Invasion Double Tap | TSC Invasion of COV-held Abregado-rae

[Kjartan Hammer-Hand]

+++HAMMER-HAND PAGE CLAIM+++​

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TAG: Romul Saxon | Careena Fett | Zavar Kelborn | Vrirrig Awaud | Korar Murrak | Braze | He-Who-Walks-Between | Tytos Saxon | Gel Karn | Feydrik Munin | Yuri Maji | Vreegan Fett | Quinn Varanin | Arris Windrun​

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KJARTAN HAMMER-HAND​

THEME​

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:: Hammer-hand… Darasuum Kote. :: He spoke, the joy and relief in his voice clear as day.

A smirk lined Kjartan’s features at the Devil Dog’s message. The two warriors had developed a form of kinship, where often their words were friendly jabs as only brothers in arms could accept as little more than words of comradery. Yet the Warlord could not spare a reply.

However, they arrived amidst a veritable minefield of Netheric Rifts. Great hazards in space. Some Mandalorian ships would’ve exited dangerously close to them, possibly destroyed or swallowed on impact. Others would likely be forced to deviate in a snap decision, ending up on collision courses with elements of their own fleet. And the Field of Blades continued to pull on the minds of all those near them. Invoking violence and bloodlust, beckoning crews and commanders to charge into the abyss.

Indeed, a veritable minefield was an understatement. These rifts to the netherworld tore through the fabric of reality, chaos incarnate in every sense of the word. Several ships disappeared entirely as they met their unfortunate end - plunging headlong into the rift to an unknown (yet likely tragic) end. Still others sustained light collision damage due to last minute corrections as they emerged from lightspeed, yet soon enough - the fleet would correct itself. The unified computer systems of the ships within the fleet synchronized as they calculated a safe route through the field, allowing the fleet to press on.

“We will push the Kestran fleet to the brink. We will crush their spirits.”

She opened her comms to the rest of the ship.

“This is Kesyk. Scramble all fighters. All gunners to their stations. We do not rest until the last Mandalorian gun falls silent!”

An angry swarm of fighters began coiling amidst the three battlegroups, before surging through the void to engage within the moshpit of a battle already taking place in orbit over the planet - scores of daggers driving themselves deep into the enemy formation. A vigor filled the actions of each pilot, each weapons tech, each warrior within the fleet as they pressed their advantage.

As the Mythos Fleet advanced, their fighters made far easier work navigating the pockmarked battlespace to do their job - intercepting and screening against the enemy fighters. A massive dogfight erupted, hampering the Sith Covenant’s objective to target the fleeing ships with their fighter complement. Meanwhile, the fleet’s bomber wings launched - primarily comprised of Mangonel Basilisk War Droids, escorted by their Howler variants.

---

"Command, Fett. The drop site is the source of the plague. They're feeding live captives into the biomass to expand it. Mark this grid for orbital bombardment the moment ground forces pull back." He adjusted the thrusters on his jetpack, descending through the thick Cloud layer. The reek of dark Alchemy and burning flesh grew stronger but his helmet filters kept the worst of it out. As his eyes moved further into the Mist he unslung his Commando rifle from his back adjusting the mechanism into sniping mode.

<<<COORDINATES RECEIVED>>>

<<<AIRBORNE STRIKE INBOUND>>>

<<<ETA - 3 MINUTES>>>

The intelligent, semi-autonomous brains of the Basilisks began plotting their attack run against the pyres, yet with a different purpose in mind. Normally, their orders would be to unleash as much devastation as possible upon the ground target. In this case, with their ordnance launchers kitted with carbonite missiles to stem the spread of the plague.

Soon enough, the cavalry would arrive.

---

“Alor, the enemy flagship is readying for orbital bombardment upon the city.”

“Concentrate all firepower on that super star destroyer!” Kjartan barked. “Engage our ECM packages to baffle their targeting systems.”

While the Tyranny was undoubtedly a formidable vessel of massive proportions, any ship would be hard pressed to resist the combined firepower of an entire fleet - as well as the myriad of countermeasure suites contained within its vessels. Even still, it would likely not be a full-proof solution. They began to close the distance, with Kjartan having to make a decision one way or the other.

After a moment’s pause, he finally said: “Prepare for close action.”
With the exception of the carriers and specialized long range vessels, the Mythos Fleet pushed forward - intent on engaging the Sith Fleet up close and personal.

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• The Mythos Fleet navigates through the nether-rift field, sustaining the loss of several ships and light damage to ships attempting to avoid the portals
• The fighter screen previously launched has intercepted the Sith Covenant fighters, resulting in a massive dogfight between the two fighter forces
• Basilisk droids have been launched to begin their attack run against the pyres
• The Mythos Fleet moves forward to engage the Sith fleet in close quarters.

Spoiler: Battlegroup Stormshield - Center

• Battlecruisers
  • Dral'han-class Battlecruisers
  ​
• Star Destroyers
  • Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyers
  • Rish'ak Star Destroyers
  • M.I Verminoth-class Star Destroyers
  • Dalab-class Strike Carriers
  ​
• Cruisers
  • Brok'ur-class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • Gratiir-Class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • M.I. Rancor-class Cruisers
  • Ka'yatr-class Suppressive Cruisers
  ​
• Frigates
  • Aranar-Class Escort Frigates
  • Cabur-Class Escort Frigates
  • M.I. Acklay-class Frigates
  ​
• Corvettes
  • Ram'or Corvettes
  • Jurkad-Class Attack Corvettes
  • Ramikad-class Ramming Corvettes

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Spoiler: Battlegroup Rancor - Right

• Battlecruisers
  • Dral'han-class Battlecruisers
  ​
• Star Destroyers
  • Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyers
  • Rish'ak Star Destroyers
  • M.I Verminoth-class Star Destroyers
  • Dalab-class Strike Carriers
  ​
• Cruisers
  • Brok'ur-class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • Gratiir-Class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • M.I. Rancor-class Cruisers
  • Ka'yatr-class Suppressive Cruisers
  ​
• Frigates
  • Aranar-Class Escort Frigates
  • Cabur-Class Escort Frigates
  • M.I. Acklay-class Frigates
  ​
• Corvettes
  • Ram'or Corvettes
  • Jurkad-Class Attack Corvettes
  • Ramikad-class Ramming Corvettes

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Spoiler: Battlegroup Vengeance - Left

• Battlecruisers
  • Dral'han-class Battlecruisers
  ​
• Star Destroyers
  • Ha'rangir-class Star Destroyers
  • Rish'ak Star Destroyers
  • M.I Verminoth-class Star Destroyers
  • Dalab-class Strike Carriers
  ​
• Cruisers
  • Brok'ur-class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • Gratiir-Class Heavy Assault Cruisers
  • M.I. Rancor-class Cruisers
  • Ka'yatr-class Suppressive Cruisers
  ​
• Frigates
  • Aranar-Class Escort Frigates
  • Cabur-Class Escort Frigates
  • M.I. Acklay-class Frigates
  ​
• Corvettes
  • Ram'or Corvettes
  • Jurkad-Class Attack Corvettes
  • Ramikad-class Ramming Corvettes

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[Lina Ovmar]

Tags: Cruelty Meliant Ceria Kesyk

He-Who-Walks-Between

@Madrona A'Mia Darth Strosius

The Field of Blades was a diabolical place and one she typically avoided, but her network of pathways would not have been complete without a marker here. As much as she wished to avoid the searing heat and endless war, there was often a need to come here. When one was hunting for those lost in a battle, it was the only place to start.

Wings of shadow carried her, rippling like smoke in the wind as she came to a stop, scanning the endless war beneath her. As always she was not alone, hulking beasts of shadow moved beneath her, taking idle swipes at spirits who came too close to their mistress. Lina either did not notice, or did not care, her obsidian gaze was searching for those who bore the Wonosan sigil, those who had been loyal to her Sosûtudas.

Stretching out his mind, He Who Walks Between could feel them now.

A host of the dead.

A host of the damned.

A host of the Manda.

And now they marshalled upon the edges of the Field and poured forth, unleashing retribution against a hundred years of suffering at Sith hands, beneath the Sith yoke, tortured and enslaved and nearly eradicated.

The disturbance that drew her attention started as a whisper, rippling across the field drawing the attention of mandalorians long lost in battle. They abandoned their fights, turning their back on endless foes and moved to the Fields edge. Curiosity drew her, drifting above it all, she followed them.

But they were not the only ones gathering, the sith they had turned away from were drawn elsewhere, following the call of another. Someone who reeked of a certain Sith Empress. A series of chattering clicks echoed in her ear and she turned her head as a Morvyn settled on her shoulder, its mouth split in a wide grin showing thousands of needlelike teeth. She reached a hand up absently to stroke it.

"You sense it too, hmmm?" she purred. "Death and decay…" it clambered across her shoulders and across her other arm, slender like fingers wrapping around the staff as it chattered excitedly.

"Well then my little friend, go and feast, that is your right. This is not a battle I have any interest in." She turned away, resolute to continue her search for a few more hours before the plane of the living demanded she return, lest her soul be completely rendered from her body.

A series of blinding fractals wracked A'Mia's mind's eye as her senses overlapped with each and every being on the planet's surface touched by death. As Mandalorian enemies approached the heart of her ritual they were greeted by a scream, the neti bent double writhing against madness inducing connectivity. Those provided her boon were passed over by the keening Force scream but all else was battered by the prolonged, agonized noise.

A'Mia.

Lina snapped back around with an angry snarl, moving without thought. Her search was forgotten, the only thing that mattered now, was that those she deemed precious were in danger. She sought an anchor, finding a familiar soul touched by the nether on the other side of the rift and pulled herself towards it.

