BLACKOUT (Galactic Alliance Invasion of the One Sith held Coruscant.)

[Republic Engineering]

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Art by [member="Netherworld"]​

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Our time has come. For an entire Solar Cycle; We prepared and grew stronger, while you rested in your Opulent Cradle of Power. Believing that your people were safe, and protected by the lies you had wrought. You were trusted to safeguard their lives and yet were led astray by delusions of grandeur. Civil War, Infighting, Chaos. As our righteous fury rose towards the heavens, Your Empire's terrible shadow begins to wane. You assumed that none could stand against you, and challenge your supposed right to rule, but you were deceived. And now. Finally.​

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We have returned, to Finish what you started.​

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The Indomitable-Class Star Defender was dying a death earned from a thousand cuts. Lances of atomic energy rippled against her ailing shields, overloading the capacitors and causing the protective barrier to shimmer tremulously before erupting in a shower of invisible sparks. Flowers of fire blossomed across the Eidolon's metallic flesh, as spears of emerald light tore open entire decks, venting pressurized atmosphere and sentient lives into the bespeckled black. With every passing moment, more and more of the once proud Warship was being flayed away to reveal the iron framework beneath.

Though the vessel was alone amidst the enemy lines, she did not go quietly into the Night. Thunderous staccato's of turbolaser cannonade had echoed into the muted silence of the Void, despoiling vast fields of particulate debris as the Starship raged against her impending doom. Her crimson lances spelled death wherever they connected, slaying the enemy with as much indiscriminate fury as she could muster. Missiles detonated. Gunships deployed. Shields failed. Starfighters soared. Warships died. It was a scene stolen from the pages of history and laid bare in the present for all to see. Both sides had marshaled their forces, and as a result, both the supposed Heroes of the Galactic Alliance and those of the One Sith had died badly. There were no valiant stands to be had in the void, no cunning maneuvers that spoke of heroism. All were equal partners in the Danse Macabre, and it was only a matter of time until it was one's turn to take the stage.

It was in the Eidolon's death throes that the Hapan Captain had felt the horrors of War worm their way into her thoughts once again. She had lost her first command that had borne the same name in a similar manner, and when the vessel's fate was sealed - her instincts had driven her towards the unthinkable. She had called for her crew to abandon the ship, to flee its destruction and make for the surface. At least there, they would be able to survive marginally longer than in the obsidian skies above their targeted world. Stricken by grief, and adorned in the armored finery of her station, Astarii had forsaken her dying post and chose to live, as the rest of her subordinates had. There was little to be done, and with much of the ship unable to carry out her orders, it was pointless to remain in orbit. She would be nothing more than a liability to those that had suffered under the steadfast defense mounted by the One Sith's Armada. Her fellow Captains had more important things to worry about, rather than the well-being of one of their own. Thus, as she had fastened her armor's Combat Helm into place and watched the scrolling feed of data fill her vision, the Hapan whispered a prayer of gratitude to the slain Star Defender.

If Ships truly had a soul, the woman hoped that this token gesture of thanks would ease the passing.

Peeling her obsidian gauntlet from the bulkhead, Captain Saren moved through the fluted corridors of her Warship and had come to a rolling halt before an access hatch, one that would lead towards an escape pod. Punching the manual release with inhuman force, the armored woman lashed herself into the restraint harness and slammed an open palm against the disengagement seal. The Door before her shut within an instant, sealing her inside the metallic coffin. As a crimson light filled the interior of the Savior Pod, Astarii's jaw clenched. She hated this part. Not the rush of adrenaline that came with the sudden downward velocity, but what had come after - the ringside seats to the Aftermath of an Enemy's victory. With gut-wrenching force, the pod was cast out of the ailing Star Defender and shot into the orbital graveyard of wistfully spinning wreckage.

Her eyes had closed as the Pod accelerated, and opened when she had eclipsed the skin of her beloved vessel. Bathed in the light of battle and the System's star, Astarii had witnessed the death of her treasured Warship firsthand, harrowing her to the core. The sensation, if she could've put it to words, was like a Mother helplessly watching her Daughter be dragged out to slaughter. She felt nothing but sorrow as pinpricks of verdant green light seared the fading sight into her eyes, denying her the pleasure of shutting out such horrid spectacle. It was then that the armored shell burst into flames as the cloying ethereal hands of the planet's atmosphere took the emotionally wounded woman into her embrace. There, upon the duracrete soil of Coruscant, Astarii had resolved to enact her vengeance upon the vile Soldiery of the One Sith, and reap whatever she sowed.

Damn the consequences.

~ OOC Section ~​

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For this Invasion, there are No set Objectives, No overarching Goals, and No Duels of Fate that will determine the Faction to claim Victory. This thread shall solely be based on the Story we shall weave together, and give us something to look back on with pride after the Two week period is spent. ​

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Have Fun, Be Civil, and Enjoy the Blackout.​

 

[Aela Talith]

Senate District
Republica 500 - Alric Kuhn's Apartment
[member="Adder"]

Planning.

That was what had gotten them here. That was why they were going to succeed, why they were going to make it here. She frowned for a moment, shifting her weight as the lightsaber slipped into it's holster on her thigh. Behind her the sound of a power pack being slapped into a weapon echoed. Aela half turned to see three members of the 5th Legiondressed in their armor, each of them ready for combat. She then shifted and peered towards the other side of the room, looking out the massive panel window to spy the Senate Rotunda in the distance.

Eventually the small group completed their checks, Aela's eyes flickering to her chrono. "Any minute now."

She knew the timing by heart.

They had planned prodigiously for this invasion. Every aspect, every portion, every roll that was to be played, Aela knew them all. When the Galactic Alliance came, and come they would, Aela and the 5th Legion would do their part. They had come here ahead of everyone else, not to infiltrate, not to sabotage, but simply to strike first. The Senate Rotunda stood only five leagues from here, and the advanced teams of the 5th Legion would strike there in a heartbeat of the invasions start.

That was the plan anyway. Aela had been through enough battles to know that no plan survived long after contact with the enemy, but at the very least they had something set out. Slowly the young Jedi Marshall wandered towards the window, peering through it to find Zven fueling up the freighter that would carry them in just a few minutes. Her eyes then slowly drifted towards the sky, lips thinning.

"Here we go." She said softly, more to herself then anyone else.

Her heart began to race, and time began to slow.

