Invasion Dissolution of the Rim | SO Invasion of Sluis Van & Denab

[Arla Rodarch]

Dagobah
The Swamp

Spoiler: Arla's Gear

Beskargam
Shotguns
Phazor
Claw and Fang

War was in Arla's blood, one might say. She wouldn't say. Having accepted the Mandalorian culture and way of life, her mindset was that blood didn't matter. Who you were and what you did mattered. Both parents had been warriors, perhaps of a different kind, but no strangers to battle. Having gotten the approval from Mand'alor Ijaat Mereel to take a proactive stance against the Sith, she'd set out for the war front utilizing time and location data provided by the Jedi.

As a Mandalorian, she couldn't bring herself to fully trust the Jedi, and less so the Galactic Alliance, but they were at the very least and most pessimistic view, allies of convenience. Probably more than that, given that they had shed blood together recently. Warriors respected such things more than most others, and Arla despite herself, gave the Jedi their due.

Arla wore her old armour, feeling that her new beskar'gam would not quite suit her purpose, she wanted to remain mobile, and agile. She did have all her new and fancy weapons, along with the beskad she'd carried since being accepted into Clan Rodarch, gifted to her by an elder, who told that it had once been wielded by Goran Beviin, among others. The weapon had served her well in her own adventures, as had many of the other toys and tools of violence that festooned her beskar'gam.

The grizzled old voice came to her mind unbidden, as if speaking to her across the centuries, one Mando'ad to another. "Learn to give yourself over completely, and not to the shabla Force, to total victory. Me or him." She patted the sheath in which the trusty beskad rested, and smiled grimly. That was something she knew how to do. She'd read the histories of her people every chance she got.

Her fighter came out of light speed, and entered a massive space battle. She'd never seen this many ships all at once, even with her experience. She'd never seen this many massive capital ships, filling space, and trading sheets of fire. It was pure chaos, and she had to concentrate to thread her way to her target.

She never made it. A wing of fighters jumped her as she made her atmosphere entry, and it was all she could do to avoid being wiped. Eventually she got her crippled craft low enough that she could go the rest of the way under her own power. "Sorry." She apologized to the borrowed astromech, leaving the unfortunate soul to his fate, and ejected from the fighter.

The kick of the ejection seat was matched by the kick of her own jetpack arresting her fall, and by the time her boots hit the muddy ground, Arla's back hurt like hell and her neck felt like it had been half twisted off. She quickly took a couple of pain pills, knowing she couldn't afford to be at half pace just now, and scanned the area. The swamps made for excellent cover. Only a kilometer from the target, she couldn't see it, but that worked both ways. She started walking.

"Ah shiv, here we go again."

Quinn Varanin

Valery Noble Kaia Starchaser Coren Starchaser Allyson Locke Rhiza Dural Veylin Torque Nej Tane Quintessa Darth Strosius Michael Hightower @Zeptepi Zambrani Thomas Barran Darth Carnifex Gerwald Lechner Rajan Harpal Adeline Noctua Corbin Vasher Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The marshy ground sank beneath His feet, mud sucking at His armored boots with every step. He'd only taken a few tentative steps onto Dagobah before He decided that this world needed to be paved over with ferrocrete. The Force was strong here, the untamed wilds allowing it to flourish without limit, but it had been tainted by the Jedi's temple and their prolonged presence. But all of that would change today, they would erase the stain from this world, setting the path for darkness to again creep back into Dagobah and claim it in perpetuity for the Sith Ord-

Danger!

His head pivoted, but His shadow was faster. The feminine shade moved quickly, faster than the mind could perceive, and loosed a shimmering spike of imperceptible energy towards the oncoming projectile. They collided in the air, a wave of air preceding the thunderous explosion that rippled out from the impact. The shadow kept itself in a defensive position between the Dark Lord and His hidden assailant, white eyes narrowing as their shadowy surface rippled with indignation.

But, the Dark Lord held a different disposition. Now that He managed to catch a look at the weapon used, He could sense the identity behind His attacker. It was not the first time they had fought, after all. "Allyson Locke." His voice carried over the bog, muting all other sounds. The Sith ahead of Him stopped for a moment, looking back, but then continued on after a second. They would continue on their missions, He did not need their aid. "It has been a long time. I can see that Taeli's gift has been put to good use, I will have to relay my compliments."

He took a step forward, the inconvenience of the mud again making itself known. "If you've come to put yourself between me and the temple, you may do so. All that I request is that we relocate to a less unsavory location. This wretched bog is unseemly for the both of us."

Allyson Locke ​

 

[Commodore Helix]

Objective: Knight Light
Tags: Open​

The swamp-jungles of Dagobah were remarkable. An ecological wonder, full of bizarre life forms found nowhere else in the galaxy, some of which defied easy taxonomic categorization. On this particular day, the endless expanses of trees and mud sang with the calls of a hundred different forms of life, a chorus of noxious biodiversity. Gradually, they fell silent, however, along one particular stretch...

A massive machine plowed through a copse of trees, flattening them to the muddy earth as it lumbered forward on powerful repulsorlifts. It was followed by another, and another, then still another, moving in formation toward their destination. Occasionally, one of the machines would trigger its forward weapons, sending a gout of azure fire to scour away particularly dense or otherwise obstructive vegetation. The fuel mix licked eagerly at anything it touched, no matter how sodden or non-flammable, and Helix could almost see the trees recoil in horror from that azure glow. Already, small patches of the blue flames had taken, and were spreading.

Behind the massive transports came row after row of Banestrikes. Their twin-gunned turrets swivelled as the autonomous vehicles peered around. Bringing up the rear, but quickly taking the lead as the advance scouts, came numerous Nightcrawlers, most with a few droids perched on their pontoons. The smaller tanks streaked ahead, handling the swampy terrain with ease and plowing aside anything in their path.

It was a fairly sizeable force to seize one location. The Sith had paid well, well enough that he'd turn a profit even with near-total losses, for it. Much as he had a low opinion of the Order and their ethos, they had two substantial virtues as a client base. A bottomless pocketbook, and a lack of concern for means as long as results were produced. As such, he continued to find himself in their repeated employ. Most other clients with the money got a little too hung up on his methods. Nothing wrong with that, under normal circumstances. Repeat business was usually not a bad thing, but he was leery of the Sith and their doings, at the end of the day.

Still, that was a problem for tomorrow, and the Temple was a problem for today. He slowed his pace somewhat as they closed, giving the order and causing the massive armored column to halt. They were on the end stretch. The structure was not far off, if his initial scans had been accurate. The Jedi wouldn't give it up easily, he was sure. In his mind, it would make more sense to just level a valueless religious structure with artillery to send a message, rather than expend ground resources attempting to take it. That, however, was not what his orders stipulated. The Sith seemed to want to storm the place personally, so storm it they would.

He tilted his head and broadcasted over the Sith channels he'd been given. "This is Helix. We're in position. Standing by to engage on your signal." He'd hit the place at the same time the primary Sith forces did, the moment he got the go-ahead from anyone in charge.

 

[CI-6660]

Location: Yumfla - Susevfi
Objective: I - Fires of Susevfi - Hold the Spaceport
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Tag: Nej Tane

So, Nej spun on his heels, and with the speed at only which a son of Morellia could fire it, his Enforcer pistol barking as it made contact with the Sith troopers next to the Knight in the spaceport- then meeting the Knight head-on, holding it at his hip, fanning the hammer as it made contact first with the Sith's torso, despite his best attempts to block it, then more rounds hit him. Half-dollar sized holes blew into the Sith, sending him tumbling backwards onto the floor of the Spaceport.

