Belsavis Storm (GA v DB, BR, BE and any other sith)

[Darth Banshee]

Time 6hrs 6 minutes 6 seconds

A fleet had gathered at forest moon of Endor, they gathered to strike at Galactic Alliance. The target was Belsavis, a prison world that had a shipyard on it owned by Incom Corporation and [member="Kelly Perris"]. the plan was simple, a two pronged attack one on the prison to cause chaos, and possibly new recruits for new sith armies that where being developed. The other was to steal some XJ-Stealth Fighters, she found out that they had some sort gravity modulator, and this would be incorporated into her new fury's, so they could bypass the crystal gravity traps. They had been the bane of every stealth ship she had made, and soon that would end.

As the fleet gathered, she went to the bridge and gave short speech. We are gathered here, to show the Alliance the sith are not dead and buried, we can still gather in night and attack at will. We do not fear them, they should fear us and the oncoming storm. All force get your hyper drives ready, and on my mark Jump........ALL FORCES MAKE JUMP TO LIGHTSPEED, AND UNLEASH HELL.

Time 13hrs 30 minutes 2 seconds

The fleet jumped out of hyperspace, near the orbit of Belsavis. As they did the defences began to open fire on them, and returned fire. As they did she gave first order of the day, All landing forces, get to dropships and get ground side asap. Today the devils have come to belsavis, and they came twice as strong, and twice as fast. She then left to get on her dropship, she was going to get an X-wing. Droids where also landing in large numbers, to both attack points. So where numerous Acolytes, all trying to prove they where ready for knighthood. She boarded her drop ship, dressed in her War Armour, her saberstaff by her side, a personal shield ready to be activated, and her healing amulet next her skin.

Spoiler

[member="William Kerkov"]
[member="Teresa Shan"]
[member="Seras Goto"]
[member="Karak Ren"]
[member="Mythos"]
[member="Jorryn Fordyce"]
[member="Darth Lykos"]
[member="Darth Ferus"]
[member="Adi Rost"]
[member="Ajarod Shova"]
[member="Clovis Torcularis"]
[member="Crucifere Sin"]
[member="Darth Manah"]
[member="Darth Odium"]
[member="Darth Veles"]
[member="Darth Venefica"]
[member="Dredge"]
[member="Ket Van-Derveld"]
[member="Noda Fir"]
[member="Thid Qaal"]
[member="TI-1027"]
[member="Txon Taronyu"]
[member="Ultimatum"]

OOC link

 

[Ajarod Shova]

It was a strange feeling, to be stuck between freedom and servitude. Ajarod had been a slave for so long that any ability to act on his own seemed a glorious liberation. As a Sith Acolyte, he had been given a weapon, a starship, and the right to participate in battle as he saw fit. It was more liberty than he had known in a decade. And yet it was tempered by the knowledge that he still had a master, still served the designs of another. He was still only a pawn.

But that was the direction life had taken him, and he had learned long ago to adapt if he wanted to stay alive. Now, he would have to adapt to his first experiences with warfare. He found himself crammed into the hold of a dropship, surrounded on all sides by a battalion of cold, unfeeling war droids. Long hours in hyperspace as they traveled from Endor to Belsavis cramped his muscles. The fear that comes before a first battle sat heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He rolled his lightsaber over and over between his palms, marveling at the weapon. It was simple, rough, quickly made, the weapon of an expendable Sith that had been produced to pass through the hands of generations of cannon fodder, but to him it was so much more. Even crudely made, it represented all that he had gained in the past few weeks - and all that he would have to fight to hold on to. Against the odds, he intended to be the weapon's last owner.

The dropship shuddered as it reverted to realspace - and then almost immediately began to shake violently under the bombardment of Belsavis's defenses. Ajarod clenched his fist around his saber, its harsh lines digging into his palm, and hoped against hope that his story would not end right there in a ball of burning plasma. The dropship was windowless; he could not tell how many droid transports, and how many acolytes aboard them, were being vaporized in the assault.

He reached out to the Force to steady himself, harnessing his fear into an iron will to survive. He had been assigned to lead these droids against the prison below, breaking it open and recruiting the convicts as new and brutal soldiers of the Dark Brotherhood. It was all an elaborate distraction from the true purpose of his masters, striking the shipyards above, but it was his mission. And if he survived the next few minutes, he intended to see it through.

 

[Vaulkhar]

Allies: Sith | [member="Darth Eversor"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance
Objective: Release the Prisoners, drag them back kicking and screaming to Panatha.
Location: Moving towards the surface of Belsavis.

Vaulkhar stood aboard one of the very drop shifts that currently released itself from the main fleet, beginning it's descent towards Belsavis. There were dozens of ships all moving towards the surface with hundreds of soldiers and mercenaries, all moving in the direction of the planet. He currently stood aboard said ship, concealing himself through the force so he appeared as just another, simple drop ship with nothing to hide within. At his back stood nearly twenty soldiers, all of which were armed to the teeth with various blasters and other belongings for killing. His mind was on the coming battle, his focus on the descent. As they moved closer to the planet, it was becoming more and more clear he wasn't here for the objective. But rather to slaughter those of the Galactic Alliance.

Ever since the botched attempt at Naboo by his crew, he came to hate the fools who were growing in power. As the years have passed and the Galactic Alliance have become stronger, his hatred of them has only grown along with them. His desire was to release the prisoners and drag them back to his father, where they would be whipped into submission and trained to become proper killing machines, for his empire. So he stood waiting aboard the drop ship in waiting.

His gaze eventually moved towards another man within the vessel, another Force User like himself. That being [member="Darth Eversor"]. Together they joined [member="Darth Banshee"] and her fleet in the hopes of bringing great harm to the Galactic Alliance. But on top of that, they came with their own, ulterior motives in the hopes of strengthening that whom they serve. The heavily armored executioner of his father, Kaine Zambrano, stood within the shadows of the vessel, clearly waiting and seething within his own rage. It was a rather terrifying sight, Vaulkhar would have to admit to himself. Turning away, he looked back towards the cockpit where the planet's surface was growing closer.

Soon...