 

[Mara D'Lessio Merrill]

SECRET DROP CHUTE
ASCENDING THROUGH CORUSCANT UNDERCITY TOWARD VALLEY OF LORDS FOUNDATIONS


[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Kira Vaal"] [member="Meeristali Peradun"]

Once upon a time, this curved, top-secret pipe had connected the Jedi Temple's subbasement archives to top-secret phrik vaults in the depths of the undercity. Mara and others had come back to the drop vaults a couple of times since the fall of Coruscant, and verified that camouflage, illusion, obscurity, secrecy, the construction of millennia, and battle damage had kept the old setup from detection. This chute, eventually, rose until it terminated a couple of kilometres away, beneath the foundations of the Valley of Lords. From there, they'd have to cut their way up and risk detection. In the meantime, this route allowed them to get close to the Valley -- a site of multiple temples and monuments, built at one of the greatest natural Force concentrations in the galaxy. And this route would get them there without dealing with security perimeters whatsoever.

Of course, that would put them alone, virtually unarmored, in the heart of a high-security area. And getting there required a heck of a climb.

The drop chute was slick, just about frictionless. Beneath the skin lay ferrous support struts at regular intervals. Magnetic hand- and elbow-pads allowed the strike team to climb in the close, sweaty confines of the pipe. Heavy armor was out; their cumbersome disguises were no longer an option, and had been abandoned in the camouflaged vault below. Mara had left most of her best gear behind; she'd brought only her scattergun and her lightfoil, along with a utility belt. She wore only an old Iron Skin armorweave bodysuit. For the first few minutes of the climb, she'd been self-conscious regarding her rear. Then the effort had set in, and she'd forgotten awkwardness in favor of the necessary Force concentration. She needed to enhance physical endurance -- and keep her presence concealed at the same time. A tall order, while climbing an increasingly inclined, frictionless pipe for a couple of kilometres.

They'd explored Razorhawks and similar repulsor gear to save time, but the Coruscant Underground - the people who'd smuggled them into the undercity - had convinced them otherwise. Razorhawks took specialized training, and the last thing they needed was to play human pinball in close quarters. Very close. Very close indeed.

Mara's hand found a ridge. With a gasp of relief, she pulled herself into the maintenance hatch. These were the only rest spots along the way, little nooks with nothing but layered, ancient duracrete warrens outside. Small as the nook was, though -- barely large enough for the strike team -- it represented a brief respite from the pipe's claustrophobia. Grandmaster Darron Wraith, a large man, had once ridden one of these pipes all the way down, but he'd been crammed in very snugly, and some of the strike team were just as large.

"We've reached the last maintenance nook," she called to the rest, squinting in the flickering light of her headlamp. "Rest up, then we go for the final push and start cutting our way into the foundations. The tunnel's crimped and wrecked at some point up ahead, remember, so watch for sharp metal."

She didn't mention the increasingly oppressive presence of the Force nexus above and ahead. It was, historically, one of the greatest, and the One Sith had done their best to taint it with sacrifices and atrocities. Perhaps today they'd shift the balance. In the meantime, it sucked.

 

[Zef Halo]

Glory.

Glory could only be achieved in battle.

Jori's stood watching the traffic full skies of Coruscant. He heard the loud noise around him and the synchronized footsteps that seemed to never end. He saw bright lights of all colors everywhere in the urban landscape before him. But it was not traffic of Coruscani families heading home from work, it was numerous dog fights and falling pods from space. It was not the noise of numerous establishments and thousands of footsteps of civilians passing by, it was rather the noise of explosions and hasty movement of soldiers preparing to defend their planet. It were not the bright lights of billboards and advertisements that lit the ecumenopolis but blaster fire raining from above and raining from beneath, their clashes resulting in death.

A long day awaited the Mandalorian but he looked forward for it. The sum of credits that bought his mercenary services were good enough but that was not what Jori considered the true payment. The credits would go for the greater good - his gear and his clan were just an example of where the credits would partially go. No. The true payment was the thrill of battle.

The HUD within his helmet gave him numerous information that would be helpful in the long run but also made him realize that ground battle was soon bound to occur. His hands quickly went all over his weapons and gear. Everything was there and he was good to go.

Glory awaited.

For the battle of Coruscant would truly go in History.

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Low orbit over Coruscant, approaching the financial district

The Galactic Alliance commited almost its entire strength to that one big gamble, in an attempt to capture the capital of the One Sith. The Army of Malastare, with its 800 men, was famous for one thing: having the only minesweeper unit in the entire Alliance army, and it made sense to deploy the Army of Malastare wherever it was most critical for the Alliance to have the mines swept. Intelligence reported that enemy high command was in the Senate district and the main thoroughfares leading to the Senate district on the ground were suspected to be minefields. General Poof, the Gungan commanding officer of the Army of Malastare, decided that the financial district approach was the most direct and the most crucial of the possible approaches into the Senate district. He knew that, regardless of what path the Army of Malastare would take, Sith Lords lie in wait alongside their armies. The Army of Malastare was to make the junction with General Talith's 5th Legion beyond the minefield. And, of course, the Army of Malastare had other elements behind. Because clearing a minefield would force his unit to advance to a crawl, the Army will be forced into defensive positions no matter what, behind the Rings of the Lord.

"Yousa did an admirable job on Malastare, but today wesa no pasten mackineeks. Today wesa pasten and munchen da One Sith in theirsa maxibig homeworld! If wesa win here, on oursa return to Malastare, wesa will be celebrated as heroes of da Alliance! Who wants to eat Sith Lords tonight?"

"General, what is our battle plan once we deploy on the surface?" a Jawa sniper asked.

"Once wesa land on Coruscant's streets, da Rings of the Lord will form una single line, assuming defensive stance because da main boulevard issa minefield. All-an-youse else, form square behind da tanks. Mesa tank will have da battle flag and da tank to mesa left will have da Alliance flag on issa"

"General, the enemy expects us to attempt to make junction with General Talith somewhere in the inner circle of the financial district" a Gran grenadier told Ugohr prior to reaching the landing zone.

"Remember, da other elements countin on usen to advance. Wesa must do oursa part to paste da One Sith in da Financial District!"

"We have arrived, troops" the captain of the Acclamator-class landing ship told Ugohr and the other elements loaded onboard.

Said elements counting on the Army of Malastare to advance through the Financial District were also boarded onboard that Acclamator-class ship the Army of Malastare was loaded on. Because of Ugohr's instructions, the Army of Malastare had the Rings of the Lord unload first and open fire at any opposition within range. They must stand ready to smash windows on the skyscrapers...

"Ladies and gentlemen, da Army of Malastare will advance! Attack!"

[member="Lisette Kuhn"] [member="keld Fett"] [member="Abyss"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Darth Ayra]

Undisclosed location on Coruscant, somewhere in the Upper City.