And of course it would be her.

An echo shimmered beside Mercy, something dark and twisted, a spectral shadow for the eyes of Empress of the Core only.

<< "What a delightful mess you have gotten yourself into.">>

Obsidian eyes flicked over the mandalorian coming her way with an almost bored expression.

<< "There is a woman beyond the veil, she has your scent though less…idiotic. She is on her way and the spirits move with her. If you want my assistance-">>

The network snapped against her mind, drawing a small smile before she vanished traversing along it. Death and despair echoed along each thread, fear twisting the hearts of those that had followed Mercy into battle, hopelessness lingered at the edges, looming like a dark shadow that threatened to engulf them.

But Lina felt none of it, she had survived more pressure on her mind than this. She sought the Nether rift and those who played with forces beyond their comprehension.

The Mistress of Shadows simply stepped from behind Cruelty, an ice cold hand marred with blackened veins settled gently on his shattered shoulder, wings of shadow twisting into pointed dark tendrils poised like stingers waiting to strike.Her gaze settled on the Graspborn dying in his gentle embrace. Wraithspire struck the floor of the bridge with a deep echoing thunk.

"My dear child, what have they done to you?"

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: On the ground | Objective: Feel it all

Direct Allies: Srina Talon

Other Allied Forces: Xan Atropus | Veyla Tass | Kaelyr | Leontis Antalis | Astra Sadow | Grace | Pax Velloran

Sith Enemies: Carduul Akahl | The Arkanian​

.

Pain was a familiar presence to Mercy.

A friend, an ally, family.

But now Mercy was learning that some pain you couldn't embrace and smile through. It was simply too much. Her mind, a constant storm, had immersed itself into the web grown by Lily Rhodes and through it saw everything. She had shared it with Srina Talon too. Sisters, they called each other. Of battle, of shed blood even if not shared blood. But their temperaments were so different from one another. Where Srina was frost, Mercy was heat.

Where Srina cared about their children and wished to see them safe, Mercy cared about forging them into Lords, no matter the cost. Even if some of them died in the process.

Their children - Mercy frowned inwardly at that thought. When did it become that? When did the beast within begin to see Sith as its children? Mercy didn't like it, she loathed it, but no matter how much she snarled against it, the concept couldn't leave her. It had formed after forging a bond with Lysander von Ascania , it had strengthened after finding so much potential in Varin Mortifer , it had burned into her flesh after seeing Naniti rage in the skies of Jakku in despair of losing her surrogate son.

And now she felt all of them die, suffer, hurt and fear, over and over again, while Carduul's words reached her only in fragments. It became agony. Not in the flesh, but in the storm that was her mind.

What terrible arms had she walked from the Jedi into?

Their resolve shook and the path ahead was a dark forest.

A sudden wave of unexplainable dread filled her awareness, pressing against her chest like the weight of a coming storm.

Their nerves filled with fear, frost and storm pumping through their veins.

Something in the acolyte's chest splintered when the Mandalorian collided with her.

Cornered, hurt, facing murder wrapped in flesh.

Her arm protested from the earlier damage, but the pain was buried beneath the weight of an entire battlefield crashing down. Suffocating her.

They were drowning in fury, hurting themselves to break through it.

As Mandalorian enemies approached the heart of her ritual they were greeted by a scream, the neti bent double writhing against madness inducing connectivity.

The madness overtook them, pain became their mind.

Twice more the blows came, but Calyx didn't flinch. Didn't look away. He could taste the acrid tang of blood welling up in his mouth as her admission landed.

The door to the Light was closing.

And Lily would feel it across the telepathic link, as would Mercy, as would Quinn. As would anyone else: Arris Windrun’s sadness, confusion, and hopelessness give way to rushing anger. She gritted her teeth, wanting nothing more than to scream, throw her hands, give up. But then her expression softened.

“You’re right.”

Bang.

They gave in to despair and allowed Hatred in.

Mercy would feel it too - a monster trying to crawl through, and rip them asunder, without care or concern for familial bonds or the threads that bound allies together. Buried beneath, however, was Revna’s presence - fighting with everything she had within her to keep control of the Hunger that sought to overcome her will with its own.

They fought for their sanity as inner demons attempted to take hold.

Quinn twisted once, then withdrew the spear before the body could collapse around it.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

They were forced into acts their hearts could not accept.

<< “Help. Me”>>

They were surrounded... and yet they were alone.

Kesyk was so enamored by the opportunity that even when a Mandalorian bolt struck her side, she did little more than stumble and laugh, holding her side as her eyes couldn’t peel away from the screen.

Their zeal could not shield them from these despicable horrors.

I also sent a call for support within the mental link between us all, hoping that it would be received through the noise. Though I doubted it would be heeded, as I was still an unknown figure within the Covenant

They thought themselves unimportant, abandoned.

And then-

In the declaration, he had launched forwards back to that tempest of motion. The poleaxe's spiked end whirled directly towards the head- in a motion that took less than a blink of an eye, for it had seemingly been entirely behind his back but a moment before. A blow that, for most normal individuals, would’ve cloven it clean off their shoulders. Armor would no doubt prevent such- but the devastation that could have been felt in spite would be noticeable.

Had it hit, it could’ve been a devastating blow- perhaps capable of even sending the goliath of a Sith flying, incidentally freeing her legs from their entrapped confines with crackles and breaks in texture.

Mercy raised her head up as much as she could at the storm coming for her. A man wrapped in the metal of his ancestors, his mind ablaze with the same understandings that she possessed, but coming towards a different conclusion. An understandable one... because what were they all, if not bad copies who were simply searching for meaning in a sea of dirt and chaos?

"I understand..." The voice growled up defiantly - and then the blow came with all of his fury. The collision was breathtaking. Mercy watched through her own eyes and again from above through Lily's web, and she could not help but see the glory in it. A perfect strike. One that smashed the statue that had formed around Mercy into pieces, throwing her far, as her massive frame crunched into the wall of the Spaceport.

Her head rang.

Her mind reeled.

"I understand..." She saw double, triple, as Carduul traversed the vast distance between them. She coughed up blood and Warform feasted on it, hungry for her pain, for the ghosts in her head.

She rose slowly and everything was spinning.

An echo shimmered beside Mercy, something dark and twisted, a spectral shadow for the eyes of Empress of the Core only.

<< "What a delightful mess you have gotten yourself into.">>

Her head tilted slightly, but her eyes never left Carduul.

“You know me…” Mercy muttered through the blood and saliva. “If I don’t find the fun, the fun finds me.” She coughed, blood splattering across the inner visor. It clouded the approaching Carduul until the carapace absorbed it again.

Like an organic version of car wipers.

<< "There is a woman beyond the veil, she has your scent though less…idiotic. She is on her way and the spirits move with her. If you want my assistance-">>

Brows furrowed as Mercy listened to that while she forced herself up. Now she was wondering if Lina was a hallucination.

“Take what you need and get, I have my own battle to win.” The Force returned to her and she hissed, bones shifting and fortifying themselves. She still felt woozy, head stuffed with cotton balls.

But she burst that conversation towards Srina Talon .

Don’t know what it means, ‘Her scent but less idiotic’, what the fuck did that mean? But be ready for anything.

Maybe her sestra could make sense of it, if she hadn’t fallen on her head again.

“So go on, Sith! If you wish to end the path of all who you dare lay eyes upon, know that I, Carduul Akahl, shall stand in your path unto eternity!”

A wild grin carved through her face.

“Stand then, because I never back down from a fight.” She burst forward. The intensity of it was so great that it made the steel of the Spaceport wall buckle behind her. They met halfway, the clash titanic, just their meeting would cause a rupture in the air. Parts of her hurt more, parts of her less. Her mind leaked further into the network.

It spoke to all that came before.

It said:

All of you who hear me, you are true Lords. In our darkest hour, you still stand. They wish to break you, but we are their destruction made flesh. Stand, move, fight. Do not go quietly into the night, scream your fury and be Sith.

.

ERASE THE PAST

 

[Canm-Bulnu Bi]

He kept quiet as he moved beneath a rusted scaffolding frame and a mess of exposed pipes, hoping to avoid the Mandalorian patrols long enough to meet up with the other Sith in the area. He had barely made it a few steps when the grating above him began to rattle. A muffled voice came through a helmet comm, followed by the sudden whine of a descending jetpack.

Three Warriors dropped from the upper rafters and landed in front of him, followed by two more that came closely behind. Canm understood that his lightsaber would not be able to cut clean through their armor, so he would have to aim for the gaps near the joints.

"You're a long way from home, Sith," the lead warrior growled, raising a wrist blaster. "And missing a piece."

"It takes more than a lost limb to save you," Canm replied beneath the mask. The Mandalorians opened fire. Canm brought his blade up, deflecting the bolts with small movements. One shot found a gap in a warrior's thigh armor, but the others used their jetpacks to stay out of reach.

Unable to chase them down, Canm reached out with his free hand and tore a heavy iron cog from an assembly line. He hurled it at one of the hovering warriors, knocking him into a support beam. The others kept coming as one attacker swung a wrist blade, forcing Canm to step inside the strike and shove him aside.

He followed with a heavy kick from his good leg, sending another warrior stumbling back. Pain shot through his hip, but he ignored it and kept his lightsaber moving as the Mandalorians closed in around him. He was starting to lose ground when a whistle cut through the noise above.

Canm barely had time to look up before a cryoban bomb dropped into the center of the bay. It detonated in a flash, freezing everything around it. The shockwave hit before anyone could react, covering Canm and the Mandalorians in ice and stopping them where they stood.

