Invasion Break of Dawn || CIS Invasion of BOTM held Rhand

[Felix Aquila]

S U R V I V E​

Allies: CIS
Enemies: ???
Equipment:

• - Light-saber
• - Personal Shield
• - Armourweave Clothing

Meanwhile, On the Ground.​

The four commandos had found trinket pertaining to the younger brother of Felix Aquila, there were tracks that showed signs of them being dragged and manhandled through the streets of port sorrow to the ships that would ultimately lead them. Comms began to buzz as the frequency jammers began to take effect, the wavelength that they operated on was not powerful enough to break through the blockage grade jammers upon the ships, effectively cutting their range in half as the signal could penetrate through some of the mess short wave. Engaging through the streets with what remnants there were, it wasn't long before the Turbolasers began to become a problem. Detonating entire buildings, the ground forces, shuttles that attempted to land and escape with others and more.

The Ground was chaos.

"Sir! I'm not sure if we're going to be able to get through this! We need to turn back!" One of the followers shouted, fear in his voice as the screams of nearby assailants were drowned out by the thundering booms of the radiant destruction which shook the earth as godly hammer blows to the earthen anvil. Moments before the commander was ready to agree, they rounded a corner to spy the bodies of several dead agents and slavers. Loosened chains laying on the ground as one of the remaining scouts rushed to them.

"Seems some of them may have made a break for it... in a war like this, seems possible. They probably took the chance to break free when the bombardment began!" Several slaves were dead, shot, but there were too many chains. There had been an escape here, there was almost no chance of the survival of the others, there was no cover to this hellish thermonuclear rain. But, they had hope. Charging through the streets, stray blasts as the rallying squad would pick up Mawite stragglers, scanners searching for life signs only to find a small group hiding beneath the streets themselves.

"Down there! We have Bio signs!"

Without missing a beat, a breach charge was laid, a nearby detonation nearly throwing them to the earth as they crouched to ground themselves. Using their energy shields to protect them from the disruptor charge, erasing the ground from existence as they would find among the six who huddled for dear life, three slaves escorted by some semblance of an armed civilian. The Soldiers called to them to get out, they needed to escape this place. Hurling down a repulsar-field generator extracting the wounded and scared would be easy, catching them as they would veritably fly into the waiting arms of the commandos who would grab them, and begin to run.

Among the survivors, an ashen haired boy, no older than 14 with olive skin and brilliant blue eyes which seemed to hold their colour even through the dust and bleak sepia landscape. "Are you Alex Aquila!?" The boy would look up, surprised. Nodding as he would notice the symbol of house Aquila printed clearly on their armour. His house. his family. Tears would begin to flow as he would begin to cry, scooped up by one of the men as they would begin to run as fast as they possibly could.

"We have the target! We have to go!" They were in the heart of Port Sorrow, they had a good ten minutes to get back to a place where they could exfiltrate from. . . Finally, some good news. At least something could come out of all of this! But as an explosion rocked the very core of the Port, they had moments to react, diving into some of the maintenance underground and putting up a shield, they would begin to run below the surface, insulated from some of the chaos.

_______________ Felix _________________​

Felix would swat his saber through what appeared to be another copy of Blade Ice , but it gave him the potential to escape the man as something in the force was screaming itself into existence. More than one something, a terrifying power far greater than anything he could have hoped to contend with was bearing down on port Sorrow as the Turbolaser rain was beginning to reach their location. Rather than turning to fight, he would simply charge into the midst of the port where the sitting man had been guarding, leaving the sphere of darkness behind him to obscure his escape as he would cloak himself in the force long enough to leave the man behind. If he was relying on force sight and mentalism, the ironclad mind of the Knight Obsidian was like an unassailable fortress, and the arts of the Disciples of Twilight were king when it came to the art of stealth.

Many of the ships and shuttles at the port had been destroyed, there was nothing that could be done about a mass exodus, but he could feel the weight of the dead of this place permeating the air, only to feel the presence being drawn away, consumed by something in the distance. "Commander, did you find him? what's your position!?" Felix would all but yell into his coms, the deafening sound of silence and interference as something was jamming his signals bubbled his frustration to the surface, yelling as he'd repeat the sentiment. The red cracks in his eyes began to grow as he'd let out a frustrated cry, slamming his com-link up against the wall, it shattering in response as he would run for one of the ships here.

An outfitted RZ-1, it was old, but in relatively good condition aside from pressure cracks through its frame. All but leaping into the ship, Felix would prime it for lift off. Slamming the ignition, nothing happened. What? No! He would slam it again, flicking switches, double checking fuel and engine composure as it seemed they were fine then hitting the button again. Nothing.... His fists curled, and the visions came. Freezing in place, muscle memory caused him to open a panel, bypassing two wires quickly as he would press the button calmly, lost in trance as the ship would rocket from its position and soar skyward.

Felix's world was awash with red, his dark-sight allowing him to evade Turbolaser blasts in the high mobility ship as if he'd already done it, A crimson world he'd see, futures of failure as he'd experience death and antimatter oblivion half a dozen times before evading the string of blasts that would have erased the pilot.

"I want to save... someone... someone i care about!"

In his vision, he would all but U-Turn, and Felix would follow as it would seem that looking down on Port Sorrow, it was little more than slag, flames and the occasional wall. Nothing surmounting to civilization seemed to exist any more, and he could feel the knot in his stomach tighten. He couldn't see his team, or anyone for that matter. But many ships had taken off and left, there'd be no way to know if his brother was safe until the end of the battle. But he could only hope that the force, and these intermittent visions would lead him to his goal.

Soaring in desperate slalem the fighter craft would bank to and fro, wheeling and performing well beyond its standard operational limits, Felix would put the maneuvering thrusters to the test as he would pilot with his mind towards a reality not quite his own. Blood leaking from his eyes at the strain of the constant connection as his futures would inform him of a strike that was to hit the wing of his ship... a hit that he had to allow. Felix would seize for a moment, hesitate, but ultimately trust in his vision as the turbolaser blast would annihilate the starboard wing of the fighter sending it spiraling towards the earth.

The shock would snap Felix from his trance, barreling towards hard earth marred with fissures in every direction, all while nuclear rain crashed down upon them. At the destination, a woman (Darth Mori ) seemed to be pooling on a massive amount of the dark-side of the force, barely surviving, while another was hidden within a bubble, blasts crashing upon and around it protecting whatever it was on the inside. Whoever they were... they were people, and that's all Felix needed.

Golden eyes would be overcome with the Deep Crimson of his Darksight, leaking smoke from his cornea while he would charge, welling up what power he had accumulated in the force. He saw an image from space, shuttles in droves swooping to collect those still on the planets surface, several banking off to a beacon they could see in the distance. And he knew what to do.

Felix couldn't see Quinn Varanin within her bubble, but he would take refuge in its shadow, for now. Pooling whatever power he had, the flashes of lights from the turbo-lasers above, the light from the sun and the sea of flames around them would draw in, basking the ground in dark for a moment as Felix would act as a lens to reflect it all into a solitary beacon to the shuttles sent by Darth Metus . Turning to the bubble, he'd all but shout. "Need a hand? I can see you're a little busy, but I think we should probably get out of here. Something much worse is coming if we stay!"

But he had no idea.
​

 

[Halketh]

K N E L L
S A I N T E D
Dark Lord of the Sith
Aboard "THE PROPHET"
prox. Dimitri Voltura

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"Hypocrites." the Hydra growled.

The splattering crash of offense striking defense rattled the graven vessel from its coasting poise, its cacophony deafening the senses of those on board. It shook the Dark Lord, thrusting him forward to crash into the transparisteel pane, bloodied hand failing to find purchase with the crimson spill painting its palm. A grimace etched itself into his scarred features, twisting them from the poise he gathered into something far more uncouth. Somewhere behind the two men, Sol hissed and scrambled to hide within the room, disturbed by the violence enacted upon them.

Alarms blared throughout the vessel, lights flashing in warning that shields had suffered heavy depletion at the battery of autocannon. The reckoning was enacted upon the battlecruiser, and within the hornet's nest, chaos ensued as preparations were made. They weren't out of the fight yet, but by all accounts, there was only so much more punishment the world-breaker could take. They were limping at best, able to divert what power saved by the coast of their orbit into the reinforcement of their shields, but it was likely that wouldn't be enough to spare the hull from another barrage of such hot fire.​

<"My Lord we've got incoming fire, a projectile, please brace yourself for impact, as we are unable to evade."> Amarth spoke in his ear and he turned his head after acknowledgment to address the seething Hydra in the room with him.

"Brace for impact." His lips curled with his retreat from the viewing port and he ushered himself to the rear of the room to grasp onto the anchored furniture in anticipation.

On the bridge the crew frenzied, tracking the inbound pylon spat in their direction, making anxious theory and estimates of where it would strike them precisely. There was no doubt their shields could tank the brunt of the blow, but with such a dense projectile moving so swiftly, there was no way the massive cruiser would be able to twist out of the trajectory in time.

The familiar zabrak stood in silence, going into a state of shock at the realization of imminent doom. She wet her lips, clenching fists by her side, yet where orders were expected of her, she could offer only silence.

"Hold steady, we will suffer for what we do, as much we knew already." The Admiral of the vessel assumed command right back and spoke into the discordance, stepping forth to curl her hands around the rail, "And we will accept it with grace." Despite the steadiness of her tone, the woman was unsure herself, of what exactly to expect once the munition had crashed into them.

But it was not long any of those on The Prophet were made to wait for the collision.

The neuranium spear punctured the shields of the battlecruiser, dampened some by the resistance, but it sought its mark regardless. A hit. The lower hull of the axen ship was decimated, heavy metals sundered by the impact and blown apart, bleeding debris as the transports and support craft nestled in the lower hangar were ejected into the void. There would be no more extractions from the world on the Dark Lord's behalf. Klaxons screamed, the lights bled red in a strobing flare, and sealed behind the airlocks of the ship, pilots and mechanics cried their last before being sucked into the vacuum and left to die in the cold drift of space. Dozens of crew members, natives of Carlac, the High Warlord's home, were gone in an instant. The fighter craft deployed previously would have no chance to return to dock within the ship, as now, where their home lay previously, was an ugly black scar; the ship's innards exposed and left to shudder debris for all to see.

