Brave The Whip And Brave The Stone [OS vs RA] [Coruscant Prison Break]

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The Togruta Sith Knight walked towards the speeder, leaving the penthouse behind. Technically, not his speeder, merely one he had acquired on loan for the purpose of this single trip. He didn't see much of Coruscant, in that most of his days were spent on his ocean pearl. Wheels were turning. To ensure that they not only remained in motion, but moved in the right direction, he made sure to be present to supervise the process.

He fit the appearance of your standard Sith. A bit of a traditionalist, he wore the well-fitting black tunics and the wider dark robes that were generally associated with the Sith. Similar to how he had dressed ever since a newly enlightened acolyte, yet he seemed to fit them much better now. Every time he came back to Coruscant, he seemed to have grown more imposing. This was much in thanks to his master, who had instilled him with certain values, both when it came to the Sith and the methods of their training.

That was the main reason for him being on Coruscant. While a Knight, he still worked with his master. He and Darth Vornskr had similar goals. Vornskr was making waves too, unsurprisingly. There was always a new campaign, and now, Pyrrhus was prepared for the next one. Beyond that, the Togruta had also wanted to explore his master's extensive library, as he had done in his very first week of the Sith. This time, it was a very specific ritual he was looking for, and he consulted Vornskr on the matter as well. He had told his dear Setzi that he would get to the bottom of it, and he was not about to neglect his promise.

Where Setzi was now exactly, he didn't know. She was not on their newly made home, he knew. Considering the time they spent together, this was hard to escape his notice. Though he knew she was seeking out other Sith. Some were contacts of his, others were of her own making. It pleased him, to see how she did not hide away and become a self-imprisoned captive in Sith territory, but instead slowly embraced it, seeking out knowledge, seeking to understand. He assumed this was the purpose of her trip, whereever it might have been to. It made the timing of his own trip rather convenient. Ironically, they were both on Coruscant, and didn't even know it. He didn't need to keep tabs on her, or be at all times aware of her location. She was strong, and this time he did not fear her walking away from him. Was this what trust was? Did he trust her? Suppose he did. More than the behavioral analysis of what an individual is more or less likely to do, the word trust meant something more when applied to her. The Pearl of Glee. His pearl.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

[member="Animus Malgus"] was in front of Trystis, still clouding the air with smoke, while Trystis simply paced. Didn't he know that seven days without sleep would kill someone? And even for that, the [member="Oddball"] he fought wouldn't break. He didn't intend to break Oddball. He wanted to shatter him.

He turned sharply towards the smug acolyte who faced him. The black-clad one was laughing. "Bet your life he would take my offer any second now."

All Trystis did was speak into his communicator. "Requesting prisoner transfer. Number forty-two - yes, I know that he's being interrogated right now, but I need to be alone with him." He turned towards Animus. "You have no understanding of what it means to be Sith. You chose this life - now live with it." Trystis's voice then dropped to a low whisper. "Or don't live at all."

He strode towards the tram that would take him to the prisons. He had some catching up to do.

 

[Sage Bane]

Inside the command center of the prison on Coruscant, Sage Bane lurked, his hands folded behind his back as he studied the interrogation playing out on live Holofeed. Not only was he an audience to [member="Oddball"]'s torture, but as a Hand of the Dark Lord, the Sith Lord naturally had full access to all prison communications on Coruscant in that very command center, and with a Rebel prisoner in custody, had been listening to every word. Understandably so. The youngest Hand had lead the charge for the One Sith's diplomatic coup of Csilla. His interests in seeing its Rebel attackers brought to justice were a matter of pride for the ambitious Sith Lord.

A thick, dark brow was raised when Sage heard a man's ([member="Trystis Ray"]) request for a prisoner transfer for the Rebel prisoner with whom his former Master [member="Matsu Xiangu"] was about to play. The next event was even more puzzling. The obviously incompetent warden authorized the inexplicable transfer, even though he had no authority to do so. It made no sense. By the red flame, why would the prisoner be transferred out of the hands of the Empress of Coruscant when there was so much information to extract? Very puzzling indeed. Either ineptitude abounded or there were shenanigans underway. Sage wasn't sure which was worse.

With a few clicks of his pale, thin fingers, the call was traced to the warden whose intelligence would now be called into question. A Holocall was made, and the man would nearly evacuate the contents of his bowels at the sight of the Hand standing before him with a dark grin. he did not indulge the warden with a greeting.

"There will be no Rebel prisoner transfer. That prisoner stays where he is until a Hand or a Voice says otherwise. If these instructions are not followed, your execution papers will be signed. Oh, and give me the name of the Sith who ordered the transfer. I would like to have a word with him."