In the horizon sat the great Black Pyramid, constructed by Darth Vornskr on the bequest of the One Sith, which housed prisoners bound by unjust laws and a war that they had begun seven years previously. Back then, the Galactic Republic was at the pinnacle of prosperity and strength once more. After four centuries of darkness, it seemed that somehow, someway, the house of democracy had risen above the filth and degradation born out of the Gulag Plague. Led by their valiant Jedi Knights, democracy had once more crushed the Sith and their attempts to restore their Empire out in the Esstran Sector. It seemed that peace was not a lie. With hard work, the galaxy could once again be rebuilt and saved from the tyranny of evil men. The era of Chaos was to be averted.

But peace was a lie. After seven long years of war, the Galactic Republic was on the fringes of utter desolation, born out of the malice of the One Sith and their revenge against those that sought to eradicate them. Back then, Darth Ayra had been disillusioned, lost in the vision of the Dark Lord of the Sith that had delivered the fall of Coruscant and a true Sith Empire that would bring about the promise. Now, Ayra saw things differently. Basked in the many battles waged by the collective of Sith brought together under one vision, one purpose, one goal, she had become absolved of the lies and deceit created by the decadent Voss who had orchestrated the Republic's demise. For the ancient Sith- the true masters of the dark side- had delivered truths that had absolved Ayra of her sins. For there had been a man called Bane. Two Sith, who had traversed the galaxy together for one thousand years, had delivered the promise of the Sith Order. Was she the only one who saw through the veil that was the Four-Hundred Year Darkness?

Speeders, cars and trucks flew above, beneath and around Darth Ayra. Mirrors, that stretched from the upper echelons of Coruscanti society down into the depths of their poor, delivered sunlight that cast itself upon the scarred, maimed and absolved Chandrilian. Loose flowing dark robes hid the abominations that covered her. Sacrifice. Discovery had taken it's toll. There was a time, seemingly so long ago now, where Darth Ayra imagined she at least knew what the lie was. In those brief moments of tranquility, the disgusting lie that was peace could be seen. But now, as the Orbalisks that covered her body ate away at her skin, flesh and power, the Sith saw the galaxy for what it was.

And she found it wanting.

Despite the abominations that covered her body, Darth Ayra was at least used to the constant, ruthless sensation of pain. It was a fantastic, yet terrible lesson given by the late great Freedon Nadd, delivered from a bygone era. Now, the alliance between the dark side and it's tools- death, destruction, chaos- was hers to demand and subsequently command at her very will. The very nature of the Force itself was as sadistic as it was subtle, and where subtly came delivered opportunity that had to be taken. To think there were such Sith who disregarded subtly in favour of destruction; or chaos in favour of deceit was almost laughable. Almost. Darth Ayra was the amalgamation of an evolution of a people that begun in the cold desert dunes of Korriban, who now found themselves rulers of the great city that was Coruscant. And they had to be destroyed. For it was the light side of the Force that commanded the concepts of unity, togetherness and hope that would band heroes- such as the Galactic Alliance- together in the face of tyranny.

It was this that had been missed by the One Sith. The dark side was a weapon born out of individuality and subtly that they had been forsaken in favour of the vision to destroy the Jedi and rule the galaxy. Conquerors they were not. As Coruscant had fallen seven years ago, here the One Sith stood on the precipice of losing it back to the Jedi that they had seemingly scattered and broke. Head bowed, Darth Ayra watched the traffic in the glimpse of Coruscant's falling star, waiting for the battle to begin. Resting in either hand was the holocron of Darth Revan, the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith who had discovered the secrets of the thoughtbomb. Following in the steps of the Sith'ari himself, Bane's disciple waited to capitalize on the One Sith's loss and the Alliance's gain.

 

[RC 212]

[member="Ugohr Poof"]

Unit: 1st Alliance Infantry
Location: The Military District

The first Alliance Infantry. It was only a battalion sized element, about four hundred men split into four companies. After the events of Malastare, and the reinforcing of Dulyovin, they had all been drafted and stood up. For months since his role as Militia Commander Keld had been drilling along side the men. They had all kinds here, stowaways, criminals, smugglers and the like. The one thing that united them as their newly found profession of arms.

*BOOM*

His hand slipped from the overhead straps as the drop ship dipped low in between two monumental skyscrapers. They were taking heavy fire, and the air was thick with acrid plumes of midnight black.

"Sergeant Fett, is your fireteam ready!"

He glanced left, pushing his helmet up with one sweaty hand. His heart was pounding, mind racing a million miles a minute. Through the roar of the engines and the blinding haze he nodded, giving the XO a stony glare.

"Yes Sir! Locked and loaded!"

"Good."

The steel gray interior of the death box was filled with rookies. Keld glanced back, observing each man. 1st Platoon had maybe fifty experienced fighters and fifty Rookies. And it showed in their eyes, the way they held their weapons, and their stances. They were afraid. All of them.

"Corporal Ralston!"

"Yes Sarn't."

"Get my big guns up front. As soon as we land I want fire superiority."

The Corporal nodded, waving his camouflaged arm. Ten young men moved forwards with their Z-6 Rotary cannons.

*Bam!*

The deck bucked under their feet like a schooner in a roaring gale. Keld reached out and snatched a cargo strap, latching on with an iron grip. His butthole puckered, pale lips pressed thin.

"You think half of em are even gonna make it to the surface Sarn't?"

Brown eyes locked with the young warriors green orbs, and the grim look told his subordinate all he needed to know.

"Just keep em alive Corporal, as many as you can."

"ONE MINUTE!"

Keld whirled, signalling with a single index finger.

Whoosh!

"Thirty seconds!"

"Standbye!"

The landing was anything but perfect. Seconds after the order was given the left wing sheared off, screeching into the side of a skyscraper. Keld roared in fear and frustration as the craft hobbled far right, nudging the corners of another building. Alarms blasted, adding to the chaos as the young soldiers struggled to gain their footing.

"Pilot, keep her steady as she can! Brace Men!"

"Brace!!!!"

WHAM!

Spare cargo containers and weapons slammed left and right through the air. There was screams and sprays of crimson ichor as heads, limbs and body parts were crushed or sheared under the impact. A stray laser bolt had penetrated the cockpit, searing right through the pilots visor.

They came down rear end first. Keld felt both his feet leave the deck, and his face impact the bulkhead at an alarming rate of speed. Coppery blood mixed with saliva. Smoke in his eyes, sweat burning the open cuts on his neck.

More alarms.

"Get out! Get the frak out, NOW!"