"Captain, I want a report!" the Admiral barked, her hands quivering around the metal rail she gripped, "And silence those alarms!"

"Madam, we've lost our hangar! Attempts to reach the crew on the lower levels have failed, it's safe to assume all are lost!" The answer was hollered back, barely heard over the rise and fall of the wailing alarm.

The Admiral clenched her jaw, swallowing down the information she was fed with bitterness flaring behind the maelstrom in her eyes. "What is the status of our shields?"

The klaxons silenced.

"Lower shields are shot, exposing the hull on the portside bow, hull integrity is compromised. We're bleeding pressure. The remainder of our portside shields hold at a shaky 35% power. We cannot endure another battery from that ship!" The engineer on deck answered.

"And the weapon?"

"Intact, madam, on standby."

"Our task remains." the woman turned her eyes from the array of souls on the bridge to beyond, glaring at the destruction already unfurling in the atmosphere and beyond- Hell opening its maw to unleash infernal doom upon Rhand. "We're late as it is. Bring the fighters about to guard our exposed side until we can maneuver again." To the corners of her eyes, her focus darted, "Lieutenant Amarth, confirm the Dark Lord's safety. We hold fire until he gives word." She glowered back at the engineer, "Once we have fired our shot, divert power to those shields and engage our engines. We will retreat from this fight after our purpose is fulfilled."

Back in the parlor, the Dark Lord rose from his stance behind the furniture, holding his bleeding fist away from his figure to avoid staining his white robes further. "They've destroyed the hangar," his head turned in Dimitri's direction, "after we fire, we will retreat. You are with me, now, I assume your decision has been made. Once we return to Exegol, we will meet with The Dark Voice. Until then, however," He padded forward almost mechanically and returned to his seat before the window, "we remain."

Shakily, Caelitus took a breath, steadying the quiver of his limbs and forcing himself to relax. It was to little avail. "Their vaunted acts of heroism are meaningless, and the galaxy will hear of this hypocrisy, as much is certain." He leaned forward to pluck a handkerchief from the tray that resided on the floor, now, and slowly began to wind it around his wounded hand, "I've never cared for the subjugation of peoples, an act my own people endured, more or less until The Hungerer consumed our world. I condemn it, but even more than that, do I condemn the careless slaughter of innocent peoples."

The doors swung open and into their company, the sweating zabrak woman stumbled, onyxian hair escaping the tight bind of the bun holding it behind her horned head. Wide, yellow eyes fixed on both of the men and she released a sigh of great relief. "Dark Lord, the han-"

"I know," he interrupted lifelessly, "I will address it later."

Amarth straightened up, smoothing her hands over the creases of her uniform to attempt putting herself back together, trying to escape the grip of panic she had succumbed to previously, "The superlaser awa-"

A finger pressed to the device tucked into his ear as he interrupted her once more, casting his voice through the comlink: <"Fire.">

The hellish light gathering on the forward bow of The Prophet intensified, the crucible of the fitted weapon churning at an incomprehensible speed. Foci flashed in blinding flare, each fixture spewing forth the coalesced energy drawn in by the miniature reactors attuned specifically for the purpose. Humming light erupted at its peak, ejecting the plasmic malice from each connector into the greater chamber, funneling upon a single point of contact. From this, tracer beam cast the hellish crimson into the void, extending the will of the Dark Lord from the metaphysical to the tangible, his whim directing the hatred of The Maw at its fullest to a singular point: Port Sorrow.

Those craft on the same side of the planet as The Prophet would be bathed in the purging light, its glow doubtlessly burning into the memory of foe and friend alike who bore witness to it. The ship was propelled backward in slow toil by the sheer force of the superlaser, this was left unimpeded by the propulsion of the engines, who remained mostly dormant still, as hair point precision was required.

The smoke-strangled skies over Rhand illuminated slowly with impending doom, the small beam descending upon the world. It was no superweapon, no Death Star, no Mercy, but its power could shatter mountains, crack the crust apart, and render the surface moot in its penetrative conquest to the mantle of the world.

Silence washed over the bridge of The Prophet, the crew left to witness in shielded awe.

The skies over Rhand charged with a hellish drone, the unquestionable song of The Brotherhood baring down upon them.

"It was never about the slaves, nor their fleet, nor their conquest to claim this planet from our grasp," Caelitus spoke, "it was always about this. Crushing the hope and light out of those who saunter around thinking themselves above the toil of the common soldier. About humbling those who need humbling, and showing them they are no better than the rest of us; plague dogs who torment one another in an endless, lustful cycle for power in a galaxy we are all so insignificant to."

The beam collided with the ground outside of Port Sorrow and remained fixed, pouring every ounce of radiant power gathered into the already breaking earth. Fissures erupted outwardly, the ground melting to slag, debris, and rock upheaved and thrown far from their beds. Tectonic breaths were intensified, the motions of the natural landscape interrupted and spurred to action by the hand of The Maw. The crust rippled, uprooting and rocking, unable to hold together with the heat and inertia of the weapon alone. Wave after wave of energy poured into the point of impact, quaking the entire land in the unimpeded surge toward the city. Reaching the very outskirts, buildings crumbled on splintering foundations, tumbling into the cracks sundered by The Prophet's mission and casting clouds of dust and cinder high into the bleeding sky.

The shockwaves continued, penetrating deeper and deeper into the city with every pulse of the bedded laser.

"The Final Dawn has risen," The Mercurial Saint whispered from his seat, "behold the first death knell."
​

Spoiler: Ship Actions

-Shields on the portside bow have been depleted by attack from Kiff Brayde , the others on the portside hold at 35%.
- The fighter squadrons have pulled back to guard and shield the patch of exposed hull.
-The ship has sustained hull damage, and the hangar has been ripped open.
-The superlaser has fired on the outskirts of Port Sorrow- upheaving the earth gradually with fissure-generating shockwaves divulging deeper into the city with each pulse.

Witness me!
Dakrul , Darth Mori , Darth Solipsis , The Mongrel , Tegan Starfall , Maestus , Darth Carnifex , Ignatius Rausgeber Quinn Varanin , Zlova Rue , Ingrid L'lerim , Diocletian Kahmen’’a , Kyyrk , Jhira Mereel , Priesse Verena , Lunara Azure , Rann Thress , Caltin Vanagor , Felix Aquila , Dreidi Xeraic , Srina Talon , Laertia Io , Darth Empyrean , Prennis Keeoli , Corin Autem , Ruus Kote , Damsy Callat , Kristyl Arenais , Taiia Locke , Ket Cros , Gerwald Lechner , Sylvia Virtos

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[Blade Ice]

Post: 4
Objective: Empty
Location: Leavign Rhand
Equipment: Orange Lightsaber (Fire) | Blue Lightsaber (ICE) | x8 throwing daggers | Poison Dagger | x6 thermal detonators | x8 Smoke Grenades | Brown MidNight Duster with Hood
Allies: Maestus | BoTM
Enemies: Caltin Vanagor
Special Tags: Caltin Vanagor

​

---

Blade’s transport returned to his, the Sith lord walk aboard untouched his weapons, armor in pristine condition. Behing him was several of the Slaves from the surface. “You can sleep in the Cargo Until we reach Exegol. He made his way to the bridge of his ship that had been cloaked on the other side of the planet for most of excursion. As he came to the bridge, he began flipping some switches preparing the ship for a hyperspace jump. His eyes stared out over the world he could just make out the some of the explosions Happening.


He had long left the city leaving his doppelgangers behind to slow and impede some of the forces. He wasn’t even sure who they had engaged not that it matter Blade’s Mission had been accomplished. Twenty-four maw slaves where in his cargo bay. One’s his Daughter Tegan Had specifically left for him to take. For what purpose he did not know. What he did know now is that the Maw’s plan hadn’t gone exactly as intended.


Then he felt it in that moment that sting, as he felt his eldest daughter cry out in pain as she ripped herself of her mortal frame. It pulled at his heart, that most people thought sith did not have hearts or care. Darth Lucid continued to stare out the view port even as the timer for the hyperjump neared ready. Tears began to form in his eyes as he thought of the time he had saved his Daughter from Slaver, she had been sold into slaver by Blade’s Brother Sethrom just moments after she born. It took Blade a very long time to find her and free her she was already an adult by then. Her mind had destroyed by all the abuse she endured both physical and mental.


He remembered freeing her and her asking who he was. It took many years for her to accept that he was her father, and even longer for to trust him. In fact, he was never truly sure she ever did trust him. A lump began to form in his throat as he choked it back. His raspy voice let out a little whisper. He knew she had come back many times before but this one this one felt different.


“Wherever you go little one, know I will always find you and bring you home.” Tears began to roll down the rebel siths face. He then solemnly reached up and engaged the hyperdrive, jumping away from Rhand. He then set all the auto controls and went to his small quarters area. As the slaves in the Cargo bay restlessly moved about half scared not sure what to think of the man that had stolen them away from Rhand.

 

[Lunara Azure]

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Wearing: Tempest Mantle | Tempestus​

Tagging: Gerwald Lechner | The Mongrel | Spencer Varanin | OPEN​

​

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There was a lull, a sense of calm around the blonde that seemed to create an eye in the centre of the storm as one by one, two by two, hesitantly at first before the crowd began to grow and expand around her. The spaceport had been turned into a battlezone, their homes reduced to rubble around them, what possessions they owned, the few they’d been able to scrape together lost in the wave of war that had washed over them. It was hardly fair, it most certainly wasn’t right but, at least they were alive.