For a moment, the factory was silent as the frozen figures cracked and broke apart, scattering across the floor in pieces. The once Mighty Sith Lord was dead but so were his Mandalorian enemies, and that brought him some semblance of peace as his spirit departed into the Netherworld.

End Post​

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[Astra Sadow]

Pax Velloran
"Tsk. Come on."

A man stood looking up at and feeling at the controls. Their head rolled a bit to the side with their partner's annoyance. "What can I say? It's locked."

The brown haired partner on his feet sighed. "I can see that. Unlock it already."

"Look, do you want--" he turned around and stopped talking. A few steps took him away from the ship before he stopped.

"What?"

Their blue eyes narrowed. "Not sure. Thought I saw movement in the walkway up there."

His partner joined him in surveying the view ports. Had someone been there? "A single person? More like a shadow playing tricks." The rifle in their hands shifted as the brown haired man sought to loosen up in case things got kinetic.

Romul Saxon Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Leontis Antalis Ceria Kesyk
The ion cannon Astra had 'delivered' to the spaceport couldn't cover the entire planet. It couldn't stop the Mandalorian's efforts to save something from the planet if they lifted off from another facility far away. Simple matters of line of sight. Besides, such emplacements weren't intended for three hundred and sixty degree coverage. That being true, the closer a ship got to orbit the sooner they drifted into the firing arc of such a weapon.

Oh, but Astra, there are civilians. Civilians! Innocent men, women, and children desperate to escape the horrors visited on their world. Refugees that have lost everything because of your customers' nefarious acts. How vile. How monstrous of you to support them! Let them go and find something to call their own again, or perhaps one day return to their rightful homes.

Aw, that was true, wasn't it? They really were suffering so much. Friends and family dead. Melted into goo. Host to a plague that wanted to consume them all. Now forced into the loving, metal embrace of blaster-nuts and helmet-heads. But, then, was it cruel to disable their ship and watch as it fell right out of the sky? Its passengers no doubt screaming at the tops of their lungs for the few seconds it took until nothingness claimed them? Or was it crueler to live? All that suffering. All that loss. All that talk of the Manda -- ancient eldritch Astra couldn't stand it.

Well, Astra put certain employees in certain places for a reason. The chief one being they wouldn't question her orders no matter how monstrous they were and they were competent at their job. Difficult criteria to meet and not something just anyone was a fit for, but she was a patient woman. It was easier than all you had was a single, capital-ship-sized ion cannon too.

Whether Leontis would appreciate it taking shots at fleeing transports supposedly carrying civilians perhaps Astra would find out. Perhaps he wasn't aware or had more important things on his mind -- like securing the spaceport.

Then there were the turns above. Astra didn't need to mind everything personally. She was, after all, a plain, simple businesswoman. One that had hired very capable, military-minded people and tasked them with supporting her customers. People that noticed the Tyranny taking on an increase amount of fire from the appearance of a hostile fleet. Difficult choice whether to lend aid or play dead. Difficult except they weren't there on vacation. So, the cannon shifted targets, locked on, and started flinging skyscraper-sized ion bolts at the ships ganging up on the flagship above even as it turned its attention toward those oh-so-precious refugees.

Leontis Antalis
Out front, Astra had taken up position between what was hers and the Mandalorians. She knew the 'General' had lingered, and at that point she wouldn't refuse his support. It was a large area for one woman to cover, and all it would take was a single shell, bomb, or rocket to completely obliterate their research. Whether he was as good as his vanity asserted remain to be seen, but he'd get his chance.

Astra stood with the broadsaber held out to the side. The lone 'Sith Warrior' with a neon sign glowing in full view of the approaching Mandalorian strike team. It was, in truth, the worst place for someone to stand. Was Leontis aware of that, or did he just have that much faith in whatever equipment he wore and the four zealots that prowled about his vicinity? An appropriate amount of arrogance in Astra's opinion. She thought well of the man for being so fearless.

"No transmissions. No time to organize who passes what to whom." Astra's golden rings slid to the side to regard Leontis for a moment. "But good thinking." Even though she didn't have time to take his advice, she agreed it was a solid tactic. "If they get by us, all is lost. So, there's only one thing to do."

A slight nod followed when Leontis announced the Mandalorians had arrived. "Quite right. A hostess should greet her guests." Astra set her free hand on his shoulder just a second before she shot away and toward the approaching enemy. She wouldn't tell him to stay there, but to follow would certain risk life and limb. They could support from afar. She, however, had business with a lightsaber.

Her feet blurred as she raced across the intervening distance. Toward the tanks and the armored vehicles. Mounted blasters pivoted toward her and opened fire without a single warning. Astra grinned as she darted from side to side with every step. Their gunners were forced to swing back and forth peppering the ground with bolts in an effort to catch the woman that defied Natural Law. That broadsaber in her hand would be a lethal threat up close and the Mandalorians knew it.

If their target wouldn't hold still then they just had to use a bigger gun. Or, in this case, larger ordinance.

Revna Marr 's Horror Within screeched into the void between those linked. It wanted to claw and tear and consume. Heedless of battle and survival, it terrorized them all and it seemed Astra's movements stopped for a split second. The heavy repeating blaster managed to pin her down for just a moment, which was all the time they needed to line up a shot with a shoulder-mounted missile launcher. A plume of dust rose into the air, a storm of shattered duracrete, and the thunder of an explosion echoed throughout the spaceport.

No one moved -- except to respond to any action taken by Leontis'. Sith -- at that point anyone with a red saber met the criteria -- were creatures of deception; it was foolish to enter that cloud thinking she'd been utterly destroyed from the blast. Reasonable to assume it, but not for one of their ilk. Much as one didn't assume a Mandalorian that fell from a single blaster bolt was dead; at least anyone that wanted to live. It would take thirty-seconds for the dust to settle. They could wait. Fingers on the trigger. They could wait and then...

Unwatched, unseen, back in the middle of the makeshift research camp, a wall stood with a blood-soaked circle and an incomplete alchemical array. A small pot of blood sat on the ground before it awaiting its artist. A pot whose liquid contents were bound to spoil in haste exposed to the elements on a world enveloped in fungus left unattended. A ripple pierced the tension in that pool. A scratching sound rose from the wall. A blood-soaked symbol soon continued the work of the absent artist. He-Who-Walks-Between

Glareshades | Clothing | Jacket | Vest | Tie | Gauntlets | Belt | Boots | Broadsaber
Holdout Blaster | CommLink | Dagger | A'Mia Circlet | Alchemical Ingredients​

 

[The Arkanian]

GODKILLER?​

THE ARKANIAN
TAG: Carduul Akahl Mercy Srina Talon
GEAR:
Mandalorian Armor + Modular Wrist Attachments (Flamethrower, Whipcord, Dart Launcher, Wrist Rocket), Jetpack (with big missile), Stouker concussion rifle + 3 power cells, Holdout Disruptor Pistol (boot), Dissuader Pistol + 2 mags (hip), Crushgaunts, Hifold Sensory Package, Cortosis Dagger (chest), 'Nades, More 'Nades, Even More 'Nades (bandolier), Raw Cortosis Dust in a Lil' Baggie (belt), 2 vials of Trihexalon (belt), aerosol canister of Droid bio-assault spray (belt), Voidstone good luck rock on a necklace.

Unit: Haran's Hounds

Named NPC Companions:
Spike and Dozer (Sukkot Force Hounds)

This high up, the air was cold. But there was something colder rolling in. An unnatural storm front gathered overhead.

Flurries of snow drifted down through the air, slow at first but growing in volume and force thanks to @Tytos Saxon’s manipulation of the weather.

The single sentence was delivered with surprising calm before she kicked away from him, still bound by that tether.

Her fist drew back again…This time she drove it toward his breastplate, viciously targeting the same place the Vora had already struck. Her arm protested from the earlier damage, but the pain was buried beneath the weight of an entire battlefield crashing down. Suffocating her.

The punch caught him square on and maybe it was her Echani training or her Force assisted strength, or both at once, but the Arkanian felt a crunching in his ribcage as greenstick fractures and strained bone snapped even through the beskar of his armor and the padded bodysuit beneath.

He let out a surprised coughing bark inside his helmet. Hadn’t expected her to hit that hard.

She kicked away from him, still tethered, and he watched her take a moment to comprehend the absolute cataclysm she and her lackeys had brought to this planet.

“That’s right. Take it in. You and your freaks are turning this place into a total shit heap.”

Choking on his own spit, Haran called out across the howling wind, yanking on his whipcord and activating it to reel her into him like a fish on a line.

While he spoke, he acted. The two happening at once.

Look at her. Face already healed from fire. Hand probably already healed again that the punch didn’t even bother her.

“That’s what you Sith do. So why don’t you just do the galaxy a favor, huh?”

He tasted copper on his tongue. That couldn’t be good.

With the hand attached to the whipcord he sought to wrap around her back and crush her to him, the crushgaunt servos whining. Right in close.

Dragging his cortosis vibrodagger from its sheath he aimed to ram it into the gap in her armor under her left armpit. And to twist so it would tear good and proper. Ripping the artery there.

Against anyone else a mortal blow. Against her? It would maybe weaken her Force reserves as she tried to heal it if it landed.

So the Arkanian kept trying to stab. Over and over.

Shouting like a maniac as he did, smiling, blood flecking the inside of his faceplate from his lips.

“Just. Karking. Die.”​

 

[Anet Raine]

Calyx Sundrift | Feydrik Munin
CC: Helix | Darth Carnifex | Varin Mortifer | Naamino Zuukamano | Naniti | Allyson Locke | Lily Rhodes | Mercy
Robes | Mask | Lightsaber​

The Sith's heart pounded inside her chest. She loved who Calyx was becoming. Watched joyously as the Dark Side consumed his eyes. She couldn't look away from them. Her back pressed against the wall as he closed the space between them, nearly pinning her to it.