Before the warden could stammer out an apology, the call was ended with an impatient click. Sage let out a long, dramatic sigh and turned back to watch the torture. In a few minutes, the name that Trystis Ray gave to the warden would be sent to Sage's datapad, and he could begin to pull a dossier on the man.

Incompetence everywhere.

[member="Reverance"]

 

[Mythos]

Animus Laughed at the Sith who now paced away from his ordering a Prisoner Transfer with his com.
"To be sith means to discard all sense of Honor?" Animus shouted Enraged at the Acolyte's impudence against him. "Striking and torturing a shackled defenseless man is the work of Grunts and worthless swine and i will not Stoop down the level of Scum" Animus had not noticed it, but his lightsaber was ignited and his stance was Aggressive and Pure. The Hum of the Blue lightsaber light the dim opaque landing ground next to his ship, Animus wanted to take his frustration out on this supposed Sith who now stood before him, Dishonor and Cowardice... That was what he thought of the Situation right now, An enemy no matter how hated if he showed courage the very least he deserved was a warrior's death. Not this.... Dishonor.
"You want to prove yourself Sith? Come then Dog! Show me what you are Capable of, show me the Power of your Dark Side" Animus Shouted in Fury as he Adopted his Stance, Lightsaber behind his head and one hand in front of him palm facing his Acolyte counterpart... of whatever he was, animus didn't care. His palm slowly turned towards himself gesturing with his four fingers to the Acolyte to come at him. Animus had enough, his rage was now at a boiling point.
"What's the matter? aren't you Sith?" Animus said Grinding his teeth in Vicious Rage, He wanted to ripp. SOMETHING Apart. He was hoping the Acolyte would give vent for his cluttered frustration... at the very least an outlet for his rage. [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"Um, sir." The warden's voice was tinted with the unmistakable tones of fear when it came from his communication device. "The prisoner transfer has been canceled on the orders of the Lord Hand, [member="Sage Bane"]. He, well, he wanted to speak with you."

A Hand - one who knew the will of the Supreme Master himself. Trystis would not show his fear - but he knew that he had, for some reason, crossed one of the most powerful Sith in the galaxy - and when he heard the ozone hiss of a lightsaber, he was aware that he had crossed a few others also.

"Tell the Hand I may be a bit late. It seems that someone wants to kill me."

"Sir - was that a joke?"

"I only wish it was." He slid the metallic disc into his pocket.

"What's the matter?" [member="Animus Malgus"] said. "Aren't you Sith?"

"Yes." Trystis said curtly. "I know that honor clouds one's vision. Consider your challenge refused. Put away that Jedi dueling toy - you'll put your eye out with a stance that wide."

As he walked away with a smile on his face, he closed his eyes, touching the dark currents of emotion within him. He was ready.

[member="Oddball]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Try as she might, she couldn’t stifle a laugh as he delivered his lines. The glaring lights of the interrogation cell glinted off the vial of poison she held up as she pulled some in to a syringe. It was cocktail of her own design, dozoisian shark venom engineered to remove its lethality but increase its other properties – namely, the characteristic acid-like burning and eating of flesh.

“Now, now. My Mother was alive until about three years ago. Pretty nice woman.”

She put down the vial, tapping the syringe and pushing out any air, the liquid that escaped sizzling loudly on contact with oxygen. She didn’t really have to explain herself to something she considered a fleshy obstacle to her goal, but he was entertaining. What else might he say!? Turning, she closed the few feet between them, appraising him before black eyes rimmed in amber turned to his face.

“And I didn’t kill her. She died in her sleep.”

Her delicate cybernetic reached to grip his arm in a hold more punishing than it appeared capable of as she angled the needle towards the pulsing vein in his forearm. The pain would be excruciating, a compound meant to deliver death save only for her constant tinkering, a mindless force that delighted in sweeping through his bloodstream and burning away flesh. Only for a minute or two. But that was sometimes more than enough.

[member="Oddball"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Trystis Ray"]​

 

[Mythos]

"Better to be clouded in Honor that to be Shining in Cowardice!" Animus spat. Still in stance but slowly realizing the hypocrisy of his actions.
Not a few weeks ago he was advocating and speaking his mind of the unity and brotherhood the Sith Lacked and the Jedi had, and how it had lead to the Deaths of countess empires, yet here he was seconds away from slicing a fellow Acolyte in half for little reason that his own frustration.

Animus flicked off the lightsaber and exhaled deeply, laying back on his ship once again, lighting his last deathstick. *Tsk* Figures" Animus said realizing he was down to his last one.
Either way Animus was not leaving Orbit with this weather, he could... he just rather not, He had a bad experience once when a dogfight exercise in naboo went south killing 4 because of a massive storm. Animus was the Only survivor and avoiding major injury to the amazement of his superiors.