The scent of death hung heavily on the air, the Maw’s cruel behaviour discarding those that they’d gathered in the port as easily as one might throw away a pair of gloves. It beggared belief, the energies swirling in the air carried the scent of dark side magic across the port, the lingering feeling of death on a scale that Lunara had only experienced once before when the flames of war had touched her homeworld. No matter where in the galaxy they appeared in the galaxy the agents of the darkness seemed to have no compunction about sacrificing those around them, to leave a trail of death and misery in their wake.

Death was inevitable, the ultimate destination of all life, a journey the Maw seemed determined to hasten. Countless lives had been sacrificed to their hubris, their desires, but not these, these few that Lunara would keep out of their grasp, would protect. She had failed those close to her when they had needed her, hadn’t been able to save them from the claws that had reached out of the dark to claim them.

She wouldn’t fail now.

Only the galaxy seemed to be determined to press her, to force her to abandon her goal, to set itself against her will. In this, today, the woman wouldn’t be found wanting. She could feel the energy cutting through the atmosphere, boiling clouds and devastating the ground where that deadly rain fell. It was a storm of death, a web of energy that left behind nothing but death and devastation as it travelled across the planet. She could sense the wave moving like a curtain falling across the planet, leaving only a void behind them, a barren emptiness in the force filled with whispers of the dead, with their regrets and terror.

It was the claws of death reaching out to grasp at those she’d set herself to protect, to tear these precious souls out of her hands.

NO MORE

The blonde closed her eyes, reaching out to the force that surrounded her, that field of energy roiling with death and the darkside. The energy that connected all things, that normally flowed around all things like an ocean.

On a normal day. Today was not normal.

Crystal blue eyes snapped open, those orbs blazing with icy fire as she cast her mind out, setting her will against the force around her, against its natural flow. Life created the force, created the natural flow that sustained life...but that wasn’t what she wanted.

That was not what she demanded.

Slowly, inch by inch the force would bend to her will, to the requirements she demanded on it. The encroaching wave of energy promised the end, a final curtain fall she wasn’t ready for, wasn’t willing to leave the innocents around her to suffer through. Overhead Confederacy transports blazed a trail through the sky, ferrying those forces they could out of the battlezone and Lunara wanted to be there, she demanded it. Enforcing her will on the force, rewriting reality to satisfy her.

It was like a ghostly touch passed over them, a feeling of something otherworldly passing over your skin in a wave that spread out from the woman as far as Gerwald and his opponent.

One moment they stood in the ruins of a port, in the rubble of houses and businesses and the next the startled squeal of the pilot as a crowd of bedraggled slaves appeared in the back of his ship, the blonde dropping to a knee, sucking in a deep breath as she felt the energy slipping from her grasp, the cold metal of the floor against her knees as she sucked in a breath.

“So, hi, we're hitching a ride and I’m gonna need you to keep going in well...that direction.”

A pale hand gestured at space as worried eyes glanced at the viewport, she’d been able to save the slaves gathered around her but that meant those further away from her hadn’t been so lucky, she hadn’t been able to twist space enough to pull Gerwald and his opponent into the ship with them. She could hear the thump of feet on the roof of the ship.

Her earlier words to the man came back to haunt her...don’t die.

She wanted to reach out, to funnel what energy she could gather into the man, but the events on the planet were rapidly spinning away from her, were far worse than she’d expected. The growl of static over the pilot’s comms and the sight of vast fleets clashing overhead was enough to bring the stark reality of the situation home, she’d managed to save this handful of innocents but beneath her feet, another planet burned.

Another planet she’d failed, more ghosts to haunt her footsteps.

The conflict that waged through space was a maelstrom of energy, of death and emotion that left the normally calm surface of the force roiling but beneath the surface, she could see something forming, some semblance of order, a shaping of the force that seemed to reach out, from ship to ship, binding them into a net.

For a moment Lunara was torn, torn between that choice that had haunted her before, the ability to support someone she cared about, to save them from possible death set against the fate of thousands, of a fleet. She didn’t have enough energy, enough focus left to do both, to reach out and reinforce the burgeoning structure, or she could funnel it to Gerwaldin his battle on the roof.

She knew, she knew that the Lord Commander was a more than capable combatant, that he’d earned his position through years of work and proficiency...but he was right there. Another man she cared about, fighting for his life mere inches from her, so close she could almost reach out to touch him. All she needed to do was close her eyes, focus and she could provide him with energy, could touch the force to impede his opponent and guarantee him the victory, guarantee his safety. It was the chance she’d hoped for all those years ago. She hadn’t been able to be there to protect her husband when he’d faced his enemies along...it was history repeating itself and this time she could make sure it would be different.

This time she could save him.

But.

But...it wasn’t what he’d want. The Lord Commander put his duty to his people above all else, she might tease and needle the man, but there were nights when she’d found him working long after everyone else had left for the night. That she’d seen him spend hours helping a squire learn a simple lightsaber move, something any knight, and trainer could have done. That was the man who fought on the roof right now.

And he’d want her to protect his people.

Warm tears ran in tracks down the elfin woman’s pale cheeks, dripping unheeded onto the floor as her voice cracked, barely able to muster more than a whisper for the man standing above them.

“Please don’t die.”

Then she was gone, wrenching her mind free of her body as she reached up towards space, towards that net that was growing between eh ships as she drew on her emotions, all the anger and heartbreak that had driven her through the course of the day, feeding it into the force as she joined the meld, throwing her will behind it to help it grow, to connect the bright minds of the Confederates. This was something she could do, a way she could help.

For years she’d wondered what she could do if she’d been on Zernia when the shadows visited. What she would have done.

And now she knew.

Nothing would have changed, she’d have let him die on the street.

Softly, unheeded by the slaves wondering what was happening now, what the future would hold for them, by the minds she touched in as the network expanded across the fleet and soldiers on the ground that still fought for survival, a heart broke and a dream shattered.

Now she knew.

__________________________________________________________

BATTLE MEDITATION ACTIVATED

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[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Mori //: Felix Aquila //:
//: Port Sorrow //:
//: Thanatos //:

Quinn blinked, surprised at the sudden movement of her former lover. Vesta had drawn closer, but the warmth that she had given in their past was gone.

Despite feeling so far from how they were, Quinn felt a weight lift from her chest when Vesta drew close and reached out with her hand. Has she gotten through? Was their story still waiting to be written? Hopeful, Quinn found her hand reaching out, but she stopped upon hearing Vesta’s words. “I was alone.” The princess shook her head, “No, Vesta” She reached out once more, wanting to draw Vesta closer - embrace her like before. Though, this time feeling the shell of the bubble that separated them.

“Vesta?” She questioned, only to finally see past the woman. The heavy rain of death poured around them, surrounding them, and Vesta only protected Quinn. “Vesta?” Quinn questioned again, her voice cracking, watching as the beams of light crash into the buildings around them, falling and tearing into Vesta. Why was all of this happening? Why didn’t Vesta protect herself as well - they were so close. “Vesta! VESTA!” Quinn screamed against the protective bubble; new tears fell from her eyes, staining her cheeks once more. Her hands balled into tight fists as she banged them against the bubble. “Vesta, WHY?” Quinn kicked and screamed against the shell that kept her barricaded away from the Sith Lord.

Fingers pressed, clawing now till she could feel her nails breaking, bleeding. There was no getting through the bubble, no matter how much effort she put into it. The only other thing she could think of was the lightsaber. Drawing the golden blade, it hummed gently. One strike, two strikes, it clashed against the protective sphere.

Nothing. The saber found itself on the floor as Quinn screamed again. “Vesta, Please! Vesta, I still love you - VESTA STOP IT” Vesta had been everything to her once, and seeing the woman again - Quinn remembered all of it. How much she was drawn to the woman, the times they had shared, and the future they had dreamed of. All of it was gone as she watched her fall ever deeper into the dark side. Vesta was no longer there in front of her - the only thing left was unrecognizable.

Screams of pure agony mirrored Mori’s; once more, she couldn’t be there; she wasn’t good enough to be at Vesta’s side. Falling to her knees, she let her pain flow into the Force; Quinn didn’t care - she wanted everyone to feel the agony of her loss - maybe then Vesta would know how much she really mattered.

She could feel familiars, she remembered her godmother being planetside with them. Maybe Srina Talon knew what to do; perhaps she could help her - she had never let Quinn down before. Crawling back to the edge of the sphere, Quinn spoke with a hopeful though strained voice, “V-Vesta, my -- I can help you...just--just let me please.” Her body pressed against the sphere, still trying to claw through it to no avail. She closed her eyes, not wanting to watch as Vesta perished in front of her. Through her heartbreak, she called out to Srina, help me, please - please help me she’s going to die… Quinn tried to keep the surge of emotions from touching her godmother, but the purest agony felt through their connection, and Quinn sobbed heavily. This is all my fault. She continued to reach out to her godmother, hoping that she would come to make everything better.

Instead of the Exarch’s voice, another familiar one broke through Quinn’s sorrow. Looking towards the man who used her protection sphere as a rock to hide behind, she recognized him. The princess stumbled forward, hitting the sphere near Felix's, “What are you doing here?! Get out of here!” A hand wiped her tears; he would make this more complicated - if Vesta saw him, she didn’t know what would happen, but it would undo any ground she had possibly gained.

“Leave me alone!”​

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron, the little shadow-killer
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Slave of the Maw​

Objective: BYOO, try to survive (Maw side)
Location: Rescue ship
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tag: N/A

[ Cry ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ ​

I understood less and less about what it was, but by remembering that I got drugs, I was more and more sure that I was hallucinating or dreaming. I’ve never been under hallucinogenic effects, so I didn’t know if I would be able to think clearly. In a dream, I know yes. I still had no answer as to why they were doing this to me or whether what I saw was reality or not.

I tried to wake up, it usually works when a person realizes they are sleeping. Did not work! I looked around desperately as Mercy came closer. The feelings emanating from her were so awful that I didn’t want her to be around. However, she did not care about me. She watched Freedom and headed in her direction. Suddenly it felt like something was holding my head very tightly, in a vise, I felt very strong pressure inside my head.