CI-6660 had known that Sith could die. She was under no delusions that they were immortal, after all. And yet, to see a Sith Knight cut down by a mere scoundrel with a slugthrower, if the blonde-haired, red-jacketed creature could even be called that, brought a chill to her skin. The Aetharian’s cyan-hued gaze took on a vengeful glint as the scene played out before her eyes, which ended when the Knight was sent sprawling to the ground. Then, when the gunslinger stepped over the Sith’s perforated body with a seemingly irreverent swagger in his gait, the Aetharian took action.

She jumped.

CI-6660 descended from her elevated position inside a building within the spaceport, before landing directly behind the entrance to the spaceport, with a solid titanium blast gate separating her from the scoundrel on the other side. The Cipher’s descent was slowed by her anti-gravity implant, allowing her to keep her balance upon landing, at which point the short-statured Aetharian began to walk towards the gate.

Then, as soon as CI-6660 was close enough, she set it alight.

Fire, burning at a temperature hot enough to melt tungsten, surged out from the palm of CI-6660’s left hand in burst after burst. On the opposite side, the scoundrel would notice the blast gate quickly turning incandescent as the searing heat began to deform, then liquify the metal.

He would have only a couple seconds to get out of the way before the gate was suddenly pushed outward in a concussive explosion wrought by a violent wave of overpressure, the molten chunks threatening to burn his flesh should they connect.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• EP-7 Elemental Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Combination Power Cell, CryoBan Cell, and Fuel Cell Pre-Charged Magazine (4)

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Objective 1​

Tag: Rajan Harpal​

​

The Emperor and his entourage moved on the Senate building with no hesitation. Buildings shook and collapsed, and the rythmic tap of goose steps and his staff's pommel echoed through empty streets amid the sound of screams and gunfire. Only as they neared did reports begin to come in regarding the nature of their enemy - unknown force users not previously reported on scouting operations or insider cult activity.​

​

In many fronts they had begun to push the Sith back, but to what end it was yet unknown. As soon as the Sith were killed, or their troops scattered, the gap would be filled by more - zealous in their drive, the religious masses of Empyrean's military fought with their gods on their side. It inspired them with great strength, to beat back the weapons of their oppressors - fear mongering driving them forward to commit unspeakable acts.​

​

For Empyrean, a few Jensaari had attempted to block his way - but it was the Praetorians and loyal guards that engaged long before they neared. The most dangerous warriors in the Sith Order, each sacrificing their place in the inheritance and continuation of their order to ensure its leadership survived. Considered noble in Sith circles, they were more than enough to match the Jensaari while other forces moved on those positions.​

​

For Empyrean, there laid nothing between him and the Capital building. The Corpse strode the steps as his army began to move to surround the building, setting up fortifications, and preparing a variety of breach plans drawn up weeks prior to this assault. With a raise of his hand, the front doors of the building shattering off their reinforced hinges, leaving the opening atrium in a cloud of dust.​

​

It was his first steps into the building that inspired an onslaught of blaster fire from a bunch of positions - kicking up further dust and obsfucication. Blaster bolts shredded through the cloud and landed in unknown location - the men shooting hoping to blanket the area in such a swath of destruction that nothing would remain. After a few seconds of constant fire, they slowed and stilled, waiting for some to settle to see if the Emperor had indeed fallen.​

​

But when the dust settled, the God Emperor of the Sith remained standing, dead as he was. With a lift of his cloudy, black hand, darkness rose from the collar of every man and consumed his flesh in the briefest of moments. Where heads were, now lay two pieces of a once living person - cut away by the inexporable destructive strength of the Dark Side manifest. The Dark Lord continued to enter the building, waiting for the first of his would be surrenderee's to meet him.​

 

[Zachariah Conway]

Location: Degobah
Tags: Rhiza Dural ( Commodore Helix )
Equipment: Lightsaber
Objective: 3/BYOO​

In the boys mind, he knew what he had to do.

He hadn't intended to be on the planet, nor had he intended to be involved in the battles of the Sith. However, he was on the planet and he had become involved so he figured he would at least attempt to play the situation into his hands, to get something from it. A temple under seige was likely to contain trinkets and goodies containing possible untold power.

It made sense in his head, did the plan. He'd done study on the Jedi in preperation, drawing from both knowledge new and old. He knew of their ways. Children around his age served as Padawan's, and there was likely to be a fair few of them around attempting to outrun the oncoming storm. A set of borrowed robes later and there was very little reason he wouldn't be able to slip in and make off with as much as he could carry.

Getting in was likely to be the most difficult task, he was coming in the same direction as the Sith. There was no obvious reason why they should let him in, of that he was aware. That was the one bit he hadn't yet figured out, the bit of the plan that would have to just occur naturally and that he would have to figure out on the fly. He hoped he was convincing enough to get in.

The bog was the most uncomfortable part of the walk. Zachariah was used to planets with actual tarmac walking areas, not mud and swamp and nastiness. It was however, part of the job. It was something he was just going to have to do despite how much he disliked it. Plus, it wasn't his outfit he was messing up so he honestly didn't care all that much.

He approached the front line and pretended to trip, making a slight showing of falling into the mud. He pulled himself back to his feet and almost ran towards the Jedi in the way, panting as he did. "Two of them, I think I lost them!" he shouted towards the Jedi on the front line. "I was out in the swamps, meditating! They just came at me, I didn't know what to do! I need to get in to the medbays! I'm no use out here! I'm a healer, not a fighter!"

He was just hoping he did enough to appear convincing enough to a load of Jedi that he was one of them.

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

​

ALLIES	RTL + ALLIES
ENEMIES	SITH ORDER
FORCES	Beast of Shukut - Flagship (x2)Covert-Class Dreadnaught(s) (x6)Duinuogwuin-Class Missile-Cruiser(s) Black Hand Marine(s)
LOCATION	ENTERING BATTLEFIELD

EQUIPMENT

• Personal Armor
• Personal Combat Shield
• Custom Repulse hand
• Ramikad Jetpack
  • (x2)PK-45 Hybrid pistol
  • Mk.II "Starfire" Plasmathrower
  • Vizsla dueling blade
  • Kinetite Gravity Hammer

"Why do we fight?!"

"TO AVENGE MANDALORE" The entire fleet decreed in unison. Voices from every captain rang out along fleet's internal channels. The bridge crews could be heard in the background, and even through the blast doors she could hear the entire crew cry out in response to her voice on the intercom, cast into the very depths of her new Battlecruiser.

Even her second in command for this battle, Admiral Leenic Ellsil who commanded his own extension of the rogue conglomerate they called The Black Fleet, would hear her voice shouting in the stars with a fire not seen since the liberation of Mandalore.

Through the machinations of Shuklaar Kyrdol , these masterless Mandalorians had come in search of battle. It would be to the evacuating league's benefit, but at the end of the day, they weren't here to escort. They were here to occupy as many sith vessels as they could. To do as much damage as they could.

"Why are we here?!"

"TO KILL IMPERIALS" they continued.

"Who are we?!"

"WE ARE MANDALORIANS"

"WHO ARE WE?!" She repeated just as the hyperspace tunnel vanished. They saw what they had always seen when leaving the tunnel: A burning world, and a target rich environment. They arrived ready, preformed into a chevron formation.