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Ajarod Shova"] [member="Vaulkhar"]

An ocean of darkness pierced by pins of light, that's what space was. A perfect simile for the galaxy, and in that darkness terrible things dwelt...terrible things. He had often avoided Sith. They were disgusting little creatures lurking about clawing for scraps of power but then even disgusting creatures could be useful.

His ship, if the ravaged piece of space debris could be called such, drifted toward the world of the Galactic Alliance and it's pitiful mewling people. He stood watching, hungry, and waiting to feed on the lives of as many as he could.

He moved nought as the wreck drew nearer the world and into reach of his drop pods. Only when the target prison was in range did he show signs of the life that still animated what should have long since been dead, but what is dead, may never die.

He moved to the drop pods and four soft thumps were felt through the ship. None of the pods contained life support. And all were aimed at the prison grounds.

 

[Ultimatum]

Ultimatum was racing around to keep up with the changing plan for his part in the assault. At first he was to have led an attack force into the prison, his familiarity with the facility from a previous incursion would have aided considerably. However, apparently his expertise in programs and construction were wanted for the theft of ships. Thus he had had to rush to change the intended target to coincide with the new plan.

Ultimatum set his ship to follow [member="Darth Banshee"] to the enemy. He wanted to avoid the appearance of being special in this at all. Even though he was utilizing a body and ship that was impossible to connect with his actual being, the droid feared that someone would attempt to connect the attack here to him on Mustafar. There would be little to no proof of such, however there was always a possibility, no matter how slight, in his mind. A different body made on a different world, he decided to use a different coding system for this body, which would hopefully be the permanent one for his relations with the Sith.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Roth shuddered suddenly, sitting upright in his bunk. Darkness was coming, darkness as deep as a black hole, and they were in danger. He stood, grabbing his lightsaber and flight jacket, rushing out into the corridors, shouldering his way past other members of the Alliance fleet. Suddenly alarms blared and everyone paused, before breaking into a jog to their positions. That was the call for battle stations. Roth broke into a run, boots echoing against the corridor floors. This patrol along the Alliance-First Order border had suddenly gotten much more interesting.

Attention all personnel: Sith assault group approaching Belsavis. All battle groups move to intercept. Starfighters deploy to intercept drop-ships.

"Flight Officer," Roth called into the comm, pulling on his jacket over his flight-suit, "Prep the Knight class fighters for my squadron." He barely noted the affirmation as he ran into the hangar, sending a message to Rogue Squadron. They'd need the best they could get for this one. Which was absolutely the Wild Knights and also the Rogues.

[member="Alexandra Russo"]- This is Captain Roth Tillian of the Wild Knight Squadron, en route to intercept at Belsavis. Rogues available for rendezvous?

His own pilots were running onto the flight deck.

Hyperspace jump in T-10.

That didn't leave enough time for pre-deployment before the hyperspace jump. They'd deploy after reversion to real space in the Belsavis system. Roth stepped aside as technicians and droids flurried around the fighters, checking engines, armaments, and systems. His pilots gathered around him, all Force sensitives and experienced pilots. He'd need to warn them of the darkness he'd felt, but looking at a few of their faces, they felt the same. He nodded and slipped on his helmet.

"Gather around knights," His voice was calm, but grim. Unusual for the star-jockey. "This is the largest Sith incursion force we've seen in a significant amount of time. Last one I saw this big was when they hit Sullust." There were nods and murmurs. They'd been there for Sullust, all the way back at the beginning. "I sense a great darkness coming to the planet, so we need to be at the top of our game."

Now all they could do was wait until reversion.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Location: En route to Belsavis
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Sith


Bridge, Unyielding-class Command Cruiser Rebel's Hope

Absentmindedly yanking on the chafing collar of his new uniform, Captain Zark Pulsar scanned the austere bridge and its bright young officers with a disapproving look. Operating with what he was sure was clockwork perfection, he had been amazed at how quickly they had adjusted to him as if hardly anything had changed at all. A captain could not ask for a finer posting, and Zark was miserable. He missed his old bridge, he missed his old crew. He missed not having to wear this damned uniform, ignoring the disapproving glare from his XO as he unfastened the collar. Even that mild rebellion depressed him.

He felt the disturbance, the Force calling out to him faintly. Gripping the railing he stood behind a little tighter, he scowled softly and ignored it.

"Something wrong...Captain?" his XO, Commander Stazi, had caught the look. The Duros had been quick to pounce these past few days, although Zark supposed he couldn't blame the man. By all rights, the Rebel's Hope should have been his until GA brass had decided to bring in some fresh blood.

"Oh, I would imagine so, Commander," was all Zark offered in response, but when Mazik's penetrating stare refused to relent he sighed and added, "I am certain he will be along shortly with the specifics."

"He? Captain-" Stazi was cut off by a somehow deeper silence that fell over the bridge.

No eyes raised from their stations save the Captain and his executive officer, but Zark could feel all the attention in the room on the menacing looking robotic figure that had just exited the bridge turbolift. In truth, it was no robot at all, but the ship's new cyborg operations officer, and in another life Jedi Knight Zark's padawan apprentice.

"Lieutenant?" the XO said as Arix approached them, though in truth Arix's rank was probably even more nebulous than Zark's, "I thought you were down with Lieutenant Ain in engineering."

"Trouble coming," was all the young Jedi offered in explanation, the life support suit distorting his voice.

"Oh?"

It was all Stazi had time for before a young ensign approached him with a datapad. The strong Duros brow furrowed slightly as he read its contents, and he looked back up at the two, "Incoming com traffic from Wild Knight Squadron, addressed to Commander Russo. Matches scattered reports we have been getting about possible traffic near the Belsavis system. We can be there within the hour."

"Lets not keep the Knights waiting, then," Zark said, a toothy grin betraying how radically the news had altered his mood, "Get Blue and Grey Leader on the line, see if they are still in the sector flying training ops. Relay the message to Russo and her Rogues, and have the mess send over a bottle from my private stock, with my compliments, to await their safe return. Helm! Set a course for Belsavis, and Mister Stazi?"

"Sir?"

"Beat to quarters, if you please."