Every threat elicited a quiet snicker, each one more nervous and more excited than the last. Yes, she feared for her life. Her own instinct was to push him back with the Force, draw her blade, and strike him down, but she relented for him. That these were promises for later... that he might still hurt her, even kill her at a later time? She smiled and uttered a choked laugh. Of relief. Of desire.

There was nothing more thrilling for the fledgling Inquisitor than pushing someone further down the Dark path. Guiding them towards the mantle of Sith Lord.

It was the spark she sent across the telepathic link. And her embrace of the Dark Side, of the carnage the Sith wrought on Abregado-rae, was rewarded. She felt more strength, more power, a second wind of darkness flow through her.

She slipped out as soon as she stepped back, patting her robes down. Some red, flaky plague bits scattered like dust onto the floor.

A series of blinding fractals wracked A'Mia's mind's eye as her senses overlapped with with each and every being on the planet's surface touched by death. As Mandalorian enemies approached the heart of her ritual they were greeted by a scream, the neti bent double writhing against madness inducing connectivity. Those provided her boon were passed over by the keening Force scream but all else was battered by the prolonged, agonized noise.

Anet felt the scream pass through her like a ghost. Her head snapped in its path, as if she could see a tidal wave cleanse the city.

Sith Forces used it as an inflection point. They began their counter-offensive.

Broad iron-banded shields clanked together to form a wide shield wall across the breadth of a factory corridor, notched gaps in the shields bearing forth mounted slugthrowers that shredded anything and everything unfortunate enough to be caught in their line of fire.

The Dark Father's graug soldiers were joined by the Core's own legionnaires and their support vehicles.

One by one, a swarm of Sarcophagus Droidfighters unfolded from the crawler's topside hangar and took to the sky, zipping upwards to engage the interlopers. The slow-fire crackling of small-scale phosphor cannons added to the deafening racket of the battlefield.

And TIE Hunters and Sathog bombers shrieked across the skies with them. Reinforcements from the Tyranny; delivering fire that rocked the factory district with every impact.

There were other explosions, too.

He watched, as glowing streaks of orbital cannonfire rained down through the sickly clouds. A blinding flash erupted across the horizon, and the ground trembled violently as a massive pillar of fire devoured machinery and squadrons of supercommandos and legionnaires alike. Only the molten ruin of the refinery remained amid the rain of flaming debris and toxic smoke.

Their sabotage of the refinery network, triggered by orbital fire, unleashed a chain of reactions. Deep below the ground, pipes which arried volatile chemicals erupted from below. Below the Mandalorian position. Below the streets. Calyx and Anet had generally marked every junction, knowing where the destructive blasts would be greatest. The Sith forces... mostly avoided them. After all, where else did these pipes largely congregate if not underneath the factories they fed? Factories that the Mandalorian used as makeshift fortresses.

Anet grabbed her comlink, watching Calyx as he mused about what they would do next. She decided to contact the Knight who led the Covenant's charge.

Varin Mortifer : <:"It's Raine. It's going up all around us. If you're going to capitalize - I would do it soon. Could be minutes. Could be hours. But by the end of the day... between our plans... I suspect the whole district will become a firestorm. Calyx and I are near the rally point, if you'd care to regroup.":> She declared a little too smugly, given it meant all of them were now at risk of being immolated.

She sighed, looking back at Calyx with a self-satisfied smile.

"I can think of better ways to bide our time, hm? I haven't heard from those supercommandoes in a minute... I mean, we could go find their commander, but honestly. If they seem content to hide in their hole, why should we interrupt?"

She just couldn't help herself when she watched someone fall to the Dark Side. It was far more interesting than anything war could ever bring. It was more... personal.

Playfulness aside, Anet waved him along. Electing not to grab his hand again. "We're not out of the woods yet, Calyx. Let's find some high ground."

The rattle between their feet was concerning enough. She climbed the factory stairs and exited onto the roof. The contrast hit her immediately: the orbital fire raining down, the great rift in the sky, clouds of billowing smoke and chemical fallout. Plague particles fluttering down. Some areas were coated in ice, too - 'Ah, so they figured it out?' She mused. That was unfortunate, but soon this district was about to go up in flames.

 

[Gel Karn]

GEL KARN
ABREGADO-RAE
TAG: Tytos Saxon , He-Who-Walks-Between
GEAR: Gel Karn's Bev Shield, Akalenedat, Mandalorian Lanvarok, Mandalorian Vibroboots, Mandalorian Magna-Gloves, Gel Karn's Bandolier, Mandalorian Jazerant, Mandalorian Recon Helmet, Variable Plasma Shield Gauntlet

Adventure Awaits!​

"GET DOWN!

Tytos's response was no response at all, but rather an order. Gel immediately activated his shield to its largest size, but it was too no avail, as blaster fire started coming in all around him. Gel surely would have perished on the spot if not for the quick thinking of Tytos, who somehow managed to create what Gel could only describe as a shield of blue energy all around them, not to dissimilar to the Variable Plasma Shield Gauntlet that Gel had strapped to his left forearm. The shield held for just a moment before Tytos dissapated it, sending out a violent shockwave of energy that oblitered all the Sith troopers that had been firing at them mere moments ago. Gel was in utter shock of what he wa wtinessesing, and was certainly glad that Tytos was on their side and not the Sith's!

"Stand. We are deep within the foes' territory. Ready your weapons and follow my lead. Trust in the Manda."

"If you say so", Gel replied rather unconvincingly as he stood up and brushed himself off. He had never really considered himself overly religious, a byproduct of his former clan's reverence of the Dark Side of the Force, and he was exactly sure what Tytos had in mind here today. But he would find out sooner rather than later.

Tytos began glowing...literally, glowing. Not metaphorically, or in any other sense of the word expect for literally, because Gel could see his eyes shining brightly green, and he could feel some kind of presence from Tytos. Though Tytos was clearly powerful, Gel couldn't shake the feeling that Tytos was quite vulnerable at the moment, and for Gel to see him like this meant that the mystic had quite a lot of faith in someone like Gel, somone he didn't know all that well yet respected as a Mandalorian and a brother. The only thing Gel could do was return the favor, and he would defend Tytos and his body to his dying breath if things came down to that.

Luckly, Tytos seemed to return to his senses rather rapidly.

"The Manda favors us today, Karn. Be glad."

"I see", Gel replied, not seeing what Tytos was talking about. Suddenly, an odd thought struck him: was the air getting colder? Was the temperature starting to drop? Almost as if to answer Gel's thoughts, Tytos spoke on what was happening:

"This blizzard will grow. We must make haste towards the center of the Sith's ritual."

"Right, of course, because that makes complete and total sense. Why not?", Gel quipped as he sauntered along after Tytos, determined to keep the man as safe as he could even though he wasn't entirely sure he needed someone like Gel to defend him...
​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Madrona A’Mia / Romul Saxon / Tytos Saxon / He-Who-Walks-Between / Gel Karn / Lina Ovmar
--------------------------------------------

He clicked His tongue in disappointment as the bolt of lightning was deflected, by the hammer of all things, by the brash Mandalorian. Though He found the remark afterwards far more insulting than His own failed attack. "It's pronounced 'Sith', e chu ta!" As the scarce rear line defenders began engaging and being set upon by the droids and Mandalorians which had followed in the wake of the hammer-wielder. Normally He would have leapt at the chance to involve Himself in the firefight or throw Himself at the warrior before Him but He found Himself occupied.

Occupied by a piercing headache that felt akin to His skull being split in half, a cry escaping Him as the Nether was wrenched into reality even further. His free hand clutched the side of His helmet through the hood that surrounded it, the gauntleted fingers undoubtedly leaving gashes in the thick fabric as He tried to steady Himself. For a moment His breathing became ragged as His vision swam, a strange breeze passing through Him that He rather swiftly realized was no weather at all.

Darth Strosius threw a glance at where A'Mia sat rooted behind Him and grimaced at the scream that was still formed on her normally serene features, her whole body swaying in a manner that He'd never seen from her before. He winced and coughed and felt something warm that smelled like metal dribbling down His chin afterwards, but whatever it was didn't obstruct the dark visor's view at all thankfully. The last straw was when He saw a snowflake winding through the air and landing on the ground, heralding the charge of the hammer wielder.

"What the feth is going on with this accursed planet!?"

He even thought He heard Mercy in the back of His mind before one of His legs gave out and He had to kneel to catch Himself, the whole world spinning and making His vision run wild with spots as He forced another cough down with a grunt. His teeth ached. His whole being ached. But most importantly, He was still one of the few things between A'Mia and the Mandalorians which were rapidly descending upon them. Darth Strosius clenched His fangs together and muttered a curse under His breath.

The masked Sith Lord rose to His feet, still half-bent over and clutching His head but with His lightsaber raised to meet the charging Mandalorian. His breathing was heavy as He steadied Himself, watching as His foe drew closer with each step and He shifted to a more balanced stance to intercept. Right as the Mandalorian got within range to begin swinging however, He moved. Darth Strosius leapt up and threw His open hand down, shadows swirling down His arm and leaping from His fingers in the shape of a spear as He swung His lightsaber down in tandem.