"WE ARE THE BLACK FLEET!"

With that, everyone returned to their stations, Hers being the forefront of the bridge.

The enemy's interdiction fields saw to it that The Black Fleet deployed further from the battlefield than most. That was a mistake. Primarily outfitted for guerilla warfare until recently, The Black Fleet had been designed to ambush their foes from afar, overwhelming shields before the enemy could even reach them.

Today would be no different.

Before they even entered the range of most ships, they began disgorging cruise missiles and Mass-driver rounds from their newly refit Sniper-naval cannons, and the Beast of Shukut's own Mk-001s, courtesy of Leenic's own design.

"Broadcast our IFF, no use in trying to hide it now. And link us up with Leenic's forces, Give the enemy a wall of Iron to throw themselves at."

 

[Nyles Kote]

Friendly Units:

• SB-01 Darasuum Morut-class Super-heavy Battlecarrier Darasuum Morut (flagship) 100 | 100
• 2x HB-01 Adenn Kyr'am-class Heavy Battlecarrier
  • Gra'tua 100 | 100
  • Verdyc 100 | 100

Units in Reserve: None that will arrive in time.
Ally Tag(s): Veylin Torque | Mig Gred | Django Parata | Aloy Vizsla | Kaia Starchaser | RTL and Allied Fleet
Enemy Tag(s): Michael Hightower | TSO Fleet

Equipment

• Armor:
  • Verd'jurkad'gam
  • 'Ysalamiri Birikad' Nutrient Frame
  • Vambrace Weapons:
    • TBP-01V Tractor-Pressor Beam Projector
    • PC-05V Plasma Caster
      • Plasma Gas Medium Cannister (1)
    • MML-01V Miniaturized Missile Launcher
      • Cretanr'ika-class Guided Plasma Micro-missile (4)
      • Striilir'ika-class Brilliant Micro-missile (4)
    • CP-03V CryoBan Projector
  • Back-mounted:
    
    • A-03S Verpine Shatter Autocannon
• Implant(s):​
  • 'Alr' Pilot Enhancement Package
  • 'Gar Tkiriyr' Neural Interface
• Melee:
  • B-01M Beskad
  • K-02M Kal (2)
• Sidearm(s)
  • LRH-5A Verpine Shatter Pistol w/ 'Kyrayc Sur'haai' 1-4x Short Range Optic
• Rifle(s):
  • RR-04B Ripper Rifle w/ 1-12x Medium Range Optic and UGL-02 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher
• Explosives:
  • Flex-5 Detonite Tape (1 roll)
  • Smoke Grenades (3)
  • Flash-Bang Grenades (3)
  • Class-A Thermal Detonator (2)

It was a terrible thing to watch a world burn. To watch it twice? Thrice, even? Nyles was afraid to admit that he almost didn't feel the weight of the tragedy about to unfold. He knew by now that no matter how hard they fought, how dearly they made the enemy pay for every inch he took, they would not save Susevfi. If there was one thing he'd learned having watched two worlds come to an end like this, it was that all that remained was for them to save as many people as was possible. Not all of them would get off. Most in fact, would not. If their nigh on perfectly planned evacuation of Breshig had resulted in countless people left behind, if the evacuation of Naboo during the last days of the CIS had resulted in so many missing, dead and displaced, then this would not end nearly as well.

Time, was what they needed, and every galactic standard gram of fight in their bodies was the only currency that they could pay in. This was their way of life, however. Every Mandalorian lived for the fight, whether they admitted it or not. It was an inescapable part of their blood. Jaster had found a way for them to get that fight without earning the galaxy's ire. The fact that they were among the few that stood between innocents and certain death at the hands of the dar'jetii, the fact that they once stood in the same place against the same threat, only strengthened their resolve. There wasn't a man or woman under his or Ruus Kote 's command that didn't feel this way with a conviction that was felt in every fiber of their being.

The bridge was deadly silent. His crew no doubt drowning in an ocean of their own feelings, memories and deliberations as he was. The company was scrambling every naval asset in the area to assist. The Morut and the two vessels accompanying it were the closest. No one had believed The Sith Order would have been able to break through their lines so quickly, and yet they had. There was no precise intel about what the haran was going on. Nyles didn't know if what they had coming was going to be enough, but he'd be damned if he wasn't in the very least buy time for help to get there.

Some would have argued that it would have been better to have waited for the rest of the ships to arrive, assemble and then make their way to Susevfi. Nyles knew however that every minute they spent waiting and then forming up to hope that they could turn the engagement to their favor was time that the dar'jetii would have to achieve their goals. After all, an imperfect plan executed imperfectly was better than a perfect plan not executed at all. In a time like this, time and initiative mattered.

Nyles distracted himself from these thoughts with more immediate concerns by going over the detachment's various status reports. His old mentor, Nir Kyrdol, had instilled the practice in him. Nir had always said that it was a helmsman's job to know every little detail and quirk about the ship he was at the controls of. It was only later in life that Nyles realized that went double for the ship's alor'ad and double again for formation commanders. Ever since he'd taken over old Skaran "Beskar" Netra's job, he had always made it a point to read fleet status reports down to the most minute detail.

"Last known puts the rest of our reinforcements hours out at best," said his XO, Emri Kyrr, from across the main tactical display. Emri's inquisitive eyes were studying him for a reaction from behind the polarized visor of her buy'ce. She didn't have to. They'd served with each other since the start of their careers. Most of his bridge crew had.

"We hold as long as we can. They'll either get here long enough to turn the tide or cover the retreat," he replied evenly, glancing up from the display. "Old Jaster would be proud to see us doing a job like this, keeping his legacy alive." He was of course referring to the part of the SuperCommando codex that stimpulated that Mandalorians should conduct themselves as honorable mercenaries. Helping buy time for the evacuation of the world in the face of the Sith juggernaut? He could scarcely think of a more honorable tasking than that.

"He died doing a job like this if the stories are right," countered Emri, inclining her buy'ce to the side ever so slightly.

Nyles let out an amused snort. "Oya shabla Manda." He looked up from the reports at Emri, a smile slowly forming across his features under his buy'ce.

Emri let out a short chuckle and then echoed, "Oya shabla manda."Nyles didn't have her in-helmet cam on, and nor was she transmitting, but he knew her long enough to know that she was mirroring his expression.

Almost as if on cue, Anni Kyrdol called out the words that they were all preparing themselves for, "Dropping out of hyperspace!" The ship reverted to hyperspace with the regularity he'd grown accustomed to over his years of service. The blast shields on the bridge shut as the optical transducer panels began syncing with the ship's main sensor systems. The tactical display came to life as the ship's sensor suite came to life. One by one various indicators on the display came to life as the Morut warmed itself up for battle.

The ship's Manda display synced with her escorts, widening the sensor picture. IFF markers began flashing into existence two or three at a time every fraction of a second as the Manda net processed the vast amount of sensor data. It was the first time Nyles finally understood what they were up against, but more importantly, it was the first time he was now seeing the dar'jetii super-dreadnought. Nyles knew better than to let the sheer size of the ship influence his assessment of its capabilities, but the enemy ship if his sensors weren't lying to him, was something else.