The Crewchiefs loud bellowing managed to rouse him. He felt hands clutch his armpits, and the sensation of being dragged hit him.

"Get out!"

Laser beams criss-crossed, melting steel, burning flesh. Hundreds of them poured from multiple crafts, like ants kicked from an anthill. There was the whine of repeating blasters, the dull thumps of explosions as ordinance rained down. He felt his feet clear the deck, and the overpressure of blast as the bird exploded, the pilot and crewhchief consumed in a ball of searing flame and smoke.

"Wake up! Medic! Medic!"

From the deck he looked up, pushing hard with both hands.

"Get out of my face corporal!" Keld roared,l snatching the A-120 Blaster rifle from where it hand fallen.

"Get those guns going! Rotary cannons full forwards!"

The Xo was roaring orders over the din.

"Where do we go from here?"

"Just fraking shoot corporal, and keep shooting till you run out of ammo!" Keld roared.

The entire squad was pinned down, crouched behind the wreckage of the craft and the random debris in the street. From the front the Z-6 Rotary cannons rained blue beams of death down, their barrels glowing birhgt red in the darkness.

"Lt. Where the frak are we!" Keld roared, dropping to one knee and jamming the trigger.

"I dunno, we got hit and had to put down, I think we're-"

And that was all he got out. A sniper bolt caught him right through the neck, blasting spinal fluid and chunks of bone away, cauterizing the wound with the smell of horrid barbecue.

"Lt's Down! Where's the Cap'n!"

"He's dead Sarn't!"

"Well frak it, keep firing!"

 

[Liliane]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLUj9lFPU6s​

Goal: Destroy the Sith
Location: Undercity | Headed Towards Valley of Lords
Allies: The Galactic Alliance | [ [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Meeristali Peradun"] ]
Enemies: The One Sith | None

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Operation Blackout, the Liberation of Coruscant, Reclamation of the Heart, Invasion of the Core... Whatever one would call it, the Galactic Alliance was in the capital of the One Sith, stronger than ever before, and they were there to fight. These noble soldiers, Jedi, pilots and many others were there for one reason -- defeat the Sith and bring light into the darkness. And Lilin loved that.

Along with the Hounds and Mara Merrill, she was in the undercity, making her way through the secret drop chutes and whatnot. It was not the best place to be, but it was strategically a good thought to invade from the place where the Sith couldn't expect them to. The plan, to her, seemed genial.

The team was medium-sized. The most, if not all, of the Hounds were there, so it was tight. Climbing through the small chutes was a difficult thing, especially considering how large some of them were. She herself was a small girl, so she imagined she would have no trouble doing so.

And yes, it so happened to be so that Lilin had no difficulty climbing up the chute when they got that far in the plan. The chute was practically frictionless, but she had done more than enough climbing as a child and then on as a Jedi that she didn't really find it that difficult to grasp from the support struts along the way.

Wearing only a tight but still not too limiting fighting uniform, she wasn't really too protected -- there were no lightsaber- or blaster-resistant effects to the clothing she was wearing. It was just it; a piece of clothing. But then again, she had never even worn a real armour to the battlefield before, so she was used to such things. Of course this was the capital of the One Sith, meaning they would get a much greater reaction if they attacked.

When they reached the maintenance hatch, Lilin exhaled in relief. The whole tunnel was sweaty and she herself was tired and the combination was just horrible. It was good to get a little bit of rest before moving on.

 

[Hailyn]

Spoiler

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNQgABsUfK8[/media]

THE SOUND

CORUSCANT; FINANCIAL DISTRICT - AIRBORNE
EQUIPMENT:

• SHELL OF DEVOTION
• LISETTE'S FIRST LIGHTSABER
• LISETTE'S SECOND LIGHTSABER

Coruscant.

A disgusting, dirty, hellscape of a world that housed the rich and shunned the poor, literally forcing them beneath kilometers of structures to the deepest, darkest, crevices of the powerful capital of the One Sith's multi-sector empire like cockroaches in a house of pigs. 'Pigs.' She thought, her green eyes narrowing in disgust as the financial district came into view. The Sith, the rich, the elite, powerful, influential - they'd lived two decades of success off the backs of the unfortunate, off the backs of the weak and the unlucky. Though they, the civilians, numbered in the trillions on this world, they still crawled below the threat of discipline by their tyrannical overlords.

She knew the fear well, having been born as the firstborn daughter to the Sith Lady that had eventually climbed her way up the ranks to the then-Dark Lord's voice, but she wasn't here to sympathize with that suffering. She wasn't here for pleasantries at all, really. A year ago she had joined up with the Galactic Alliance's New Jedi Order strike on the Sith Temple on Coruscant, today she was back to liberate the world. 'Today, mother, I right the wrongs you helped to create.' Lisette thought to herself, glad that her mother was no longer among the living to help propagate the Sith scourge.

"Lis, we're arriving." Came the gruff voice of the pilot over the intercom. The ship she was descending to the planet in was an unmarked cargo vessel, not much larger than the average starfighter, as she'd refused the offer to accompany other Alliance troops on their larger ships. Of course, they were all heading to the same general area - [member="Ugohr Poof"] and [member="Aela Talith"] both leading forces through the financial district, which happened to be where the little ship that was ferrying her was going to drop her over. "How much are you paying me, again?" The man in the cabin of the ship asked, seeming to take notice of the Acclamator-class that dipped down beside them to land in the middle of the massive financial district. "Quit your complaining, all you need to do is fly low enough for me to jump, Sam. If credits are your worry, we can talk after the liberation." Lisette snapped back, rolling her eyes as she slid the remainder of her armor on.

"You're going to jump into Coruscant? We're talking about the One Sith's Coruscant, THIS Coruscant, right? Are you fething crazy?" The man revealed to be Sam shouted, his voice echoing across the empty cargo that she was ducked in. "What if you die? Who's going to pay me then? Huh?" Sam rambled, although Lisette didn't seem very keen on answering. It, honestly, wasn't a scenario she had given much thought to - she couldn't. The moment a soldier thought they were going to die, if they weren't completely mental and weren't die-hard extremists, then it was very hard to shake that acceptance of defeat. "Don't worry about me, Sam, just keep yourself in the air and get out of the system as soon as I drop. You'll get your credits, whether I live or die. If I don't send any your way, bug my step-dad - you know, Alric Kuhn. Tell him I owed you money and died on Coruscant." She answered, getting to her feet with both of her lightsabers in each hand.

"If I don't make it, Sam, tell him to tell the family I loved them." Lis shouted, right before both of the sabers activated and she cut a hole through the cargo hold.