 

[Xan Atropus]

X A N . A T R O P U S

| Location | Spaceport, Abregado-Rae​

| Objective | Kill​

​

The Sith shifted as his peripheral vision caught sight of something usual. While other civilians and hostages scrambled for cover and to escape, one individual stood out as holding their position. His concentration and focus on the duracrete chunk he was intending to slam into Fenn Stag broke, the debris skittering along the ground instead towards his feet. ​

​

His body twisted with its initial momentum, the renegade driving his saber into the ground as an anchor point as he dropped to one knee, bracing for the incoming repulsor blast. He would not be thrown to the ground again. His body tensed as the blast slammed into him, his grip tightening as he held onto his saber in both hands, the blade carving into the ground as he was forced back.​

​

Xan rose to his feet as he wrenched his crimson blade from the ground, sparks scattering as he flourished to redirect his attention to the second assailant, large strides being made as they advanced towards the Shistavanen, upon her in moments as she went to go launch arcs of lightning at his ally. ​

​

Just as his attention was split before, so was hers; the renegade Sith raising his leg up to kick forward into the Mandalorian hound while she was distracted with attacking Veyla Tass . While he wasn't able to stop the attack, he was certainly intent on making sure that it did not persist for long. In that moment he was not concerned for the wellbeing of his companion or anyone else. No, he was beyond caring for anything now as the other presence in the back of his mind began to claw at his conscious. Red began to bleed into his vision, and all he could focus on was a singular directive. ​

Kill.​

​

Veyla Tass
Fenn Stag | Vara Maji

​

 

[Meliant]

MERCY'S TYRANT SQUADRON
IN ORBIT // THE BRIDGE // ABREGADO-RAE​

Attn: Cruelty Ceria Kesyk He-Who-Walks-Between Lina Ovmar

Was this Plagueis reborn? Was it Bane? Perhaps they might have killed every single living and unliving intruder on the bridge in an instant. But then again no. Such feats would surpass even what was told of them in history.

History was surpassed in short order. These things happen from time to time.​

​

Hasuras Na-Amoun's precise movements and strikes during the bloodletting would have to be left to speculation, as he went with such frenetic speed as to become difficult to perceive properly.​

​

The Sword of the Heron King flashed and struck like lightning; its reach defied reason. Those foes who crept away to hunt ensigns and smash consoles died as easily as if they had been close at-hand. It seemed at times that every space was a sword, and there were none who could move long without being struck.​

​

It only seemed like that, of course, but the boarding party died out so quickly that it may as well have been true. All that remained at the end of things were some heaps of severed limbs and proud armor that had been split as easily as firewood. The floor of the bridge now more readily resembled some junkyard of smashed figurines. A coating of dead plasm was all that suggested some spirits, too, had been slain.​

​

And there maybe were some crewmen who were killed too cleanly for it to have been at the hands of these Kestrans. And there maybe were stations that would appear to have been ruined by the cuts of a long, thin blade rather than smashed and shot. These things also happen from time to time. If there were any dogged survivors among the crew, their stations were likely ruined.​

​

Doubtless several critical functions necessary for the Tyranny’s operation would be hampered until a clever solution was devised.​

​

Meliant was prepared to exult when he was shot in the back. It blew his torso open, and showered that part of the bridge he had been facing with fine golden debris. Surprisingly, he did not reel, and turned to face whoever shot him.​

​

Oh. The warlock. In all the excitement… Whatever. The billowing smoke that resided in the armor was now perfectly visible, swirling and twisting. The pall of the Dark Side gathered around him and thickened the air, as if a storm gathered there in the bridge.​

​

The Emperor extended one withered arm and made his pronouncement: "Fuck off."​

​

The Living Force obeyed, and the weight of one thousand seas collapsed on the precise point in space occupied by the Warlock. To say nothing of what might happen to a human body, it was pressure sufficient to condense his weapon into a ball no larger than a man's fist.​

​

Perhaps there would be an explosion.​

​

These things likewise happen from time to time.​

 

[Kamon Hourn]

---

​

LOCATION: ABREGADO-RAE
TAG:
ALLIES: Siv Dragr | Vreegan Fett
OPPS: Arris Windrun | Quinn Varanin​

​

KAMON HOURN
THEME​

A hand rose towards her, slowly making a fist as her focus now included the ship and the Force around it began to push inward with devastating effects. The hull started to creak, fighting the rising pressure pushing into it. The Force continued to crush it, threatening the lives that were on the vessel.

“Mayday, MAYDAY WE’RE GOING DOWN!!”

Screams could be heard over the comm channel, along with painfully loud static noise as the ship went down.

Not Kamon’s ship of course, but some random one that was also flying in the general vicinity.

“Fierfeck... sucks to be them.”

Before the power that had been collected by the man's ignorant weapon, something from above made its presence known. A ship hovered over them, and a man fired another weapon upon her and others. Each bolt either faded before it reached her, or its power was so weak it kissed her skin like falling snow.

Some fell powers of the Force must have rendered Kamon’s repeater fire ineffective upon the Sith woman, yet the surrounding area was definitively feeling the effects of his firepower. The fungal growths of the plague were seemingly recoiling from his burst-fire of cryo energy, causing the bright red fungal growths to flash-freeze. The ship was moving in a circular pattern around the pyre, and Kamon continued to lay down highly effective, withering fire upon the encroaching plague.

"Hourn, status!" Siv barked into comms. He spun back to face Varanin, blaster raised to put a couple of slugs in her skull and stop this sorcery madness -- but she'd vanished. How? "Feth," Siv muttered under his breath as he cast his eyes around the battlefield, but she'd slipped entirely from the vicinity; so complete was her flight that his scanners did not indicate her at all.

“I’M ALREADY HERE!” Barked Kamon over the din of his fire.

A stream of comms of slaughtered and dying men, a line drawn through comms. With some effort, he was able to parse a direction through the broadcasts, honing in on where she'd disappeared to and where Varanin was going. "I'm going after the target," he radioed to Hourn, seeing the ship right its course. "Don't wait up." His jetpack ignited once more as Siv took to the sky to close the distance.

<<<COORDINATES RECEIVED>>>

<<<AIRBORNE STRIKE INBOUND>>>

<<<ETA - 3 MINUTES>>>

As Siv’s latest update came through, so did an alert across all Mandalorian frequencies. Kamon paused for a moment, then issued another order. “Provide fire support here - keep this damned virus contained. I won’t let that fecker die alone...” In truth, they would need to provide proper exfil when the osik hit the fan, and considering how quickly that Sith woman brought down one of their ships... Kamon wasn’t keen on putting Siv’s own ship in her crosshairs.

So he dropped the cryo-repeater and reclaimed his own - gripping it firmly before leaping off the ramp and engaging his jetpack. He soared after Siv, who soon came to a stop at the sight of the Sith woman and her cyborg companion. Siv opened fire, which gave Kamon the cue to do the same. He landed atop a balcony absent the majority of its railing, save for a stout section supported by a few worn but sturdy columns. He set the repeater’s tripod atop the railing, and unleashed several high-velocity bursts of bright yellow particle bolts upon the pair.

As he did so, he glanced at Siv’s signature. His vital signs were spiking, and Kamon suspected he knew the reason why when he glanced around at the carnage surrounding them. “Vod, don’t fight angry. They want you to fight angry.” Kamon knew a thing or two about that.

​

 

[He-Who-Walks-Between]

Cruelty Ceria Kesyk Lina Ovmar Meliant Astra Sadow

Gear: Mandalorian Beskar'gam | Beskad | Alchemized Helmet | Baradium Bomb | Sonic Blaster

G̶̰̮̈́h̶̢̏͒͠ọ̵̧̿͒͂s̵̖̭̆̔t̸͈̮͊s̸̪̒̎̕ ̸̻̮͇̀o̵͈̜̍f̷͓̈́̈́ ̵̤͐͜t̴͓͂͌h̶͍̿͐̊e̴̫͑ ̶̡̭̣̽M̷̤̓͂̈́ḁ̵̡́͘n̸̗͉͉̒̇̔d̴̬̖̽a̴͉̻̲͒


​

A small pot of blood sat on the ground before it awaiting its artist. A pot whose liquid contents were bound to spoil in haste exposed to the elements on a world enveloped in fungus left unattended. A ripple pierced the tension in that pool. A scratching sound rose from the wall. A blood-soaked symbol soon continued the work of the absent artist. He-Who-Walks-Between He-Who-Walks-Between

If only she held his true name...

Or held some of his blood...

Or knew anything of him at all...

Kesyk was so enamored by the opportunity that even when a Mandalorian bolt struck her side, she did little more than stumble and laugh, holding her side as her eyes couldn’t peel away from the screen.

Doubtless several critical functions necessary for the Tyranny’s operation would be hampered until a clever solution was devised.

The bridge became a charnel hall.

And this seemed to shock the Sith.

He Who Walks Between froze after firing his shot, head tilting as he once again saw this scene play out as it had when he walked before.

“Oh… you poor thing…” Cruelty echoed himself as he cradled the man between life and death, stroking his hair, trying to console him even though it was not in his nature to do so.

The Mistress of Shadows simply stepped from behind Cruelty, an ice cold hand marred with blackened veins settled gently on his shattered shoulder, wings of shadow twisting into pointed dark tendrils poised like stingers waiting to strike.Her gaze settled on the Graspborn dying in his gentle embrace. Wraithspire struck the floor of the bridge with a deep echoing thunk.

"My dear child, what have they done to you?"

And just as it had then, pity twisted his features beneath the helm.

Pity at their warped and polluted versions of love and compassion.

Then the sonic blaster in his hand imploded, crumpling in on itself and its power cell detonating in an explosion that took his hand off at the wrist. He fell to his knees screaming, voice ragged beneath the helm. Bits of remnant tissue hung from within still in-tact beskar gauntling.