The Gar Strill sensors on all ships were going off like nothing else on his ship. That ship, its potential existence in the first place was the reason that they'd developed the nullification pods. He'd never seen the force weaponized on a scale like that before. Not in person in any case. Thank the Manda that they weren't fighting alone.

Friendly ships too showed up on the display. A ship from Clan Gred ( Mig Gred ), a corvette from the Wayward Children Privateering company ( Veylin Torque ), a few cruisers and scattered fighters that he didn't quite recognize the idents of ( Kaia Starchaser ), and of course, a portion of the Black Fleet. Nyles had no doubt that Aloy Vizsla would be leading this personally. Shuklaar had told him to expect them. He had no shabla clue what he'd pulled off, but then again, intelligence wasn't under his job purview. Most of the time, he preferred not to ask.

Prior to the advent of the Manda, the bridge would be awash with orders being shouted across at various stations. Nyles didn't need to, his hand flew across the interface with demonstrable efficiency. The orders were fairly standard bar one; launch fighter screen and Ram'ser bombers, deploy corvettes, deploy a dozen drone sentries and electronic warfare drones each and acquire firing solution for a dozen nullification pods and Voidstone dispersal missiles. The only orders he issued verbally were to his comms officer, Gett Netra, "Comms, raise every friendly vessel."

The connection signal flashed in the right corner of his HUD right about the same time as Gett gave him a "thumbs-up" to signal that he was connected. Nyles took a breath before he spoke, "This is Strill Securities Fleet Admiral Nyles Kote on the Darasuum Morut. Reinforcements are en route but they are hours out. Right now, we're it. Keep your comms connected so we can share our sensor picture with you. Black Fleet, Alor Kyrdol sends his regards. He couldn't be here today, so you'll have to settle for me. It is a pleasure to fight by both yours and Clan Gred's side. Oya Manda, vode."

With that, Nyles raised Ruus Kote , if he was going to get off the ship, now was about the only time he was going to get.

Spoiler: Summary

• Arrived in system.
• Picked up friendly and hostile targets on scanners/sensors.
• Picked up force use from the Mors Mons on the Gar Strill.
• Attempting to acquire lock on Mors Mons for nullification pods.
• Attempting to acquire firing solution for Voidstone dispersal missiles.
• Deployed fighters and super-heavy bombers.
• Deployed six corvettes per Adenn Kyr'am-class (12 total)
• Deployed eight corvettes from the Darasuum Morut
• Deployed a dozen electronic warfare and sentry (armed with mass-driver autocannons and missiles) drones per ship.
• Raised friendly forces for an initial contact message.
• Set up segue to drop pod launch in my post with Ruus Kote .

Edited to include Kaia Starchaser . I forgot, I'm terribly sorry.

 

[Darth Caedes]

• Outer Rim
• Korriban
• Capital City
• Palette— #db1f27 (red) #c9954c (gold)
• Tags— Madrona A’Mia | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | Darth Empyrean

Deep in the bowels of Korriban, Caedes stood in an anteroom off to the side of his assembly hall, separated from the finest regiment of his army by ornate double doors. Like the rest of his keep, Caedes had fashioned the doors from obsidian stone and the carved bones of Korriban’s most deadly monsters. Beyond them stood the five hundred Jen’ari of his elite Lightblood horde, all veterans of the war on Odacer Faustin. At his command, Elmindra Xitaar had sounded the call, and the horde had answered. Already, the Jen’koshu leaders had briefed the orderly undead on the slaughter to come, and worked them into a killing frenzy with promises of gore and feeding. The Jen’ari beat the hafts of their blades, tridents, and pole axes against the floor, sending shivers through the walls, giving the obsidian castle a pulse to temporarily overwhelm the fetid wind’s incessant howl. In time with the beat, the undead troops shouted aloud for their King, turning his name into an incantation.

Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des.

Caedes smiled and let the excitement build. Even through the tumult, he could hear the roars of his Jen’koshu Dreadlords and the simian, throaty hooting of the Jen’rusalka. He pictured the assembly in his mind, row upon row of armed and armored Jen’ari, and reveled in their twisted adoration. Jen’ari were violent to their core, and Caedes had treated his army well in his time as King, rewarding them with frenzy, blood, and flesh. He had augmented their loyalty with ancient binding spells, quietly cast. He had built his army with care, and its fearsome strength and unswerving loyalty had elevated him nearly to the top of the Sith Imperial hierarchy. Now, he had only to unseat the Dead Emperor, and the members of his scheming Dark Council, and he would sit atop the Sithari’s throne.

Caedes could not muster his entire army without leaving Korriban unguarded, but he could do the next best thing. Bring the Lightblood hordes and lead them himself. He would leave Zal Aditi, his trusted Apprentice, in charge of the world until his return. Caedes knew she would not betray him. Besides, he was certain the Lightblood horde would be enough, more than enough, to slaughter the petty resistance of the whimpering Trade League— and when the faction was fully dead, Empyrean might finally reward him.

Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des.

The rhythmic beat of weapon hafts on the floor grew louder, faster, building toward a crescendo. Beside Caedes, snarling and drooling, stood Bloodmoon and Soulstorm, his Tectâri pets. The rising volume of the chanting agitated the bipedal, demon-like Tectâri. Both were dumb but quite powerful, quite loyal, and their long barbed tongues lulled from the fanged sphincters of their mouths. Their claws dug into the floor and both uttered low, guttural growls. Caedes reached out to pat them each on their huge, armored flanks.
“Be at ease,” he said, and let arcane power creep into his voice. The power of the Force sedated their tension. The Tectâri uttered satisfied murmurs and relaxed.

For the sake of appearances, Caedes had armored the monstrous mounts in their war gear. Spiked plate barding covered the fiery skin of their wide backs and broad chests. He had even armored himself, though he would consider it a personal failing to be forced to engage in melee combat on this venture. Still, the Dreadlords and people of Korriban relished seeing their King outfitted for war. His light, energy absorbing breastplate and helm, both forged in one of Korriban’s furnaces from a Dark Side soaked ore unique to the bloody world, glimmered in the light of the anteroom’s yellow glow-ball. His Sith Sword, King’s Razor, through which he could cast a host of deadly magicks, and cut through the magicks of his enemies, hung from his belt. An arsenal of defeated Jedi’s lightsabers similarly hung from a quiver at his thigh.

Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des.

As it had with the Tectâri, the noise agitated the stacked corpses in the walls of Korriban’s keep. The heretical Ashland Crusaders and their light-drunk, misguided Jedi Order had, for years, sought to rebuild the world of Korriban in their own image. So, in a way, Caedes had granted their wish. In conjunction with the taboo magicks of the Jen’rusalka witches who served him, Caedes had used what bodies were unfit to serve in the undead legions as bricks and building blocks for the keeps and castles of his new regime. Limbs squirmed. Wide eyes stared out from the binding stone of the walls, and flesh oozed. Hands reached from the black stone as if to touch him, either out of excitement or perhaps out of a need for reassurance. Bloodmoon turned his huge head, casually ripped a grasping forearm from the wall, and devoured it bone and all. Seeing his sibling feast, Soulstorm eyed the wall of corpses to see if another tidbit might be forthcoming. Alas, hands and arms retreated into the wall, eyes stared out in semi-sentient, barely alive fear. Caedes smiled at his pets.

Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des, Ca-e-des.