Animus mind trailed off again... he was out of line, lips parting as he saw the smoke dancing in his eyes he with a sad thought realized he owed the Fellow Acolyte an Apology, at the very least a drink. Prideful as Animus was he was not above that. He had Honor. and he had [member="Oddball"] to thank for reminding him of that, of putting him in that position where he needed to make that call, was he Sith Warrior? or a Murdering Monster? He knew now. As far as he would ever go, Honor would come first. Of course, he would still kill him if he saw him on the battlefield, but at least, he would kill him. Not torture him, depart his head from his shoulders.

[member="Trystis Ray"]

 

[Juwiela Melec]

Theme

Retribution. Rebellion. The two words went hand-in-hand when it came to the Rebel Alliance, or at least, that was how it seemed lately. After an attack on the Sith on the recently taken planet of Csilla, the Alliance had been a veritable buzzing hive of activity. Once the general commotion had died down, their focus had been centralized on one goal: rescuing one of their own that had been captured. There was no doubt in any of their minds that it would be a difficult task, and each and every one of them knew full well that they were laying their lives on the line simply by fighting against the Sith in the first place. But they were Rebels. This was what they did, how they lived. This was normal.

For her own part Juwiela had been briefed on what action those soldiers on the ground would take, though she wouldn't be assisting them directly in their endeavors as part of the group. No, she would be in her own element, up in the air where she belonged. There were two parts to this plan. The Rebel marines would infiltrate the prison itself, their intention to free their comrade and fall back. The Rogues, however, had a different agenda. With such a large number of Sith congregated in one area, the Temple proper on Coruscant was likely largely undefended. They would be playing the part of the distraction by bombing the very temple that their enemy trained in. Their reputation had to come from somewhere.

None of them were anticipating a dogfight today, and with good reason. They would be flying the Nevermores, a ship specifically commissioned for its stealth capabilities. The Sith IFF tags that had been stolen in the initial strike were also being put to use, rendering the squadron figuratively invisible. To the eyes of any security or sensors, they were just another detachment of the Sith navy, and that was just the anonymity they needed. By the time anyone caught on to the ruse - hopefully once the Sith Temple was in flames - it would be too late for any defensive action to be taken. Their adversaries would say what they wanted about the Alliance, but no one could claim that they ever came to a fight unprepared.

An air of tension accompanied the squadron, nerves and worries no doubt working their way through each pilot as they approached their target. They were striking at the very heart of the Sith, a message that would no doubt resound across the galaxy. Worried they might have been, but none were afraid. This was what they had trained for, what they fought for in every battle above every planet they had gained. Now was the ultimate test, and one she was more than ready for. To strike here meant exposing the inherent weaknesses that accompanied the enemy regardless of what bold claims were made. This meant showing the galaxy that the Sith weren't as infallible as they appeared. They were just as typical as anyone else.

"This is Rogue Leader. All wings, report in." Time and time again those same words had been uttered, but now it seemed as if their flavor had changed. "It's game time, boys and girls. This isn't just another target on a planet being occupied by our Imperial friends. This is Coruscant, the Jewel of the Core and what the Sith call home. And we're here to bomb their Temple all to hell." That last sentence was uttered with a crooked smile that would no doubt be detectable even through the secure comms that connected the pilots. She was nervous, yes, but excitement and anticipation won out. It was showtime, and she was keen to demonstrate just what the Rebels were capable of.

[member="Sannika Brynn"], [member="Thane Drexel"], [member="Oddball"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Trystis Ray"], [member="Animus Malgus"], [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], [member="Blane Nightfall"]

 

[Beowoof]

Something was stirring in the underground.

Well, it had been for a while. Years, in fact. But not until recently had the shuttered commotion included the voice of this little resistor. Rebels came in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and this one was no exception to the rule. A bit of backstreet cred never hurt anyone when they were assembling a backstreet insurrection.

Coruscant had so much to it that it was nearly impossible to uncover even the most blatantly visible cells--though some were caught and subjected to who-knows-what on occasion. Generally, however, there was plenty of room to hide and plenty of Sith fell prey to the traps and ambushes set up by the Coruscanti Resistance. The ecumenopolis harbored riffraff of all varieties, and it would prove to be an eternal task to smoke out the steadily spreading sparks of rebellion that were to see the day the Republic was to finally return to its homeworld. For it was not only the homeworld of the Republic, but also a fair percentage of the galaxy's population throughout all history. Many people called it home.