The Emperor extended one withered arm and made his pronouncement: "Fuck off."The Living Force obeyed, and the weight of one thousand seas collapsed on the precise point in space occupied by the Warlock. To say nothing of what might happen to a human body, it was pressure sufficient to condense his weapon into a ball no larger than a man's fist.

Breathing hard, pushing air between clenched teeth, Kade Kol-Rekali let out another choked cry of disbelief.

Seeing it was one thing.

Experiencing another.

The pain seared from the shredded meat of what remained of his hand all the way up his arm in shooting, searing needles of agony. From this vantage he could see all the bodies of the vode scattered among the obliterated crew of the bridge like so many fallen leaves. And him now, alone. Facing four.

No.

Facing five. Five wills against his own.

He may have given up then and there, but he felt a presence at his shoulder.

He is not alone.

WE ARE HERE.

The Quartermaster...

Taking another shuddering breath, Kade slammed the tip of his beskar into the deck with his one remaining hand and pushed himself back up to his feet. He could not fail the vode. He must give them time. He must make a stand.

On his lips, an ancient dirge for the fallen.

"Echoy'la, Echoy'la."
​

Mourning. Mourning.

He gripped the beskad firmly, eyes swinging toward the one who had been casting the Sith sorcery upon the entire planet of Abregado-Rae.

Leveling his beskad at Meliant , he let out a blast of telekinetic energy in the Force meant to hurl the Sith swordmaster against the far wall, then Kade charged toward the Thing which called itself Cruelty, swinging his beskad as he did to lop its head from its shoulders unless one of them stopped him.

As he fought, the words tumbled from his lips.

"Partaylir te ruyot." ​

Remember the past.

"Partaylir te gai." ​

Remember the names.

"Partaylir te tal." ​

Remember the blood.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Arris Windrun //:
//: Siv Dragr //: Kamon Hourn //:

All that mattered was that she made it to Arris.

But the moment was cut short. There was no fanfare, no embrace, nothing. Quinn stood beside the woman, her eyes following the length of the gun at the woman she had just killed.

In that moment, she recognized what Arris had done. It would have been the same mercy she would have offered the woman. This… everything they were doing was not what she wanted, nor something that she fully condoned.

But like Arris, Quinn understood the why.

"Arris?" Her voice was soft, far more gentle than the brunette had ever heard. There was no seduction, just honest care and worry.

There was more to this madness than Quinn could fully comprehend. She could only fathom what was happening to those that she felt linked together; Quinn had stayed out — remember the havoc her own mind breaking had caused others. Who was the cause now?

Quinn stepped forward, her hand tightening the grip on the arm with the gun.

"Arris, you did the ri—"

She hadn't paid attention to their surroundings. Her entire focus was on Arris and what Arris was going through. Quinn's guilt had blinded her to the enemy that had chased her, hunting her like a wild beast for slaughtering their kin. Pain bloomed, starting from her back, the armor protecting her as much as it could. Another cut through her, luckily missing her heart.

Quinn's eyes widened as she tried to instinctively use Tutaminis again. To absorb the bolts like she had done before. Instead, the man had shifted and somehow decided against using the weapon or the ammunition he had used before.

It was at that moment that her breath shuddered — cold. She recognized it. The blizzard was designed to be something detrimental to the Sith… it felt like home. Each frigid breeze brought the young monarch memories of Eshan and her Mother ( Srina Talon ). The blizzard was nothing more than fuel for the girl, as she shoved Arris down. Her senses widened, feeling the arrival of a second.

It seemed he survived the Force Crush; how lucky.

Another shot burned through her core, and she felt her breath becoming hindered. Thankfully, the Force was an ally, something she had leaned upon since conception. Like the storm, she welcomed the pain, letting it fuel the dark core that churned inside of her. If she were to die today, these two fools would come with her; their deaths would precede hers.

She would make sure of it.

Warm blood slipped beneath Quinn's armor as she stood in front of Arris. She raised an empty hand, and the blizzard bent towards her, buckling to her will. Snow stopped falling and swept sideways, circling both of the Sith in tightening currents. Quinn pulled whatever little warmth from every flake of snow until the storm crystallized beneath her influence. The air became painfully cold as frost spread across the ground beneath her boots.

The enemy continued to fire, raining down bullets and energy bolts.

Quinn closed her fingers, tightening them into a fist.

Suddenly, the Force seized the solid projectiles midair, their speed bled away as if it had struck deep water. Yet she didn't try to stop them through strength alone. Snow rushed around the slugs, freezing layer after layer until its remaining momentum disappeared inside small masses of ice.

They dropped harmlessly out of the air.

The yellow bolts of energy in tandem fired at them, but they also met their fate against the blizzard.

Quinn had lifted her other hand, and the storm rose with it; the encircling cold became ice, curving overhead and forming overlapping layers instead of a single wall. Each bolt burned into a layer, then quickly reformed through the same process. Layer after layer melted against the bolt, and the defenses still held.

She did everything she could, blood leaking from the wounds dripping to the ground as it froze at her feet. All of her strength went into protecting them. Quinn held both fronts; she was a Dark Lord of the Sith, she was their heir, their next Empress. And like those before her, she would lead them, continuing the great legacy her blood carried.

In the back of her mind, she could feel the mental network that had been clawing at the edge of her mind since they had arrived. She fought back, not wanting to plague it with her own horrible nightmares. But there was something gentle, something familiar with it as she allowed just that voice through.

All of you who hear me, you are true Lords. In our darkest hour, you still stand. They wish to break you, but we are their destruction made flesh. Stand, move, fight. Do not go quietly into the night, scream your fury and be Sith.

It was Mercy. A little grin curled at her lips; of all the people to give an inspirational speech, it was her karking Knave of a friend.

You really are Ashin's apprentice, Knave… ( Mercy )

But she was right.

Quinn knew what needed to be done; with a hollow exhale, she began to taste blood on her lips. She didn't know how much longer, but she would do everything. The darkness churning inside her grew excited; she had kept it at bay for most of this fight, wanting to do it on her own. With each painful breath, the dark miasma bled from her, crawling on the ground of the doomed city.

She could feel her body splitting, giving in to the dark horrors that bled into the Force. Every ounce of her power channeled into empowering herself and anyone who reached for the shadows, maintaining the defense and the quiet offense that was the cold.

Grinning, she knew she and Arris would be able to handle the frigid temperatures, but would the Mandalorians and their toys?

Each passing moment, the blizzard grew colder and colder. It numbed the agonizing pain from her wounds, blood freezing the moment it slipped through the bits of her armor or dripped from her lips.

If she couldn't strangle them, or drive her spear through their hearts…

She would freeze them to death.

 

[Ceria Kesyk]

MERCY'S TYRANT SQUADRON
IN ORBIT // ABREGADO-RAE
Cruelty | Meliant | Lina Ovmar | Kjartan Hammer-Hand | Yuri Maji | Romul Saxon | The Quartermaster | He-Who-Walks-Between​

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Lead ship: Tyranny

Main body:

• Tenacious-class Heavy Star Destroyers​
• Grand Victory-class Star Destroyers​
• Silencer-class Siege Destroyers​
• Ardent-class Fast Frigates​
• Tu'kata-class Sith Raiders​
• Thrantin-class Corvettes​
• Various smaller support ships​

While the Tyranny was undoubtedly a formidable vessel of massive proportions, any ship would be hard pressed to resist the combined firepower of an entire fleet - as well as the myriad of countermeasure suites contained within its vessels.

The Mandalorian armada committed the totality of its firepower to bring the Tyranny down.

They would not find the task so easy, however. If anything, the Super Star Destroyer was quite comfortable sitting there. A fortress of death, designed to accept the kind of punishment that the Mythic Fleet unleashed. Yes, it wasn’t invincible. No, it couldn’t withstand such a beating indefinitely. But what the Kestrans faced was a paradigm shift in naval warfare. A great warship that technologically outclassed any single ship in their arsenal.

Lacking particular strokes of genius, it did take everything they had to win an advantage against the Tyranny. Every battery. Every tool. Every savvy weapon and the full suite of countermeasures at their disposal.

Their electronic warfare was met with the Tyranny’s own. The Tyranny, too, had countermeasures for countermeasures, because of course battles such as these were like a game of trying to keep your hand on top of theirs. Eventually, you had to pull one out from the other to put it back on top again. It was an illusion of strategy that, from an outsider’s lens, was, in fact, an act of insanity.

Kesyk knew this. She savored that she knew this. Because by tackling the Tyranny with conventional tactics, by deploying everything they had against the Super Star Destroyer, they’ve allowed the rest of Tyrant Squadron freedom to seize a great advantage.

Even with half the Tyranny’s guns fixed on the evacuation, Tyranny's complement continued to split off. Half engaged in orbital dogfights, and the rest swarmed the skies of Abregado-rae, providing much-needed relief. And the other half of its guns focused on Hammer-Hand’s battlegroups.

All the while, the rest of Tyrant recalibrated. Grand Victory cruisers fanned out, with strategically positioned heavy destroyers to retaliate on the Mandalorian ships, unleashing their own firepower while the enemy’s was concentrated entirely on the Tyranny. Thrantin-class corvettes and fast frigates used their nimbleness to flank, firing at engines, sensors, and shield domes. Anything visible and vulnerable. TIE Hunters - deployed from the Tyranny and other vessels - kept the enemy fighters engaged, trading blows, so bomber squadrons could strafe capital ships in torpedo runs.

The enemy punched holes through the Tyranny’s shields. Scorched the armor. Certainly destroyed gun emplacements, too. They bore down on it with tremendous firepower that made anyone on the bridge anxious, because until now, the dreadnought’s technical capabilities hadn’t truly been tested. Yet, the Tyranny held, and the more the Mandalorians pressed down on it, the harder the dreadnought seemed to bite back. All of it - the carnage and the rage - fed the ever-permeating Darkness of the Tyranny, infusing the crew with a certain bloodlust.