The time had come. Without another word, he conjured the Force and with it threw open the doors to stride forward onto the high balcony overlooking the assembly hall. The cheer that greeted him from below sent flakes of skin into the air, shaking the walls of Korriban like one of the world’s frequent earthquakes. He looked down on the horde. Rows of undead looked up at him with their milky eyes. Plates of crude armor and fine, white silk draped their emaciated flesh. The larger Jen’koshu moved among them as if floating, broken toes dragging against the sands of Korribani desert, calling for quiet in the Force. Huge swords hung from their ghostly, black robed backs.

Caedes raised his hands and the multitude fell silent. Only the howl of the wind outside disturbed the moment. In its shriek, Caedes heard the echo of the Dark Side of the Force. He reveled in it, understanding that the strength of its call indicated his preeminent victory.

He used the power of the Force to amplify his voice. When he spoke, his softly uttered words sounded as loud and clear in the minds of his troops as if he had stood beside them.
“There are worlds to consume, and we are hungry for it. The feeble light of the Jedi grows dim over Dagobah, their precious Temple defended only by your food and the withering Masters of their Order. Quench your thirst on their blood and stuff your bellies with their fetid flesh, my children.” A ripple ran through the lines and Caedes shivered in their ecstasy.

“System by system, the whole of the galaxy shall feed us and shall become our prey. Gather your finest, Dreadlords, your most famished, for the time has come to feast.” A roar answered him and he nodded. The Lightblood horde was ready, and the Rimward Trade League would scream as it died.
"Elmindra Xitaar, First Lord of Korriban, prepare our forces to join those of Darth Empyrean's. Dreadlords, you will follow her orders as if they were my own." Caedes let his face fall to violence.
"A'Mia, Lord Seer, guide us to victory."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Coren Starchaser OPEN

Dagobah.

This planet was a graveyard. Old wrecks nearly claimed by the swamps still littered endless jungles. Major flashpoints from an almost forgotten war had claimed the lives of both Imperial stormtroopers and soldiers who marched beneath the starbird's wings in equal measure. Some of them had only been following his orders.

Master Zark stared out the Alliance gunship's viewport haunted by ghosts. Those who served. Those he could not protect. Jedi armor gleamed with new polish. Duraplast strong enough to deflect a few glancing blows from a lightsaber or absorb stray blaster fire. He used the kyber crystal within a crossguard hilt on his belt to help focus. Neither past nor future mattered now. Only the present.

Steam exhaled from beneath the transport as it touched down on landing jets. He marched down the loading ramp with grim determination flanked by an advance team of elite pathfinders. Already San Tekka could sense a presence he had not felt since...

"I'm looking for a great warrior known as Starchaser."

He emerged from the smoke and reached out to clasp Coren by the forearm in an old soldier's greeting. Zark wore a cloaked binary bracelet still pulsing with coordinates to this Outer Rim system.

"Have you seen him, old man?"

 

[Liorra]

Liorra had gone down to Dagobah to help old Master Coren Starchaser she just called him, Pappy. Pappy Starchaser was someone who could make her laugh but also taught her that sometimes the best answer to the Dark Side, was a lightsaber. She still had her training saber, so she would rely on her beskad again. Her beskar'gam fixed up, she disembarked the ramp of a Mandalorian ship. Mia Monroe not far behind her, "Miss Mia Mand'alor Ma'am, I'm going to be fine. It was just the one dar'jetii, he was big, and angry. I don't think his parents loved him, maybe that's the problem with these Sith. They all just have mommy and daddy issues, so, maybe they need therapy?"

It didn't take her too long to find Pappy Starchaser, she crossed the murky swampland. "Pappy," she called out to him, just as she slid her helmet over her head. The modulator kicked in, "I'll follow your lead," she turned and pointed at Mia, "she's just here to make sure I don't come back with bruises, concussions or anything of the sort. I told her I'd be fine." Even if escaping the clutches of a rather eager dar'jetii took a bit to do. He was after something on that planet, whatever trinket it was she hoped it made him happy. Unbeknownst to Liorra, Dagobah had been exactly where her mother, so many decades ago had arrived. She arrived there a Ren, and left a follower of the light, and for Lio - well, she was a Jedi she hoped to eradicate a few dar'jetii herself. Or at least punch of a few in the face, there wasn't much punching last time. Mostly frustrating the one because she wouldn't die properly, or something.

Just as she trailed behind Coren, another arrived and grasped Pappy Starchaser. Lio tilted her head to the side, "but aren't you an old man, too? Wait." She looked at him, leaning forward as she did, "that can't... you're not, hey... that's Zark." Lio turned around to Mia, "Mand'alor Liberator Ma'am, that's Zark. He was a big ol' Outer Rim Jedi, according to my mom." Then she looked back at him, now he was an old man like Pappy Starchaser. She wondered if he had any stories of the old glory days like he did.

Zark San Tekka ​

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Weeks Prior...


Nathan had been at a loss of what to do since the discovery of the hidden Clone Army in the Kytrand System.

Cloning was illegal in the GA. He knew the level of freakout that could occur. But the Cruel Boss had led him to that army for a reason. After an intense waking nightmare on Dagobah, He had been up all night, pacing as he watched the rows and rows of clones in their stasis chambers.

The nightmare had, for once, not been about his Wife, but about an imminent attack on Dagobah and Susevfi. Jedi would suffer and die. Like at Castle Bloodscrawl but worse.

Nathan had lived through an attack at a Jedi Temple once. A full on assault. Order 66 Style.

Why would his family store up an army? A Fett Clone Army?

"And what am I to do with this?" he asked himself in the cold, large space as he stared above and below him.

"Am I to be party to leading this army? I can barely fight alongside my fiance's army..." he grumbled as he stood watch, hands clasping cold railings.

"All I wanted was the Cult dead. Their Goddess crushed. Was that too much to ask? It's not like I wanted to fight wars...it just...sort of happened...

He gripped the rails tightly as he sensed her.

Syd Celsius floated towards him across the catwalk, stopping a fair distance from him, wearing her green and gold catsuit that eerily reflected everything around it clearly, looking more like it was painted on rather than worn.

"I saw your vision. You see the inhabitants of the Dagobah Temple getting slaughtered." Syd spoke, barely keeping herself coherent.

"What of it?"

"You're starting to wonder if that is the reason you found that Clone Army."

"I don't need you to tell me that." Nathan sneered quietly at her.

"If you're going to wake the army up, now is the time to do it. You'll have just enough time to move a large enough number of them to make a difference."

"A difference? To what? My own exposure? I show up with a Clone Army, my cover is basically blown, and not just in the Trade League. I'll never be able to explain away a clone army." Nathan snapped.

"You sense it. The Trade League is in mortal peril..." Syd insisted, fighting off jumbled memories. "They need every advantage if they are to survive."

"And if I fail anyway, all I do is expose myself. There will be witnesses. Survivors. You think they won't blab about me to affiliated temples?"

"For Force's sake, Nathan, is your precious cover more important than all of those lives that will be lost if you don't do something?" Syd snapped at him in disgust.

Nathan teleported to her with a very stern look.

"Let's get one thing straight Phyre. The only reason I even rejoined the Order to begin with was because it was easier to take the path of least resistance. See, I wasn't interested in picking a fight with the Jedi Order to get what I want. It was easier to operate in their rank and file and build up from within while avoiding the sort of stupid crap that normally gets someone like me found out. Any irregularities about me gets covered up in the fog of war or simple day to day operations. I bring that Clone Army, I might as well just outright show them Kytrand afterwards."