And the Sith were not welcome on their threshold, no matter how comfy they had made themselves within the last decade. For one, Suka did not appreciate having her mostly-legal business transactions being ruined or her once-desired college education wrought with Sith indoctrination. And any power that goes out to massacre innocents regularly for a 'good time' deserves to be feared, despised, and overthrown. There were people of many nations, species, creeds, lifestyles, and legalities subjugated under the Sith banner. But even those who generally disagree on most things will find themselves united against some fascist, cultist, and just outright stupid authoritarians, no matter how many orphanages and soup kitchens they found for the sake of propaganda.

As long as they preserved the memory of the times before, there would always be a resistance. Until the days of light return, however overcast those skies may have been. There was simply nothing worse than this, and that deserved nothing but a Rebellion.

And so the Resistance unit under Pozhaluysta's direction (callsign: Little Birdy Blue), received the details about a foreign cell detained within their sector by the most untraceable of mediums: pen and paper. Suka returned the signal via a series of flashes from a mirror.

Red rover, red rover.

 

[Vrag]

There was little love lost between Vrag and space, and yet she had found herself spending most of her days with her fleet; universe always did have a taste for irony. It was simply more… pragmatic, the Hand had realized after a while, and she was nothing if not practical, even when it might cause her some discomfort. She'd simply learned not to glance through the viewport too often — though the panorama would be splendid, with all of its Maladis, Wyyrloks and even some Black Blades to boot — and the firrerreo could forget that she was adrift in a great expanse of nothing for almost indefinite spans of time.

You see, the reason why she'd ultimately conceded to living conditions she didn't favor the most was, in truth, a very simple one; efficiency.

Her position often required of her to traverse great distances in mere seconds, demanding her presence here and there, often at two opposing sides of the Galaxy. It was her natural inclination to make sure she could be there at a moment's notice… and so she was.

Because really, what exactly were CEDF IFF tags doing roaming the skies of Coruscant?

Chiss space was light years away from the core, and the few that wandered that deep usually came in with the rest of the Sith soldiers, who in turn flew Sith ships.

Combining that particular oddity with he fact that Csilla had been raided not long ago by a very vehement group of so-called rebels, who, according to their own manifesto, were 'fighting the good fight', brought some interesting questions to mind. Clearly they had taken some pages from the Dark Lord's book, or perhaps bombing runs and civilian slaughter were simply the new fad in those circles.

Who knows?

It would be downright suicidal, trying to attack the Jewel of the Sith crown. For all its glitter and fame, Coruscant was as deadly as it was brilliant, and the sneaking suspicion in her gut — otherwise called the Force — was itching something fierce today. Most likely because tags had been stolen in that raid, and appearing so conveniently again, and at their front door no less, could mean little good. It helped, of course, that the jewel was protected not only by vigilant fleets, but also by layers of orbital defenses and planetary shields, and that knowledge alone put her mind to rest somewhat.

Not entirely, however.

"Rev, have your defense people look into that mess around the IFFs. Something's not right," she muttered into the perennially open channel while eyeing the cigars on her table with a lustful gaze. Later, she reminded herself sternly and closed the lid with a snap, rising from her chair before she could give in to temptation.

"I swear, if anyone was stupid enough to come here…" she went on as long strides took her down well-traveled corridors. "I'll mobilize a fifth of the grounders, if someone hasn't already, and get a few of our fighters in position around those shady karkers."

Her speech cut out for a moment as she ordered two of her Twelve with her into a smaller shuttle she was preparing to board, and then her voice returned, the prospect of conflict bleeding into her timbre.

"If they so much as fly wrong, we'll blast them to Nether."

[member="Oddball"] [member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Setzi Lunelle"] [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Suka Pozhaluysta"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Juwiela Melec"]​

 

[Oddball]

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Darth Ferus"]

"I'm sorry to hear that, your mother that is. I mean she must be a sweet lady, she mothered a bundle of joy like you. Popped out a edgy Sith Lord, must of been so proud of your lifestyle." Oddball said and paused as he looked at the vile that she was preparing.

"My mother was a test tube and my father was a witch elder, pretty dysfunctional family right? But my mother worked hard to raise me and my ten thousand brothers and sisters." Oddball chuckled a bit and took in a deep breath as the syringe was readied and being pressed against his skin.

"Oh so it's that kind of party huh? Well you're the host you should have the first hit, really generous of you though. But you're doing it wrong, you never start with the drugs. Always with brute force to assert your dominance. Oddball said as he winced and watched the needle plunge into his arm.

Then one of the worst sensations of pain a person could feel spread across Oddball's arm. Screaming in pain the cocktail started working all but instantly, bucking and squirming in agony Oddball kept strong but the pain was wearing and horrifying. A deep internal burning sensation spread from his arm to his shoulder and his body, burning and causing a pain that was overwhelming to the senses.

