

Pergas breathed in deeply, seeking to stifle his present train of thought before it took root within the grey matter of his mind. Such dark notions were ill-befitting of a commanding officer, let alone one of the noblest species in the Galaxy. Besides, as his bulbous eyes turned towards the crackling monitors nearby, he had more pressing engagements to take care of. The day of reckoning had come, and the military might of the Sith Empire found itself hanging over his homeworld with hints of violence glinting in their distant eyes. Coral City’s streets were rife with hundreds, if not thousands of enemy soldiers that managed to punch through their defensive cordon - and the Captain found himself operating as the critical lynchpin to their planet’s defence.

For that reason alone, he became a target for assassination - and already thwarted several attempts on his life already. The most recent having been a mere moment before the present when an enemy sniper saw fit to engage his command staff in battle, before plunging to his death with a smoking hole between his eyes.

The Captain exhaled, as his attention was drawn towards a screen that showcased his command post’s exterior - where there were several armed soldiers situated behind nearly a dozen barricades that protected them from harm. Well, at least they should’ve - as an ochre beam of coruscating energy lanced into, and through the duracrete barrier, coring through one of his soldiers in a heartbeat. Although there was no sound, the Captain could only imagine that the man was screaming as he burned from the inside out, before collapsing into an ashen pile of flaking flesh. The others fell in quick order; taken down by that same ochre beam or impaled by a plasmatic quarrel. It was over, almost as soon as it began. Pergas was astounded, and his chitinous jaw was left agape as he struggled to comprehend how his men, combat veterans, were taken out in the span of seconds.

Then, as the monitor flickered - the answer became clear. The Sun Guards of the Golden Company moved into the frame, as swift as ethereal wraiths. These gilded warriors moved through his soldiers like they weren’t even there, cutting down whoever stood in their way with ease; snuffing out their life’s experiences in an instant. Nearly a company of his best men were slaughtered by five men, clad in gold. It was impossible! They should’ve been slain before they entered the facility, cut down by the various emplacement webs that ringed the perimeter of his forward command post. He felt a sliver of terror spear through the centre of his being and caused him to rush away from the monitors. Maybe if he placed more bodies between him and these warriors, then he would be able to survive their assault.

However, such hopes were quickly dashed as he turned a corner to find himself face to face with a Sun Guard - whose crested helm was painted with the ichorous blood of his fallen comrades.

“With your death,” Khonsu snarled, as he withdrew his crystalline blade from the corpse of a slain Calamari soldier. “Coral City shall fall...”​

 

[Reverance]

Objective: I/IV
Objective Defined: Kill or be killed
Enemies: @Everyone
Location: Ground-level shelter
Gear: Armor

There was never a thing like dark or light. Good or evil. It was all a lie, the sort that stood in the background of cosmic balance. The very notion that someone could do right or wrong, dropped against the scales of stars igniting and planets being engulfed by wayward asteroids, it was laughable. Like drops in the bucket, Reverance had realized long ago that there was no sense in doing good or doing bad. There was only ever one drive that stood above all others…

To survive.

He lurched forward with a blinding speed. The fathered squeezed the trigger twice and the muzzle danced from the first bullet, stabilized with the second. One round hit the man in the chest, the other ricocheted off his armor and swung wide. It was everything Reverance could do to keep the boy from being hit by the slug.

Breathing in heavy, he sighed with irritation. Not because they had shot him, but because they didn’t aim just a bit higher. His crimson eye ignited beneath the veil of the voxyn adrenaline shot and he stared at the boy, his blackened harm gulping out blood where the slug entered.

“I said you’d be fine…”

“I...didn’t mean to…” The father quivered as he dropped the pistol, metallic rung hollow against the duracrete floor. “I...I…”

“You never wanted him.” Reverance replied, eye moving from the boy to his parents. “Not when you had a big contract coming up. The universal package. Catchy title for the firm.” The voxyn arm wheezed as it pushed the bullet down through the muscles. “And you…” The mother shook her head but said nothing. “He always got in the way, didn’t he? Did you ever tell your husband that you considered killing Yos before he was born?”