However, the chaos on the bridge finally snatched Kesyk’s attention when another ensign was killed at his station. She looked all around the overbridge, fully grasping the extent of the damage. Blood. Sparks. Small, mostly-contained fires. The wailing of the wounded or dying.

Kesyk snapped. “I’ll have order on my bridge!” She walked over, still holding her side, and pressed her boot to the throat of one dying officer, putting him out of his misery.

“My Lords…” Her eyes snapped to Lina, the woman she’d never seen before.

When she regarded the strange intruder, the one who appeared to be their leader, she could only feel disappointment. She shook her head at the scene and turned back to her station.

Ceria fingered a code into her command console. A barrier flickered to life, separating her half of the bridge from the wreck behind her, where Cruelty, Meliant, the intruders, and the unknown woman were.

So many dead crew and bridge officers - while glorified managers - were a hindrance. It would certainly impact the efficiency of top-down command with a skeleton operation on the command deck. Kesyk would have to rely on the competency of substation commanders and the independent order of every subgroup across the Tyranny.

Spoiler: Action Summary

This set of actions pertains to Hammer-Hand and what's happening on the bridge. Neither Romul nor Yuri has posted yet after over 24h - I'll respond to their actions whenever they reply.

• The Tyranny is activating its own electronic warfare suite and countermeasures. This includes DERP, Advanced electronic countermeasures relative to being an SSD, and anti-electronic countermeasures relative to being an SSD.
• Highlighting the Tyranny's defensibility as an SSD designed with the defensive threshold of a battlestation, relative to the damage it is taking on.
• With Hammer-Hand's entire force concentrating fire on the Tyranny (poor thing), the rest of Tyrant squadron is seizing the advantage by flanking and attacking the Mandalorian ships.
• Several stations have been destroyed and bridge crew killed. Kesyk has activated a containment field to block off access to her side of the bridge, separating Meliant, Cruelty, He-Who-Walks-Between, Lina, and enemy NPCs on the other side.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Quinn Varanin | Vess Sadragen | Lily Rhodes
Siv Dragr | Kamon Hourn
Down & Out​

Arris didn’t know when it was Quinn’s hand on her arm, instead of Roxana’s. The ghost of her dead lover was gone, however… if she was ever there at all.

She knew what Quinn was going to say. What she almost said, before that Mandalorian and his flying friend caught up with them. Arris would’ve told her: ‘I wasn’t putting her out of her misery.’ Deep down, the cyborg loved the violence, and she pulled the trigger just to make Rox shut up. In a way, Arris wanted to kill her past as much as bury it. Such things didn’t deserve to hurt her any longer.

Not that she would reflect on it.

The cybernetic Sith Lord turned, gun in hand, as soon as the weapons fired around them and Quinn pulled the cold air into a defensive perimeter. So it wasn’t just her, Arris thought; the air had gotten cold. Was it Quinn? She couldn’t fathom the possibility that the Mandalorians now resorted to sorcery.

One of their rounds must’ve snuck through just before, because Arris looked down at her torso and saw a gaping hole in her subdermal armor (well, would’ve been subdermal had she worn synthflesh below the neck).

“Huh,” was all she had to say about it.

The Dark Side had a funny way of numbing things. And even if that weren’t the case, her body was flooded with a cocktail of stimulants and had a pain damper. But even then… Arris had been shot, maimed, and nearly killed often enough. The bar for “life-threatening” had evolved.

Her thumb flicked the accelerator on, and her co-processor had tracked the Mandalorians.

It was Siv she targeted, however. Arris pulled the trigger, firing an accelerated shot normally capable of punching a fist-sized hole through durasteel armor. Perhaps the energy sheath was sapped by Quinn’s blizzard. Maybe the projectile slowed a little. It was still a deadly instrument, accelerating faster than the shrieking bang could reach their ears. If it landed, she didn’t expect it to penetrate that fancy beskar, but impact shockwave would likely be hell on all that soft tissue caged within.

Arris looked at Quinn. “Hey - we can’t stay here.” Her body wasn’t the only thing numb about her, if Windrun’s voice was any indicator.

And perhaps that answered the Echani’s question about whether it was her gift, or if Arris was just this sick and ugly inside.

Her eyes darted briefly to the seeping blood. “Also you’re wounded.”

They needed to reach the heart site and regroup with the others.

Arris closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force in ways that seemed impossible to her until now. But with Quinn’s gift… Lily’s link… the boon from A’Mia… She could finally notice things she hadn’t sensed before.

Reaching out, Windrun sought to touch her apprentice’s mind. Hell, both of them, because she thought of Vess, too.

‘I need some help. Can you reach me?’

If there was anything Lily was good at - it was getting people out of trouble.

She looked at Quinn’s wounds again. She wished she kept a stim on her, but the only thing Arris could do was draw a cigarette. Just in time for another shot to puncture the storm, this time carving a deep gash across the cyborg’s cheek. But she didn’t even flinch, despite what might’ve happened had that shot been a few inches higher and a little bit to the right.

She lit the cigarette, took a drag, and offered it to Quinn. Maybe not the most appropriate timing, but what else was she supposed to do? That made Arris frown… slightly… She felt useless.

Where was that anger from just moments ago?

It said:

All of you who hear me, you are true Lords. In our darkest hour, you still stand. They wish to break you, but we are their destruction made flesh. Stand, move, fight. Do not go quietly into the night, scream your fury and be Sith.

Oh. Something was boiling beneath the surface. Arris crushed the lighter in her hand, scattering metal pieces to the cold wind.

 

[Korar Murrak]

Battle Brother: Braze

Foes: Varin Mortifer Naamino Zuukamano

Objective: 3
Gear: This, hammer, slug thrower pistol, slug thrower minigun, cyro ban rifle, Kovita

The jetti and darjetti were strange indeed. Korar only saw Braze absorbing the heat and Varin Mortifer attempting to do the same somehow. While to most the cold we be a problem Korar and Kovita enjoyed it, it was their element. Then came the sithspawn, Korar grabbed his pistol from his waist and began to fire at them, however he didn't have to long as they where cut down by some unseen force.

As the smaller of the two sith put up his hands Korar didn't know exactly what he was planning but he took out he odd little necklace the braze had given him some time ago. Korar knew that it would effect Braze if it was to close, stopping whatever it was that Braze was doing.

So the easy answer, toss it. Korar threw it forward, turning it on only right before it left his hand. Now open and flying forward it met the two blasts that Naamino Zuukamano let out. What ever they would have done Korar wouldn't be finding out for now.

Since he no longer had to worry about the sithspawn he focused his attention on the two sith before him. "I thought sith where fighters? Why use the your little pests when you can fight yourself?" he said as he fired of two shots at each.

 

[Zandra Ruus]

Location: Main Rally Point, Abregado-Rae
Tag: SL-0182
Gear: Beskar'gam (gadgets in Bio), Beskads and combat knife, Deflector Shield, Razorline Projector, Amulet of Solitude, Rugrut Sniper Rifle
NZ-BG.400 Blaster Pistol, Anti-Personel Mines

,

Air support didn't clean out all of the fungating monstrosities; something was stopping it. They were in the midst of Sith units, and the foul beasts which made up the force that had attacked the office building. More would come, but the safety of her squad was paramount. There would be no more bodies lost under her watch.

"Vod, make a break for it. I'll deliver the package myself!" Zandra's unit was not in a position to argue. If they stayed, it was more than likely they would die. Their explosives handler rigged up the charges into one large bundle, and Zandra hefted it onto her back. She would be their weapon if needed.

As Zandra ran one way, she cut through as much of the fungus as she could with her twin beskads. Diving and weaving through lumbering limbs while the rampant creatures did their level best to catch her. One last thing was to be done by her squad, and that was the flares. Blue beacons launched skyward, and with it came armored fury. Walkers began rumbling their way towards the rally point The Sith were using. Heavies, standard walkers, and tanks all loaded to handle the fungus and its Sith masters.

It wasn't perfect, but much closer than most military operations had been for Zandra. They would keep all of the monsters busy; all she needed to do was kill the infection at its heart.

Zandra ran as fast as she could towards the largest stalk she could find and began placing the charge. The powerful blast would kill off the stalk at its base, roots and all.

"Get ready to die you kriffing nasties, I'm not going to leave this planet until your whole stalk is just a crater..."

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Tags: Cruelty Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin Vess Sadragen
Siv Dragr Kamon Hourn​

“Oh… you poor thing…”

The embrace was like a shield granting her a brief reprieve from the noise as her knees hit the ground and she looked up at him. She shouldn’t have found comfort in this, he looked so much like Mercy it felt like a trick, but he was the only lifeline she had. Her breath was frosting before her, snow falling thicker, the air becoming sharper as cold came from…fucking nowhere as far as she was concerned.

“You need to stop…” It came to him as he watched that Rift. Seeing all of that horror and realizing he felt nothing at all. “You need to stop feeling while still seeing…”

Another wave of pain hit her, and she buckled, one hand catching her before she hit the ground, the other curled around her middle.

<<“How?!”>> she sobbed.

“See? The dream catcher… it can allow certain things through… while keeping other things away from you. That is how you must move… if you wish to survive.”

She saw it, a perfect web woven between the chaos of her own and the Tyranny, a shimmering shield of will. Lily closed her eyes stretching her own thread pushing the network away from her own mind and constructing something between, it wasn’t as neat or perfect. Strands snapped under the sheer weight of information pressing against it, reforging rapidly in its wake, but it was easier, the pain was duller, the noise quieter.