"Would that be so bad?" Syd asked. "Would it be so bad to do as Morris Crownwraithe would have done?"

"Morris Crownwraithe is dead. He died with his wife." Nathan replied flatly. "I'm just the poor bastard that was dumb enough to crawl out of his grave."

Syd frowned. "So you will let Susevfi burn. All to protect your secrets."

"Hey, I provide plenty of aid to the Jedi. It's not like I want them to burn. But there is no coming back from showing off a Clone Army." he protested.

Syd turned away from him.

"Laertia devoted herself to crushing the Bryn'adul. So much so, she would take no course that might sacrifice her aims of destroying them. It made her an enemy of the Jedi, but she double downed, again and again. Eventually, she won her retribution. But she was made no better for their destruction. Quite the opposite..." Syd trailed.

"If the Cult is just your Bryn'adul, than the Brain Demon shall have no need to destroy you...you will destroy yourself, long before your quest concludes." She said before floating away from the observation platform he stared at the clones from, hovering in the air.

"And if that's all you brought me for...to watch a re run of someone becoming a basket case the harder they fight...then there is no sense in maintaining my life debt to you. I'll not cut you down, Nathan, but my cooperation doesn't come free of charge..." she added, floating above him.

"Either I see some evidence, any evidence, that you are more than just the scores you want to settle, even if it means an actual risk and sacrifice on your part...or you can fight the Cult without my help."

"You are in no position to make ultimatums with me." Nathan snarled.

"On the contrary, I am..." Syd snapped back. "I don't intend to spend my entire journey blindly following your orders, being treated as an inconvenience to you. I will not allow the rise of another Darth Xiphos. If this bond is to be any use to us at all, then I will have more say in employing it, and in general decision making going forward."

"I'd rather swallow a mouthful of broken glass." Nathan replied, staring at her in pure scorn.

Syd folded her arms. "Those are my terms. Take it or leave it."

Nathan narrowed his eyes, but Syd didn't budge.

Not this time.

"I despise you." he said quietly.

Syd remained firm. "Irrelevant." she replied back just as quietly. "Show me something matters to you more than vengeance, or you can go fight your own battles. And we can settle everything between us without the haze of being forced to work together."

Nathan stared at her.

"If helping the Order costs me the ability to fight the Cult effectively..." he trailed, turning to a nearby computer and typing a few commands for the activation sequence.

"You will be held directly responsible."

Syd sighed. "What else is new?"

A podium raised at the center of what was basically an entire arena's worth of Clone Troopers in stasis below the observation deck and Nathan teleported down to it.

He had studied the mechanism for days. It appeared that you needed to sing to wake everyone up at once. Once he started singing, the station computers would start transmitting to all the others.

Nathan felt a surge of embarrassment as he put his singing voice to use as he activated the Podium.

"BLUE MOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNN...YOU SAW ME STANDING ALOOOOONNNNEE... WITHOUT A DREAM IN MY HEAARRRRRRT... WITHOUT A LOVE OF MY OWNNNNNN..."

Syd, in the meanwhile listen to a singing Nathan in total shock.

"His voice..." she whispered, utterly stunned as red lights began activating on all the Stasis Pods. "It's like an angel..."

"BLUE MOOOOOOONNNN...YOU KNEW JUST WHAT I WAS THERE FOOOORRRRR...YOU HEARD ME SAYING A PRAYER FOOORRRR...SOMEONE I REALLY COULD CARE FOR..." he continued to sing as the pods began opening.

"AND THEN THERE SUDDENLY APPEARRRRED BEFORE ME...THE ONLY ONE MY ARMS WILL EVER HOLD..." The Fett Clone Troopers sang back to him as they stirred from Stasis. "I HEARD SOMEBODY WHISPER 'PLEEEAAAASE, ADORE ME'...AND WHEN I LOOKED, THE MOON HAD TURNED TO GOOOOOOLLLLLD..."

"Fett Clone Troopers singing is a ton more terrifying than I thought it would be..." Syd trailed.

"BLUE MOOOOOOONNNN, NOW I'M NO LONGER ALONE..." Nathan and the hundreds, quickly turning to thousands of Clones waking up all at once sang in perfect unison. "WITHOUT A DREAM IN MY HEART... WITHOUT A LOVE OF MY OWWWWNNNN..."

The initial lyrics were repeated by all, and when everyone was finished singing, Nathan struggled to look stoic as the Fett Clones raised their fist in the air.

"LONG LIVE THE BLOODSCRAWLS! LONG LIVE THE BLOODSCRAWLS!! LONG LIVE THE BLOODSCRAWLS!!!" The Clone Army shouted.


What have I done? Nathan asked himself.


Present...

Wearing:

Bloodscrawl Jedi Armor

Armed With: Nathan's Lightsaber, Lance of Ession

It had taken one big long meet and greet to get the Clones oriented to their new situation. That had lasted a day. The Clones were despondent at learning he was the last Bloodscrawl however. But Nathan had promised work and work they would have.

Even they couldn't tell him his family's end goal in their creation. He felt the weight, the pressure. The complete inability to tell if waking the Clones up just to save Susevfi had been the right thing to do.

He had only managed to get 1 of the Heavy Cruisers the ship yards around Kytrand's sun had been making to Susevfi in the days before the invasion had occured. The Situation was bad... Bacta-Works had only barely been able to pass the Clones aboard those cruisers off as private security conducting field tests on the planet. He certainly hadn't been able to get them ready in the numbers he would have liked. Only 1400 Clone Defense Troopers were available for the area around and below the temple itself, most of whom were in the swamp trying to buy as much time as they could. Only 2800 Clone Offense Troopers available for everything else on Susevfi His company has barely gotten away with getting allowed to conduct military exercises in the swamps before the Sith had Struck. Defenses were desperately being set up even now in the swamp, trying to anticipate the best assault vectors if they were trying to assault and cut off the temple. And even with all this going on, Nathan still hadn't had time to explain anything to the Jedi.

He hadn't come with his normal gear, either.

Nathan, noting how extreme the circumstances were, had come here wearing an ancient Black Armor he had recovered on the Black Market, wielding a weapon even more ancient than the Armor itself. The Armor had once belonged to his family. The weapon also

The Last of The Bloodscrawls was here to try and alter the tragedy to occur just a little. He couldn't believe he was risking everything just at Syd's insistence. But without her, he would have a loose end he didn't need.

As he approached the temple in a combat shuttle he with a handful of Clone Force Commanders, the Jedi Guards, already on edge from a temple not fully under assault, tensed up, eyes widened as Nathan walked up to the front entrance from the landing pad.

"Who goes there?" one of the guards asked.

"Nathan Bloodscrawl..." Nathan answered. "I need to speak to Master Elias Edo immediately."

 

[Nej Tane]

"Why, you look like someone walked over your grave."​

Nej moved quickly- he didn't even bother to see what she, it, was doing. His HUD indicated a large heat signature, to which he assumed was an explosion. He slid on the ground, skirting past the bodies of the Sith he slew, and turned when the doors were ripped apart, and outstepped the...

Little person.

He didn't need to avoid the large explosion or do any fanciful dodging. He just needed to make sure he wasn't in front of the door she exploded.

"The Sith have midgets now?!"