"Aye, sir!" the mocking tone gone this time as the commander too transformed, "Sound general quarters! You heard the captain!"

"You felt it too," Arix said when they were more alone, and it wasn't a question, "You didn't warn him?"

"A few extra seconds wouldn't have made any difference," the Jedi Knight offered publicly in way of explanation.

Privately, he wished the Force would just leave him alone.


Flight Deck, Rebel's Hope

Deck Chief Isaac Cain had them right were he wanted them.

"Alright, alright! Find the lady, come on, don't be shy!"

An unused deck of sabacc cards lay scattered at his side, three cards were prominently displayed on the crate before him as he covered them with cups from the mess. Rotating them in and out, slowly at first, his hands moved faster and faster until they were almost a blur. Then, as quickly as he began, the Korunnai crewman stopped mixing them up.

"Alright now, where's the lady?"

An eager young pilot jabbed his finger out at the center cup. With a dramatic stage wince, Cain raised the cup to reveal not the Queen, but the Idiot.

"Talk about yer Idiot's Arrays! Can't win em all, boyo. Credit chits on the table, come on, don't be a bad sport. Now, find the lady, who's next-"

Klaxons began to blare, and for an irrational moment the Chief thought they were sirens. He resisted the habitual urge to grab his winnings and make a dash for it, and regretted it when the pilots and crew around him had the same general idea, scraping away their side bets and the few modest winnings Cain had allowed to keep the con interesting, and when they were done there were decidedly less credits on the crate than he felt there should be. Isaac sighed.

"Can never win..." he mumbled, then swept the rest of the credits into his satchel and hoisted himself to his feet, looking for someone to lay into, "Alright you sleemos! You know the drill, get these birds topped off and get your asses into gear for pre-flight checks! Get those dropships squared away and out of my lanes, we need the whole deck for possible damaged craft!"



Rogue Squadron

Spoiler

Rogue One/CO – Commander [member="Alexandra Russo"] “Alleycat”
Rogue Two – Flight Officer [member="Aedan Lochlan"] “Beardface” [OCC LOA]
Rogue Three – Flight Officer [member="Tela Uolmi"] “Glitz”
Rogue Four – Vacant
Rogue Five – Lieutenant [member="Loske Matson"] [OCC LOA]
Rogue Six – Flight Officier [member="Cal Sedaire"]
Rogue Seven - Lieutenant [member="Choli Vyn"] “Smalls”
Rogue Eight – Flight Officer [member="Vale Endriss"] "Eight Ball"
Rogue Nine/XO – Lieutenant Commander [member="Asmus Janes"] “Slick”
Rogue Ten – Vacant
Rogue Eleven – Vacant
Rogue Twelve – Flight Officer [member="Lucius Varad"] “Songbird”
Rogue Thirteen – Flight Officer [member="Allyson Locke"] “Lucky”
Rogue Fourteen – Lieutenant [member="Owen Holst"] “Pie”
Rogue Fifteen – Vacant
Rogue Sixteen – Vacant
Rogue Seventeen – Flight Officer [member="Devyn Lynton"]
Rogue Eighteen – Vacant
Rebel's Hope CO - Captain Zark Pulsar

 

[Alexandra Porte]

Location: En route to Belsavis aboard the Rebel's Hope.
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemy: Sith

~Commander Russo's Quarters~

It was supposed to be Rogue Squadron's night rotation, but Alleycat was wide awake sitting at the small desk in her quarters going over reports sipping a mug of hot caf with four creams as usual. She was dressed down wearing her standard underthings of a sport bra and panty set with a tunic over them that was one of [member="Kahne Porte"]'s she'd lifted from the Jedi Master last time the two were together. The brunette's feet were socked as the metal decking was cold to touch, and well it was a learned pilot's habit to always wear them in case one was called to scramble from their bunk; one less thing to slip on in the hurried rush to get to the hangar bay. Rogue Leader's orange-rebel flight suit was hanging upon a hook on the back of her footlocker door with her black boots sitting neatly below. The Commander's flight jacket was draped on the back of the desk chair she sat in and other gear was set out by the hatch as well.

Her comm buzzed just as the klaxons went off. The Taanabian sighed heavily as the voice on the other end was drowned out by the alarms indicating the ship was at battle stations, though at least the comm officer was smart enough to repeat the message that [member="Roth Tillian"] and his Wild Knights were requesting assistance.

"Roger that. Russo out."

There was a slight vibration noted under her feet as Alexandra stood to get dressed that meant the ship was getting ready to make a jump. Good that meant Rogues had a couple extra minutes to get situated on the flight deck.

~Hangar Bay~

Rusty was already loaded into Rogue One and the T-70's pre-flight was done by the time Alleycat got to the hangar. The long-legged brunette climbed up the attached ladder with well practiced ease and dropped down onto the pilot couch, pulling the crash webbing into place with muscle memory as the transparisteel canopy closed and sealed the X-wing's cockpit. Flipping switches the flight console came alive, then she toggled to the squadron's frequency. She gave the hangar tech a thumbs up as he pulled the ladder away before squawking the mic.

[ This is Rogue Leader. Call it in Rogues. ] Alex keyed over the comm unit via her helmet. Brandy brown eyes watched through the front viewport one by one her pilots mounting their ships, then she switched over to the combat channel for Rebel's Hope.