And the two women began to fight. Due to the severe pain, I couldn’t see the fight, squeezing my head, falling to my knees. Everything went dark again, though mostly because I closed my eyes. The world turned me around, I had severe nausea. It was as if my mind was too small and we couldn’t fit in it. It was no longer just blood leaking from my nose, but also from my ears and eyes.

"Maniac, what happens to me!?" I shouted terrified.

But the AI did not respond. Suddenly I saw a strong light even through the closed eyelids, to which I opened my eyes. Freedom was nowhere only Mercy. Pain and pressure were also relieved. I felt like we were less in my head. I still couldn’t move, and Mercy came closer. She grabbed my chin tightly and forced me to look into her eyes. Gold, corrupt eyes, but it was me. I start to gasp for air again. Claws appeared at the end of her fingers and she was about to strike me.

"No, this is my mind! Leave me alone, get out of here!" I screamed at her.

She was stunned and her movement stopped and then a light came from her. When my vision cleared, I was in a field again, in the grass, among the flowers. All the pain was gone, I couldn’t feel anything else in my head. I was alone, completely alone. I leaned down on the ground in relief and began to sob while lying on the grass hugging my legs tightly.

 

[Rebirth]

Rhand System
​

The Sorcerers of Rhand were nihilists in the grimmest sense of the word, for that was what their sinister Way of the Dark taught them. Gifted with their signature power of Darksight, they could foresee destruction, calamity, and collapse. Through lidded eyes they could experience visions of all such events, from individual murders and crimes of passion to galaxy-spanning wars... though sifting through these myriad visions was complex, and they tended to focus only on those directly relevant to them. Looming over every such event was the ultimate moment of entropy: the heat death of the universe, when the very last star went out.

If you could vividly behold the moment that every galaxy died, perhaps you would understand them.

With that final ending in mind, the Sorcerers feared nothing, for everything was meaningless within the inevitable spiral down to universal decay. Their combat powers came from manipulating that entropy, turning flesh to dust and metal to rust in a burst of their Darkshear ability. But their oracular abilities, foretelling the future through destruction, were far more useful to the Brotherhood than even that mighty power. It was this Darksight that had forewarned the Maw of the Confederacy's coming, allowing them to lay a trap for their foes. More than a trap, it was a message: everything dies in the end. It was a grim warning, one befitting the Sorcerers.

Entire worlds, entire slave populations, did not matter in a crusade to burn the whole galaxy.

The process of preparing that ambush had been a long and difficult one. As soon as the warning came from the Sorcerers, the great warfleets of the Brotherhood and their Final Dawn allies had been mobilized. Ships were brought in from Exegol, from Osseriton, from O'reen. It had taken hours to fully crew and arm them. It had taken days to move them all into position just outside the Rhand system, lurking in deep space just far enough away that they would be out of sensor range, ready to spring the trap at the appropriate moment. It had been a titanic logistic undertaking, consuming every moment until the CIS arrived.

But when the trap was sprung, when they made their short hyperspace jumps from deep space to the Rhand system to launch the attack, the CIS reacted differently than expected. In the space of minutes, while Gehinnom was still falling, the Confederacy somehow marshaled fleets halfway across the galaxy. Perhaps they were fully crewed, fueled, and armed at all times, always ready to go on the attack, with no shore leave for their personnel. Then they made the hyperspace jump from Vulpter, in the Deep Core, to the far edge of the Unknown Regions in minutes. It was a journey that took ships with standard hyperdrives roughly 144 hours.

The Brotherhood had no explanation for this incredible logistical triumph, beyond that the CIS was powerful. There was a reason that they had risen to rule fully a third of known space, and they were now throwing their near-limitless resources into the war against the Maw, which controlled only a tiny fraction of that vast number of worlds. How could they possibly fight back? The Sorcerers of Rhand might declare it all meaningless. Brotherhood and CIS were both transitory, and would eventually fall to the enemy that consumed all things: entropy. It was why they did not care about the fate of the world from which they took their name.

But the Brotherhood did not ascribe to the exact same philosophy as the Sorcerers. They believed in the power of entropy, certainly, as represented by the Avatar of Death... but they did not believe that struggle was pointless. To them, something would always come after. Even the heat death of the universe, that ultimate ending, was not an end in their eyes. Their faith in the Avatar of Rebirth sustained them. Out of destruction, they believed, something would always grow. Ashes were the ultimate fertilizer, after all. And so in their own eyes they were not mere destroyers but agents of change, bringers of galactic renewal.

When faced with fleet after fleet, Super Star Destroyer after Super Star Destroyer, Force-wielding champion after champion, more than they could ever muster by far, they held tight to that identity. Could they win against the waking titan that was the CIS? Perhaps not. Perhaps they had been doomed the moment that the southernmost great power had taken notice of them. But there was, they believed, nobility in their struggle. What honor or glory was there in facing easy conquests? In fighting inferior foes? If they were to struggle, to bleed, and to die, let them do it against the largest and most dangerous foes, the powerful old orders.

And so the Brotherhood did not lose heart in the midst of the onslaught, no matter how greatly it intensified. They fought to prove that even a power tiny in comparison to their mighty foes could catch them by surprise. They fought to deny the enemy their objectives, even if they could not defeat them outright. They fought to prove that they were fearless, and that those sworn to turn the galaxy to ash were not afraid to suffer for their cause. For they had suffered losses, terrible losses, in this battle. The fall of Gehinnom and the deaths of so many slaves would wrack their supply lines for months, perhaps years, before they stabilized.

But so long as the Brotherhood had warriors and ships left to fight with, it would weather any difficulty and endure any obstacle. The marauder tribes were utterly devoted, even unto death, and if every last one of the combatants here went down in flames it would be a bright pyre of defiance for all the galaxy to see. Witness us, was the message of Rhand. See our faith. See our struggle to erase the old orders, and to build something new. Believing that death was only the gateway to rebirth in a future galaxy, one the Avatars had already cleansed and made new, they fought with all their hearts to fulfill words spoken centuries earlier.

Forget the past. Kill it if you have to. And they would.

​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN...​

Location: Optional

Spoiler: Lightsabers

"ELOAH" (Primary - Long Handle)

"ELOHAI" (Secondary - Long Handle)

Spoiler: GEAR

Comm-link, Rebreather, Custom Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added)Advanced Jedi Utility Belt

Spoiler: STARSHIP/COMPANIONS

Starship: Starlight Sentinel, (Dilorian and Bike both in cargo bay)
Companion: Astromech R01R - "Roller", Pilot droid Mu51c - "Music"

Tag:???



The small installation known as “Port Sorrow” lies in a pit of flame and twisted metal, what has left of it anyway. The Brotherhood of the Maw obliterated any semblance, and trace, any smell of humanity, and did so all in order to keep it, and potentially the planet Rhand itself out of the hands of anyone but them. The destruction atomized any signs of life and made for what might be considered to be a complete loss.

The “Starlight Sentinel” was screaming out of the atmosphere she was singed, and the scoring on her port and aft sections showed that she did not make it out unscathed. The vessel was also overloaded with citizens of the ill-fated Port who wanted nothing to do with this battle, let alone war, and slaves who were begging for their freedom one way or another. Caltin Vanagor was at the controls of the ship as the coordinates were entered into the NAV computer by his pilot droid “Mu51-C” and they were off into hyperspace.

One reading this might wonder “Where was he all of this time?” A prudent question that can only be answered if we look to the past, not that long ago, and follow his actions.

The Force had brought him to Rhand to assist in the liberation of the people of Rhand from the Brotherhood of the Maw. The Confederacy of Independent Systems was leading the charge here and thus he was not here in anything more than a support role which suited the big guy just fine. Caltin was not going to overstep his bounds here, but if it meant a fight then that was okay too. That was, or so it appeared at first, that the Force was leading him to as it looked like there were opposing forces coming his way and that of another. One of them was one he could remember from long ago, but could not place the face. The other was not showing.

Rather than wait around, Caltin went to work. If this opponent wished to engage him, the big guy would not be hard to find as the Force was warning him of danger. Walking the town, Caltin had run into several “Mawites”(?), none really of any importance and no need for names. The big guy had taken the majority of them down when one spoke of it “not mattering anyway” and “the Maw will still reap victory from above.” It was then that the massive Jedi Master’s priorities had changed and now they were evacuation. He didn’t know what the DarkSider meant exactly, but he didn’t need to.

He had heard a rant like this before...

Tapping the comm-link on his vambrace as the DarkSider took off, the big guy keyed his ship for pick-up and his bike for retrieval. Then he went to work. Knocking on doors, kicking slaver operations open, everything he could do, anyone that wanted to leave but did not have means of their own could ride with him and it looked like a lot of them did. Soon the ship that had landed in the outskirts of the port had been almost overrun with sentients, even a DarkSider who looked furious at what he had seen. The big guy was in absolutely no mood for it.

If you want to ride, get in. If you do not, stay. These people are leaving and if you have an issue. We can go at it right now.

He said nothing else but pointed upwards. The station overhead in orbit. The DarkSider said nothing as he threw his lightsaber away a great distance and actually helped load people into the ship and they all were making as much room as they could. The big guy made his way into the cockpit, immediately as “R011” was making accommodations, or trying to.

“SITUATIONAL UPDATE: Sir, it appears that there is a tremendous energy build-up directly overhead.”

His suspicions were confirmed.

Thanks Roller. We’re out of here.

Getting into the pilot seat quickly, the big guy made his way to set up the systems to his liking as “Music” was setting up the secondary systems and the nav computer.

We’re out of here.

With a hiss and a rumble, the ship set off and not a moment too soon.

“PANIC: Sir! The station above is firing upon us!”

Trying not to let that happen, Roller.

Caltin was an accomplished pilot even without the Force, but the waves of destructive energy slamming into the ground had to bring a reaction somehow. Shockwaves rumbled in the ground and soon the explosive reaction followed the ship, almost chasing ” The Starlight Sentinel”. They didn’t get out in time and no fancy flying of one man could get them out. Then DarkSider got into the copilot’s seat. No words needed to be said, they simply worked to get out of the immediate danger.