Nej sounded more sad, than anything. His day couldn't get any worse. While she stood there, all stoic-like, Nej took the time to drop the magazine from his Enforcer pistol, hold it at his side, and didn't hesitate to ask questions. He didn't use his rocket boots to get away- no. No he could've. But she wanted a fight. So he held the Enforcer pistol at his side, at the hip.

And for the first time in almost a hundred years of living, he acted like a true Morellian. Nej Tane was a Gunslinger- he had been since the Republic. She was going to find out why that was bad, midget or not.

He fanned the hammer, and emptied the magazine at her. Shots from the hip were not pin-point accurate, but Nej? He could hit a person-sized target at close range. She was a little far, but eight rounds from a .48 caliber handgun were not a laughing matter. He didn't take into account she was in fact, a midget- but that shouldn't matter, since Nej always aimed for the chest anyways. People aimed for the head all the time. Nej only knew of a few important things in people's heads. And they were small targets.

But you try living fruitfully with... well, a giant hole in your chest.

Not very fun.

And especially when it was from a .48 caliber handgun, no less.

CI-6660

​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

To think, here they were.

Beginning the long march to the Core.

When he had joined the Sith campaigns, there was almost something insidious in how they expanded and conquered, to the galactic west, to the galactic east, to the galactic south. Never, to the galactic north. For there stood the Rimward Trade League, seeming to be a colossal, insurmountable mountain, the shield that kept the Core defended, that protected the Alliance from their assault.

Now, that shield had cracked.

And, the Sith poured straight through.

He had been young and stupid when he had long wondered when the Sith thrust would break through the League, take the Hydian Way and Rimma Trade Route, and begin the march to the Core, to regain for the Sith, all that they had lost. He had been temperamental, he had been impatient, and he had not valued the gathering of strength. Look at all that they had accomplished in that time, the Empire spanned from Manas to Taul, from Mustafar to Ertrax, even... the Sith homeland had been retaken, Korriban, Dromund Kaas, and the entire Stygian Caldera was once again theirs.

All while they battled each other, all as they held each other in paranoia and distrust, as the Kainites were exiled, as the Tsis'Kaar were defeated, as they bowed to a new immortal tyr- to a new immortal emperor, as attacks were launched on Celanon and Yavin.

There was much still to do, but now in this moment, as there were stirrings of darkness elsewhere in the galaxy too, it seemed, it seemed again that history was turning.

And it was turning in their favour.

Whether it was the will of the Force or not, as destiny and fate weaved together and brought them to a new cycle if it could mean the beginning of the end of the Alliance, the beginning of the end of the Jedi.

Today it would be Susvefi, tomorrow it would be Coruscant.

"If it all goes to plan," Malum mumbled beneath his breath, gazing forward, as both members of the Guard, and the Tsis'Kaar dug into the high skyscrapers which they stood, gazing down below, even more temporary fortifications being set up, along with defensive entrench works, and what small calibre batteries could be brought to the ground.

Speaking of plans, he had to marvel at this one, they had battled the League several times as they expanded into the Kathol Outback, it was a fierce thing, especially if it could be reinforced by the Alliance, even the Mori- Mandalorians, and thus this campaign would stretch out to months, even years.

That was expensive in both life and material.

So a new plan, one which engaged the fleet, but sidestepped it entirely. The Emperor had brought his First Legion here personally, breaking through the border worlds, to cut off the head of the League, all the while Kaine, led his own forces to Dagobah, to destroy a branch of the Jedi, distinct from the New Jedi Order.

Within days, the League was to be defeated, secretly, they had struck, with a mobilisation that had seemingly not been noticed by anyone.

He would not be with them during the triumph. As anti-aircraft fire was the best defence the city could muster as troopships descended, his Tsis'Kaar had struck, in minutes, multiple points of interest had been taken, as in the outskirts of the city, he and his Guard had deployed.

It would be the Emperor, it would be Darth Strosius that would take the city, it would be him, that made sure no one could interfere.

A rather boring assignment for an invasion, but, one that was necessary still.

"I hope you are not too bored, Darth Dekaltis ," He intoned, finally coming to the side of his apprentice, as he gazed out to a city in flames, a stepping stone to something far grander.

 

[Veylin Torque]

Wayward Children Privateering Company
Aboard the Dream Chaser
​

Veylin Torque closed his eyes and said a silent prayer to the Universe, His Ancestors, The Force, or anyone else who cared to hear it.

Ships had begun to jump into realspace. A lot of ships. Not enough to win the battle, but the battle was not the point of things. The point of things was to get the evacuees out.

However much it was true that the Dream Chaser could leave immediately and still get a paycheck, that wasn't something he wanted to do. Not only would such conduct be bad for their reputation, but he'd gotten into this business for more than a sack of credits. He'd legitimately wanted to put his talents to use in helping people. People who couldn't help themselves.

He'd spent a lot of time with the Hutts. He needed to balance those books before he met his maker... or whatever might lay in wait in the afterlife.

He listened to the transmissions of the arrivals, and then reached out to touch the communications control on his command console.

"This is Dream Chaser Actual. Glad to see you boys and girls rolling in for the party.

I'm transmitting our IFFs now, and will keep an open line of communication.

We're burning hypermatter as fast as we can, forming up to escort the evacuating ships.

With any luck, the Sith will be so concerned with you big old Purrgils that they'll never bother with us widdle Mynocks.

But rest assured, if they take note, we'll feed them lasers."

What else could he do but hope for the best?

Cutting the mic, he addressed his bridge officers.

"Gunners, stay lively. I've seen you shoot torpedoes out of the air. Sith Starfighters should be easy pickings by comparison."

He looked to the sensor scope, which was festooned with bloody red danger.

One minute at a time.

One shot at a time.

That's how they'd get through this.

---

(Borrowing this from Nyles Kote )

Ally Tag(s): Veylin Torque | Mig Gred | Django Parata | Aloy Vizsla | Kaia Starchaser | RTL and Allied Fleet
Enemy Tag(s): Michael Hightower | TSO Fleet

 

[Mia Monroe]

Tags: Coren Starchaser Zark San Tekka Liorra​

The presence of so many Jedi made her...uncomfortable. A sign of just how far into the darkness she had fallen, still there were hooks that kept her in place, people that stopped her from going too far. Like little Liorra . She followed the girl down the landing ramp. "Yeah, I don't care." she replied as she followed her down the landing ramp. "There are far worse things coming for this place than a single dar'jetii and you are too stupid to know when to retreat. So Lio'ika, you are stuck with me until you learn."

'Pappy' Starchaser.

Mia couldn't help but laugh.

"Su cuy'gar Coren." she said with a chuckle. "Its been a long time." She rapped her knuckles on the top of Liorra's helmet "Liorra ran afoul of a Knight of Ren on Dxun, so she's on a leash until I can trust her not to be so reckless. I am not alone, there are other Protectors that have come to join the fight. Any opportunity to punch dar'jetiise."

She fell into step with Liorra as another came to greet Coren. "Al'verde," she corrected Liorra, finally lifting her own Buy'ce her her head. "Ijaat is our Mand'alor now, Lio'ika. Now hush." She shrugged an apology. "She has no filter between her thoughts and her mouth." She extended an hand to shake. Before looking to Coren. "Where do you need us?"

 

[Mina Ee'everwest]

Outfit: XoXo | Equipment: XoXo | Tag: Osric Blackford​

There were whispers.

This area of space was threatened, perhaps constantly, by barely hidden malevolence.

She was out of place.