"KARK YOU KARK YOU KARK YOU, YOU queen!!" Oddball screamed again and coughed heavily as his body spasmed uncontrollably.

After a minute or so the sensation and Oddball hung there from his chains his body torn apart internally from Matsu's little cocktail. Spitting out some blood Oddball coughed lightly and let out a humorous scoff afterwards.

"I was mistaken, just lead with that." he said with another cough and rattle of the chains.

"Okay, I'm ready to talk." He said with the look of a broken man.

"The secret base, I'll write it on a piece of paper and mail it. Just when you write it down the address on the envelope make sure it reads Your Ass." Oddball said still very weak.

"Let me spell it I know you Sith aren't very smart. Y-O-U-R A-S-S. It's really important that you remember this, and make sure the senders address is my boot." Oddball said his voice fading a little.

 

[Mythos]

Animus heard the request of fighters over the com and was more than happy to oblige.
He popped open the canopy of his Z-95 Headhunter. "R-6 disengage landing and engage suspensions"
*R-6 relayed commands and prepared for take off*
Animus hated bad weather flying, but it was fine considering he needed something to shoot.
Once a few seconds into flight speed he engaged thrusters on mid and relaxed in the cockpit setting up everything calmly.
reaching to his com he said. "Copy that this is Specter One moving to engage suspected vehicles in question. "
[member="Vrag"]

 

[Thane Drexel]

[member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Suka Pozhaluysta"] [member="Oddball"]
[member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

Piloting the Chiss shuttle he stole on the last mission. Along with Juwiela's stolen IFF's, Thane plotted his way to the rondesvou with the squadron of stealth bombers in tow. His men([member="Blane Nightfall"]) in the back we locked and loaded with everything the Rebels had. Their man was down there and it was a Benefactors job to protect his men.

Thane failed the first time, but he wouldn't this time. It was easy, the Sith were dumb and arrogant, they'd never expect an attack this quickly. Ever since the second Invasion of Geonosis, the Rebels went underground and have since been unseen. Now that the Sith had taken the first shot, the Rebels would come out of hiding to bring [member="Oddball"] back.

Thane prepared for landing with the men ready to kill every Sith in their way to their man.

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

If anything, the dim illumination from the Coruscanti cityscape offered a measure of peace and tranquil. The speeder had a closed roof. He could not smell the fumes from the industrial world. All his senses were met with was the beauty of Coruscant, but not its cost. Darth Pyrrhus had concluded his business on Coruscant. Naturally, his next destination had been the hangar. As no other distractions had popped up on the way there, the trip had gone smoothly.

The still unnamed Shadow-class Reconnaissance Corvette was there waiting for him. It was a good ship, and it had served him well so far. It offered a certain level of discretion to his affairs, that he had appreciated greatly. But he was reaching that point where even that was not enough, and he craved more, always more.

Pyrrhus was met with a Nautolan officer, running down the ramps as the Togruta's presence became known. His face had no look of panic or distress, though he seemed eager to deliver his message sooner rather than later. While he knew better than to interrupt the Sith, and dictate how he went about his business, he also knew that this one liked to stay informed. And this was just in. "Sir! There has been a call for fighters to get in the air. A number of fighters have subsequently been launched. They appear to be on increased alertness, sir." he looked upon his master with a look of unsure confusion, seeming to question his message. 'Is this important? Kark, I really hope this is important' Bothering Sith with unnecessary reports could be a brief hobby.

"Was that message meant for you?" the Togruta replied with no efforts made to cover up his scepticism. "N-no sir... It's Braxton. He can't get enough of the stuff." The name made Pyrrhus roll his eyes. It said it all. Of course their resident slicer would be listening in on all the chatter. He was one of those very few who the Sith Knight tolerated, despite testing his patience on numerous occasions. He was simply that good. His usefulness outweighed his unpredictability. The Nautolan had been a part of that elite unit of ten that had been growing closer ever since Ord Mirit. "Is it a drill?" was the routine follow-up question. "I don't know, sir. But yes, I believe so." Who in their right minds would dare attack Corsucant? When that day came, he would expect a fleet, big enough to eliminate the question 'Is it a drill?'