When the ship finally hit hyperspace, Caltin looked to his impromptu pilot who was getting up.

I want to thank you, and do not even know your name? Darth?

The individual just shook his head.

“ No, not anymore. My name is ‘YekciM’.***”

Spoiler: ***

Hope this last part didn't step on anyone's toes.

... YET THE DAWN ALWAYS COMES.

 

[Vesta]

DARK MATTER​

Location: Port Sorrow
Objective: Kill the Past
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw | Dakrul , Halketh , Darth Solipsis , The Mongrel , Tegan Starfall , Maestus , Darth Carnifex , Ignatius Rausgeber
Enemies: Confederacy of Independent Systems | Quinn Varanin , Zlova Rue , Ingrid L'lerim , Diocletian Kahmen’’a , Kyyrk , Jhira Mereel , Priesse Verena , Lunara Azure , Rann Thress , Caltin Vanagor , Felix Aquila , Dreidi Xeraic , Srina Talon , Laertia Io , Darth Empyrean , Prennis Keeoli , Corin Autem , Ruus Kote , Damsy Callat , Kristyl Arenais , Taiia Locke , Ket Cros , Gerwald Lechner , Darth Metus

Mangled, broken, body burning - the pain was unquestionable, agony unfathomable, but it was not without purpose. Once the center of her world, Quinn remained a monument of everything she hated and was hated by. To claim a feeling that was meant to be positive and then twist a knife in her heart almost simultaneously, to move on from her to the next in simple resignation, as if it was to be expected that she'd just leave what meant most to her on a whim; she had never put stock in the opinions of others, the hypocrites and the prejudiced, but there had been an exception for the one person witnessing her mutilation - an exception that had caused her to question everything she had learned, everything she knew.

To be thought so little of by the one she held so high, to be tossed aside so easily.

Energy coalesced around her brutalized shape, her body stitching itself together through sheer force of will, and at the center of it all it was as if a tear had been ripped in the force itself - frayed like vocal cords after such a long scream - and all collapsed in towards it, drained into it, like a singularity. Smoke rolled from her body, her posture bent, twisted, and her mouth agape while the hiss of her last breath still slipped from between her lips. There were no words formed in her thoughts, no words that reached her lips, only the emotive response to what she was trying to reject - a past that refused to die for as long as it still lived on in someone else's memory.

Her eye opened, head tilting towards the girl that kept that shred of her still breathing, and the musculature of her face, along with the bits and pieces of flesh that stitched themselves over it, stretched into a deep frown.

"She is dead. You killed her."

To become the beast she'd been made out to be, to embrace everything she hated to be seen as, to accept that deepest insult that cut her to the soul was the conclusion she had reached - in order to destroy whatever idea it was that Quinn Varanin had of her in her mind. "I am all that remains." She said, her voice spoken like the wind that roared between them only moments before - the raw fury of something completely unnatural. To remain as Vesta, to let the woman that wanted to do anything she could to prove that she was still worth something, that she still cared - that she still had a purpose - had become too much; she'd tried to simply ignore it, to change her name, adopt the title, abandon her past through disassociation, but that past still returned, nightly, and now here it stood with its judgmental gaze in horror of what it had morphed her into.

"The future is the consequence of the past, hatred is the cost of love, and pain is the price I paid to forget."

A dull red glow remained where the eye that was still missing had been, like embers from a dying flame. It was, as with everything she'd done, symbolic - symbolic of a fear she'd seen manifested inside Quinn before, when she'd drawn it out of her, when she had been her master. "I do not need your help, neither does he." The bubble's walls thinned - the Sith lord stepped towards it, darkness spreading with each footfall like sand beneath the waves or ash scattered by rain. Just then, before she'd so much as spoken, there had been a certain degree of hesitance, that maybe something might've changed - but she felt that feeling, that fear, the belief that the Vesta Quinn thought she'd been seeing, dead or not, was incapable of the humanity she retained.

That she was a monster.

A smile etched itself into her twisted face.

 

[Bendak Crail]

Location: Outside of Bone Temple, trekking to nearest starship
Objective: SURVIVE
Allies: Jaedec Ren Adaz
Enemies: CIS


Bendak kept moving, there was no turning back. He couldn't turn back. To turn back meant certain death for the merry band of Ren. What ate at him the most was that Kyrel, the Master of Ren had been safely aboard a shuttle. Now seems far away from any of the mess that was happening. As soon as he was but not a mile from the temple when he heard the explosions coming. A feeling of dread kept building as he often wondered how it all went to hell so quickly. If Bendak wasn't pissed now, he had a bad feeling that he was soon gonna be absolutely livid.

He looked to the skies, and already saw what seemed to make matters just as bad. Pieces of debris of massive size were starting to enter the atmosphere. A bad feeling seemed to only grow worse, as Bendak was surrounded by nothing but plains. There was not much of cover, if any at all. He kept trying to move as far as he could. His eyes still gazing to the sky from time to time, watching the fireworks come down as if the wrath of the Avatars would seem to happen on this day.

His feet, his legs felt like metal. As if the ground was trying to get him. His anxiety was increasing as if being surrounded by the enemy wasn't bad enough. He now found himself running for his life. Away from certain doom, but where could it all go. How could you run from this. Looking to the sky, what he saw next was something that was truly terrifying. A beam of light shooting through the sky, heading towards the ground on the horizon. His eyes widened. "Oh no... Aw chit.... Aw crap! Uh guys you better haul ass!" He said his tone filled with dread as he tried to pick up the pace. Knowing that death was on it's way.

 

[Vemric Keldra]

ALLIES: CIS and Co. (it madness ok?) | Oleander Webb
ENEMIES: BOTM and Co.
ENGAGING: Marlon Sularen
FLEET:

Spoiler: Attack Line

Flagship: CNS Requiem (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

201st Heavy Attack Line:

1x Victator-class Battlecruiser
= CNS Royal Furor (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

1x Thoros I-class Artillery Battlecruiser
= CNS Eternity (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
2x Liberator I-class Star Destroyer
= CNS Bulwark (Shields 50%/Hull 85%)
= CNS Siren (Shields 50%/Hull 85%)

1x Grievous-class Star Destroyer
= CNS Grande Deceptor (Shields 60%/Hull 70%)

3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser
= CNS Liberty (Shields 60%/Hull 70%)
= CNS Revenant (Shields 60%/Hull 70%)
= CNS Genesis (Shields 60%/Hull 70%)

5x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate
= CNS Guardian (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Pilgrim (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Triumph (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Observer (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Herald (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Terrus-class Flak Corvette
= CNS Galaxy’s Harbinger (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Euphoria (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Vision (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Marauder (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

6x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette
= CNS Prophet (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Judgement (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Huntress (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Avenger (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Prisoner (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Torment (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

Spoiler: Carrier Line

223rd Carrier Line:

x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
= CNS Oblivion (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser
= CNS Invader (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Avalanche (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Basilisk (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate
= CNS Pathfinder (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Glory (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Promise (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Diplomat (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

4x Terrus-class Flak Corvette
= CNS Bastion (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Trinity (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Signature (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Chimaera (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

5x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette
= CNS Warlord (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Defiance (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Locket (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Inferno (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
= CNS Hummingbird (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

O~~>SENTENCED TO DEATH<~~O​

The drums of war.

They thrummed deeply, echoing ominously through time. They beat in the hearts of all coming to blows on this day. They hummed through bone and marrow. Cowardice was non existent as long as they beat.

Drums sounded and Hounds bayed.

From the depths of the Abyss, Death's orchestra thrummed.

"I'm not the one looking death in the eyes," he said. Any other time he would've taken a small joy in the duplicity of that sentence. "If you're intent on leading to the bitter end, allow me to extend a small aid to that end."

Once more, the Knight Obsidian held out his hand for Vemric. The Sephi was glad that the man had decided to heed his advice to get off the ship before she gets shot full of holes.

So he shook hands with Death.

Even after the Knight had left the bridge, the effects of the Abyss could be felt - its cool, soothing caress. Vemric did not know how he knew, but he knew that no matter the turnout of this battle today, the effects he was feeling would be a blessing either way.

Drums from the deep.

Klaxons sounding.

"Enemy vessels nearly in range, Sir." Miles' voice came as if from afar.
Just then, a blinding flash lit up the great viewport.
"Sir! High Marshal Oldo and his lines are caught beneath that thing!" Pol cried.
Vemric went still as a stone, back rigid.
"Damage?" he asked softly.

Five drumbeats on a heart.

"Entire 579th lost and still counting, Sir." came the almost breathless reply.
Vemric closed his eyes momentarily as the weight of the world settled on him.
"The Al'raja?"
"Still transmitting, Sir." Pol replied, almost relieved.

"Minister, Lord Marshal. We have sustained immeasurably severe casualties --

Oldo's voice came through momentarily before being abruptly cut off.
"Report! Where is my communications?" Vemric asked.
"We're being jammed, Sir. We can't reach him."
"Who can we raise on the Tac Command? Is it holding?" Vemric asked.
"It's holding for now. I need a second to see who we can raise on it. Not all ships are equipped." Pol said, fingers flying over the panel.
"Enemy fleet bearing down hard!" Miles interjected.

The Hounds of War howled.

Vemric's jaw clenched. Until he could raise his fleet, he only had the Requiem. She could hold her own for a while, at least.
"Open fire with all M5's and M10's. Focus fire on the Agitator and rotate rounds." Vemric ordered. "Can we at least signal the Furor and Eternity?"
"I can attempt to with encrypted signs, yes, Sir." Pol said.
"See what you can get through - the Furor is to open fire with the M5's and M10's only, on any of the Supremacies within her range. The Eternity is to open fire with the Autocannons - focus fire on the Agitator from below. The Furor can deploy three squadrons of Vultures. Let them harass some of the front runners." the Sephi said.
"Attempting Dadita now." Pol replied as he started tapping away through the static as the droid next to him continued to find ships that could be hailed on the Requiem's advanced comms network.

