Laphisto was one of the few mercenaries summoned by the Imperial Confederation to aid in the defense of Voss-Ka. Their orders had been clear enough secure the mystics and hold the city until the evacuation was complete. Simple in theory, never in practice.
The streets below the Tower had become a labyrinth of smoke and shattered stone, the air thick with the hum of distant blasters and the low thunder of orbital fire. His battalion had spread through the outer wards, locking horns with Black Sun enforcers and Sith soldiers pushing their way toward the sanctum. Each intersection burned brighter than the last, turning the city's stonework orange with reflected flame.
He stood at the edge of a half-collapsed causeway, scanning the telemetry on his vambrace as reports filtered through the comm-net. One voice broke through the static steady, frightened, distinctly Voss. A mystic's tone carried an urgency that even the chaos couldn't drown out. Two of their kin had fled the main group, seeking refuge in the old catacombs beneath the city.
Laphisto exhaled through his nose, gaze lifting toward the horizon where smoke veiled the twin suns. "
Of course," he muttered softly, almost to himself. He keyed in the coordinates, the display flickering as it triangulated the signal. Too far to reach on foot. The nearest gunship was tied up in a dogfight a few blocks north. That left him little choice.
He switched frequencies. "
Tarain," he said, his voice calm and deliberate, a tone that carried through even the static. "
Hold the forward line. Keep the mystics we've gathered under guard and push for evacuation priority. I'll retrieve the missing two."
He stepped back, drawing a deep breath as his shoulders shifted and the air stirred. With a deep, sinewy flex, his draconic wings unfurled broad, leathery membranes stretching wide, glinting faintly under the burning skyline. The wind caught beneath them, carrying heat and ash. When he leapt, it was with a heavy downward thrust that scattered debris and sent loose dust spiraling skyward.
He soared above the battlefield, gliding low through the smoke to mask his approach. The wind rippled against his wings as he cut through the haze, his eyes scanning the labyrinth of rooftops below. From the distance came the pulse of blaster fire, the echo of shouted orders, the metallic scream of a starfighter banking too low. Amid that cacophony, he felt it a flicker of fear through the Force, sharp and panicked, close enough to taste.
He adjusted his angle and descended. The ruined streets of Voss-Ka opened beneath him, a tapestry of firelight and shadow. Two figures moved through it robed, stumbling, their pace frantic. The lost mystics.
Laphisto folded his wings in tight, letting gravity take him. The rush of air grew deafening as he plummeted, cloak whipping behind him. At the last instant, his wings snapped open, arresting his fall in a burst of displaced dust and smoke. He struck the cobblestone in a crouch, taloned claws scraping against the ground.
Rising to his full height, he drew his rifle in one fluid motion. His vocoder crackled softly as his voice carried out across the ruined courtyard. "
You two,.
You've strayed from the safety of your own. There's a forward base nearby where your kin are being evacuated. Stay close, and keep your heads low."
The mystics froze, fear and disbelief plain on their faces. Laphisto tilted his head, the faintest sigh escaping him as he lowered his weapon slightly. "
You've seen enough death for one day. Don't let your visions become truth."
Kryos
Ronhar Tane
(Opposition)