Pyrrhus stopped. It wasn't that he didn't believe the man, but he was checking in with a more reliable source, one not victim to sentient error. If the Force told him nothing, but this man did... Well, it didn't tell him nothing. He felt it... Something was not right. "It's not a drill." the naked hatred, with a touch of fury, suddenly present in the Togruta's voice made the officer take a step back. "Alert the ship. I want everyone to their stations now. Get us up in the air and be ready to engage any incoming hostiles. Get in contact with the orbital fleet and get a read on the situation. I want to know what's going on." Having given his orders, the Knight now moved aboard the ship with urgency. "Yes sir! I'll immedi-" "Just do it!" Of course, it could be nothing. His senses could be playing a trick on him. Perhaps his sense of uneasiness came from elsewhere. Was Setzi in danger, on whatever distant planet she was on? In any case, he was on edge.

[member=Thane Drexel] [member=Animus Malgus] [member=Oddball] [member=Vrag] [member=Suka Pozhaluysta] [member=Juwiela Melec] [member=Matsu Xiangu] [member=Trystis Ray] [member=Sage Bane] [member=Reverance] [member=Setzi Lunelle] [member=Darth Veles] [member=Darth Ferus] [member=Ruby Veir] [member=Nulgath Zardai]​

 

[Setzi Lunelle]

As she was just about to start the contract negotiations, Setzi's attention was drawn to a large monitor tuned to HNN. A panicked newscaster broadcasted a breaking news bulletin because obviously when fighters are on alert across Coruscant, information leaks out and journalists catch wind.

"Turn that up!" someone shouted across the café. The bartender raised the volume:

This just in... an attack on Coruscant is imminent. Sith Navy and Military could not be reached for comment but there are eyewitnesses that say that fleets are amassing by air and the Galactic City garrison is on the highest alert. More sources say…

Setzi turned away from the screen, and this time, did leave her credit chit on the bar. The red-haired assassin was now the least of her worries. The Acolyte didn't want to die here on Coruscant! She needed to escape, but she had taken a shuttle to the Core World as her starship was still being repaired on Glee Anselm. Besides, with this type of news, public transport would be jammed and panicked. She would be better off heading to the garrison and offering to join the resistance. At least she would be safe there and possibly she could even lend her hand as a pilot. During her time with the Silver Jedi, Setzi had taken flying lessons with Coren Starchaser and while she wasn't an expert, she was a passable pilot. But would passable be good enough to combat an incoming fleet of starfighters?

She dashed out of the café, making her way to the nearest garrison. While walking along, she sent off a message to [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], hoping he would not be mad at her for not disclosing her whereabouts.

//incoming transmission…

To: Tanek Santii
From: Setzi Lunelle

I'm on Coruscant and it's under attack. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm heading to the Galactic City garrison. I'll contact you once I'm in the air.

//outgoing transmission…

Once the Acolyte was at the garrison, she was sized up for her piloting acumen and granted use of a Blade. Since she wasn't part of the Sith Navy, the Lieutenant was skeptical and put her on civilian patrol duty. Setzi suited up and climbed into the cozy starfighter, noting the astromech droid who could help her with navigation and on-the-spot repairs. At least she wouldn't be alone in the air which was of some comfort to her, even if it wasn't an organic companion.


[member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Oddball"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Suka Pozhaluysta"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Ruby Veir"] [member="Nulgath Zardai"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Avreet resisted the urge to growl in frustration as the prisoner’s interrogation turned into yet another torture session. Did these people ever learn?! All questions concerning the efficiency of such ways aside – the Mon Cal knew fully well most of the Sith wannabes did not torture for information, but only because they enjoyed causing pain to another. There was no doubt about the woman’s sadistic streak, the horrific display of cruelty making him cringe in discomfort, turning his gaze away before anything more bloody and messy unfolded behind the window.

The prisoner might have been a terrorist, a murderer, yet no crime justified this kind of unethical treatment, especially coming from someone who considered themselves to be Sith, intelligent and civilized people who employed the arts of guile and persuasion to extract the information they needed; only brutes resorted to savagery. The man deserved to be interrogated the proper way, then executed for his crimes, not tortured for this [member="Matsu Xiangu"]’s twisted pleasure cloaked behind the reason of interrogation. Lady Zarrah was truly the wisest of all Sith and her amphibious apprentice found himself wishing he had followed her brave example; abandoning this growing hive of Dark Jedi that shamed all Sith by using their name and titles, as if merely declaring oneself a Sith made it true.

The room suddenly became strangely small and the Mon Cal felt a sense of unease washing over his moist skin as if stabbed by the needle as well, yet his mind could not accurately imagine what kind of poison the “interrogation tool” has been coated with. The “one Sith” at least put on a frown to display his growing frustration with the Dark Jedi, various thoughts racing through his mind as he considered marching into the room and decapitating the witch while she was distracted – but such act would have been foolish given the army of Dark Jedi between him and the nearest starfighter. No, his anger remained shackled by the indestructible mantra reigning his over all of his actions, only adding to the powerful sensation of hatred he felt for the One Sith, the same sensation connecting him to the Dark Side.