Flashes of light lit up the viewport once more.

"Heavy line is taking fire from enemy long range!" Miles reported.
Vemric pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes, his tall frame stiff as a rod.
"CNS Revenant attempting communications." the droid's monotone broke through.
Static crackled for a heartbeat.
"....heavy fire! May we reply in kind, Grand Marshal?" Captain Aives' feminine voice crackled through.
"Affirmative! Fire at will, all three of you. And activate M3's. Confuse them." Vemric immediately replied.
"Copied, Sir. Aives out." she crackled shortly before logging off once more.

The drums of war were growing louder.

Countless lives lost in a desperate attempt at liberation.

Staring out the viewport as the Requiem shuddered as all Mass Drivers on the ship rotated fire on the enemy flagship, Vemric found himself back over Kamino - a mere Lieutenant at the time. How many lives were lost that day? The drums were sounding as loud as they were now. He could not recall the battle anymore. All he remembered was how his heart was irrevocably shattered that day. How he could not prevent the death of the one he loved.

And here he was once more, staring at the Abyss.

How many more will enter into it today?

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• MXC-T18 Tyr Tactical Command Network holding up against the frequency jamming and manages to communicate with other vessels equipped with the same network
• Lieutenant Pol sending commands via Dadita to the CNS Royal Furor and CNS Eternity who will then open fire with M5 Mass Driver Cannons & M10 Heavy Ion Cannons on any selected Supremacy-1s and firing Orbital Autocannons on the Predator respectably from below the Requiem.
• CNS Requiem open fired with all M5 Mass Driver Cannons as well as M10 Heavy Ion Cannons on the Predator
• CNS Royal Furor deploying 3 squadrons of Vulture droid fighters (M3 ordnance jammers equipped)
• All 3 Argente-Class Cruisers open fired with all ordnance on any selected ships in range of Mass Drivers and activated M3 Ordnance Jammers.
• Damages taken from heavy fire noted in spoilers up top

 

[Felix Aquila]

S U R V I V E​

Allies: Quinn Varanin
Obstacles: Darth Mori
Enemies: Himself
Equipment:

• - Light-saber
• - Personal Shield
• - Armourweave Clothing

​

'What the Feth did I just walk into...'

Felix couldn't help but feel humbled by the declarations of love and despair fleeing the lips of the mysterious woman behind the veil, but he couldn't help but hear a familiar hint to her voice. He'd met hundreds of knights obsidian and yet he had been drawn to this encounter. It was only then he began to feel the pit grow in his stomach. 'No... not a knight...' As she slammed on the bubble near him he could see her face clearly, alabaster Echani skin and eyes reddened with tears freely streaming down her face. It caught Felix by surprise as a thousand emotions would process at light-speeds as Felix's eyes would glimmer a thousand colours before settling on a mix between a toxic nuclear green around the outsides which would fade to a soothing grey towards the center, dull and lifeless.

She demanded he leave, but he would smile at the suggestion. 'I don't think so Princess...' he would project with little more than a look as his attention was pulled back to the creature that approached them. The object of her love, a twisted, half formed regenerating mass of immortal as she seemed to approach closer. Blasted apart into gristle and bone to be knitting itself together at unfathomable speeds. This had to be either an extremely powerful force user or something that he knew that he shouldn't be attempting to deal with right now.

Her words were cutting, scathing, the kind that when spoken were meant to wound and maim a person. They were cruel, there was nothing more that could be said. She either wanted Quinn to leave and not look back, or she was trying desperately to sever the last couple ties that connected them together. Perhaps too desperately. Pain could make people do all kinds of dumb things. Love could make people even dumber. But then that smile cracked and something about it sent a chill down the Nobles spine... something had snapped... Felix Toiled for a moment, every part of him wanted to scoop Quinn up and ferry her away somewhere safe, she didn't need his protection, but the bubble that was surrounding her was thinning by the moment. If it popped, they were probably all dead.

"Well, you know me. I like to get myself in all kinds of trouble." his usual sly wit, somehow holding together, confident and sure as he would put his hand next to where hers was, palm facing outward. Although he couldn't touch her, his intent to replicate the hand she had laid on his shoulder on Ryloth. A language of touch echani knew well enough as he would mirror the sentiment she had shared to him. That he was here, and that she wasn't alone.

But then it hit...

A singular beam pierced the heavens like a drill that scorched the skies as the garnet pulse hammered into the ground with the destructive force of a solar flare. A couple miles away, hit astray by the collapsing station but it was enough that the ensuing fallout was going to annihilate the surrounding area. But like an answer to an unasked question a wave of force power washed over Felix, connecting him to everything around him through the force. Lunara Azure 's battle meditation would create questions but he found within it the path to communicate to others.

"I'm going to light up some guns I need dead, Then we need a transport here, now, follow the light!"

The message went out to any who would hear, Vemric Keldra, Kiff Brayde , John Locke anyone who could spare the guns connected by the battle meditation. And with no more prompt needed, he would turn to the skies, raise a hand and let loose the energy that he had stored within his body. Light he had absorbed from the sun-scorched earth, the turbolasers that lit up the landscape the fire that bathed Port Sorrow in liquid destruction all coalescing into a single solitary beam fired skyward like a flare. He'd been hoping to aim this weapon at Blade Ice as the stream of natural light penetrated the atmosphere blown apart by the super-laser. The beam would do nothing to a star destroyer's hull in space, but the functional laser pointer would be fantastic for the guidance systems of missiles and laser fire as it would contact a cluster of autocannons and turbolasers along the hull of Ozma Olumivius ' ship.

If the Fleet of the CIS could eradicate those guns, lighten the load of the rain pouring down onto them, perhaps transport wouldn't be too far away. After a few moments, he would hold the beam as long as he could, ten seconds perhaps fifteen as the smell of burning flesh came from his blackened hand, red volcanic cracks ran through his flesh from the concentrated heat overpowering his tutaminis frying his nerves badly enough that all the hand would feel was cold. His eyes would turn to Quinn.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend to know what's happening here, but people make their choices, you did everything you could, but she's chosen to go this way, I've chosen to be here and you're going to need to make a very important choice right now, or we're all going to be ash and dust when that laser hits us!"

Hopefully it wouldn't be long until some of the rain pouring on them would abate, and a shuttle would swoop in... But their time was limited, and they were running out of options.

Spoiler: Actions

-Felix Asks some of the fleet for help.
-Big beacon from the ground acting as a targeting laser to focus some of the guns on Ozma's ship to allow them some semblance of escape.
-Hopefully get a rescue ship headed our way!

​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Glass the place
Brotherhood: Isabella Pavan | Aldo Garrick | Ozma Olumivius | Tu'teggacha | Talon Kyber | Alars Keto | Marlon Sularen | Halketh

CIS: Kiff Brayde | BX-4381 | Vemric Keldra | Daegon Corvinus | John Locke | Jason Breaker | Verin Oldo | Felix Aquila | Laertia Io
Felix Aquila | Kirk Tektus | Darth Metus | Anashla Deshal

Anyone else in Port Sorrow and Fleeting.

Fleet

Spoiler

2/2 Praetorian Star Destroyers
3/4 Supremacy Star Destroyers
13/15 Autarch Star Destroyers
Many CR-90 Corvettes
Darkshear Fighters
Divine Fighters

At the front of the bridge, Zachariel is afforded an excellent view of Rhand and the space battle above it. He can easily see the ships lost, the damages done, and the CIS fleets jumping in? Eyes widening in shock and surprise, he turns to one of the officers of the bridge. Pointing towards the fleets, he snarls one word out.
"Explain."

Just as shocked as the warlord, the operator stutters before finally speaking, voice shaking.
"I... I don't know mi'lord, CIS fleets have simply arrived. There is no data for this situation?! They've just appeared from hyperspace! How could they have known and where the feth did they even come from????"

Snarling, Zachariel turns towards the window once more, looking out into space and the chaos ensuing. Outwardly he is still the warlord they all know and fear, inwardly he is concerned and very worried. CIS reinforcements arriving so swiftly, it should be impossible, yet here he saw the evidence. Scowling beneath his helm, scenarios play through his mind, before Zachariel reaches one simple conclusion. This changes nothing, it merely meant the chances of escape after were even less likely. No doubt every ship in this fleet would soon be dead, but they would complete their mission, glassing Rhand.

As more fire hits the fleet, Zachariel ignores it to watch the light show behind it all. Explosions continue to rock the Holy City and CIS ships attempt to prevent the orbital bombardment, even if only partially. They were too far away from his own fleet though, the ship of Laertia Io intercepts the fire from further out, but those directly above atmosphere continue to fire unmolested. Then the fire slows down from Zachariel's fleet, as Ozma is so kind as to give the spirits a rest. On the other hand, fire from the CIS fleets simply continues on, and Zachariel sees a further two Autarchs succumb to fire, even as the Supremacy's take heavy fire as well.

Roaring, Zachariel wheels from the window and crosses to Ozma in three swift strides. Pulling his axe out, it crackles to life as he points it close to Ozma.
"In mere minutes we may be dead and you wish to halt our final sacrifice to the Avatars?! Those spirits won't exist if we cease our fire! WE won't exist if we cease! YOU ARE NOT TO GIVE THEM A BREAK!" Snarling once more, Zachariel takes another step closer to Ozma. "SHIFT FIRE TO PORT SORROW AND DO NOT STOP FIRING!"

Snarling low at Ozma, the warlord turns back to the front of the ship. His order is followed, whether by Ozma or the bridge crew, Zachariel cares little. Now is not the time to worry about specifics, now is the time for one final shot of glory. As the guns shift towards Port Sorrow, Zachariel marches back to the front of the bridge, axe still crackling in hand. Growling low, he looks out across the viewport once more. He is in time to see the blast from The Prophet strike close to Port Sorrow, watches the return fire cut into the Prophet in turn. The damage is relatively light, but noticeable.