[ Flight Control, this is Rogue One. Rogue Squadron is standing by for launch. Got an updated sitrep for us yet? ]

---

Spoiler

Rogue Squadron
[member="Alexandra Russo"] 1, [member="Aedan Lochlan"] 2, [member="Tela Uolmi"] 3, [member="Loske Matson"] 5, [member="Cal Sedaire"] 6, [member="Choli Vyn"] 7, [member="Vale Endriss"] 8, [member="Asmus Janes"] 9, [member="Lucius Varad"] 12, [member="Allyson Locke"] 13, [member="Owen Holst"] 14, [member="Devyn Lynton"] 17, Ship Captain [member="Zark"] Pulsar

[member="Astarii Saren"], [member="Kelly Perris"], any other GA peeps joining

 

[Darth Eversor]

The Light is destined to perish, fleeting souls that cling to desperation. ​

​

There is no pity or mercy for you.​

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zldCzWTuan8​

​

The approach to Belsavis was growing nearer, and the darkness being harbored on the ship shared with another of Kaine Zambrano's offspring was festering like an infected wound. Darth Eversor stared out the cockpit with a piercing, hollowing gaze that would consume the planet they encroached with thoughts of vindication and absolution. The visions and desires of a twisted follower of the God-King longing to become fleshed out and realized upon the corpses of those self-damning enough to salute and serve a cause that would one day become dust. ​

​

Clad in dark with cape draping the back of his greaves, the royal executioner of the God-King caressed the hilt of his warblade, the past blood staining the corrupt metal like a mural of foreboding tales soon to amass with more carnage and gore than those awaiting fate below would ever understand. Sickly green eyes unblinking behind a horned helmet continued their deadlocked stare on the realm just seemingly out of reach. ​

​

He turned to the boy, the offspring.​

​

"...Today you shall learn what it is to reap life unfit to live. It is not satisfying...no. It is a gluttony and a delicacy, and you shall gorge yourself full on the blood and life leaving the bodies of our enemies. A feast..."​

​

Soon their arrival was to be, and soon would death walk among the Galactic Alliance. ​

​

For whom the bell tolls, unguarded to fate's advancement. Not favored or spared from an end to be most gruesome and scarring. The Black Empire would send its regards as to what it thought of these fools in the form of malice and total obliteration. ​

​

The executioner had come, and there were sins to pay.​

​

Allies: Sith | [member="Vaulkhar"]

 

[Vaulkhar]

Allies: Sith | [member="Darth Eversor"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Objective: Free the Prisoners
Location: Upon the Surface

Vaulkhar stood behind the pilot of their drop ship, listening to Eversor speak. The man was a powerful figure, imposing, and malevolent. He reminded him much of his father, but he was not his father. The words pouring from his mouth were just as deadly as the blade strung over his back, the warblade the man utilized for executing his and their emperors enemies. It was a weapon well known back on Panatha and it was a weapon with a nasty reputation. Darth Eversor was a frightening persona, but most Zambrano's were in their own right. He was a man locked away in armor, stained with the blood of their foes. Vaulkhar's father was a man wrapped in darkness and death, exalted by his people for his slaughter of millions. And Vaulkhar himself, he was a man who lost himself in the heat of battle and bathed in the blood of his foes. The Zambrano Legacy was one that inspired fear. A fear he and Eversor would bring to the Galactic Alliance this day.

"Remember brother, we are here to slaughter those between us and the prison. Once we've released the prisoners, we will herd them into the ships and bring them off world. Our goal is to return them to Panatha to ensure the strengthening of my father's military." Vaulkhar returned his attention to the cockpit where he pressed a hand against the pilot's shoulder. He could feel the danger of the planet's defenses below as they moved towards the surface, as the landing zone pre determined. All around their drop ship, explosions and bolts rained as they drop ships opened fire on the defenses, and the defenses returned the favor. He and his brother would not fall this day to a lost bullet. "Pilot, bank right." Immediately the pilot did as suggested, executing a sharp turn before continuing his descent. Back and forth it went, Vaulkhar listing off various orders as to assure the ship did not go down.

Eventually it made it to the planet's surface, where dozens of other ships did the same. Twenty to thirty soldiers began to race out of the drop ships, weapons drawn. Some housed Sith Acolytes whom led various groups of soldiers in battle, moving towards the prison. But as the drop ship carrying Vaulkhar and Darth Eversor opened, it seemed as if the dark side itself was unleashed upon the planet. The warmth was sucked from the air and replaced with a gold, shivering grasp. Vaulkhar strode down the gunships ramp, the twenty soldiers he arrived with racing forward taking positions behind cover.

"Men!" Vaulkhar's voice called out, booming around the battlefield as it was amplified by an unknown means. "Today we take this prison! And tonight we return to Pantha, to feast and drink in the name of our Glorious God-King!" His lightsaber was ignited, the molten orange color burning in fury as Vaulkhar raced forward, blaster bolts never reaching their mark upon him as he dashed towards the large imposing walls of the prison.

 

[Darth Banshee]

Allies: @Vaulkhar [member="Darth Eversor"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Darth Odium"] [member="Ajarod Shova"]
Enemies: [member="Alexandra Russo"] @Zark @Roth Tillian [member="Kelly Perris"]
Equipment: War Armour, SaberStaff, Sith Amulet, Personal Shield.
Location: Drop Pod on route to surface, near hangers.

As drop ship left her ship, and began screeching towards the planet, she saw enemy fire knocking out others. Her dropship did have protection, but still somewhere still being destroyed on the way down. She trusted in the force to protect her, she soon felt the turbulence as her dropship entered the atmosphere. The velocity of it made the outer hull seemed to set alight as did, the dropships most looked like screaming fireballs as they came down towards the planet surface. Then she felt initial bang, and the whole thing seem to jolted, it seemed to lift her out of her seat, in reality it was the pod slowing down, then again and again. Then a large thump the drop ship had landed, mostly intact as well. She got herself unbuckled, and began to head out of the door. As she did she was met with a torrent of blaster fire, she lite up lightsaber and began defending herself from it. Soon droids where coming towards her as well, they where going to help her storm the hanger bay. She still had some distance to travel, and some Alliance security between her and the hanger. Though soon they would be dead, and she would be there.

Spoiler

[member="Adi Rost"]
[member="Ajarod Shova"]
[member="Clovis Torcularis"]
[member="Crucifere Sin"]
[member="Darth Manah"]
[member="Darth Venefica"]
[member="Noda Fir"]
[member="TI-1027"]
[member="Txon Taronyu"]
[member="Ultimatum"]

 

[LT-137]

Location: Aboard the Uldyr- Class Defense Station; "Barbican Inviolate."
Allies: The Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Resurgent Sith Rabble
Objective: Defend Belsavis from the Sith Incursion.