His gaze moved away from the interrogators, amber orbs darting to the camera overlooking the scene. Did someone actually watch this? Shaking his large head, the amphibian swiftly retreated outside and took a deep breath, striding through the prison's bland hallways. His apprentice needed some training - she had to be taught the ways of Sith before becoming just like these... monsters. If only he managed to turn one, just one of the weak Acolytes into a Sith! Unfortunately, fate showed little mercy to the last Sith in the One Sith, leaving his and Lady Zarrah's legacy uncertain. Knowing he might be the last Sith in the galaxy almost broke the Mon Cal's heart - mainly because of Zarrah. He could not fail the beautiful Sith Lady, he could not let all her wisdom and knowledge just... vanish into nothingness!

[member="Oddball"] [member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Sage Bane"]

 

[Blane Nightfall]

"...And so they all gathered in one place, those from the same mother, for they will be the dawn that breaks the night..." These were Blane's words in his journal just before the mission, before to be so close to the temple, he was ready with all weapons he needed, ready to be a weapon of destruction if that was what it takes to bring Oddball back. He then looked at his men with a serious face "The sith thinks you are weak... a broken people, simple terrorists that will run like little puppies... Is it terrorism to defend the weak? Is it terrorism to fight for freedome?! Do WE kill without mercy? Do WE slaughter innocents? Are you going to be afraid of someone who does such a coward act of "war"?! Prepare yourselves, for if anything goes wrong today, we will fight the sith with our bullets, with our knives or with our bare hands!" As soon as the lieutenant finished talking a the men begun cheering, not loud but enough to show him that they are ready for this, that in the middle of disaster, there will be no fear. "Havoc team is ready, Benefactor." He said to Thane with smirk on his face, he was the one piloting this ship and the one that in Blane's eyes will lead the rebels to victory today.

[member="Thane Drexel"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Setzi Lunelle"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Oddball"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"] [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Sage Bane"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Reverance"] [member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Reverance]

Miles propped his feet onto the console with a loud thud, caf in one hand a datapad in the other. Scrolling across the holonet, he began to read the daily news. Flicking through the stories at random, he pressed the end of his finger against the crystal display so hard that the tip of his finger turned white. Laughing, he began to read aloud.

"Local authorities have captured a teenage thief, 17 years of age. After stealing expensive gems from a jewelry broker, while the shop was closed, the thief attempted to resale the gems. He was apprehended after attempting to sale them the day after the crime...to the vendor from whom he originally stole." He spit up his caf onto the data pad and attempted to wipe the screen clear of the brown fluid, shaking his head. "No way that happens in real life..."

Lights began to flash across the screen as IFF codes were incoming through the channel feeds. He leaned forward and began maneuvering through the signal. It was common place for a nation constantly under attack to realize the intricacies of such things - in essence, it becomes harder to maintain friendships. First, IFF codes are given installation origins within the feed. Then, should they reside from a separate community, they are given a fingerprint. Still friend or foe, just deciding on whether to pop out the good wine or go with the swill. And it just so happens that the IFF codes streaming across the screen were Chiss Ascendancy. Had that cow bell not worked, running low on caf, Miles may have missed it. But he wasn't paid the big bucks to sleep on the job so instead, he opened the public airwaves.

::Incoming vessels. You have been red flagged with utilization of currently prohibited IFF codes. Please identify yourself and provide alternate IFF codes.::