"Crazy Jedi types... Damn good girl, too bad she's fething crazy. Feel bad for her parents.." Sam muttered to himself, wincing as he shut the radio off after Lisette started ripping a hole through the base of the holding space of the ship. It wasn't going to be cheap to fix, but it also wasn't going to compromise anything inside of the ship beyond the empty cargo space. He wished she had just let him open the door, though. It would have saved him some cash.

'Here we go.' She thought, then jumped.

[member="Abyss"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Clovis Torcularis]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnlDKHFtUKo[/youtube]​

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My traitorous Master, one Darth Venefica, had once told me that invasions of planets and war was nothing more than men on both sides measuring the length of their glow sticks, while the women joked how far they could take them, toss in the occasional blaster shot and well, that was the topic of most adult movies. Kids, close your eyes and cover your ears, because it's about to get worse as we progress into this story. Glow stick length or not, I cared for only one thing, bringing a Jedi head to my bosses, cause I made promise that I intended to keep. Now my glow stick didn't measure up to the ferocity of my peers, hence why I wielded one in each hand, cause let me be honest folks, I'm a two handed monster. Pun intended, damn right!

Now to the most important topic at hand, pun NOT intended, the lovers of truth and justice where looking to come dig graves in our backyard, hoping to capture our capital and split our Order once again.

Wait....

...Halt....

History lesson 101.

How many times did those pesky Jedi try to make us extinct, only to find out later, after they grew into complacency, that we always endured. Rule of Two, yeah we fooled you then. What makes you think we can't fool you again, with swelled numbers? Kill us now, and what do you create? I'll tell you, a galaxy ruled by unbalanced fascists whose sole purpose is to make everyone feel safe, which is another way of saying "Be like us or else." Toss away the free thinking of individuals and what do you have, a puppet galaxy. Jedi folks, is that what you want? Of course you do, because it's far easier to manipulate a society with insecurity than truth, and when we return in force, then it is easier to admit that we are thicker than you imagined for your tiny wholesale teachings. Did that hurt? Did I break you? I know I did, I see the blood of truth running down my long lightsaber blades, did it hurt to be doubled upped? I'm sad it came to this, because we could have been friends, and now I have to to kill you, not because I'm Sith and you are Jedi, but because I hate you! And as all Sith deal with, I absolutely hate you.

Now it came time for me to prepare for the invasion, and I did so by adjusting my mask and killing the salvation in me, while standing with two unlit lightsabers in my hand, War had come to my family, and I stood in the Finance District with the bodies of my soldiers coloring the streets with their crimson beauty, cause in their sacrifice granted my power, I stood like a God among the dead.

Turning my masked ruined face to my associate I said, "Today is a good day to die." I dropped my two hilts in front of me, watching them roll inches from me, because as my traitorous Master once told me, only a Sith of Truth can fight with purpose. And surprise. I'm the second coming.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X-kwNNLmhd8​

​

​

Ally: [member="Abyss"]

Enemy(s): Pfft, [member="Lisette Kuhn"]

 

[Aneya Maev]

ABOVE CORUSCANT
SCNN's J-type Star Skiff

---

The capital of the galaxy was the topic of the day. The One Sith's capital world had been untouched for years, no government unable to destroy the Sith and liberate the planet. Now the Galactic Alliance was giving a try at getting rid of the tyrannical governorship of the One Sith Empire -- an event that the whole faction must see and hear of.

That is why SCNN's battlefield reporters, as well as most of its ships were at Coruscant that day.

Above the planet, the Sullust Daily's editor-in-chief's J-type Star Skiff floated, trying to organise the whole work of the reporter team. But that was definitely not the only ship there.

Two T40 Heavy Transport Freighters were flying near the orbit of the planet, broadcasting the news live to the Galactic Alliance. The two freighters also had back-up reporters inside in case something were to happen to the first batch. As well as the two freighters, there was also a stealth ship, a D-type Stealth Freighter flying around the planet doing its best not to get caught while also reporting of events to the two heavy freighters.

Of course reporters couldn't really go right into battlefield, so that is what the Sparrow Drones were for. They would give overview of the events to the reporters who would then transform the information into reports and then send them to either the D-type Stealth Freighter or to one of the two T40 Heavy Transport Freighters so that the news could get to the Alliance as soon as possible.

What's more, the SCNN had made a deal with other news management companies who allowed them to broadcast the events live on HoloTV. It was a huge honour for the company, as well as a great responsibility.

But Aneya knew they would manage. She knew media had to work.

And she knew media could destroy.

 

[Darth Centax]

Mission: Drive off the Invaders to his homeland or die trying.
Location: The Memorial Wall: Central Centax 5th Army Command.
NPC Allies:

Spoiler

Rough Total: 19000/19000 + Civilians
8,000 / 8,000 - 769th Coruscants Own, Skirmishing Stormtroopers
Local Individuals
4,000/ 4,000 - 770th Loyal Sons and Daughters, Heavy Infantry Stormtroopers
[member="Nyx"] and [member="Mythos"] Clones
2,000 / 2,000 - 771st Faceless First, Scouts and Recon Stormtroopers
[member="James Justice"] Clones
5,000 / 5,000 - Sithwatch Militia | Growing Number of Civilians
30/30 AT-AW | 90/90 Blastail–MC1 – 772nd Durasteel Dogs (DuraDogs).
[member="Rohlan Verd"] Clones
Memorial Wall Defenses - Condition: Excellent.

NPC Fluff Command Staff: *Will be posted once.

Spoiler

General: Zerde'doal'caitho, Chiss, Critical Thinking Strategist, 5th Army CO.
Major General: Thracken, Human, Balanced Commander, 769th Corps Commanding Officer
Brigadier General: Inan Vorloth, Arkanian, Aggressive, 769th 2nd Division Commander and XO of the 769th.
High Colonel: Testa deCrion, Myke, Armored Battlegroup, Cautious, Relaxed, Officer in the 770th
High Colonel: Karasnema, Chiss, Cold and Calculating, 770th and 769th liaison officer to high command.
High Colonel: Melsk Thraus, Human, blowhard, old guard type, stonefaced officer, not liked by many.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKFLpfv4hSY​

770th Inscription Stand Tall, Fight to your last breath. None take your pride.
19,000 against the galaxy, fate to be decided through fire and stone.
Atop the walls facing the tide. Only the bravest dared stand when odds were against them.​

Coordinating large areas of the sith ground forces and resistance was the 5th Armies Command and Control.