“Did you try to shoot me?” Yos yelled, angrily. Reverance could feel it pulsate from the flesh, like a fever that just wouldn’t quit. He breathed in as he slipped the vong saber from the pincers on his back. But the father was too shocked to say anything. Either the sight of impending death, or the shock of the deceit of his wife, was enough to send him over. But Reverance would have none of it. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t consider it either.”

He looked towards the boy with a neutral expression. “Close your eyes, Yos. These people were never your family. And they never cared about your safety. Otherwise...they would have never left you.”

The boy lifted his hands to cover the golden orbs and crumpled into a corner.

“You don’t have...you don’t have to do this…” The father uttered as he stepped back.

“Without this, I have nothing.” Reverance stated coldly as the orange blade poured out of the saber. The voxyn hand curled into a fist and released, dropping the slug to the ground. “It’s all I’ve ever been good at.”

He approached and lifted the saber high, the crowd moving against the wall. He could feel their hope, that this strike would come for someone else. But everyone would get their turn.

“You should have aimed higher!”

 

[Sian Jerikao]

"Your motivation is grossly appreciated!"

A mix of politeness and a grunting sass, he made a semi-wild dive into his next bit of cover. Flinging the blaster had been using moments before as some makeshift projectile, dead and out of ammo. Well, it was exhilarating to say the least. A fine test of skills and abilities, panting even so slightly the Anzat flicked a switch on his comm. The thing serving as a beacon for the beast, or man, on the other side. Sian had no intention of dying here today.

And he'd rather not lose his "strikingly good looks" to blaster fire anyhow.

Snarling ever so slightly to himself as he cut his comm, throwing it to a more well defended position to serve as his little flaring "help me!" an annoying prospect to be sure, but what was necessary was simply what was necessary. His time to prove himself would come, but he intended to make something out of this. Clenching his fist he let the force flow through him, to truly attempt to tap into this abilities for something to stall his foes.

Raising from his position Sian extended his hands and roared, quite literally, just let out his annoyance into the force: channel that rage into power. A wave of force energy staggered a handful of the seemingly unending horde of defenders trying to stop him from breaching any further. Staggering as he was shot in the shoulder for his little display, a hiss coming from him before he ducked back into cover.

So maybe fancy little force displays weren't always the way to go.

[member="Tubal Sahon"]

 

[Keira Cerdulan]

"Damn!"

Keira could only hope she could be as lucky as some of the other pilots zipping around the battle in space. another explosion rocked the battlefield as a Capital ship exploded into some starfighter sized pieces of shrapnel flew across space. One of the pilots who Keira had been flying alongside being unlucky enough to get shredded to bits as she made a sharp veer away from the fighting. Immediately having to go right down in a spiraling dive to avoid being blasted to slag by another enemy vessel.

She felt like this might be a smidge bit too lively for her liking. But it was a fine enough introduction to what she would be facing as the leader of her Fighters: fighters that had ended up scattering across the entire battle...hm. Maybe there was still bits to learn.

She at least got lucky and caught two of the defending Starfighters by surprise, with a click her laser cannons flared to life and blew the starfighter into nothing but a nice cloud of flames and debris. It's friend tried to pull away but not fast enough for Keira's skill when in the cockpit, her cannons quickly turned on it and sent the vessel into a tumbling dive into an enemy corvette. A damn fine shot, if she could say so herself.

Of course she could pick up that even more fighters were coming from Coral City, seemed the pain never ended. She could only hope her precious Interceptor came out in one piece...or well. If she could get out in one piece.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Above Coral City
Protecting evacuees ​

Awaiting confirmation from [member="Coren Starchaser"]​

Engaging [member="Keira Cerdulan"] ​

​

"Frank, baby, put some music on. This isn't a hearse."

Action playlist?

"Roger dodger."

Soon glimmik beats pumped through the cockpit and a delighted expression graced the visage of the girl behind the yoke. It was a surround sound, any comms were still directly pumped through her helmet and into her ears. Time for the second act of the day -- she'd already broken through the atmosphere, now it was time to play in it. Loske paired with a nearby fighter, assisting in short bursts of plasma to help them put the head on. Behind them, two TIEs followed each of them. Loske broke to starboard, the other pilot broke to port. Each maintained their tail.