There were no prisoners on Belsavis, not living ones at least. The Galactic Republic, in a bygone era during the Great Galactic War, had all but abandoned their incarceration facility when the enemy was ground beneath their courageous boots. It wasn’t until mere decades from the onset of the Clone Wars that life had come to this frigid world once more. A Jedi Master by the name of Plett had settled within one of the volcanic jungle rifts, founding the community and later Jedi Refuge known as Plett’s Well. His skill with botany and ecology was put to the test, as the Republic, during their darkest hours of the Clone Wars, had seen fit to sow these volcanic jungles with flora from the world of Ithor. Silence had once again blanketed the world as the Empire replaced the Republic and ushering a new era of supposed peace and prosperity.

Nearly eight centuries had passed, and in that time much of the ancient one's technology began to fail, giving rise to the resurgence of the Esh-Kha within the sealed facility. That was when the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances, reformed after the shameful display of power by their predecessors in this new age’s Galactic Republic and their former incarnation before the Gulag Plague had taken the Galaxy by storm.

After the Federation had laid claim to this world, there was little that could be done. The Esh-Ka were slaughtered as they hopelessly sought to assault the surface world, and lay claim to their erstwhile prison. Those that survived were driven deep into the ancient Rakatan facility, deeper than any previously recorded expeditions had ever gone before. Once they had retreated deep into the seemingly endless prison, the Alliance had collapsed the tunnels and began focusing on containing the ancient malicious intelligence of the World Razor.

The seemingly sudden appearance of a Sith Flotilla in the bespeckled skies above the cold world of Belsavis was not unexpected. To be true, the Alliance had been made aware of this supposed raid long before the tumultuous moment of reversion had come.

Moving vessels in such numbers down the Sanctuary Pipeline would quickly attract all kinds of attention, let alone blare one’s intent through deeds alone. Various task forces were dispatched to a myriad of worlds that were neighboring the crucial Hyperlane, and reconnaissance vessels had been deployed where the proverbial picket line was weak. They watched as the hostile flotilla reverted from Lightspeed near the world of Bomis Kori IV, and slowly began to close the net as they slipped back into the swirling azure tunnels of the empyrean. When the word had come, after they made yet another reversion near the Watch posts at Javin and that Belsavis was their intended target, the trap had been set.

The Uldyr-Class Defence Station, “Barbican Inviolate” fired the first salvo once the hostile Sith fleet had decanted from hyperspace, unleashing three solid metallic slugs in quick succession at superluminal speeds - giving credence to an ancient Corellian law of physics and how deadly they were in space. As the first barrel began to cool, the Orbital Weapons Platform cycled through the remaining nine hypervelocity guns as the hostile fleet made their approach. As they were but one station, little could be done to stem the inevitable deluge of minor assault craft that surged past their point defense and anti-starfighter arrays, but that was where the Wild Knights and the newly arrived Rogues would come in. Their task would be intercept the dropships as they made planetfall, or destroy the assault craft once they began disgorging their troops. No matter what option and route they had chosen to take, nothing but death would await them at every turn. Be it here, on this day, or on another - years from now. Death would claim them eventually, just as it would those that swore fealty to the ideals of liberty and justice.

Pondering this fact, as the guns of his defense station fired into the enemy flotilla, Captain Mikel Patel; the current Commanding Officer of this impressive battle station had watched with vague interest as the enemy made their advance. He had been given word that they would be possibly arriving within the day by the Joint Intelligence Taskforce of the Strategic Intelligence Service and the Alliance’s own Naval Intelligence units. Silently, the man had hoped for more than what was now arrayed against him. Star Destroyers, Battlecruisers even! Instead, he was given starships that would not be able to last through one barrage from his station’s Javelins. They’d be battered as soon as the first round had hit! Let alone unable to protect themselves from the second and third shells swiftly following pursuit. That had lost it’s amusing luster after the second cannon had been fired.

Nevertheless, he did nothing to dissuade his station’s gunnery chief from relishing the simple pleasures in wreaking havoc amongst the enemy lines. At least then, someone would get their kicks from this skirmish.

++ Belsavis ​Orbital Defenses: Alliance Classification C - Quarantine Protocol ++

​

Spoiler

• Uldyr-Class Defense Station.
• Doaba-Class Defense Station.
• Protectorate Trade Station.
• Galactic Alliance Defense Force - Taskforce Patrol (Will be listed when it's on Station.)

| [member="Darth Banshee"] | [member="Darth Eversor"] | [member="Darth Odium"] | [member="Ultimatum"] | [member="Ajarod Shova"] |​

| [member="Alexandra Russo"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Roth Tillian"] |​

 

[Roth Tillian]

Reversion in ten minutes.

Roth took a deep breath and deactivated his lightsaber, which had been held high in a Djem So ready posture. He had been running through some velocities to warm up and be prepared. Where there were Sith, there were lightsaber duels, and a little extra preparedness was never a bad thing.

Technicians bustled back out around the hangar, double checking the fighters yet again. From more reports, the Rogues and their frigate were inbound, and the system defenses were active and opening fire on the Sith force. It would be interesting to see what would happen. As with protocol, other battle groups were also inbound to the system. So unless the Sith were planning to go to ground and stay there, they would be in trouble, caught between the fleet and the orbital defenses.

He accessed the files, running over the systems. Those were rather impressive defenses at that. A klaxon blared and Roth powered up the fighter, its engines thrumming to life as the ship's displays all went green. Then the task force dropped out of hyper-space, settling into position around the planet, with the Sith fleet a ways ahead of them still. The fighters lifted off the ground and spat into space, sensors immediately lighting up.

The defense stations were engaged in battle with the fleet while the dropships streamed past, many of them sent hurtling to their deaths in blazing metallic fireballs. Roth studied the displays on the fleet. There wasn't enough here to take the planet, only to hit and run.

"Knights, we're hitting the dropships and running CAS. Disrupt enemy morale and minds." They were code-words for blow stuff up and screw with the enemy's minds. It was the reason the Wild Knights had been created. They all hit the thrusters to full and sped towards the distant displays of blaster fire. As the fighters deployed to battle, several squadrons remained behind to guard the task force, which itself deployed into battle formation. A full carrier strike force.

Not something many would desire to engage with, as it was designed to be self supporting and sufficient. And others were en route.