"Have one of the Supremacy's move to support the weakened section, that ship cannot die."
The ship turns, still under fire. However, with its weapons fire halted, the power is instead shifted to shields. This provides some more protection, even as the ship closes on the Prophet, aiming to join it and protect it. Sadly though, it's still rocked by heavy fire as it moves away. Turning from the sight, Zachariel snarls upon hearing an update regarding his fleet. He had lost two ships and a further three were damaged, one heavily. It wasn't the only ship they had lost, as the first Supremacy Star Destroyer lost at the very beginning finally crashes into Rhand. Once again, it burrows deep along the ground, as more explosions rock it.

Digging along the ground into Port Sorrow, it's partially engulfed by the laser from Caelitus' Prophet, causing even more explosions to rock the ship. A larger explosion soon rocks the ship, sending shrapnel far and wide, and engulfing a good chuck more of Port Sorrow. Eyes narrowed beneath his helmt, Zachariel remains unmoved as his ship continues to lurch beneath CIS fire. He doesn't utter a word as his fleet is hammered by enemy fire, instead he watches Port Sorrow.

Out in the expanse of the void, fighters duel, shots are exchanged, and hell is unleashed. Cries go out across local comms and positions are called out. Locations are given and coordinates inputted, even as some strange laser points towards his ship. It does nothing but highlight a point of target, aside from all of Port Sorrow. Sneering beneath his helm, Zachariel shakes under a particularly direct shot. Growling, Zachariel turns his helm to the bridge crew.
"Fire. Everything."

Fully aimed towards Port Sorrow, aiming to blanket it all in auto cannon fire, Zachariel's fleet does as commanded. Missiles spew forth, autocannon shots arc through the air, and more normal munitions are let loose. It's a glorious display, one unstoppable, unbeatable. But as Zachariel's ship rocks once more, he knows well that they will be stopped and they will be beaten. There is simply too much fire directed towards them, too many ships arrayed against the Brotherhood. But they will make this end memorable and they will strike a blow to the CIS.

Watching with quiet fury, Zachariel is unmoved by the distruction, it merely help soothe an unquenchable rage. Explosions rock Port Sorrow from autocannon fire, even as missiles impact home. The laser of Caelitus's ship continues to spread destruction and mayhem, the Supremacy Star Destroyer engulfs more of the Port in its death throes. Fighters fly final sorties across the planes and around the Port, even as the Holy City nears ever closer, debris already slamming home across the breadth and width of the area. Port Sorrow is going up in flame and fire, it is being engulfed in death of an untold scale. And it's only enough to satiate a small portion of the rage Zachariel feels, only enough to quench the tiniest sliver of his bloodlust. Port Sorrow would die, Zachariel could only hope he wouldn't die with it, lest his rage and bloodlust be left unsatisfied.

 

[Vyse de Valorous]

Location: The Grand Bone Temple
Allies: Kyyrk Jhira Mereel Zlova Rue Diocletian Kahmen’’a Ghost "Frankie" Sterling
Opposition: Darth Senthral Darth Tennacus Darth Carnifex
Objective: Cult Magick
Equipment: Lightsaber Armor Crushgauntlets

The squire recovered his senses just as they practically screamed at him to flee to the point of even pain. Only to hear the loudest explosion he'd ever heard, eyes rushing to the stone roof above him cracking and plunging at extreme speed down to make this his tomb. Sheer panic came across his face as there was no time to do anything besides to raise his arms in a futile gesture, as the rocks instead of making him into CIS brand paste were flown backwards in a massive display of power.

Absolutely stunned he was frozen in place for a moment, he had just stared certain death in the face and.. lived.

Nothing he could have done was to save him, yet here he was standing, walking, breathing. He had barely gotten off his sand ball of a prison and he nearly just died. His life's aspirations just nearly snuffed out like so many had already been on this world of death. Vyse looked around, ones sense of youthful immortally broken and jarred. Only to hear his orders and snap out of it. A grim determination filling him as he replied

"It will be done sir."

Vyse went sprinting off with unnatural speed, focused and in perfect control unlike the mad dashes of before. Setting off with a grim detrimnation to get out of this hellhole. His speed fueled by the still darkness around him but even further by the rage, his life was nearly lost, with it every single thing he dreamed of, fought for, and spent all the time suriviving and it was nearly all gone in a flash..

He would NOT let that be the end. He would get off this dying world and he will damn well complete his mission doing it, whatever it had become now in this sea of madness gore and death.

Vyse storming past the frozen, horrific statues of the once undead, he seeing their appearance but more now how clearly it was that they were once just normal people now that they weren't trying to tear his limps apart and devour him. That they had be sacrificed by this horrid order of madmen to at best puppet their corpses, and at worse corrupted their very essence.

They needed to be stopped.. No.. they all needed to die. A determination to avenge these poor people filled him.. and not end up like them.

Finally arriving at the temple they had set out to begin with he stormed up the annihilated temples remains to regroup with his twi'lek ally only to dash out of the way as pure blackness beamed out of the buildings remains, the ground quaking beneath his feet as he focused to keep on his feet, a brief pause as he hesitated to confront what caused that before resigning himself. Carefully entering, crimson lightsaber at the ready. His foot steps echoing in the ruin as he entered.

Upon seeing his crimson ally Zlova Rue he'd rush over disengaging his weapon and putting it on his belt. Focus totally to his only remaining ally who was currently about to stumble over. He dashed over to help her, she seeing a figure in dark armor, cloak flowing behind him. Rushing to extend his arm to catch her as she seemed ready to fall over only to be surprised to find it bated away. Hearing what she had to say, he slightly smirked under his helmet. Inspired by her words of pure strength even as she barely stood. Sensing she was as tried of this madness as he was.

"Happily."

He said his tone resolute. Ready to see the end of this nightmare as he followed her to their next destination on this doomed world.

 

[John Locke]

Wearing: Would you believe, a suit?​

_________________________________________________

THE FORTRESSA​

Tagging: Daegon Corvinus | Spencer Varanin | Felix Aquila | Ozma Olumivius | Anashla Deshal
_________________________________________________

It was rare the Locke cousins got to meet, the diverging paths of their responsibility and allegiances had drawn them apart, bouncing around different corners of the galaxy like pinballs. An opportunity for them to gather in the same place at the same time should have been something a little more joyous, a chance for them to catch up, to spend some time together. Under normal circumstances.

This situation was anything but normal.

Around them fighters and ships wheeled and died, spat shards of light into the darkness, battling each other with each other in the silence. Man and droid gave their lives in a pitched battle, turning the space around them into a maelstrom of death and energy, a web that settled over the ships around them as two leviathans wrestled for supremacy.

“We’re not close enough to worry about, at least not yet, the Maw thought they could trap us here and things are getting a little dicey. Ok, a lot dicey. They’ve been jumping in ship after ship and, I’m not sure if we’re going to beat them back this time, or have to pull out.”

Back there on the bridge, in front of all the crew he’d needed to blow it off, make it seem like the threat facing them was minimal, an inconvenience at best. It was what the crew had needed to believe to fill them with the confidence they needed to fight the battle before them, to continue to risk life and limb to protect the Confederacy and its citizens. But here, alone with his cousin John could let that mask slip, if only for a moment.

“We’ve lost comms but, the last we saw it’s gotten pretty bad on the ground. The Maw decided they’d rather burn everything, kill everyone down there rather than even risk the chance of us winning. It doesn’t matter who it is, a slave or even one of their soldiers, they’re trying to kill them all and we’re fighting to hold them back for long enough to get everyone out. And the knights are right there in the middle of all that.”

For a moment the man closed his eyes, letting his mind drift back to another battlefield, to another war. Life seemed to have become a series of one war after another, one crisis and then another. Yet, they couldn’t stop, they couldn’t rest. A small fire, a small issue might seem insignificant but given space and time it could become a conflagration that would burn down the galaxy. The Confederacy had always answered the call, when it was needed it had acted to crush those who would harm, as they were now. Dark eyes flicked open to observe Allison, teeth working at the soft flesh of his lower lip for a moment, considering his cousin, the worry and concern behind her eyes. Allyson had never really been one to ask for help, to be worried about someone else, someone who barely knew.

“She means that much to you huh?”

A soft sigh slipped from the man’s lips. A hand coming up to rest on her shoulder, nanobots streaming over his skin to wrap around her frame as an armour formed around her.

“You won’t find anything better than this in there, just…it’s new so don’t scratch up the paint job too much.”

A hand gestured towards the hangars, as the man turned to return to the bridge.

“You’re already cleared to grab any ship you want, just, come back in one piece.”

This time he did run, slowing only before he made it to the bridge doors, slowing to tug his suit into place, to fall back into a more leisurely pace as he stepped back onto the bridge, almost running into the back of their guest.

“We wouldn’t want to make your life too easy now, but I’m sure the Vicelord will have one installed in the ship’s next refit.”

A nod at the Vicelord as he moved to replace him on the bridge, putting the pair out of his mind, as they shuffled off to whatever corner of the ship they’d chosen to preform their magic. Well not alone, he was on a bridge full of people bu, as the dark-haired Exarch settled into the chair he felt that familiar weight of command resting on his shoulders.

Here we go again.

Comms were down and it didn’t seem like they were having much luck breaking through the jamming yet either. It might be possible given time, but time was one thing that they didn’t have.

“I guess we’re doing this the hard way then. Someone get me CiC, I want to know where the closest concentration of Confederate ships are.”

A few panicked looks flicked around the room as there was a scramble, heads bowed over consoles before a small voice spoke up.

“Umm, it looks like a new taskforce jumped in off the port bow and are turning towards us as full speed.”

“And this didn’t strike you as urgent information? Turn to meet them and bring engines up to…”

John’s command was cut short by a shout from one of the sensor bays, a technician almost jumping to his feet in eagerness to cover their earlier lapse.