Seeing the opportunity, Loske threw all discretionary power into reverse thrust and dropped about fifty meters of relative altitude. Her enemy, caught off guard, rockted past. With no skyscraper from the city in the back, Loske took her shot. The TIE fighter was not canny enough to go evasive the moment it had overshot the X-Wing.

"Amateur hour."

 

[Ghost369]

The Emperor called his Sith to battle once again and Darth Xaem heeded the call. He was hungry for the vengeance the emperor promised. The Jedi and their allies took everything from him, all his friends. Soon the man found himself boarding a star destroyer and traveling from Bastion, to Dellalt, and then Mon Cala.

As the destroyer emerged from hyperspace in the Calamari System Xaem boarded a transport ship. When the Behemoth's blast broke an opening in the Mon Calamari line Xaem's transport made its way to the planet's surface.

Xaem stared at the ocean world of Dac and thought about how beautiful it was. A shame what was about to happen to it, but if the Mon Calamari wanted to live they should have chosen the right side.

The transport passed the orbital shipyards and entered the atmosphere before landing in New Coral City. The doors opened up and Xaem, along with five other Sith activated their red lightsabers to cut apart the nearest Mon Calamari.

Mon Calamari soldiers, along with Republic troopers opened fire and the Sith troopers did the same. Xaem deflects oncoming blaster bolts for a bit before using force cloak to vanish completely. He searched through the force for a Jedi to kill, turning to the right as he felt the presence of lightsiders.

"Jedi." Xaem whispered to himself as he began walking in their direction.

There were two of them. Darth Xaem ran at the closest of the two and uncloaked as he stabbed them through the gut with his reignited lightsaber. He spun right, to the left as he pulled his blade from the dying Jedi and clashed sabers with the next.

This Jedi tried to force push him, but Xaem saw this coming and avoided it. The Sith retaliated by attempting to slash at his enemy's gut, but as they moved to block Xaem extinguished his lightsaber. This unbalanced the Jedi and caused him to overstep, leaving himself defenseless. Reactivating his lightsaber the Sith slashed through his gut as intended and the Jedi collapsed.

"So disappointing." Xaem said slowly approaching the two dying Jedi, "Oh well."

He unleashed a volley of lightning at them before slashing across one of their necks and stabbing the other down through the chest.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Well, at least the had back up. Starchaser was calling the Force to him, the beasts seemed sentient enough. That meant they had to be Sith spawn, it was what he had seen before. And if the Sith were here, that meant [member="Taeli Raaf"] was among them. “See what you can do about them, Rick… I’ll see what I can do from here.” And then there were the ships. Frakking Corellian Hell, this was not his day. The Jedi Master was tracking the sea monsters through the Force waiting for his moment.

The Ven family was going to have to make do with some of the support Coren brought. The Mon Cal insurrection team had already disappeared but a part of the Alliance-in-Exile task force was designated strictly to getting the Ven family off world and back to D’Qar. The team was almost in the district of the city that had the Ven when he had first seen the monsters. Coren didn’t hear them in the affirmative that they were there. He did hear the next few lines coming from Romi though.

He heard her but the comm got cut off before he could respond. And that was when the sea monsters made their appearance.

Before igniting his saber though, he had to get the message out to the Air Patrol. “Link up with whatever friendlies we have. Transmitting coordinates, VIPs aboard these cruisers. Alliance teams are starting to untether them and they’re going to be needing a clear path to orbit… You got them?” He knew that [member="Loske Matson"] was up there. He didn't know that Rick had brought his own friends, including [member="Allyson Locke"]. The Sith were going to win the world, but they'd lose the people.

He shut the comm off from his side, it’d still receive, but the Jedi Master was doing what he did best. Moving to get a better vantage, Coren sunk into the Force, swirling the light around him, gathering it, spooling it… Only to at his earliest opportunity blast it out, in a cone, towards the monsters.

This was a world of life and light, collecting this energy was not the toll it normally was, and Coren had been practiced with it. But the monsters, seemed unaffected.

“The hell, Raaf. What monstrosity is this…” He muttered to no one but himself.