A hard bunker target, one of the best defended on this their capital world, multiple levels of security. The 5th Army Command and Control was a 5km wide 1km tall mostly cleared area, with trench network, bunkers, hidden foxholes, razor wire, AI and AV mines. Walker and tank patrols, legions of infantry geared up for an extended fight and dug in across an urban environment, medium tanks and walkers assisting them. At the very center two walls, one tank height, one walker height, bristling with point defense turrets, chainguns, missile launchers, heavy turbo laser artillery, multiple shield position, ion resistance. You name it, it was here. At the heart a deep bunker complex going some 2000m underground at its extreme, most between 500 – 1000 meters, with 3 elevators, 2 staircases down, and internal defenses inside. Bunker designed to protect it from collapse, it had a reinforced blast shield which could be closed, and cushioning smaller shields for debris on the way down, though at best if the above came down it'd be a buried command and control facility coordinating sith forces in the area for as long as it could operate.

If there was the definition of defended, this was it. It was going to be here until someone was brave and daring enough to remove it from the face of the galaxy, or take it as their own.

1km Above it was worse. In the local, rebuilt coruscant cityscape, there was a 60,000 strong civilian population, businesses, clubs, living areas sitting above them. Hatred since the galactic alliance destroyed their home here had caused the forming of the 769th stormtrooper regiment from the surrounding population, and that fed the locals anger to be fiercely resistant to any occupying force. Hidden hardened firing positions, fall back positions, shielded turrets operated by militia, chainguns, particle cannons.

They were in for one hell of a fight to take their homeland here perhaps most of all because:

GNN Broadcast via Physical Sonic Speakers to the cityscape.​

Transmitting from the Memorial Wall Ceremony Inside the fortification. 5th Army General Zerde'doal'caitho, a chiss critical thinking strategist and his command staff stood ready.

“Once again they come for our homes, our families and loved ones.”

“This time the dogs show their faces.”

“They will not give you any quarter, you’ve seen what they can do.” Images of the burials, the ceremonies and the dead were playing in the background, images of republic forces too at balmorra crushing and cursing their dead family names, the almost 1,400 killed at Dulvoyinn defending the Sith borders from the crusaders. The Sith had been ruthless, brutal obviously, but here, here where they buried their loves ones, families and dead, here the hatred for the alliance was far stronger.

Local celebrity stooges and businessmen spoke of the alliance, and what they could do, as Sithwatch rallied on mass. This swelled local pride and anger. Militia caches were opened, and militia carbines taken on mass, civilians joining the defense of their own homes.

Kylath fixed his helmet in place, energy riot shield upon his back, guns, gear and saber ready. “For Coruscant, and for your families. Rise now!” A thousand of those immediately around saluted the original monument on the surface, and each one turned to meet their fate. Broadcasts would continue with patriotic music, propaganda and anti GA sentiment from below the bunker as long as it could. They kept the focus families, coruscant, because these things every single 769th man and woman would die for without question or pause. Clones fought for the wider sith and their roles, individuals more readily sacrificed to protected their loved ones. Both used here as a clever Sith commander's tools.

Personal Gear: *Next Post.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

SECRET DROP CHUTE
ASCENDING THROUGH CORUSCANT UNDERCITY TOWARD VALLEY OF LORDS FOUNDATIONS


[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Kira Vaal"] [member="Meeristali Peradun"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

“Hear that Dave? We get a rest soon,” Jacen said.

“Please, as if you have not shamed me enough already. My designation is TCX312G, 5th mobile infantry,” came the reply.

“You're not still complaining about your gun are you?” Jacen asked as he reached for the lip.

“Of course. Your technicians could have coded my not to kill, but not…maimed me in such a shameful manner. And now here I am, a great warrior, carrying your bag. You could have armed a fleet of my brothers with compact scatterblasters, sent us up these tubes and we would have laid waste to your enemies!” Dave replied.

Jacen didn't bother to reply. He'd explained already that getting a fleet of battle droids into coruscant wasn't practicable. Dave was actually a captured Techno Union hailfire droid. Basically a small mobile weapons platform on a repulsors. When the GA had got into their guts, they'd found that the TU combat algorithms were around two decades ahead of anything the Alliance had. So they'd disarmed them and used them for training. Jacen had borrowed ‘Dave’ to carry his gear. If he'd realised that the programming that made them such effective combatants manifested as such a strong desire for combat in the droid’s personality he might have left him at home.

“Look Dave, Gabe here is looking for another nanny droid, so keep it quiet please. You get me?”

“Affirmative.”

Jacen hauled himself up to see Mara pressing herself into the back of the maintenance compartment. She really had no need for feeling self-conscious about her rear, it was a rather nice one he'd decided to himself. Which was another sign he was truly out of sorts. It wasn't the nexus that broke his focus, though that certainly didn't help. On the journey Gabe had told him firmly to stop imagining possibilities after Jacen had started expressing a concern that his son might not even be where they were going for the fifth time.

In his heart, Jacen knew he shouldn't be here. He should have been on the front lines. Last time, at the Battle of Coruscant, he'd been on the front lines as a solider and been powerless to make a difference. That wasn't the case now. He could lie to himself, say he was part of a vital mission. But he knew that as that mission reached his climax he would diverge off on what amounted to a personal errand.

I have failed my son so many times. I cannot do it again. I have made my decision.

He squashed in to make enough room for the others, then promptly closed his eyes. If he didn't find his focus now, he would fail. He took a long slow breath, his frantic pulse slowing to a steady rhythm. [member="Adele Adonai"] had taught him an almost unparalleled level of mental control, but he needed to find his centre. Images of Tristan, lifeless on the burning battlefield that Coruscant would become were pushed away. He went somewhere else, with Bafforr trees and honeybees.

 

[Kira Vaal]

The Secret Path
Coruscant Undercity

Kira put another reaching hand forward, the pull of the magnetic sensors within the palm giving her a feeling where the next durasteel brace was located beyond the Phrik shell that currently housed her and several other members of the Galactic Alliance strike force.

Sweat was pouring from her head already as the glove connected and locked onto the metal beyond the frictionless pipe allowing the young Jedi Knight in training to pull herself up further towards the surface of Sith occupied Coruscant. Her attire was no more then a flight suit that had been stripped down to just the overall, anything and everything that would add extra weight and hinderance to the climb was left behind.

Only her lightsaber, a new acquisition, sat at her hip. The hilt of an aged design having belonged to Briana Sal-Soren, a Jedi from sometime in the distant past and according to Newka, the small info chant who had joined her on the Falcon, was the matriarchal ancestor of the Vaal line. She didn’t know how much truth was behind it all but right now the weapon was holding all of her trust even if it did feel un-natural for a girl who was so used to having a blaster.