Mina Ee'everwest, a handmaiden from the planet of Naboo, found herself treading carefully through the murky, fog-laden paths of Dagobah, far from the grandiose halls and peaceful gardens she was accustomed to. Her mission, shrouded in secrecy, was to retrieve an artifact of unknown nature and importance for her Queen and the Court. The details were sparse, but the urgency had been clear. With auburn brown hair tied back to keep it from the clinging mists and damp, Mina pressed on, her determination fueled by a sense of duty. The artifact was tucked beneath her clothing on a chain around her neck. It remained unseen, unknown, and there she would keep it safe.

The young woman had been mistaken in her assumptions. The seclusion and mystique that had once provided something of a shield, had now attracted a dire threat. Her timing was positively dreadful. Just after retrieving the artifact, the sky proverbially started falling, and things went from bad to worse. Her contact had urged her to flee the Temple with the utmost haste but Mina couldn't help feeling as if it were the wrong thing to do. The Sith had come and their intentions were as dark as the swamp that surrounded Mina: To cut off the temple's support to the Trade League and claim the lives of those who stood in their way. Mina hated this feeling of retreat.

Of giving in so easily to what appeared to be the purest form of evil.

She could fight. She wanted to fight.

But she also knew her duty, her first, and only necessary obligation. She had pledged her life and soul to see to the needs of her Queen and the people of Naboo. The artifact that she wore looked like little more than a charm but it had significance. It was not her place to question the directives of her Lady. Merely, to bow to her wisdom and obey. She couldn't risk losing it in this chaos…

Things went from unstable to worse before she could even fully leave the Temple grounds. She knew that the Jedi were attempting to do something to stave off the encroaching invaders but Mina wasn't one of them. She knew what the Jedi stood for, knew, about the Force as her family was steeped in it but she had not the power to help in this regard. If only her elder sisters were here. If only…

Wilhelmina still felt lost without Teyla. Alora, Alora, she felt would have known exactly what to do but, in the moment, she wasn't an Ee'everwest lost an alone. She was on a mission as the handmaiden Eirtaé who would prove her resourcefulness, her drive, and her worth by seeing her duty through no matter how murky and thorny it got.

The danger was palpable and the air was already charged with the energy of the Force being wielded.

Even a non-sensitive such as herself could tell that the situation was fast reaching a boiling point. Eventually, the pressure, the powder keg would explode and she could not afford to be caught unaware when it did. Her journey through the grounds was perilous, dodging skirmishes, and the darker creatures drawn by the conflict. Her heart raced, but her resolve was firm. She had to get back through the village. They were evacuating…Would it be in time?

Mina wanted to help so badly…But…

She had to get to her ship. She had to survive.

Sith soldiers that had arrived with the strike team, however, had other ideas. Red light flew by her head and she ducked down behind a small stone edifice to avoid it. Her back pressed against the cold rock while pieces of it were chucked off or obliterated. They weren't necessarily aiming at her but anything and anyone in the vicinity that seemed like they might stop them from their goal. Mina felt her muscles tense while her hand tightened around a standard-issue blaster.

She had to get home, rather, Eirtaé had to get home.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Concerned that what could go wrong, would go wrong, Coren was taking steps this go around, in this war, to not rush into the fray. He had been there, life had changed. Many lives had changed. Today? Today he was here to protect. To push the Sith back, and to remind them what happens when the Jedi truly come calling.

This world had seen its fair share of troubles over the past decades. It was an old war site, just like he was. Looking to his left, one of the students of Kattada, very young during the Sullust campaign, moved ahead, directing the Underground and Irregulars. The same types of men who had followed him in the past. Some may even be the sons of those who remained in the swamp.

Feeling the hand on his arm, Coren turned, light phrik armor under Jedi robes. The Corellian couldn’t help but let the reunion give him a smile. “The years have left their mark on the both of us, old friend.” The lightsaber, an updated hilt of the old telescopic pike he had, held the same kyber crystal it always had, the one known as Starchaser’s Light.

A prime focus for the events of today.

“Its good to see you, Zark. We’re going to need all the help we can muster today.”

As if on cue, others started arriving, including Lio, his former padawan’s child. And her apparently guard dog in Mia Monroe. “Just make sure you stick out of trouble Lio. Going to need you to help move villagers. And probably call out Sith movements--"

He interrupted with the appearance of a face he knew, but ha not seen for many a year.

Coren could not stress the amount he did not speak Mandalorian. But all the same when Mia approached behind Liorra, the Jedi rolled his eyes about the child. “We are glad for the help. Jedi have been called to the Temple. Need to do…” he took a moment to consider the full explanation. And opted to not bog down his greeting to the Mando Squad with Force related issues.

“Can use some good eyes to call out Sith movements and slow them down. I’m got to meet with Master Raffinki, but I know we’re here to do Temple defense.” Always on the back foot, but the world would not fall to the Sith, not while he stood.

Zark San Tekka Liorra Mia Monroe Pyeth Raffinki
Taeli Raaf

 

[Osric Blackford]

Mina Ee'everwest

Wrong place, wrong time.

Dagobah was supposed to be just a recon mission to confirm rumors of an impeding incursion... from someone. The Sith was always a contender to be a threat, but they had been on the outskirts for that long without doing anything. So nobody wanted to cause a panic by immediately assuming the worst of their evil neighbor.

Hilarious, no?

Osric had commanded his squad to check out the eastern quadrant while he took the western quadrant. Once upon a time it would have been suicide to go alone. When he was an Antarian Ranger and just as force sensitive as a regular brick was. That was years ago though. One mission gone wrong ripped open his connections to the Living Force... and allowed him to serve in a larger capacity.

He felt the attack before it happened. His head turning towards the sudden outburst in the distance. Osric knew better than to challenge the assumption. It was always better to run towards the presumed danger and discover nothing was wrong... than to ignore the feeling. And to discover later that everything had turned to shite because of the skepticism.

Through the treelines the boulder-shaped man broke into the devolved scene. Red blaster fire deflected by his amber saber as Osric jumped over Mina's protected position behind the stone edifice.

"Not today, Sith." Osric bellowed at the soldiers, surprising them perhaps, as he took up position between them and the strangers behind him. "You will not take these ones."

A little bit dramatic perhaps.

But Osric Blackford had truly taken to the rule of Jedi Guardian. Some say taken too it a bit too much really.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

"Stay behind me and provide covering fire," Valery said calmly, as she stood like a barrier between the soldiers of the RTL and the Sith aggressors. Several enemy shuttles had brought down death and destruction, but with a coordinated counter-attack, she had already made some progress. Between anti-air fire taking down troop transports and some landing in the wrong area because of all the chaos, Valery had been able to thin the numbers somewhat.

But so many more remained.

She wondered how it would affect the planet and its Temple. Her dear friend Elias Edo had given her a tour of it only a few years ago, and now their worst nightmare was a reality. Sith were advancing on the Temple, looking to destroy what the Jedi had built, and fighting to kill or capture its defenders. But the Jedi had one strength the Sith lacked — their unity. Jedi from the New Jedi Order had traveled to RTL space to lend a hand as well, and Valery was among them.

Together, they could hold back the Sith onslaught.

"I want you all to proceed to the Spaceport. Set up defenses and work with the Jedi there to keep it secured," Valery requested. She had no authority to make them do anything, but she doubted any of them would object.

"I'm going to delay them."

Darth Strosius Quintessa ​