He was playing coy, of course, because despite the fact that currently sensors weren't picking up vessels per say, gravimetric readings were showing relatively odd fluctuations despite the near cessation of incoming vessels. And it seemed that the world was on fire now, everyone seemed to have a grasp of the situation. In the end, you don't use IFF codes taken from a planet that was recently attacked, with the wound so fresh. He shook his head again at the irony and opened up the communications to a particular Sith Lord, his Teleute roaming just outside the grasp of atmosphere. While doing so, he began implementing outer atmosphere defenses to prevent incoming vessels.

~~~​

​

::What was your name again?:: He said, speaking into the hidden communicator.
::Miles, sir.::
::Thank you for your work Miles. Listen carefully. Ground side, fire up defense emplacements. If you can't see them, aim for what you can: target contrails of anything entering atmosphere. Fire up the CGT array...::
::It's a bit out of date and has limited range.::
::Double up power to the array, get double the crew out there and pump up the energy. I'll push alternately out and attempt to determine any sort of gravitational disturbances that seem out of place.::
::You can do that?::
::Well...we can try. To work now Miles.:: The Yammosk about the Teleute was a magnificent creature, only the Yun'O knew it's true limitations.

Turning the communication over, he spoke to [member="Vrag"].

::Yes, we realize their errors even if they find shelter in complacency.::

Some might wonder why Reverance, the Wrath, would be near Coruscant. The truth was that the the person whom he cared the most for rested on the planet as Warden. And just now, he would lock in on her location and transmit a message from a datapad across encrypted channels.

::The Bovine seem to have escaped the pasture and are intent on causing a ruckus. Doing anything important right now?:: - [member="Matsu Xiangu"]

Walking out from his wooden room of books and laquer, he approached a shaper and spoke quietly.
"Discourse with the Yammosk, put out feelers for local gravitational anomalies."
"What sort of range?"
"As far as it can go."
"Of course."

He nodded as she strode off before he found his way to a vestibule to don his armor. Nearby, the Immortal would retain a sense of discretion in preparation of command from the Wrath.

[member="Thane Drexel"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Setzi Lunelle"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Animus Malgus"] | [member="Oddball"] | [member="Juwiela Melec"] |[member="Matsu Xiangu"] | [member="Trystis Ray"] | [member="Sage Bane"] | [member="Blane Nightfall"] | [member="Darth Ferus"] | [member="Vrag"]

 

[Thane Drexel]

[member="Reverance"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Setzi Lunelle"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] [member="Animus Malgus"] [member="Vrag"] [member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Matsu Xiangu"]
[member="Oddball"] [member="Juwiela Melec"] [member="Suka Pozhaluysta"]

Thane looked at the con a when the call came through from the Sith control tower. Blane's rousing speech to the men was quit poetic. Thane patted Blane on his shoulder. The codes were flagged and needed changing. Thane through down an old IFF tag that went back to Coruscanti local pilots. When he was a freighter in the smugglers guild, it would come up as a merchant ship coming from the Chiss territory.

"Alright boys, lock and load, we are going to come in hot. Plan on resistance and possible Sith presence. We need to find a way to the main holding cells, I can get us there through service entrences, but once inside we will need to hack our way through."

Thane sent a ping to the Nevermores to go hot as soon as the Sith realized the ploy, to go all out.

 

[Juwiela Melec]

It seemed this time the Sith were on their toes, covering all bases and not wasting any time in scrambling their defenses. A stark contrast to Csilla, when the Rebels had been met with little resistance, sans those that had put up a fight in the end. That had thrown a bit of a wrench in things, cumulating to their arrival on Coruscant and this new challenge they had been presented with. A dogfight was nothing new, and Juwiela acknowledged the notification that had been sent to the squadron. "Light 'em up once they're within range. This ride's about to get a little bumpy." Not that fighting every step of the way to obtain a goal was anything unusual.

Now all there was left to do was wait until they were inevitably engaged by any Sith pilots. She wasn't exactly counting on a squadron or two being sent out. To her knowledge, the Sith didn't have a starfighter corps quite as organized as the Alliance. One advantage they had always had on most every adversary was their competence in the air. No one had quite been able to match the proficiency of the Rogue pilots, a factor that was always comforting. It meant that they outclassed their enemies on some front. Flicking a switch, she opened up a line to [member="Thane Drexel"]. "You should know better than to doubt the Rogues, Benefactor. They won't be getting past us."

Carefully she studied the skies about the squadron, noting the approaching presence of two pilots. Both were Sith, unsurprisingly, but that wasn't her concern. The ships they flew were, and although she could only see the outline of their vessels, she would be able to recognize them should the make register as anything familiar. And one of them did. One of the pilot's ([member="Animus Malgus"]) was familiar. This was one she had encountered above Csilla, the two not having much of a chance to exchange blows before she and the rest of the Alliance jumped to lightspeed. All she could do was crack a smile. "Is he seriously flying a karking Headhunter? Nice to know somebody wants to make it easy for us."

The other starfighter appeared to be of the more modernized sort, though it and the pilot were equally unfamiliar. Both hadn't flown within range just yet, but she was more than ready for just that. No false moves were made, and she wouldn't break formation until a shot was fired in their direction beforehand. There wasn't any reason to drop the ruse until they were fired on. Better to have them think a mistake was made than indicate they were fighting Rebels right away. But when they were engaged, she intended to make the Sith regret the day they ever thought it was a wise choice to cross the Rebel Alliance. They had a reputation to upkeep and a bounty to raise, and she intended to contribute to both.

[member="Reverance"], [member="Sage Bane"], [member="Darth Veles"], [member="Setzi Lunelle"], [member="Darth Pyrrhus"], [member="Vrag"], [member="Trystis Ray"], [member="Matsu Xiangu"], [member="Oddball"], [member="Suka Pozhaluysta"]