“Energy release on the planet sir, some kind of attack seems to be targeting one of the Maw ships now.”

It was visible from space, that beam of light that struck at the surface of the ship, highlighting it for a moment against the dark backdrop of space.”

“Ok…helm bring us to cruise speed and link us up with the incoming task force. Comms, I want the Ventress to accompany us. I don’t care if you have to use morse code, or send someone out onto the hull of the ship with flags…though they might want to be big flags. Tactical, target the ship and hit it with everything we’ve got. CiC, launch all squadrons now, all bombers and half our fighters are to proceed towards that ship and engage it, all remaining fighters are to screen our advance.”

Slowly, ponderously, the Fortressa finally started the shift forward, like some great beast released from its shackles. It was finally going to war.

Spoiler: Actions Taken

Actions Taken:

Fortressa moving towards Anashla Deshal and her task force
All Squadrons launched
15 Squadrons of Raptor Bombers and 15 Squadrons of Colla-class fighters sent towards Ozma Olumivius 's ship as highlighted by Felix Aquila
All remaining fighters screening Fortressa's advance.

​

 

[Darth Senthral]

​

Darth Senthral​

Occupation: Sith Apprentice under Darth Tennacus
Objective: Operation Cinder
Location: Flying the Wandering Pilgrim for evacuation
Weaponry: Double Bladed Crimson Lightsaber, the Dark Side, and trusty DL-22 Blaster Pistol​

Senthral listened well to his Master's beckoning, and answered the call with fresh orders for 77-B. To get the Wandering Pilgrim to the Gehinnom immediately. Chances were? Giant or not the thing was probably going down in no time at all. He didn't take his chances, it was a quick retrieval, in and out. They had landed and obtained a Living Sith Lord. His very own Master, and so quickly had they flown off the Gehinnom after. All and all? It was an explosive death avoided for both the Sith.

"Master. Where to next? Have you interest in capturing one below?" It was clear he meant a member of the CIS. Not that he had read through his Master, but he knew Darth Tennacus to be the type always with another plan after the first and even often after the second. That and he had such interests, not that such wasn't readable even if he tried hide it. The CIS seemed to be something he had increasing interest in picking apart. If they weren't yet done with them. That would suit him well. If they had to leave immediately. Like here and now? So be it.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron, the little shadow-killer
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Slave of the Maw​

Objective: BYOO, try to survive (Maw side)
Location: Rescue ship
Equipment: N/A || OPBC-01m
Tag: N/A

[ Cry ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ ​

I don’t know how long I’ve been in the field, but slowly I managed to stop crying. I looked around, the bleeding stopped, my nose, eyes and ears didn’t bleed either. Nothing just hurt and I was alone. Peace, silence, pleasantly warm sunlight, pleasant breeze, chirping of birds and buzzing of beetles. All beautiful green, the sky blue, huge mountains in the distance, with snow-capped peaks, and at their feet a fabulous, dark blue lake. It was the property of my paternal grandparents, where I fled later if I couldn’t stand the outside world.

Only then did this place exist in my mind and not in reality. It was an instinctive escape. Something happened to me, not only physically, but mentally as well. Here, in this place, I could always think, this place was sheltered. Even my brother and mother were never able to get here. The last line of defence against their horrors. This time I was already sitting, but I hugged my knees and legs again. I should go, run, and face the trouble. I was scared. I was alone, completely alone.

Alone…

My thought almost ran through my built world, the mountains and meadows echoing the word. Alone! No! I had peers, I had friends who stood by me, with whom we fought together for years. There were those who were already dead, but I still have many peers. There were those for whom I was important. This thought gave me strength. I have to go home to them. We were a lot important to each other, it had to be. I had to get home.

Being able to be with them again in the future gave me strength. I felt like I was ready again to face what these memories and nightmares could cause. I took one last deep breath. My fictional world began to fade and disappear. The next moment I was at Serenno again, in the capital, the day we won and the planet was liberated. The others were there yet I just felt one thing.

Loneliness…

 

[Talon Kyber]

THE AKKADESE
MAW BASESHIP
RHAND ORBIT
Tu'teggacha Marlon Sularen Isabella Pavan Zachariel Steelblood
BX-4381 OOM-001-JELLYBEAN OOM-002-HONEYCOMB Darth Metus Amaya Cardei
Daegon Corvinus Kiff Brayde Vemric Keldra Jason Breaker Anashla Deshal ​

"You promised me Rhand's sacrifice would be worth more than fire and ash."

Talon could almost hear the cackling sorcerers on his burning bridge. Consorting with dark powers always came at a price and not always the one advertised. His fleet was in ruins. There would be more ships. More crews. There always were. Still today had been costly for the pirate king. His reputation thrived on fear and the Confederacy's meddling threatened that grip over Wild Space.

"Recall the spider cruisers," he snarled, "All hands prepare to board the Gehinnom."

One of his surviving deckhands started to protest and Captain Kyber plunged his massive force pike through the pirate's chest effectively cutting off any further debate. He would not allow these arrogant interlopers to secure even a pyrrhic victory against the Maw. If they wanted to rescue the fallen holy city's doomed cargo their battle droids and Force commandos would have to wade through a horde of stimmed up marauders.

He took control of the Tarantula cruiser himself. Only six of the heavy gunships remained under his banner, the others lost in a failed boarding attempt on the CNS Lady Talon, but with a mass fighter escort it would be enough to land hundreds of his pirates on Gehinnom even as it burned its way through Rhand's upper atmosphere. Talon made quick work of the worldship's outer hull with his cruiser's beam cannon then joined the others as they hacked and blasted their way on board.

"No quarter!" Kyber's distorted roar echoed over the explosions, "Kill anything that moves!"

Nagnol gas canisters preceded their arrival. Smoke clouded everything and sensor equipment went haywire. Soon enough Talon glimpsed the faint outline of CIS dropships. He raised the crackling force pike, urging his corsairs on in challenge. An undisciplined mob of angry criminals charged the battle droids, so out of their mind on adrenals they seemed heedless even of blaster fire.

"Pathetic."

With a scowl he bashed the nearest droid's head off.

Spoiler: Most Wanted

• Recusant-class Light Destroyer (damaged baseship)
• 2x Neutron Star II Bulk Cruisers (one crippled)
• 1x Buccaneer Frigates
• 2x Hornet Carriers
  • Thornwave Starfighters
• 2x Marauder Corvettes
• 6x Tarantula Spider Cruisers

Spoiler: Dead Men Tell No Tales

• 1x Neutron Star II Bulk Cruiser
• 3x Buccaneer Frigate
• 2x Vakbeor Cargo Frigates
• 1x Hornet Carriers
• 4x Marauder Corvettes
• 6x Tarantula Spider Cruisers

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• Attack ships driven off by the surviving 42nd Skirmish Line.
• Starfighters and Tarantula Cruisers are recalled for a boarding action on the Gehinnom.
• Kyber leads a small horde of mawite buccaneers against the CIS rescue teams at Landing Zone Actual in close quarters combat.

 

[Ghost "Frankie" Sterling]

Location: the Destroyed temple
Objective: Cover the retreat and upload consciousness
Current equipment: D16 slugthrower (distroyed), vibro knife, D16 pistol (low ammo), H.A.R.M mass production armor (broken),

Ghost waded threw the dead of those around him after the temple was blown asunder and the various debris kicked up killed zombies and allies alike. Ghost struggled to his knees as his armor was hanging on by straps and wires as the explosion had taken its toll on it even managing to break his main weapon. Keying his coms he reached out to his hades corp contacts above the planet. "Upload my consciousness to the next body im not making it off this world..." their was no response as he felt his mind slipping Proving to himself that he was effectivly escaping this with the aid of a new body.

Leave it to hades corp to make death a inconsiquential part of war when they can produce bleeding edge tech mixed with sith alchemy ghost stopped questioning the level of ethics the corperation had when their last ceo made life due to a edlrich god giving him powers. taking the various ammo boxes off his hips for his D16 slugthrower rifle and setting them down in front of him he aimed a shaking hand armed with his d16 pistol at the ammo boxes as zombie hord that remained made their way to the wounded Ghost. When his mind stopped being hazy he took that as the process was done now all that needed to be done was for this body to expire.

when the undead got close enough Ghost. smiled from underneith his broken helmet. as he keyed his comms. "They may break us troops but remember this CIS dont die We just regroup in the Nether." Pulling the trigger on his pistol the shot impacted his ammo boxes he set down causing them to cookoff with a shraplnel bomb shredding and killing all in 20 meters of Ghost including himself. only question is what facility will Ghost wake up in when he comes to?

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Port Sorrow, Rhand
Objective I.: Rescue the slaves
Equipment: Kiss of the Red Witch | 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Corin Autem | Kahne Porte (planned)

[ Primo Victoria ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ ​

The plan and idea were good, but the data obtained did not allow all this. She was still waiting for Corin's response when she received another message from Cal. It was far from reassuring.

< ~ Ingrid, you have to start withdrawing all of our units off the planet right away. The Maw's huge space station sinks down to the city. It will crash into the surface soon! ~ > the woman knew that the man was using a private channel and he didn't say the words out loud either, she used the chip, so she called her by her first name and not what etiquette requires.

<"Feth!"> she said as she looked up at the sky.

The huge space station was indeed visible. She asked a question to MANIAC, how big this thing was. The answer was not pleasant, eighty kilometres. Ingrid felt a change in the Force, recognizing what it was, but ruled it out. Since it was closer to the light side than the neutral side, or the Dark side, the woman was neutral in vain, because she was Shadow Born, the light would have been a pain to her.

<"This is L'lerim here for all the Eternal Imperial military personnel and units on and near to the planet. Start the retreat immediately and leave the planet! Send dropships to those who can’t reach the landing points in time!"> she issued the order, and confirmatory responses soon arrived.

After that, she turned to Corin and those with her.

<"You have to go too, major, I will release the prisoners without the explosions and take them to Netherworld!"> she said.