"Accelerate to attack speed!" Roth called into the comms, "Single file, we're punching through the fleet and hitting the command ship on our way through. One salvo."

Something caught his eye, however. Something that looked like a ship, but was apparently too ragged to exist as a ship. Where had that come from? As he checked the sensors, they noted four drop pods falling from the ship, all apparently dead. But he sensed something, not something alive, something malignant and evil, even by the standards of the rest of the Sith.

The Force nudged him and he rolled the controls, sending the ship into a spiral as a bolt of blaster fire arced past. He cut the throttle back as a pair of Sith fighters streamed past, and Roth rolled back, lining up not on the ships themselves, but where he could feel they would be. He pulled the trigger and lasers wove themselves into the tapestry destruction, intersecting perfectly with one of the fighters. Another burst of lasers from his wingman caught the other one. They scattered into flaming debris and arced towards the planet.

The Sith command ship loomed ahead, turbolasers firing away at the stations and now the task force. Roth set his sights on the ship's bridge.

"All torpedoes to the bridge," Roth said, voice wry, "And then fighters to the surface."

Another barrage of laser fire streaked past and Roth rolled his fighter past. The defensive fire was heavier now that they were in range. He settled himself in the Force, letting it flow through him, tying him to the fighter, expanding his consciousness so that the fighter was his body.

The strike was a dance, hands flying along the throttle, with the fighter following along. The targeting computer locked and he squeezed the trigger. Two proton torpedoes shot out from the fighter, and he pulled the yoke to the right, sending the fighter on a hard diversion course. The rest of the fighters followed. One got caught in a blast of turbolasers, ship disintegrating. Roth grimaced as he felt the death echo through the Force.

A tiny blip compared to everything else going on, but it was closer to him than the rest. No time to mourn yet, there was a battle to win. The stream of torpedoes arced in towards the bridge as Roth fired the ship forward, aiming for a cluster of drop ships. They were the next target.

[member="Naiad Solari"] [member="Darth Banshee"] @Vaulkhar [member="Darth Eversor"] [member="Alexandra Russo"] [member="Zark"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Ajarod Shova"] [member="Darth Odium"]

 

[Choli Vyn]

Location: En route to Belsavis aboard the Rebel's Hope.
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemy: Sith
[member="Alexandra Russo"] [member="Zark"]

[ Rogue Seven, up and at them Rogue Leader! ]

The chirpy voice of Lieutenant Choli Vyn was the first to pop through the comm. In her cockpit, the teenager went flicking through the various toggles and preflight procedures. Engines roared and everything tested good.

Coming to a half hover, Choli's tinted yellow helm swiveled to catch R4-D9 behind her. She gave a grin.

"Oh come on! This will be easy!" she assured the Pebbledrone.

"Who really honestly decides to come in to attack a prison planet anyways?"

 

[Darth Banshee]

Allies: [member="Vaulkhar"] [member="Darth Eversor"] [member="Ultimatum"] [member="Darth Odium"] [member="Ajarod Shova"]
Enemies: [member="Alexandra Russo"] @Zark @Roth Tillian [member="Kelly Perris"] [member="Choli Vyn"] [member="Naiad Solari"]
Equipment: War Armour, SaberStaff, Sith Amulet, Personal Shield.
Location: near hangers.

Ground
Darth Banshee was making slow progress towards hanger, where the ships she was after where being made. She was making progress none the less, with her slicer behind her. He was the most important member of her crew, and was being protected by acolytes. As they moved forward, the resistance was getting less and less. Then out no where a shot hit her, though her armour held back any real damage. It was bruising shot that knocked the wind out of her, several her droids rushed forward to protect her. She then turned her concentration, on sith amulet, it would help her recover. She then got up, and began to march towards the hanger again. She be hangar bays soon, and then she be able to start getting her hands on them fighters. Progress was being made.

SPACE
As her ship's landed, her space force began to be attacked. She had just over a two thousand meter fleet in orbit, to help defend her postion. As her ground force attacked the two targets, they where to help get them there and possible back. Though there was a reserve fleet ready to be used as cavalry by fellow sith knight, and possibly a merc fleet as well. The fleet was lead by her personal command ship called Banshee, they where covering the drop ships as they made the way to ground.
As they did they all began to fire at the, back at the trade station that fired at them. The commander of the flotilla soon realised they had nothing but space station in orbit, this meant they could use the planet as shield and only have to face one of them possibly. As they Galatic Alliance opened its initial salvo at the lead ship, it was knocked off course with the solid shots. As they smashed into command ship banshee, the others returned a full salvo at the ship.

Spoiler

Fleet
Banshee hull/shields 500/500 lost a hundred on both due to salvos
Beauty hull/shields 500/500
Death hull/shields 400/400
Famine hull/shields 400/400
Tooth hull/shields 80/80
Claw hull/shields 80/80
Pincer hull/shields 80/80
Red Squadron 12x Eagles
Blue Squadron 12x Eagles
Green Squadron 12x Eagles
Yellow Squadron 12x Eagles
Purple Squadron 12x Eagles

 

[Ultimatum]

Allies: [member="Darth Banshee"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Location: Following Banshee

Ultimatum was a bit behind the other team, his ship had crashed from the fire and had become disoriented from the blast. Now he was done by about half of his men and still needed to get to that hangar. The droid trusted his capabilities to deal with the computers and temporarily disabling the anti-theft measures. He had lost about a quarter of the trained pilots in his group, so his team would not be grabbing as many of the fighters as had been planned. This was not a good start.

The pitted landscape was fairly empty. There were groups of enemy soldiers roaming attacking Banshee's group and some were converging on him. He had to keep in mind that he was not lightsaber proof as his original body. He could handle all the blaster fire they threw at him, unless they happened to utilize starfighter grade weapons or bigger. The heavy Duranium armor was more than thick enough to handle these small firearm fire.