Lily looked up at him. <<“Thank you.”>>

‘I need some help. Can you reach me?’

Gently, she pushed him away, making a mental note to find him when all this was done. Arris never mentioned staying away from him…fuck arris had never mentioned him at all. Reaching through the network to get a feel for where Arris was, she got slowly to her feet, rolling her wounded shoulder, grateful for the numbness the stims seemed to grant.

Then she vanished, folding space around her. Cold struck her, burning her lungs as she sucked in a breath now beside Arris, biting at her fingers.

“Fuck its cold.” she complained, then her eyes fell on the Echani and the whole world stilled. The smoke from Arris’ offered cigarette curled lazily between them.

Her own memory surfaced, Coruscants skies angry above them as lightning speared towards the buildings, the noise of the civilians almost unbearable. Lily arguing with the matron, begging her to let Lily take some of them, let her get them off world. Lightning struck, splitting the building, the orphanage she had grown up in collapsed around her.

A dozen faces flicked past Lily's eyes, young, bright and full of life that they never got to live. Grief welled up, choking her, blurring her vision for a brief moment.

All of you who hear me, you are true Lords. In our darkest hour, you still stand. They wish to break you, but we are their destruction made flesh. Stand, move, fight. Do not go quietly into the night, scream your fury and be Sith.

Rage rose like a tidal wave and Lily saw only red. With a scream she launched herself at Quinn, intent on tackling her to the ground where she would drive her fists into every inch of her she could reach.

 

[Srina Talon]

OBJECTIVE: 2 [Spaceport]
LOCATION: [Abregado-rae: ...Fuck in the air again?]
SITH ALLIES: Mercy - Grace - Xan Atropus - Veyla Tass - Kaelyr - Leontis Antalis - Astra Sadow
SITH ENEMIES: Carduul Akahl | The Arkanian

His jetpack must have been made of void stone because it didn’t even sputter from the devastating compression she’d subjected it to. Her hand flexed, and she absently wondered if the null field from his mutts had a lingering effect. Still…The closed-fist punch that she’d leveled against him had made him fly back, tumble, before his equipment righted him.

She couldn’t see his fool face because of his helmet, but she knew he had to be bleeding. He was hurting. Even if he recovered from her jabs rather well, he was broken or breaking, and there was very little between them to keep that from getting worse. Her silvery head tilted, and she prepared to continue the offensive, her rage burning cold, but something small and white crossed her vision. Floating down on a bitter wind…

At first…She thought it was ash.

It would have made sense. All of the fighting above them was sending debris and hunks of metal down on the spaceport like apocalyptic hell, not to mention the explosions from the factory district. Snow fell and caught in her hair, melting against skin that was still too warm from the flamethrower. This war was becoming…Messy. She could feel too much of it now.

Mercy had opened a door, and the whole miserable world just kept trying to come through.

Fear, rage, pain…She could sense it all in the back of her mind. The web that Lily Rhodes had spun let her distinguish some of her children from the glom without trying. Others disappeared before she could place them, little bursts of black stars, burning out beneath a tide of violence that would never stop. Sith, she had never met… Canm-Bulnu Bi .Gone.

Her chest felt tight, and breath escaped her in a pained snarl. The wintry Empress of the Order was overwhelmed with emotion she had no means to express. She had never particularly liked the term “Sithlings” because it felt, frankly, made up. Mercy used it more than she did, but the sentiment in her had taken root long before the two had ever met. Her children came to her angry, ambitious, broken, arrogant, half-trained, ancient, and young. Some knelt.

Some argued.

Some needed to be dragged by the hair before they understood anything at all…

But they were hers. Perhaps, theirs. She could sense the epiphany that Mercy was having, and the evolution of her thoughts was a bit of a surprise. The red-haired woman had never understood the way she looked after and guarded the Sith beneath her wings. She was expected to leave them to their fate, feed them to the wolves, but that had never been her way.

"I understand..."

Did she? Did the Titan truly grasp the depths to which Srina felt compelled to see their young survive? Would she feel the possessiveness that the Eternal Mother only barely kept in check? Her fury—That these mouth breathing barbarians were killing them?

Who had given these Mandalorians the right to take their children away?​

Another shard of agony found her, echoing with pain that was surprisingly clear. It wasn’t her own…But she could sense that Quinn Varanin had been injured. Her precious eldest daughter was strong, so strong, but it didn’t stop her head from snapping toward something she couldn’t see. The instinct to protect her was innate, and her empty expression turned absolutely violent. That split second of distraction…It cost her, dearly, while he made…So much noise.

The Arkanian reeled her toward him hard enough that her body cut through the falling snow in a flash of onyx and ivory. Just like before…She didn’t resist, not immediately. The distance collapsed between them while her mind neatly organized the data it was being fed as if it were the CPU of a computer rather than a living, breathing person.

She could not afford to feel. An Empress...Could not, feel. If she allowed herself to get lost, if she misplaced her sense of self, every death would take a little piece of her with it.

Then…there would be nothing left.

He reached for her and Srina saw the crushgaunt coming around her back. She should have been able to move, easily, but in that moment another sweep of Mercy’s mind pressed against her own. This time…It wasn’t just a feeling. It carried the vision of another, the sight of a woman that she hadn’t expected to see.

Don’t know what it means, ‘Her scent but less idiotic’, what the fuck did that mean? But be ready for anything.

Maybe her sestra could make sense of it, if she hadn’t fallen on her head again.

<< "There is a woman beyond the veil, she has your scent though less…idiotic. She is on her way and the spirits move with her. If you want my assistance-">>

Lina…Lina Ovmar.

Unlike her battle-sister…She understood everything. Instantly, as if the way forward had become paved with gold and wicked intentions. The way was no longer shut. The realization had barely settled when the Mandalorian fully closed his arm around her and pain turned the world white.

Her body jerked against beskar while the blade slipped past the protection of her armor. Perhaps, having found a thinning spot in the nanite covering. It wasn’t exactly where he wanted, lower and not as deep, but a strangled breath left her all the same. Warmth flooded down her side, and the nanites reacted immediately, scales crawling around the intrusion, but they couldn’t do much while he was still putting a knife through it. Mercy’d blood tried to answer…

But the blade was in the way.

He stabbed again, and she caught his wrist. Silver black fingers locked around the offending arm while her back bent from the inevitable squeeze of the crushgaunt. He kept trying.

“Just. Karking. Die.”

For some reason, that brought clarity.

The galaxy was tearing itself open all around them while both Sith and Mandalorian fighters tried to turn Abregado-rae into a crater or a terrorist experiment. Her young were at the whim of their ancient ghost-warriors, and Mercy was half-concussed, fighting hard, but seeming to be losing ground. Her daughter…Her daughter was out there, somewhere with Arris Windrun , without her mother…and this flying manling...

He wanted her to die?

Srina looked at him, through the pain, and then forcibly moved closer. The hand around his wrist pulled with unexpected strength, taking the risk that came with it, while she eliminated what little space remained between them. Her wounded side screamed when she turned against the dagger, but it put her almost chest-to-chest with him.

Close enough that the height difference became ridiculous.

Blood had worked its way beneath the edge of her armor and over the fingers of her free hand. He might have even felt her joints start to pop while her gear tried to protect her spine from being shattered. A gauntlet like that could do a lot of damage, likely would, but rather than try and pry it off her, she dragged that bloody hand across his faceplate.

Her voice came soft, light as rain, but there was a heaviness to it that would feel entirely unnatural. Eyes of yellow-gold flared when she finally responded to him, his barbs, and his demand that she die—

“No.”​

Her bloodied hand dropped from his visor and the Force moved with it. Not into his face, although that would have been deserving, and a concussive burst of shadow tore outward toward the empty sky. She’d missed him. Wildly, apparently. The attack ripped through the cold air before breaking against nothing at all, leaving only a slight distortion behind.

She gasped sharply when something broke in her body on the left side…But pain became fuel.

Pain was power.

Another burst of energy charged, whirling with darkness, but this time it didn’t come from her hand. It was weaving around the entirety of her form, pushing her out of his arms, away from the crushing, the stabbing, and his infernal shrieking. Her head tilted while gravity seemed to reverse between them, and the tether finally broke. Blood continued to roll down her side. There was a wheeze to her that hadn’t been there before, a lung probably punctured, but the woman seemed not to notice.

If anything—The sight of the Mandalorian consumed all.

There came a sickening pop when bone pulled out of her lung, and her chest seemed to reinflate while the pressure built. That same bloody hand raised toward him. Too close for a rifle and too far to snatch her up with the crushgaunt again. The first new breath she managed was ragged while the second went deeper. The darkness condensed before another concussive blast of midnight black tore away from Srina with enough force to buckle the air between them.

Followed by another, and another. Shadow rolled from her in violent pulses, with some of it screaming right for The Arkanian while other shots went wide—Hammering into earth and sky.

Almost as if her anger had boiled over, past the breaking point.

All of you who hear me, you are true Lords. In our darkest hour, you still stand. They wish to break you, but we are their destruction made flesh. Stand, move, fight. Do not go quietly into the night, scream your fury and be Sith.

Almost as if she were losing control.

Spoiler: Equpiment

Armour Saber Ring Ring Terentatek Body Gloves HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon Holding Aces Popper Echo Implant NPC Units (On Standby) Drake "Vaelcryx" (On Standby)

Spoiler: TLDR

1.) Got Stabbed 2.) Got Cryshed 3.) Got yelled at...Choose not to die. Using the Force to move herself out of a perilous situation while attempting to fire back with a shadowy concussive blast. Possibly not entirely in control of her actions. ]