She heard a call from someone up ahead, Mara probably declaring that they had reached the scheduled regroup point. The lights up in front continued to flicker as people made their way upwards towards the surface, Kira following in line.

Suddenly the wind rushed, Kira’s hands slipped and the magnetic pulse seemed to fail momentarily. Her form slid several metres in free fall down the tube as her fingers tried to grasp for something to hold onto. A quick thought was given to the climber beneath her with striking panic. Flicking her fingers upwards the jolt of the magnetic seal attaching itself once again sent a pain through her arm, but it was nothing compared to the relief of security.
“Whew that was close.” She pulled herself up again and continued the climb until with a heave she dragged herself into the maintenance nook where several had already assembled.

Deep breaths and massages of limbs seemed to be the common connection as the group rested, the oppressive feeling of dread that seemed to pour from overhead overcome with the steely determination of the Alliance strike force that were assembled around.

Kira took the time to stretch out as much as she could, clicking her neck several times all the time thinking with respect to her fellow Underground agents who apparently did this climb on near regular missions.

[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Meeristali Peradun"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]

 

[Kaili Talith]

Allies: [member="Micah Talith"] and [member="Vexen"]
Enemies: One Sith, holler at us broskis.
Mentioned: [member="Allyson Locke"], [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
Location: With Micah and Vexen
Objective: TBA.
Gear:

Spoiler

• Kaili’s Armor + Accessories
• Bracers of Salee
• Cloak of Aatrox
• Serenity of Inari
• Covenant Ring
• Bodo Baas Gunbelt
• Bobby Pins

Song: Empire

Two armored gloves rested against her nose ridge and brows as her armored elbows sought support from a matching couple of equally armored kneecaps. The youngest Talith was about to break the single greatest rule that she had held herself to, but just this once -- she told herself -- it would be for the greater good of it all. Her mind raced with the what-ifs in mental preparation for what she was about to witness, what she was about to cause. She couldn’t take her mind off of the fact that in a few hours people would die because of her. The imagery of innocent blood on her hands was not new to her. At least by now she had learned to live with it. Micah had been a wonder for that, Allyson too.

A deep breath inhaled through her mouth and exhaled through her nose. The last time she had seen Allyson they had been saying their farewells. A gloom mood had lingered in the air as if they had both accepted that this could be the last time they saw each other. It wasn’t the first time they separated, but it was the first time they both knew the risks that went with what either of them were about to do. The conversation still rung fresh on her mind.

Spoiler: Memory Lane

It was hard for it not to. Their embrace had been unbroken for minutes as both women rested their heads on each other’s shoulders. One of them was going planetside and another was going to be in the skies where they faced equal dangers both. At least Kaili found comfort in knowing neither of them would be alone. She would have Micah and Vexen while Allyson would have Rogue Squadron.

“It will be over before you know it.” Kaili had said as she let go of Allyson. “If everything goes as planned we will be crippling the One Sith in a way that many. Especially they themselves, had never thought possible.”

“I would be a fool to not help them now.”

It still lingered, part of her didn’t want to let go. A greater part of her screamed of the hazardous gamble that she made while dwelling on it, but through it she felt at ease. The ring on her finger calmed her nerves further and made everything bearable and through the force she gathered the last few straws of strength that she needed to proceed. Meditation had never been her game, but for now she played it regardless. Just this once as she helped scourge the galaxy of the evil that had dirtied and twisted its very core in more than just a literal sense. Just this once.

Her thumbs and index fingers separated from her nose and brows leaving a blunt sense of unease in their place as she turned to look at her brother. The worries washed away, a smile crept on her lips. At one point she had thought about joining with Mara but in the end she had decided to go with Micah. He was after all her brother and most of all her rock when things got extraordinarily rough. Or well, as much of a rock as any sibling was. It was hard not to think back on the last time they, or rather Micah, had been in a situation like this. Kaili had messed with him in a bad way. Changed up music, made escape harder than it had to be. There wouldn’t be a repeat of that. Just this once she swore to herself to by the very least try not to go too hard on him. But only just this once. They needed to work together as a unit for this and that meant practical jokes was not it.

“So, should we go over the plan again?” The girl asked for the third time within the last two hours. “Land, sneak around, destroy stuff, go home?” Kaili knew that was the wide sweep of it. She took a deep breath to stifle any last second nerves before touchdown before her eyes took a glance at the world outside their stolen shuttle. “That about it?”

The girl was right to be nervous, because just this once Kaili Talith was going to war. Just this once.

 

[Ecarht Arak]

Location: High in the skies. Watching Overhead.
Mission: Kill Rogue Frakkers! Blow Stuff Up.
NPC Allies: 12x Ki ES Mki Aces, Gladiator Squadron.
Surrounding NPC Fighter Fluff: 120/120 Ki IC Mki Interceptors -10 Squadrons. | 60/60 Ki SB Mki Bombers - 5 Squadrons.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MCjU-Du3eI
Get your dancing shoes. For all taking part. Win, Lose or Draw.

Kiss of the family holopictures at their lockers, gear checked, squadron acknowledging the dead with a nod, or going through their usual routines. Alarms blaring out to signal this was it. Wasn't long before all available local fighters were scrambled. No where near all of Coruscant's fighter defenses on their capital world, instead their local area around them, providing cover for the OS troopers, and difficulty for any alliance troops making their landing.

Diamond Formations for the Gladiators
Other Squadrons keeping their own choices. Diamond was tight, not letting their opponents know what might come, or how fast and close the aces could break, dangerously so for another squadron. Tight formation helped to mask how many fighters they had, just twelve of the most ruthless, coldblooded, sharp killers to ever sit in a cockpit. Gladiators were the best of the OS best among the flygirls, flying the best fighters the OS had. Simple orders anyone could get right, blast rogue squadron frakkers any way they could, simple, payback.

Banking the Ki ES fighter side to side, settling her butt in. Ecs scanned over the comm channels, and watched sensors for signs of enemy fighters. Keeping high altitude, because you needed that when atmo. Rookies would head to their deck early thinking they were back in space, like some of their own regular squadrons were. But Gladiators, no way... They were using the angle of the sun, the altitude, tight formations to disguise how many fighters were up there, the works.

"Board's clear." Her flight chief said, "Maintain combat silence until we have positive target confirmation."

Ecs twiddled her thumbs in their cockpit, paypack was gonna be a queen, her queen.

 

[Darth Abyss]

"It is indeed ... at least if you are a servant of the light."