"Come on, times awasting." What Ultimatum would have given to take some of his V-1s with him and those experimental V-2s. However, such was impossible because he had to maintain his anonymity here. He began to lead his men across the pitted field, using some of the holes to take cover in as they moved slowly to catch up with Banshee, whose group had broken through the enemy lines. Good for her, now it was a matter of doing the same.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Belsavis
Locations:

• The Eden Project Biodome

Military Classification: C
Information: Prison World, Restricted World, Vine-coffee and vine-silk plantations, primary StarCaf production facility, Omega Pyre Trade Station, Doaba Class Defense Station, Uldyr- Class Defense Station

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[member="Ultimatum"] [member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Ajarod Shova"] [member="Vaulkhar"] [member="Darth Eversor"]

INCOM Compound
Hangers

Omega Pyre worked closely in conjunction with INCOM, being that Belsavis was the prison world for Omega Pyre, now narrowed down to the Maximum security prison. There were no Rakata here, they had long gone. Instead it was the typical riftraft that had been picked up during the Protectorate times. None the less it was heavily defended and as such, Omega Pyre worked alongside closely in the INCOM compound.

Recently, there have been discussions with INCOM CEO to create craft for Omega Pyre and work more closely in line. A good thing, because that meant Aeron was there along with several Omega Pyre assets.

"Spread out," the Prex's voice would resonate in every special op ear wig.

"Let's see who's come to play."

Meanwhile, all the starfighters from the defensive stations were now airborne. From the Doaba, Uldyr, and Omega Pyre Station. Hyper velocity canons came online and long range guns began to track the offenders.

In moments, they would belch out the first wave of barrage at the enemy fleet.

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IN BELSAVIS SPACE --

Doaba Class Defense Station


Armaments: (Note: Trading 30 warheads for 60 capital guns, trading 40 capital guns for 80 defense guns)

• Twelve Long-Range Ion Cannons
• Fifteen Heavy Ion Cannon Batteries
• Twenty-Five Heavy Turbolaser Cannon Batteries
• Sixty Light Energy Torpedo Projectors
• Forty-Five Flak Cannons
• Eighty Quad Laser Cannons

Hangar:

• 54 Starfighters (Traded Gunships and Dropships 1:1 and the heavy drops 1:2, then applied the hanger bonus)

Non-Combative Attachments:

• Communications Array
• Encryption Network
• Escape Pods
• Heavy Ray Shield Generator
• Heavy Maneuvering Thrusters
• Holonet Transceiver
• Reinforced Hull Plating
• Standard Detention Cells
• Standard Life Support Systems
• Standard Navigational Systems
• Standard Particle Shield Generator
• Standard Sensor Array
• Standard Targeting Systems

Uldyr Class Defense Station
Armaments:

• Ten Heavy Javelin Hypervelocity Cannons
• Fifty Fastmount Ion Cannon Turrets
• Twenty-Five Heavy Energy Torpedo Projectors
• Sixty-Five Antimissile Octets
• Ninety-Six Quad Laser Cannon Turrets
• Ninety-Six Flak Cannons

Hangar:

• Twelve Aegis or M47 dropships

Non-Combative Attachments:

• Communications Array
• Encryption Network
• Escape Pods
• Heavy Ray Shield Generator
• Heavy Maneuvering Thrusters
• Holonet Transceiver
• Reinforced Hull Plating
• Standard Detention Cells
• Standard Life Support Systems
• Standard Navigational Systems
• Standard Particle Shield Generator
• Standard Sensor Array
• Standard Targeting Systems

Omega Pyre Station



Armaments:

• Five Dual Ion Cannons
• Fifteen Turbolaser Cannons
• Twelve Concussion Missile Launchers
• Forty-Eight Quad Laser Cannon Turrets
• Forty-Eight Flak Cannons

Hangar:

• 24 Knight-class fighters
• 12 Scout-class interceptors
• Space for up to 48 light freighters (max)

Non-Combative Attachments:

• Escape Pods
• Exterior Docking Ring (x2)
• Long-range Communications Array
• Holonet Transceiver
• Standard Deflector Shield Generator
• Standard Detention Cells
• Standard Entertainment Systems
• Standard Life Support Systems
• Standard Navigational Systems
• Standard Sensor Array
• Standard Targeting Systems
• Tractor Beam (x18)

 

[Zef Halo]

Belsavis Surface
Allies: [member="Darth Eversor"], [member="Vaulkhar"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance

Bold. This was how Heim would describe the whole Sith operation upon the planet under the Galactic Alliance. Nonetheless, while some might judge it as foolish, those that wielded true power such as the dark side of the Force is knew that there were no limits. No chains to hold you down. No barriers in your way. The Force shall free me.

The ship rocked as blasts from the anti-air turrets grazed and struck the dropship that Darth Eversor, Vaulkhar and him were aboard. The poet made his way towards the cockpit where Vaulkhar was instructing and supporting the pilot in delivering the Sith down on the surface. The Force was radiating from the Epicanthix in front of him while raw hate lingered behind him. Without glimpsing, Heim knew well the source of hate and malice that stood behind him.

The armor-clad figure of Eversor was the second to exit the dropship after Vaulkhar and right after him was Heim. The Lorrdian walked forward with a quick and confident step as if walking with a brigade of troopers around him. The crimson blade was ignited in his hands and a dark scowl was painted on his face. He smelled the blood and dust, he felt the tiny particles of rubble slam at his face and he heard the chaos around him. A battlefield.

The Sith Knight's eyes flashed icy blue for a second and the minituare living organisms in his closest proximity were turned into lifeless shells. Their essence consumed. Drained by Heim to empower him. A lot of lives would end today on Belsavis. A lot of illusions would be broken today on Belsavis.

 

[Vaulkhar]

Allies: Sith | Darth Eversor & [member="Heim Avendahl"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Objective: Free the Prisoners
Location: Upon the Surface - Moving Towards the Prison

As the fight continued forwards, various soldiers falling to the might of the oncoming Sith, something became absolutely clear to Vaulkhar. These weren't true-blue soldiers, these were droids. A majority of which were in disrepair. Something else had come to bother the youth as well, the lack of noise coming from the prison. By this point, as many drop ships had already landed upon the surface and various soldiers had already begun their rush to the prison, he would of expected to hear alarms, sirens, orders, rampaging prisoners. Anything to alert him to activity within the prison, aside from basic and weak defenses that could not hold their own against the oncoming horde. But as he cut down yet another droid, the machine barely putting up a fight at all, it clicked within his mind.