The tall, hooded figure that was Abyss did not move his head to look at the other sith, as his eyes were closed but his face showed a small hint of a smile. Once again coruscant would be the climax of the battle between light and dark, between jedi and sith, between peace and passion. He could feel the battle around him, the despair and hate, the sweet taste of hopelessness was fuel for the fire of passion that burned away everything else inside him. To focus his mind on his negativ emotions he had recited the code of the sith again and again quietly, to be ready to unleash his force when the enemy would strike.

Suddenly he could feel something a glimpse of the force. He did not knew who or how many, not were and when but he could feel that they were coming. He had to to control himself to not run straight into the battle to end many lives and maybe his own in a massacre of red light and severed limps. No ... he would not make the same mistake so many did before him. The light was weak, but underestimating the enemy was an easy way to die earlie. This would not only be a battle of might, but also a battle of wits. The young sith opens his his yellow, almost glowing eyes to look at the other man besides him, while simultaneously giving orders to a group of soldiers with a few gestures. More whispered than spoken he says to the sith:

"Peace is a lie ..."

The leader of group of eight soldiers he had ordered before gave him a sign. He nods towards the other sith, and walks to the soldiers. He was focused on the dark side, using it to slowly spin a impenetrable net around himself, getting ready to cloak his physical and spiritual presence on the battlefield.

[member="Clovis Torcularis"] [member="Lisette Kuhn"] [member="Ugohr Poof"]

 

[Vexen]

[member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Micah Talith"]

"You two talk the plan, I'm kinda focused on step one!" Vexen cried out. The gunship they had stolen to escape the Sith carrier that had destroyed was remarkably loud now they were cutting through atmosphere. Easy handling in space was not replicated when trying to maneuver through the air at high velocity.

The peaks of coruscant rose up to meet them. Laser fore streaked through the air, as well as X-Wing and TIE fighters. There was civilian traffic in the air as well, despite warnings for citizens to stay grounded.

She veered between two peaks and dropped suddenly. The TIEs she'd seen coming for a closer looked decided to ignore them and engage the Alliance fighters. Their codes were from vessel supposedly lost in battle, so they had to avoid any close inspections.

 

[Taa Nul]

Location: Black Pyramid Ruins

Count Morcus had visited Coruscant many times in his youth, during his days as a lowly Jedi Padawan. He was quite familiar with it's history, and the multiple invasions it had endured over the course of millennia. He had recently been making ties with the One Sith in an attempt to ingratiate himself into their ranks, and what better way than defending their capital against sudden Galactic Alliance invasion. He had deployed two full regiments of his private army Supremus, over two thousand men, around the exterior of the ruined Black Pyramid, using it's broken husk as a makeshift Forward Operating Base. An energy shield generator had been erected in the center of the FOB, protecting it from aerial bombardment and long rang firepower, though ground troops and armour could still pass through it and engage at close range.

The Count had ordered his men to establish extra fortifications around the massive structure, prefabricated bunkers, turret defences and sandbag walls being erected around the perimeter within the shield, adding to the massive monolith's already considerable defensive grid. If anyone were to try and attack, they'd be in for one hell of a surprise. The Count himself would be leading the defense in person on the ground, and had dared anyone foolish enough to attack to come and have a go, if they felt worthy. He was more than prepared for any eventuality, and had a few surprises in store...


[member="Elaine Thul"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Secret Path
Coruscant Undercity

Maybe he was part of the group of Hounds, the ones slightly large for the confines of the chutes. While not tall, remnants of the cloning process left him with a stocky build similar to that of his original body. Of Reverance. He shook his head as he felt the clamps click against the durasteel beams, maintaining the suspension of the phrik tubing. It didn't really feel so much like climbing as it did...scooting. When clamps on the hands locked in place, he pulled a knee up. Then the other, and then the hands moved up to the next beam. Rinse and repeat.

It was more repetitive and tedious then truly troublesome or difficult. He had taken to the end of the line, to catch anyone that might have slipped. Bracing himself against the beams, he prepared to do just that with Kira. But she caught herself and he caught a bit of a reprieve, as he wasn't entirely sure about the whole trying to stop someone from sliding down the chute. Seemed more like a gesture of comfort than one of actual efficacy.

He recalled consoling Jacen, before their departure, ensuring him that they would find his son. And he wasn't entirely confident about it himself, given the tendencies of the Sith to treat their underlings like nothing but expendable pawns. Maybe he had spoken those words to Jacen but in turn, they were the words he needed to hear himself. Consoling both entities in one gesture, he found the idea soothing. That from all this harm and destruction and warfare, so many birds could be struck with a single stone. Thoughts came to him, with every clasp of magnetic grip against beam, as he wondered what [member="Avalore Eden"] would be doing to help this push. Or how Destin and Maud were likely running around the homestead, enjoying the early morning sun. The buzz of the bees, the movement of the Morodin, and the carefree life he had left to wage this war.

But it was this war that gave him the freedom to do so. Without the alliance, he might very well be dead. And with the threat of the One Sith, looming in the open, he could never truly feel safe. To create a peaceful universe for his children, family, and friends, he would sacrifice everything. Though he couldn't help but think about the words of [member="Spark Finn"] and how she warned of the dangers of the Triumvirate. He wondered if things would ever end or if this was merely a hole soon to be filled by another entity. Would the galaxy ever know peace?

Wrapping his fingers over the ledge, he pulled himself into the maintenance corridor and found ease in a moments rest. Looking towards the robot, to Jacen, and then back to the robot. He smiled and wiped his brow clean of the sheen of sweat. "You sure you don't want to nanny for the homestead? I've got an apron and some oven mitts that will do just fine."

The situation was serious, he knew, as he felt the impending pressure of the darkside nexus. While he could never truly fall to its temptation, given the consequences of the spirit transfer, he could appreciate the power and magnitude. A child, looking through the transparisteel at the silhouette of a monstrous Herglic, moving through slow currents of water. And in the sea of power, he took a seat and felt the press of his gear against his armorweave body suit. A Dissauder KD-30, utility belt, and a lightsaber. Ever since losing his own in the battle with Kaine, he had lost his passion for creating. Taking to a generic saber, it hardly epitomized his preferences. But given his tendencies of losing his lightsaber, it be less time spent mourning the likelihood.

Resting the back of his head against the metal wall, he closed his eyes and pictured the birth of the Zelosian child. He imagined the sound of fresh rain, the crinkle of dry leaves and the scent of honeysuckle. There were a thousand places he'd rather be than here. But this was where he was needed most. And that realization gave him strength in the face of the impending risks. To resume his mantle of Marshal, of Master, and of Friend.

[member="Lilin Imperieuse"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Kira Vaal"] [member="Meeristali Peradun"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]​