The prison was in disarray.

Vaulkhar quickly dashed towards a squadron of gathered soldiers, those who came down in his drop ship and moved towards the captain. He had to pass on the information as to make sure the soldiers were aware of the turn of events.

"Captain!" The Sith moved forward, deflecting an oncoming blaster bolt.

"Yes Lord Vaulkhar?" The captain offered a quick salute before dropping to a knee, taking aim at droids off in the distance. "This is not the fight I expected from the Galactic Alliance my lord, this is too easy. Something seems off."

"You'd be right, Captain. The prison is and these droids are in disrepair, I believe we may have fallen into a trap. There are still prisoners inside, possibly numbering in the hundreds, but not as many as we'd of expected. Lets get inside and begin to free them.

And with that, Vaulkhar turned off and charged forward once more, beginning to cut down the few remaining droids who stood between him and the Prison entrance. The troops moved up after him, cleaning up whatever the young Sith had left behind him. Eventually he made it to a long corridor that marked the entrance to the prison and he barked orders to the soldiers, moving them forward as to begin to take the defensive positions he had already ordered them to begin. As per outside, there were already droids in waiting but like outside, the droids were weakened and in disrepair. Vaulkhar stood at the outside, motioning his allies to move forward as he activated his communications device, patching himself to Banshee.

"Looks like the prison is abandoned by the Alliance for the most part, we're going to take up a defensive position within and await the arrival of the Alliance. This should be able to take somewhat of a pounding while the drop ships and your fleet take on the fighters. We're going to free the prisoners and prepare them for the escape before we take our leave."

 

[LT-137]

Location: Unyielding-class Command Cruiser 'Rebel's Hope', Deployment Hangar
Allies: The Galactic Alliance.
Enemies: Sith Insurgents.
Objective: Redemption through Combat.

_________________________________________________________________​

Before him lay the all too familiar sight of a warship’s deployment hangar. It was here that he had found himself, staring into the distance as those around him prepared to meet what lay beyond the swirling azure tides of hyperspace. The Silvered Scholar could feel the anticipation roll off those closest to him in mesmerizing pulses, building towards the distant climax as the Command Carrier surged ever closer towards its destination. His eyes were transfixed upon the broken form of what had once been his starfighter, cast aside and untouched since it had been recovered from the Palace District on Coruscant. The stench of death pervaded that ruin of metal and blood, and even from across the hangar bay, Lucius found himself recoiling in disgust. Painful memories lingered about that darkened alcove, and while it was refreshing for his soul never to forget it’s purpose, a part of him wished to space that wreck and all the nightmares that came with it.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, hoping to calm his senses and turn his thoughts to more productive endeavors, the newly minted Padawan roused himself from the cleared maintenance table and vaulted onto the polished obsidian deck below. Boiled leather boots kissed the flight deck, and the sudden impact rolled through the fibers of his musculature with a pleasant spasm of endorphins. He relished the sensation while it lasted, but as soon as his body had cycled the blood through his interconnected weave of veins, capillaries, and arteries, Lucius had all but forgotten such earthly diversions as the aetheric tides began to change. They were close; he could feel it.

Tensing the muscles in his hands, curling them into fists thereafter, Lucius was faced with quite the dilemma. He could rejoin his comrades in the sky above the frigid world of Belsavis, and shoot down more than his fair share of bandits seeking to plunder that frozen planet’s bounty. Or, Lucius could descend to the surface and embark on the newest chapter of his journey. Had he chosen the former route, there would’ve been little he could do - as in the back of his mind - he knew that there would be little for him to do in order to make a difference. The impressive array of defense stations and their starfighter complements would be more than enough to drive this minuscule armada back into the depths of chaos from whence they came. Adding one more mentally scarred pilot into the mix would simply complicate things, leading to yet another travesty that would push him closer towards that darkened abyss.

Instead, Lucius had chosen to walk down the latter road.

The Silvered Scholar would join his brothers in the brackish waters of Belsavis, and take the fight to these interlopers with his bare hands. His academy training had religiously covered the basics of martial arts, but the short tenure with the New Jedi Order had given him the insight required to hone himself into a weapon further. Even a dagger, when sharpened, was just as deadly as a Claymore when wielded by capable hands. Moving through the swarming crowd of former comrades and fellow pilots, Lucius moved towards one of the many combat-ready dropships readying itself for departure. He brushed passed fellow Rogues and offered a smile as they parted ways, ultimately saying nothing but wishing them the best as they took to the skies. His battle was with those that tainted the surface of Belsavis with their corruptive auras. Once within arms reach of the M47 Illria-Class Dropship, the former slave clambered aboard the troop transport, only to come face to face with those that dwelled within.

Many of the crash couches were filled by Soldiers clad in the sage warplate of the Federation’s armed forces, each bearing the insignia's of their rank and battalion. They gripped their weapons tight as Lucius had boarded the transport, but soon relaxed as they saw the lightsaber dangle from the utility belt - which in turn was lashed about his waist. He could feel their morale soar ever so slightly, as it was possible that they believed that their chances of survival had skyrocketed with the addition of a Jedi to their number. Who could blame them? Were the shoe on the other foot, it was likely that he’d feel the same. Offering a confident smile as he took his place near the assault ramp, the Silvered Scholar was about to strap himself into the restraint harnesses when his violet eyes had caught sight of an armored woman making her way towards where he was currently seated. Her eyes were shrouded like a cobra’s, dark and mysterious, and added to the menacing aura that billowed from her person with every step she had taken. She was violence personified, and wrought from lusterless obsidian and pallid flesh.

As she had grown closer, Lucius had found himself acting more out of instinct than conscious desire. His hand, bound by weathered turquoise dyed leather, reached outwards to offer the woman a hand should she need it. Though, in the darkest recesses of his guarded mind, he had a feeling his gesture would be misconstrued in some manner or another. However, as the seconds began to pass him by, the Padawan chided himself for such foolish thoughts and merely accepted that she too would have a choice to make.

| [member="Lisette Kuhn"] |​